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autumnslance · 4 years

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Early ARR: On Aeryn's first mission for the Scions, she and Thancred have to make camp and talk. With no one else around, there's no need for facades from certain rogues--as if the Echo would allow that anyway.

((Worked on this on the FFXIV Write 2020 free day (when not chatting with my FC buddies). Been working on this for awhile so finally yeeting it out there. Below the cut if one prefers Tumblr to Ao3.))

The wind was kicking up, sand and grit blowing as they rode across the dusty old roads toward Drybone. Thancred looked up at the sky and frowned as the rented chocobos kwehed and shook worriedly. Aeryn looked to him, a questioning expression on her face.

“We’ve a sandstorm coming in,” he confirmed, familiar with the signs. “If we push, we can make it to safety before the worst strikes. Come on!” He urged his bird into a gallop, Aeryn’s mount keeping up easily.

He muttered a prayer or three as the chocobos’ talons ate the yalms of roadway, his eyes seeking the cut in the hillside walls that led off to a side road. He finally found it, and kicked his flagging chocobo forward again as the wind surged, the rumble of the coming storm at their backs.

He let out a coughing breath of relief when he saw it. The small house was tucked against a cliffside, well away from the main roads. Thancred had discovered the abandoned building during his surveys over the years, and often used it for camp as he passed through this region. Now it would shelter the two Scions and their birds from nature’s fury.

He leapt off his chocobo into a running landing for the door. He took more time than he liked--less than a minute, but still too many seconds--to find the hidden key and force the swollen old door open. Aeryn had dismounted in the meantime, and led the chocobos inside while Thancred secured the door again.

“That should do--Godsdammit!” Thancred looked at the broken window. He scrambled to the top of an old table, praying again that it held his weight, and leaned out to grab at the shutter. He had to wrench it, and his shoulder a bit, to get the old hinges to finally pull shut. He jammed the latch; no need to leave it open in any case.

Aeryn dug feed from the saddlebags, letting the winded chocobos soothe their nerves with dinner.

“Well, we are not going anywhere for some time,” Thancred said as the wind howled outside the old building. The beams overhead shuddered, but the walls were intact and the door remained latched. There seemed to be no other residents, either; his minor wards must have held.

Aeryn shook sand out of her coat with a grimace.

“Welcome to Thanalan,” Thancred said, dusting sand out of his fair hair. “I stocked some fuel by the fireplace when last I came this way; we shan’t freeze, at least. There’s a well, too, in the sideroom for drinking and bathing and all else.” He removed his chocobo’s tack, patting the tired bird as he retrieved his pack.

Aeryn did the same before joining Thancred at the fireplace on the other side of the small space. The ceiling was low and there were no other rooms; it had either been a single prospector’s house or was always meant to be a traveler’s waystation, forgotten as trade routes altered over time.

She set out bedrolls and rations while he crouched next to the old hearth, pulling a false brick from the wall with a small grunt of annoyance as his knuckles were scraped. In the hollow behind the brick was a battered camp kit and a meager amount of dry rations. “The tea shouldn’t be too gritty,” he said, using a cantrip to start a fire. Aeryn nodded in response, taking their canteens and the old kettle to fill with water while Thancred checked his stored rations alongside what they had packed for the journey.

Aeryn only had the aetheryte to Black Brush Station attuned, so they had had to travel the long way. Thancred had meant to camp at a more populated waystation on the main roads, another bell or two from now. He was glad after fifteen years working in Thanalan he had such eventualities dotted around the region; it paid to be prepared when the weather turned like this.

They settled in, amicably making camp, listening to the wind outside howl with the static of sand scouring the outside of the building. The chocobos were uninjured despite the final push to beat the storm, and fell asleep quickly after deep drinks of water and a treat of gysahl greens. The birds curled up together for warmth as the weather and night brought dropping temperatures.

“We should get to know one another better,” Thancred said as their supper warmed and the tea finished steeping. Aeryn looked up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. He shrugged. “We have the time, and we are colleagues now, are we not?”

She nodded again, a bit wary.

“All right, it may be a ploy to hear more of your lovely voice,” he teased, giving her one of his charming smiles. “Still; I shall start, if you prefer.”

Aeryn blushed, but did smile in return, at least.

Thancred remained crouched by the fire. “Now then; I bet you cannot accurately guess my age. ‘Tis an interesting effect of the--”

“Thirty-one.”

He blinked. “How did you--” He narrowed his eyes. “Yda.”

Aeryn giggled and nodded. “She explained a few things about the archons.”

Thancred sighed dramatically. “I can only guess what she said of me.” He gave Aeryn a pouty look.

She shook her head. “She said you’re a charming pain in the arse, and too clever for your own good. She didn’t speak poorly of any of the order.”

“Well that is something at least,” he replied. “She spoke rather well of you, too, if you were curious.”

Aeryn considered that a moment. “Hope I don’t disappoint.”

Privately, he agreed. Out loud, he answered, “From what Yda and Papalymo said, you arrived in Gridania only a short time ago. Where is it you hail from, if I may ask?”

“Originally, Coerthas,” she answered. “But Mother took us to her homeland in the Near East when I was small.”

“And you decided now that you are grown to return to the realm?” He asked, handing her a tin cup of tea.

She nodded in response as she accepted. “My brother returned a few years ago. I...came to find him.”

“Seems you have found plenty of adventure along the way,” Thancred said. Heroics in Gridania, and yet more with Y’shtola in Limsa, and what he had seen of Aeryn in Ul’dah; like she was always in the right place at the right time, and it all happened to coincide with the Ascians’ schemes ramping up again. A strange feeling, almost like a forgotten memory, tickled the back of his mind for a moment, but he dismissed it. “I know Ishgard’s gates are closed, but have you been back to Coerthas at all yet? Have you other family there?”

She shook her head. “No chance, while establishing myself with the Adventurer’s Guild, and then all that came after. I’ve heard Coerthas has changed since the Calamity, though I barely recall much of it.” Aeryn thought a moment, a small line creasing the space between her grey eyes. “I don’t believe I have any remaining family there.”

Thancred nodded. Before he could ask another question, she looked up, head tilting as she regarded him. “And you? Any family back in Sharlayan?”

“Ah, no, actually. I’m not originally from the City of Learning myself.” He idly rubbed the marks on his neck. “I am an orphan and immigrant; Sharlayan adopted me.”

“Like Yda.”

He raised a brow. “I’m surprised she said so much. She was...young,” he said, playing it safe. He wondered how much Yda had admitted to this young woman; it was easy to forget they were of an age, given…circumstances.

Aeryn only nodded and lapsed back into silence, watching the fire as she sipped her tea. It did not feel uncomfortable, and Thancred stayed quiet himself as he finished warming dinner. He passed Aeryn one of the cooked plates of rations.

“A simple meal, but it shall suffice for tonight,” he said. “Assuming the storm ends by morning, we can dig ourselves out and make it to Camp Drybone by midday. There will be better fare there.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking her share.

“You said your mother’s people are from the Near East. Hannish?”

Aeryn finished chewing the bite of jerky she had been contending with. “No; from an island off the mainland, actually. Traders; we spent half the year, after crossing over the strait, wandering usual routes, before spending the colder, wetter months in our village.”

“Grew up in a merchant caravan, then?”

Aeryn shrugged. “Partly, yes. Mother’s talents, when younger, were more of a minstrel’s.” She considered a moment, then smirked, eyes flicking a glance his way.

“What?”

“She’d have liked you, I think,” Aeryn said. “Probably would have seen through the charms, though.” There was a lilt to her tone; she was teasing him.

“Hrmph,” he couldn’t quite hold the smile back. “And warn me away from her pretty daughter, like as not,” he teased in return, pleased to see her blush once more. He noted again that it was not difficult to make that red appear on her tanned cheeks. “From my understanding, you’ve inherited some of your mother’s talents.”

Aeryn nodded again. “I can sing, and play the lyre and flute well enough.” She hesitated a moment. “I partially went to Gridania first because I’d heard rumors they had real bards in the Shroud. Luciane introduced me to one, but he wants me to practice awhile before teaching me more.”

“I’m sure you’ve the talent for it. We should sing together sometime,” Thancred said. She looked at him, blinking. “Good practice, yes? And the others would likely enjoy it.”

“I...Perhaps,” she replied, smiling. “What about you?”

“What about me, my lady?”

“You said you’re not from Sharlayan originally. What of your people?”

“Oh not much to tell there, I’m afraid,” he replied blithely, turning to the tea kettle. He caught a motion from the corner of his eye, and reflexively batted away the tightly wadded napkin she had flicked his way. “Hey!” He couldn’t help but grin; he recognized a test of reflexes when he saw one.

“You don’t get to deflect that easily,” she replied, grinning back. “Not after getting me to say so much.”

He eyed her a moment, then shook his head. “‘Twould only be fair, you’re right--but there honestly isn’t much to tell. No family to speak of, nor much of consequence occurred, before I met Master Louisoix and he brought me to Sharlayan--the colony in Eorzea, at least. I struggled to catch up with my education, learned to speak like a gentleman, and earned my Sage Marks at a younger age than most.”

She peered at him intently. He wondered if the Echo were showing her any of his memories. “Why do I feel as if some of that were out of spite?” Aeryn asked.

Thancred laughed, noting he had not quite kept a hint of old bitterness from his tone, and she had caught it. “Mayhap there was a bit; not all of the scholars were kind to a young guttersnipe. The ones who mattered though--well, you have met most of them.”

“You all seem close.”

“We’ve been colleagues for many years now.”

“Minfilia isn’t Sharlayan.”

“No,” Thancred said. “Like Yda, she’s originally Ala Mhigan, though she’s lived in Thanalan since she was a child.”

Aeryn gasped, her half-full tea cup dropping to the stone floor. She held her head, as if wracked by a sudden headache. “Are you all right?” There was no response, though she looked right at him. It seemed as if her eyes had taken on a silvery sheen. “Aeryn?”

She blinked, the odd reflection of light in her eyes gone. “I...saw….”

So the Echo did show her something. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, smiling when he opened them. “A moment from my past?” Thancred asked quietly, resigned to explaining whatever the Crystal had deemed necessary to show her.

She nodded, reaching for the fallen tin tea cup and a spare blanket to blot at the spill. “Moments, really. It went quickly.” She closed her eyes. “A parade; a goobue; a miqo’te woman; a card game; a knife in a crypt…” Her eyes opened and she looked at him again. “Minfilia had a different name, as a child.”

He looked at the fire. “I could not save her father that day.” Thancred did not try to hide the old pain and shame; she already knew of it. “He had many enemies; I gave Minfilia her new name to keep her safe from them. F'lhaminn--the Songstress of Ul’dah herself--was part of the conspiracy of wealthy youths that led to all the events you saw. I ensured she took Minfilia in, though I also watched over her for years. Minfilia told me of her Echo when still an adolescent, and so I introduced her to Master Louisoix, via letters at first. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Aeryn nodded. “Papalymo gave me a brief history of the Circle of Knowing, the Path of the Twelve, and how they formed the Scions after the Calamity,” she said. There was still a thread of shakiness in her voice, but color was coming back to her cheeks, and her hands weren’t trembling as much.

“Does it take much out of you? The Echo?” He asked.

She looked at her own unsteady fingers. “Not as much as it did the first few times. Perhaps I’m getting used to it.”

He remembered her fainting at the Sultantree, and again outside the Sil’dihn ruins. The others had reported similar instances. “I hope so; you seemed ready to pass out.”

She grimaced and shrugged, and he feared she would lapse back into her customary silence. “You said you were looking for your brother, here in Eorzea?” He prodded gently.

Aeryn took a moment, then nodded. “He left home about six years ago, to see the realm of our birth and become an adventurer. I wanted to come with him, but Mother begged me to stay. She was ill even then, but had yet to tell us. And my own studies were not yet complete--though once she did take a turn for the worse, I had to give them up entirely.”

“What were you studying?” Something tickled the back of his mind again, but he shelved it for now to focus on her. Her breathing was steady again, and she wasn’t as pale; good.

“Magic. Magic theory, really, I...couldn’t do magic. Not as they taught in Thavnair, at least. I had wanted to learn so I could help my brother on his adventures. Instead I took up martial skills.” She frowned at the fire again, opting for water instead of more tea. “In Gridania, E-Sumi-Yan told me it’s strange I couldn’t learn; he says I have deep aetheric reserves, and it...suddenly seems to come easily enough, now.”

“Eorzea’s an aether-rich land,” Thancred pointed out. “Perhaps you’ll find a magic that agrees with you here. You certainly don’t lack the mind nor the talent, from what I have observed.” If anything, Aeryn's penchant for studying thicker tomes fit right in with many of his fellow archons.

She smiled, the pink tinge returning to her cheeks again as she ducked her head. “Thank you,” she said simply after some hesitation.

He smiled. “Quite welcome. Now, we should get our rest. Morning will come and plenty of work with it. Here, move your roll closer; we’ll have to huddle with the chocobos regardless for warmth, and I swear I shall be a gentleman.” He winked.

She nodded with a slight smile and an eyeroll, recognizing his joke. She shifted her bedding away from the spilled tea staining the floor. They ended up alongside one another, leaning on their chocobos, the chill seeping in even with the thick walls and the fire, the rushing of sandy wind now a constant background noise. The birds’ sleepy chirrs were closer and more comforting, the feathery bodies radiating a pleasant heat against the hyurs’ backs.

“Thancred?”

“Yes?”

“How exactly is my Echo supposed to help, if it still nearly causes me to faint when the visions come?”

He thought about his answer for a moment. “Well, you are getting better at not falling over when it hits you. Perhaps it will aid our investigation into the kidnappings.” He did not want to think about the alternative, the possibility that she might have to do more.

Aeryn’s quiet seemed thoughtful, as if she knew he was holding back. “Goodnight, Thancred,” she finally said.

“Good night,” he replied, staring at the flickering fire, shadows and light playing across the room.

What could one girl, talented as she was, do against something like Ifrit?

He hoped to all the gods they didn’t have to find out.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #A Realm Reborn #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #pre-relationship #shippy nonsense #Aeryn Striker

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candlelight27 · 4 years

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The Golden Deer And The Alabaster Doe

Summary: After the war, everyone changed, including Marianne, who is trying to find her happy ever after. This leads her to visit Claude in Almyra, where he's been for years.

Warnings: Explicit sex - quite tame and vanilla though, friends to lovers, post timeskip, SMUT, Fluff.

Pairings: Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan

Word Count: 4361

AO3: The Golden Deer And The Alabaster Doe

A/N: I’m working on the Sylvain series but needed to get this out of my chest. Claude is my best boy after all... welp, hope you enjoy it anyways <3

Marianne arrived at night, when the sky of the desert is filled with stars and the cold makes its way to you bones.

Her camel stopped at the big doors of stone, where two guards let her enter the city. The place, so different from her homeland, was in complete silence. There were a few torches lighting their way to the palace.

Marianne felt a familiar thrill in her heart, one she hadn’t felt in a long time. Ever since the war ended – the last time she had seen Claude. She recalled the sweet but distant memories of Garreg Mach, how Claude tried his best to understand her, to observe her, how she had convinced her to pursue what she wanted, even if she felt undeserving. The Almyran was so persuasive she almost confessed her love to him. Yet that bliss was cut short when war broke out and the death and duty was all she had time to think of. In that moment, all they could have been together was plucked out of her.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed by. She had matured, no longer as tortured as her younger self, and she had learnt to make herself useful next to Margrave Edmund. In fact, her adoptive father harboured the hope that she would inherit his lands at his passing. That understanding between father and daughter was what made Marianne take a chance, a step against all she had done when she felt undeserving of living.

This was the first time Marianne had done something remotely selfish. She asked her father for permission to travel to Almyra, and he accepted without objection. Then, she wrote a letter to Claude. She spent hours that night writing and crumpling papers. Too cold, too intrusive, too improper, too needy – nothing was good enough. In the morning, feeling more like herself, she wrote the first thing that came to her mind and sent it.

And a few weeks later Claude sent back a letter welcoming to his home in Almyra, right where she was headed.

The closer they were to the palace, the more nervous she was. Lost in thoughts about protocols and rules, memories and hopes for the future, almost without realising where she was, the small procession arrived and entered the enormous building.

The entrance hall left her in awe. It was as big as Garreg Mach’s had been but decorated with infinitely more opulence. From the ceiling hung silks made in confines of the East, while the lamps had been made with the finest gold and silver from Faerghus, surely a kind present from the actual King, Dimitri. Marianne walked along a rug whose intricate pattern was coloured yellow and green. She scanned the place, looking for someone among the emptiness. On the other edge of the stay, just opposite to where she was looking at, a shadow was moving in the darkness. She turned her head to the sound.

“You can go back to you posts. Thank you for escorting our guest.” The rich voice reverberated throughout the stay. Marianne couldn’t supress the smile that crept to her lips when she recognized the person who had come to greet her.

Claude stepped into the light, the fire of the candles and lamps kissing his tanned skin and colouring his eyes of amber. Her pulse shot up.

He was just as handsome as Marianne remembered him. His clever eyes were tired, yet they carried the glint of a man filled with content. After all, Almyra’s relationship with Fódland had never been better than at the current time, and house Goneril was favouring a long-lasting peace by the hands of Hilda. She felt a pang of jealousy noticing they must have seen each other frequently.

“The servants are in bed. I hope you don’t mind that only your old friend is here to welcome you”, started Claude at ease, as if he had seen her the previous day and not many years ago.

“I actually prefer it that way,” she answered sweetly. Claude approached her with slow and deliberate steps. Discreetly, he observed her and captured her featured with his pupils.

“May I take you to your room?”, he asked, offering his hand for her to take it. She nodded and accepted. The Almyran man linked his arm to hers to guide her across the mosaic of corridors and doors.

For the first time in forever, Claude was nervous – and after a hundred of meetings with a lot of older men and women who belittled him, he had forgotten the feel. Marianne was more beautiful than he remembered. In their academy days, she used to be like a fawn walking through life wobbly and unsure, tender, innocent, scared, a prey. Yet now, the animal he’d use to describe her would be doe. She was graceful and majestic. If he didn’t know better, Claude would think he was before none other than the queen of Fódland – which would had been a shame, because it would mean Dimitri was her husband. Still, all the differences Claude spotted hadn’t change her core at all. She had that caring air, that serenity she always had. And she had a brightness he couldn’t decipher.

The first surprise Marianne gave him was the she was the one to start the a conversation.

He had been convinced he’d have to make an effort to ease her and make her comfortable in order to coat any monosyllable out of her. He had been ready, he prepared questions, pieces of news. But the soon-to-be heir of Mangrave Edmund spoke first.

“How have you been, Claude? We haven’t seen each other in… ages. We have to catch up.”

Marianne even looked at him in the eye, totally disarming him. Not that she could notice, because he knew how to compose himself in a matter of seconds. Some things never change, and Claude would never reveal his cards so soon. Yet, he had to admit, it was truly amusing.

“Frankly, I’ve been busy. So busy.” Claude sighed. “Working on a political alliance with Fódland wasn’t easy and keeping a durable peace while pleasing every part is turning out to be a complete challenge. I’m not complaining, things are going great and according to plan… but it’s like I don’t have time to myself anymore.”

“It’s comprehensible you feel that way, Claude”, Marianne said, with a certainty in her tone he had never heard. It did soothe him. “You are pouring you heart on your mission. You are dedicating your life to your people. I know it’s hard, but it’s what make you a good king.”

“You seem to be informed of my affairs,” Claude tried her, testing the waters.

“I am.” Her simple reply didn’t leave him much to use.

“Did you miss me that much?”

“Me? I…” Marianne doubted what she could say. But the new self she found within her relied on sincerity and worried little about the aftermath when she didn’t have anything to lose. “Yes, Claude. I missed you.” She let out a giggle out of nervousness, ringing bells for Claude. “I can’t lie, I was quite bored when you disappeared off to Almyra.”

“The call of duty”, he shrugged. “Had I known that… and I would have visited.”

After what felt like an eternity walking – and conversing –, Claude stopped before a dark wooden door.

“This is your room,” he stated.

The former Golden Deer leader was ready to call it a day and go to bed. He was indeed tired. A part of him wanted his lovely visitor to beg him to stay, to chat a bit more, mirroring his own wishes, but Marianne had never been that kind of person. But what if? He didn’t walk away, he just stood still, as if something was telling him Marianne only needed a little push to do the second thing remotely selfish she had ever done in her life.

“Are you busy tomorrow?”, she murmured the question tentatively.

“Actually, no. I took some days off meetings to attend a very special guest that was coming from Fódland”, he smiled.

“Then why don’t you stay a little while? I’d love to talk to you a little bit more. It feels like the old days.”

She curled her toes in her shoes, anxious. But of course, he wasn’t going to deny her. Her hunch about Claude was correct. So, he muttered a confident ‘sure’, hiding his surprise, and opened the door for her. She slid past Claude and took in her new stay for the next few months.

She marvelled at the beauty and exquisiteness of the decoration. Every little detail, like the flowers, similar to the ones she had in her room at Garreg Mach, like the small statue of the goddess, like some books beautifully bounded and regarding Fódland’s matters, all those details suggested Claude had personally made all the arrangements to make her feel at home. And it made her heart throb. A teapot caught her eye, as its scent reached her.

“Is that lavender tea?”, she asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, it is.” Claude’s back was facing Marianne and he composed a satisfied smile at her surprise.

“How did you know it was my favourite?”

“I have my ways.” Claude realized in that moment that he loved the sound of her voice when she was pleased, and he hadn’t heard it before. It made him want to fulfil her every wish right there and then. “Go on, help yourself.”

Marianne poured two cups of tea. The Almyran took a seat in a mahogany chair, its legs sculpted like the claws of a lion, and took the warm cups in his hands.

Marianne couldn’t help but stare at him. He was no longer the Claude she remembered, not quite the same. He was a grown man, shaped by a war and the power of a king. His shoulders were broad and strong, and the muscles of his arms, hardened by the use of his bow, couldn’t be hidden by his loose clothes. The cheeks of the young girl from Fódland turned crimson. When did her thoughts shelter lechery? But she forgot all her modesty as her eyes reached his shaped jaw, angles covered with facial hair styled in the fashion of his land. His irises instantly captivated her, watching her every move. They looked like they were made from seawater. He had the kindest gaze she had ever seen in a man of his position, and that could never change.

“I have to be honest here,” Claude started, putting the cup away, “but your letter a month ago stating that you were coming was the last thing I was expecting.” He laughed, a perfect song to Marianne’s ears. “I thought I’d never see you again. Or that I’d have to go there by myself to finally see you… any of the Golden Deer, I mean. I’ve been meaning to send you a letter… or something. But I never found the time.”

“Don’t worry. I’m here, after all,” she tried to soothe him, sipping her tea. He opened his mouth, then closed it as if he regretted even thinking what he wanted to say.

“I can’t believe I choose to be a coward now of all times.” He shook his head from side to side.

“You are not a coward, Claude. In the name of the Goddess, what are you talking about?”

“Yes, yes. You are right. I haven’t said anything.” Claude smiled, but he was hiding something, and it twinkled in his eyes, trying to get out. He tried to lighten up the mood distracting her attention. “Are you married?”

“No!” Marianne blushed, then giggled, as if it was the oddest question in the world.

“But you must have thousands of proposals.”

“I’ve had a few.” She ignored his comment, and the question in her heart of he’d propose to her given the right circumstances. “But father… I mean Margrave Edmund said he wanted me to decide. I rejected them because I didn’t know them.”

“Quite the peculiar Margrave, not after benefits, but her daughter’s happiness,” Claude pointed out.

“And you?”, asked Marianne, her eyes round with curiosity. “Are you married?”

“Wouldn’t have you heard about it if I were?”, he laughed again, yet then a bitter tongue coated his tongue. “No, of course not. Although… people are pestering me. You know, a king must have babies and wives – well, one at least. Ever since Dimitri’s wedding with Byleth, it’s been a nonstop pressure to find someone.”

Marianne put her teacup away and took Claude’s hands in hers. She would have wanted to hug him and press him against her chest, to tell him that everything was going to be fine. It was obvious that the man was affected by the situation. Yet the only thing she could do was showing compassion with that small touch. Still, her pale hands comforted him immensely.

“You’ll find love when you least expect it. Don’t listen to them. And don’t let it concern you that much.”

“Finding love isn’t really what’s concerning me,” he ended up confessing at last. Marianne doubted if she should press him to continue, but curiosity got the best of her.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s… the person I love might not love me back. I don’t deserve her.” Marianne furrowed her brows. She was about to talk, but Claude cut her right before she did. “And even if that worked… I don’t think she’d be happy to leave all she has behind in order to be with me. It’s not that easy, Marianne.”

“You are reminding me of when I was young.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why don’t you begin at the beginning?”

“And that is?”

“Confessing your love”, she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I told you I become a coward when the most important decisions ought to be made. I wouldn’t… even if she was… right in front of me right now.”

Marianne then committed another act that surprised herself. It wasn’t exactly selfish, but it was definitely something she wouldn’t have dared to think about some years ago. She was completely sure Claude was talking about her. His glance was declaring his love for her out loud. The way he looked and melted at her touch was revealing the truth behind his secrecy.

Before performing any action, she thought of the consequences. Should she be wrong, would he be mad? Probably not. And if he was, what was the worst that could happen? She’d have to leave Almyra eventually and she’d never hear of him again. But it was probably the exact same thing that would be happening if she didn’t do anything.

She was feeling self-conscious. Her legs were shaking. She couldn’t even breathe. But she didn’t let any of those impediments deter her. She had decided she was going to be the master of her fate, so she would take the chance.

Slowly, Marianne leant in, her eyes closed. The silent of the night wrapped around them. And then, when she finally reached his lips, she kissed him.

Claude stayed still, which she considered a small victory. Her rosy lips were unbelievably tender on his own. He could have sworn time had stopped right away. How could someone so precious as her want him? He didn’t have the answer. He was handsome, but he was sure that was not the only feature a girl like Marianne would be looking for. But he was one to seize his opportunities, so he kissed her back and let his eyelids fall.

The kiss soon turned desperate. Claude placed his hands on the back of her head as he caressed her blue locks, and Marianne just melted in his touch. And a kiss became two, three, and many more. They were tentative, indecisive; they were trying to figure out what the other wanted, neither of them believing what was happening. Between breathy moans, the Almyran dared to use his tongue to seek hers. He’d swear he could spend the rest of his life like that.

“Claude…”, Marianne murmured with her sweet voice.

“What are we doing, Marianne?”, asked Claude, assaulted by his uncertainty.

“Whatever you want,” she smiled, “whatever we want.” The were so close, their nose were almost touching.

“I… Do you love me?” Claude felt so vulnerable he wanted to cry. But he needed to know.

“With all my heart, Claude. I love you.”

Claude then stood up. In a manner as delicate as a rose petal, he undid Marianne’s updo. Her silky, periwinkle hair fell down her back and shoulders like a waterfall. His hands took her cheeks and dove in to kiss her once again.

She fell back on the soft mattress slowly. During the few seconds they stayed apart, his dexterous fingers loosened all the bows, knots and buttons holding her dress together. One of his digits drew a line from her jaw to her clavicle, paying special attention to her neck. Marianne felt how her nipples got hard against the fabric of her clothes.

His next movement was taking off the loose white shirt he was wearing. The gaze of Marianne, his old friend – and now, lover –, was intense, like the one a hungry beast would display. Her pupils were completely black and taken by desire. Marianne herself discarded her dress, too impatient to wait. Her heart was thriving, and she had never felt more alive. She rose to her knees, letting Claude take a good look at her.

Claude thought she was breath-taking. He couldn’t fix his gaze anywhere else. She reminded him of the white marble statues of the goddess he could find around Fódland, with the difference that Marianne could be someone whom he could give his devotion. Her pale skin was practically glowing under the candlelight. Where could he start? One night was not enough to put into practice all the ideas that were crossing his mind.

“Can I touch you?”, was the only thing that he managed to vocalize.

“Please.”

He grabbed one of her tempting breasts, kneading it while he left a trail of kisses that led to the other. Marianne trembled and whined, too overwhelmed to understand all those sensations yet willing to indulge and pursue those pleasures.

Claude licked his lover’s perk nipple. She gripped his dark locks of hair, then moved to scratch his back. Claude felt his leather pants were too tight when his bulge started growing at every scratch Marianne gave him. Still, he didn’t stop and grew even bolder placing his wide hand upon the apex of her thighs.

“You like what I’m doing, don’t you?”, he smirked to himself. “You’re already pretty wet.”

“Not playing shy anymore?”, she answered, with that unprecedented confidence Claude was starting to love.

“I’ve got better things to play with”, said Claude, and as a reward he gained a laugh of her fair mouth.

As he slid a finger into her wetness, she took his face with both hands to plant a hot kiss on his lips. He responded eagerly, offering his tongue, and putting in a second one without any resistance. Marianne welcomed the addition vocally. There was fire in her veins, and bolts of delight went all over her body.

The more adventurous his movements were, the more her hunger grew. Claude was making her feel things she had never felt, yet something within her wanted more. And she wasn’t dumb, she knew Claude was starting to get uncomfortable under his pants.

“Why don’t you take your pants off?”, her voice was the perfect mixture between suggestiveness and purity. She was going to drive him crazy.

“My sweet Marianne, I’ll gladly comply your orders.”

“Is the king tired of commanding other people?”, the tease rolled out of her mouth effortlessly.

“Perhaps.”

“My poor king.” Oh, what Claude would give to hear Marianne saying that while he made love to her.

When he undid his belt and buttons, Marianne kept provoking him. She scratched the skin under his navel with her sharp nails. Claude inhaled loudly. He might have never been this turned on in his life.

“Are you sure this is what you want? There’s no going back once we do this.”

“There is no going back since you crossed the doorstep, Claude,” she said as she guided him to the bed. He threw his pants on the floor.

“How could have you changed so much?” He stuttered. “It’s not that I don’t like it. Or, well, it’s not that you changed entirely. But-” Marianne stopped his rambling.

“I’m merely making the decisions that will make me happy.”

“This might not have a happy ending”, he pointed out.

“If that happens, at least we’ll have something to remember.” She made a pained face but gained her smiled back rapidly. “And right now, I feel beyond happy.”

“You… you are right. Let’s indulge.”

Claude now stood proud and naked. She admired his erection, because it was the first time she saw one in that situation. Claude laughed at her wide eyes, and gleefully Marianne led him on top of her. Claude kissed her once more – and if it had been up to him, he’d kissed her until the end of time – and she noticed his hard member pressing against her thighs.

Having his body caging her and taking in his warmth made her head go dizzy. For Claude, on the other hand, it was as if a spell had been suddenly broken. The contrast of her alabaster frame and his skin of sun and desert, his hardness and her softness, it was as if someone had made her just for him. He felt greedy, but overall, he felt whole.

“Go on,” she mumbled. “I need you inside of me.”

Claude entered her in a slow rhythm to be able to watch her face. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t any pain, and so far, her face only had shown pleasure. The Almyran felt overwhelmed sunk in her essence, but it didn’t distract him. Her expressions were precious to him, and he wanted to see every detail.

“Does it feel good?”, he asked concerned.

“Yes… it feels different from your fingers.”

“Good different…?” He stopped.

“Too good. Don’t- Keep going, my king.”

His member twitched. He laughed to mask the aphrodisiac that name was to him, and then he started thrusting. Once more, he was being careful, but it wasn’t as easy as before. He was constant, but it was difficult to keep a pace.

“I love this, Claude. My king.”

Marianne was completely lost in the moment. She accustomed herself to his manhood quickly and waggled her hips to chase the close promise of her orgasm. The hot pleasure was constant, as if Claude was her other half and they just clicked perfectly. They were so close that all his body rubbed against her, and it was doing indescribable things to her.

Just like their conversations used to be, she was timid but concise and clear, while Claude was an organized mess of passion. Marianne couldn’t contain herself and roamed his back with her nails. She was beginning in the devotion of the flesh, but she was sure she just needed a little push to come.

“You are screaming, Marianne.”

“Does it matter?” She had been so absorbed, she had neglected on keeping it quiet. But she didn’t want to get him into trouble.

“No, who’s going to scold us, anyways? Besides, I adore the way you call me.”

He pushed himself firmly, over and over. He heard the echo of his name and almost lost his mind. Abruptly he grasped her thigh and lifted it, allowing his bulge to dive in deeper. He squeezed her flesh, leaving red marks where his fingers were, making Marianne go wilder.

“Please, Claude, make me come.”

He didn’t need any more cues, and he kept going, trying angles, pinching everything he could reach, kissing and biting her neck, until Marianne’s eyes were blurry. She tried to keep up, making her hips meet his when she could, but when she felt the rush of her peak, she let herself go. The repetitive clench of her wetness was enough to make Claude come too. Still, he had enough sense in him to take himself out and finish on her stomach.

A couple of seconds later, when Claude caught his breath, he reached for a cloth and dutifully cleaned her. She was gasping in the afterglow but looking sharply every move Claude made. He kissed her shoulder.

“We have things to talk about,” Claude began. “I love you, Marianne.”

“I love you too, Claude, but everything you want to ask me can wait until morning.” She extended one of her lover’s arms, using it to rest her head, and placed the other around her waist, so he was hugging her form. “But something tells me you already know the answers.”

“I’m worried about how we are going to make it work,” he confessed. He was surprised at her calmness, but if he was being honest, it was appeasing him.

“We’ll come up with something as long as we don’t give up. And I don’t intend to give you up.” She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t want this to be a beautiful memory to hang on the wall of memories. I want to be on your side forever.”

“What about Mangrave Edmund?”, he asked.

“Claude, don’t anticipate problems we might not encounter.” She composed a smile, her eyes closed halfway. She was captivating him. “Do you want this to be a thing of one night?”

“No! No. Marianne I want to marry you. Who knows for how long I’ve wanted. I’m just… Since the war ended and took so much from us, I’m scared of losing any happiness. Of losing you.” He kissed her cheek. “Okay, I’ll trust you on this, since you seem so sure. Just, don’t disappear, please.”

“Try to sleep, Claude. I’m here.”

Claude closed his eyes and he fell asleep as he hadn’t in years.

#mariclaude #marianne x claude #fire emblem three houses fanfiction #Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan #smut #fluff #fe3h fanfic #it's pretty vanilla #no beta we die like glenn #lots of kissing #visiting the amazing country of Almyra #yeah that's all

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b-witchered · 4 years

Note

Eeeeeeeeeee! I love tgia SO MUCH❤️ Any chance of more Renfri and Renfri&Yennefer? 🥺 The parallels on chapter 11 were f***ing amazing. (Thank you for writing the alive!Renfri we all deserved)

Renfri and Yennefer definitely get more scenes together! However, I do fear I’m setting up some of my readers for failure oops. Renfri/Yennefer as a couple isn’t going to happen within the scope of tgia for a few reasons

PUTTING THIS UNDER THE CUT, plus a little tgia snippet from the next chapter, because i have never been accused of being concise in my life

Honestly? They might have slept together at some point when Geralt and Yennefer were on the outs. They’re both very attractive individuals, danger and almost dying clearly gets Yennefer fired up, and Renfri has been known to make questionable sexual choices when it comes to Very Dangerous Individuals. So their relationship probably does include some flirting, some pushing of boundaries, some erotic subtext where Renfri has at least once put her sword under Yennefer’s chin and tilted it up

But when it comes to an actual relationship, Renfri at least is smart enough to put her foot down. They’re fine as rivals-friends-frenemies, but Renfri has some serious trust issues. Especially with mages. Especially with brotherhood mages. Yennefer knows Stregobor. She might not like him, but they belong to the same order.

And then there’s the big thing between them: Yennefer wants kids. She wants, desperately, to be a mother. This is tied into her whole desperation for unconditional love thing she has going on. Renfri? Does not want kids. Absolutely against them. If she somehow gave birth tomorrow, that kid would be either adopted out or in Jaskier’s care quicker than you could say “curse of the black sun”. It’s not even that Renfri doesn’t like kids. She’d be a great weird-aunt-who-gives-an-8-year-old-a-real-sword-as-a-present. But Renfri does not want to be responsible for a child’s life and health and safety.

There are other little things. I love comparing and contrasting Renfri and Yennefer in tgia honestly because it’s so much fun? Yennefer was born a peasant and clings desperately to the power and prestige her magic affords her. Renfri was born a princess and cast it aside with pride so that she could be as unladylike as she pleased. Both of them knowing that power means sacrifice. It’s a gilded cage to be sure, but it’s still a cage. Yennefer was willing to make the sacrifices and change herself to gain power while Renfri ran. Granted, Renfri ran for many reasons but let’s be real, tgia!Renfri wouldn’t have stuck around to be married off and shuffled away to a quiet corner of the kingdom, out of sight out of mind.

Renfri was a princess, but her father was a King with male heirs. No matter what parallels I draw, her situation was vastly different from Princess Pavetta, sole heir of Queen Calanthe. And even then, even then with circumstances giving her great importance and a parent in power who should have been sympathetic to her plight, Pavetta was still a pawn on a board who was expected to marry a man she did not love for a political match and then become a background trophy. But even so, Pavetta would always have been Queen and the keeper of her bloodline, and so retained at least some power. Until she produced an heir of course, after which she would have become... less important to keep alive.

Renfri on the other hand? After Jaskier’s birth, she’s a spare. Jaskier is the male heir, and so he got to leapfrog over Renfri in the inheritance. Renfri is officially a bargaining chip, one that doesn’t even have to be compromised with because she is not going to be running the country. As best she could maybe hope to strike a political match with a prince and become a queen of somewhere not her homeland, with little power and easily replaceable. But Stregobor claimed Renfri had internal mutations, ones that might make her sterile, and so as a bride she would be... undesirable to say the least, except perhaps as a bride to a widower who already had heirs to follow him and needed no more. Perhaps to a second son who needed a bride but whose family tree needed no new branches. Which means she would likely be married off to a man, possibly very much her senior, probably not a King but perhaps a Lord (or lord’s son) currently in the king’s favor. This choice would have been made for her, and she would have been expected to accept her new position with grace.

Yennefer’s father sold her away as well. Yennefer’s father struck a financial deal. Renfri’s father’s deal would have been political in nature, likely. Yennefer was bargained away to the brotherhood, Renfri would have been bargained away to a man.

(me, loudly: what about the implications of a mage organization comprised of all genders being called the brotherhood.)

Renfri and Yennefer each have. A lot of issues. A lot of these issues would make then incompatible for a longterm relationship. Renfri needs someone she can feel safe with, and that someone is never going to be a brotherhood mage, even if it could even be a mage at all. Yennefer needs someone who loves her unconditionally, who places her first, always. She needs to be someone’s first priority. That doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic relationship mind you, but either way that person can’t be Renfri. For Renfri, her first priority is Jaskier. Always. Just like Jaskier’s first priority will always be Renfri.

(He loves Geralt, he does, but if Geralt was his first priority then he would have told him about his sister long ago. Geralt is important to him, and he would move heaven and earth for the Witcher, but his sister is the only family he dares to claim and he defeated death itself in her name.)

Yennefer and Renfri both have serious control issues as well. Yennefer has literally mind controlled Geralt before, has manipulated him, and keeps him on his toes. She has this need to be in control, and for the most part Geralt is fine with following where she leads, and that makes her feel safe with Geralt. Up to and until she finds out that Geralt’s wish might be the reason why she loves him, and then all of a sudden it isn’t her in control, it’s some untamable uncontrollable magic, and she absolutely flips her lid. She’s furious! She feels betrayed! All this time she thought she was in control, but then she finds out that Geralt tied their fates together or whatever.

(Thankfully, this isn’t an issue in tgia, but Yennefer also doesn’t exactly love Geralt in tgia so much as she loves being loved. Their major conflict in tgia is probably going to be about children, honestly, because Geralt sure as fuck doesn’t want any.)

Renfri? Also would very much need to be in control of a relation. Maybe especially the sexual aspects of it considering her trauma involving that. She’s pretty, and that hasn’t done her any favors. She bristles under restrictions and has broken the door of every cage people have tried to shove her into, including death though she had a little bit of help from Jaskier breaking out of that one. She’s protective, and secretive, and has trust issues a mile wide. She never even tells people her name. Every piece of personal information is carefully controlled. And who can blame her for her trust issues a mile wide? She was assaulted when she was fifteen. At least one man she willingly lay with literally murdered her the morning after (thanks Geralt). Renfri has issues with intimacy.

So yes, while I love throwing them in scenes together and I love their snarky terrible friendship where Yennefer proposes they do something terribly dangerous and Renfri is like “...i mean i GUESS i’ll go.” unless she has a prior commitment OR it conflicts with her primary motivation of protecting Jaskier (getting too close to Geralt threatens this purpose), they won’t be getting together in the scope of the fic

which i hope people won’t be too disappointed by oof

sorry for writing you a whole essay about Renfri and Yennefer when you probably did not want it lmao, as you can see this has been pressing on my mind and tumbled about more than a little bit.

(honestly though if Pavetta hadn’t been married to Duny and hopelessly in love with him, I might have shipped her and Renfri tbh. They had plenty in common, Pavetta had magic and would have been powerful enough to defend herself but wasn’t a brotherhood mage, they got along well and had inside jokes, the only thing standing in the way of that ship (besides Duny and. you know. the whole death thing) is that Renfri wouldn’t be too keen on becoming a queen/having to deal with shithead nobles again and the whole issue of Stregobor. But Renfri is a princess of a royal bloodline, was raised to be royalty with knowledge of court customs, and is a trained and blooded warrior. Let’s be real, Calanthe would have loved Renfri as a daughter-in-law. Renfri is exactly the ruthless sort of heir Calanthe would adore. There would be the issue of an heir of course, but as long as Pavetta was the one pregnant it wouldn’t be a big deal because Pav’s the one with the important bloodline to carry on.)

ANYWAY you have been very patient with me so here is a tiny Yennefer and Renfri snippet from the next chapter -

As soon as they’re alone, Renfri turns to Yennefer. “I’m going to kill you for this. One day. Sleep with one eye open, Witch.”

“Come now,” Yennefer teases, “It can’t have been that bad.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if he’s criminally stupid or just ignoring the obvious.” Renfri hisses, “I’m carrying a sword. What kind of handmaiden beheads a bandit?”

“A very loyal one.” Yennefer offers, but she’s trying way too hard to keep a straight face and Renfri can see the smile she’s doing her damnest to contain.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him in his sleep the fourth time he started extolling your virtues for taking an ‘unpolished peasant’ under your wing.”

That makes Yennefer break face and give a most unladylike snort that she covers with one dainty hand. “You know,” She says, laughter still in her voice, “I wouldn’t need him if you just agreed to go with me.”

“If this is you trying to annoy me into going on an adventure with you, the answer is no.” Renfri immediately states. “Need I mention the last time you talked me into going monster hunting for you? There was a fucking manticore nest, Yennefer.”

“You enjoyed yourself, admit it.” Yennefer smiles with a flip of her hair.

Renfri presses her hand together and then presses them to her lips like she’s about to start praying for Yennefer to get some sense in her empty, empty head. “You are literally insane. You know that right? Stark raving mad.”

#tgia commentary #the witcher #tgia #to grow in adveristy #tgia snippet #tgia spoiler #renfri and yennefer are weird rival bros and that's all they shall have to be unfortunately #renfri disapproves of yennefer's dragon fighting companion #renfri: you aren't a bard yennefer you can't just fuck your way out of problems #yennefer: i CAN and i WILL #i do love comparing and contrasting them though #the noble who cast abandoned her birthright #and the peasant who clawed her way into power #yennefer #renfri #sorry to everyone shipping them in my fic #i gave it a lot of thought!!#but it ain't happening #in the scope of my fic that is #y'all can decide i'm being dumb and headcanon what y'all wish #or write aus where they get together i don't mind #where's my poly renfri/pavetta/duny v relationship #renfri and duny only tolerating each other for pavetta's sake but also like. kicking each other under the table #when they think she isn't paying attention #(she is)#renfri: this is my gf pavetta and unfortunately this is her bf duny #duny: you're right but hey #everyone else: i ship yennefer and renfri in your fic!!#me: we can go more obscure

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mrneighbourlove · 4 years

Text

Fall of a Dynasty: Ch 7. First Steps to Forgiveness

At Hyrule Castle, Athena was distracted by the architecture of the palace. It was so different than her homeland. “Manaco. Is King Covarog as beastly as people say he is?”

"That really depends on if my aunt is in the room." Manaco could not help but grin. "He can't keep his hands off of her for long, so say the servants. But if you're referring to his temper?" He grimaced a little. "Uncle Covarog can be... scary. For sure. Though he's not the one that can cut you down with a single look. That's my Aunt Zarazu. Aunt Zolori, on the other hand, knows how to insult someone in three different languages."

“Can he transform into a frightening beast like his father?” Griffith asked. “We have stories passed down from our mother that if we didn’t behave as children, the great and terrible Ganon would come in the night to rip and tear us apart.”

"I've never seen him turn into a beast like his father." Manaco admitted, "But then again, I've never seen him when he's lost control either. I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps he can, perhaps he cannot."

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be hospital towards us.”

"I'm fairly sure he's going to be surprised..." Manaco took a deep breath as the three of them approached the throne room doors. This was either going to be really good or really bad. He prayed that it would go smoothly, for the sake of Athena's homeland. Then, he opened the doors.

Athena and Griffith held their heads high, carefully walking in. Inside was a young red head girl, most likely twenty or so, talking with the Queen and King. She looked a tad wild, but still held a royal air.

"Luimaya, I have told you again and again, I don't want you doing such dangerous tricks on Carsa'sec, you could fall off." Covarog was not scolding his daughter, just expressing his concern. "He's not the most careful flier either."

"Daaad, Mom did those tricks when she was my age, why can't I?" Luimaya was getting rather tired of her father being so overprotective. "Carsa'sec has never dropped me! I've never fallen off!"

"She has a point, my love." Zarazu was trying to find middle ground. "If you feel so uneasy, we can always modify her saddle."

"...? Manaco?" Luimaya glanced at her cousin and then at the two Hasai. Zannah's kids, what were they doing here?

"Ah yes, I heard you were here." Zarazu turned her attention to the twins. "I am very surprised about the proposal you submitted, Manaco. Though, I am delighted that Athena accepted." She knew not of Bonegrinder's dealing with this, thinking it was predominantly Ralnor. "We shall be sure to attend the wedding."

Covarog, however, still held no love for Zannah or anyone born of Zannah. The Hasai had left a bad taste in his mouth for ages. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, there was still that underlying scowl on his face.

"They didn't come here just to extend an invitation, they're here to ask for something." Covarog stated. "What do you want?"

Athena took a deep breath. Time to put all her learning to the test. With a smile, she gave a bow. “Greetings. I am Princess Athena. Soon to be granted the status of Empress Athena of the Empire State to Hyrule.”

Griffith did his very best to not wince at that distinction. They’d soon bow to Hyrule. “And I am Prince Griffith. We’ve met Queen Zarazu plenty of times, but never King Covarog.” It didn’t take the man any time at all to turn on the charm. “And you must be Princess Luimaya. Queen Zarazu has mentioned your near legendary skill at riding dragons at such a young age.”

"Enough of the pleasantries. You two either wish to ask a favor or your mother sent you here in her stead to do her bidding. Probably the latter." Covarog scoffed. "This is about the civil war back in the empire, isn't it?"

"My king..." Zarazu's voice held a tone, asking him to be nice. "Please."

"... I already told your mother, we will not concern ourselves with a civil war that should be handled by the kingdom itself."

“Well, seeing that we are to become part of your kingdom, I suppose it’ll be your problem too.”

“What my Brother means to say, is that our mother wishes to have a strike force help her deal with the radical anarchists. She believes that our late Uncle Nihilus has returned from the dead. Is it not true that your father had to take the full strength of your Triforce to defeat him because he faced him alone? She wants a team to deal with him quickly before he can grow stronger.”

"I figured one day that her own people would turn against such a tyrant." Covarog did not like the idea of another fight. More lives could be in danger. Yet, if the prince was telling the truth, and Nihilus was back, then this would be a problem. He would have that bastard nowhere near his wife and children. "And my father crushed Nihilus like an ant."

"Perhaps I could handle this situation, my king?" Zarazu gently placed her hand on top of Covarog's. "You could take Luimaya to modify her saddle."

"... very well." Covarog stood from his throne and held his wife's hand, easing her up as well. "Put an end to this nonsense, my queen."

"As you say."

“Did you just call my mother a tyrant? Or my uncle?” Athena rose a hand to the King.

"They're both tyrants, princess. I hope you seek not to follow their paths in the future." Covarog glared at Athena, almost resembling his terrifying father in that moment. "My queen will deal with your situation, Manaco."

Exiting the throne room with his daughter, Covarog knew he would lose his temper and was grateful his wife could handle this stupidity.

"... Manaco, may I speak frankly?"

"Yes, Aunt Zar---I mean, my queen." Manaco had to keep up appearances in the presence of other royals.

"This situation is quite... unique." Zarazu descended the steps to the twins and her nephew. "I am a touch concerned about the return of this brother of Zannah's."

Athena and Griffith both swore at Covarog behind his back, with the former muttering under her breath. “Hope you get a heart attack.”

There attention turned to Zarazu, they both calmed their emotions. “Queen Zarazu. I know my mother has hurt both you and Covarog, but that doesn’t make her a tyrant. She wants to help our people. I want to help my people. She said that Rinku was a capable warrior who could help.”

"Rinku is older than myself and my king, princess. Even if you were to ask her, I'm sure she could not handle your uncle alone." Zarazu sighed, trying to find a way to say what was needed without further upsetting the twins. "I understand that there is history between your mother and my king. Yet, there is also how she hurt my sister and betrayed her trust. While I know you two are not your mother, I cannot held but have caution meddling in these affairs. Do you understand? I am trying not to be biased."

“We know. Will you help our people and the sanctity of a partnership our kingdoms hold, if not our mother?”

"... I want to help you and your people, not only because of this partnership, but also because they are not at fault for the actions of your mother."

Suddenly, Zarazu felt a large part pat on the back lerch her forward, despite the small weight Rinku held. “Who you calling old Queenie?”

Both the adopted elder princesses came by out of concern when they heard new Hasai were in the castle.

The queen jolted slightly when the hero suddenly appeared behind her. "You are old, Rinku." Zarazu responded dryly in good humor. "I'm old, your siblings are old. Ralnor is super old cause he's a grandfather now."

“What? Me?” Rinku fake frowned, her wrinkles pulling at her face. “Late Fifties and early sixties ain’t old. Just look at Leere.”

“Sis. You know I’m a special case right?”

“Anyways, who’s the asshat that needs taking down?”

"... Zannah's brother... Nihilus is somehow returned." Zarazu informed Leere and Rinku. "I don't suppose the snake will accompany you on this one?"

Both the elder princess’ grew stone cold faces, old memories opening up. “Ah... well, I suppose I better get the blade.”

As Rinku ran off, Leere examined both the Hasai, pressing them for answers. “Do you know if Nihilus was brought back by necromancy? How powerful is the body?”

Griffith shook his head. “Our Patreon god resurrected him.”

Athena murmured, angry at all the trouble this brought. “Maybe we should worship Vatra instead.”

"Exodrum is the cause..." Zarazu sighed, now feeling worried. "A deity involved in this doesn't give me the best outlook on this situation. Only another deity can take down another deity unless you have a way to trap this one."

Manaco then glanced at Athena when she mentioned Vatra. "... if you wish to speak to Vatra, I could take you to her temple."

Leere turned to Zarazu. “Well, you’re a Demi-god, right? All the spirits combined into one vessel.” The Princess patted Zarazu’s bicep to brighten her up. “I’m an expert on undeath. Maybe I can make him un-UN-dead?”

“And I can put down any evil with this.” Rinku had returned, holding the Sword of Evil’s Bane in her hand. The Master Sword.

"No, I am no deity nor demi-god," Zarazu shook her head, making sure to stay humble. "I am simply the connection between the Seven Siblings and their children. I am magic. That is all."

“Fine. You’re a sexy ass kicker.”

Athena nodded to Manaco before looking to the older women. “Would you all met my mother at Zizi’s then? We’ll return to you shortly.”

"We will come up with a plan to help your nation," Zarazu assured the prince and princess. "We will meet you there in an hour."

One enormous temple was dedicated to the Seven Siblings. Each spirit had their own shrine where offerings were placed or given acts of worship. Vatra's part of the temple held hundreds of burning candles and a statue of the spirit herself. The fiery sibling was composed of nothing but the hottest flames in a silhouette of a woman.

"Vatra is like Exodrum with flames, Athena," Settling on his knees, Manaco summoned his own flame and used it to light a candle. "But she does not deem who is strong and who is weak by the measure of their fire, but by their heart."

Griffith had gone on ahead, citing his reasoning is he didn’t want to anger Exodrum until after they killed their uncle. Athena got on her knees, fascinated by the culture. “As long as she doesn’t appear as a shark. That’s so fascinating Manaco. Is she a god of peace and of kind nature then?”

"Vatra is actually a goddess," Manaco held up at candle for Athena to light in respect. "She commands all fire, from the depths of a volcano to the simplest flame of a hearth. Not only does she encourage us to find our passion, but she also expects us to fight for or work for what we want. A fire by itself can provide beautiful light and heat, but if we are not careful and go ablaze, then it can also destroy. There is two sides to each spirit here. The tranquil... and the deadly."

Athena nodded, lighting the candle. Tranquil Vatra... and a deadly Exodrum? That was her own conclusion. “I wonder if she’d listen to me. I... I wasn’t kind to your gods Manaco. When I was injured, I cursed your gods because I thought your mother might have caused my accident to spite my mother. That your gods would have allowed that. I’m sorry for that anger.”

"In moments of anger, it is easy to place blame. While many accuse the spirits of unfortune, I promise you, they are very benevolent. I'm sure the spirits will forgive you if you ask for it." Manaco set her candle next to his. "Vatra listens to each and every prayer. While she might not grant every request of personal value, sometimes, she will listen to a just cause."

Athena gave Manaco’s hand a squeeze for reassurance, her green skin smooth against his hand. Closing her eyes, she made her pray. “Vatra. Goddess of Fire. Please hear my plea. I ask you to find it in your heart to forgive my mother of any sins. I ask that you look after us as we struggle in times of violence, and that we might come to live in the coming days. I plea to you to lend us strength.”

Manaco remained silent as Athena said her prayer to Vatra. He had thoughts of his own spinning through his mind. How could he be a good ruler? Would he be a decent husband? Children were to be expected, was he cut out to be a model father? There were so many expectations with this upcoming change in his life. Yet, he had admired Athena from afar for so long. Now, to have her at his side... it seemed like a dream come true. The young man silently prayed to Vatra that she help him with the events, whatever may rise, in the future.

Finished her pray, Athena took a few deep breaths. “After this morning, Im glad she didn’t appear, to be honest.”

"Heh... I suppose my uncle the king is not the easiest person to deal with." Manaco rubbed the back of his neck. "He's not so forgiving and can be quite intimidating." He then was quiet for a moment before asking, "What do you... think of this union?"

“I was referring to Exodrum to be honest. Your uncle is an asshole, not a terrifying apparition.” Athena took some time to reflect on that before answering. “I understand my duty to my people. An arranged marriage was something I never thought I’d go through. Once I passed thirty years of age, I honestly thought myself too old for marriage. With my mother not aging, I didn’t worry about continuing the line. But now, my future is so undetermined. It’s scary and sudden. I can’t help but feel I’m a pawn to your uncles. On the other hand, I have no experience with dating. I’ve never even kissed anyone. Now I’m expected to get married, led the Empire, and give birth?”

Athena set the candle down, playing with the flame using her abilities as a way to calm herself. “I suppose I can’t complain. My mother’s sacrifices were so much worse. And she gave my brother and I happy childhoods free from strife, something she never got. To be truthful Manaco, it took all I had to not strike your father. My mother had hurt his family and yours with her actions, but she was never a tyrant. She was always kind to other Hasai and changed a system of glory seeking warriors into simply survivors who lived and worked alongside one another. He insults my honour by insulting hers with the title of tyrant. A tyrant wouldn’t have given up her throne to help their children.”

"He can definitely be a jerk sometimes." Manaco agreed, knowing full well of the 'incident' of long ago when his father first courted his mother. He patiently listened to Athena's words. She had reasonable fears of the unknown. It was to be expected. Yet, to his surprise, there was nothing negative about him. Part of him thought Athena might not wish for this union due to the differences between the two of them. She did make good points about her mother, yet, he could also see Covarog's side as well. To his uncle, Zannah was the person responsible for Kanisa's strife and suffering. In his eyes, that made her a tyrant. "My uncle... he's not like Lorleidians, not at all. I think that's why my aunt makes such a good match for him." He spoke quietly. "I know of the good your mother did for her people. Yet, I also know of the... not so savory acts she committed against my family and relatives. There's a lot of tension and mistrust, for sure. I suppose from one point of view and then other, a person can be seen as two different sides of a coin." Manaco gently brushed a wild strand of hair from Athena's face. "Though, I swear before Vatra, I will do my best by you."

Athena didn’t move away as Manaco brushed her hair. The woman smiled at his smooth move, a light chuckle escaping her pillowy lips. “I look forward to that Manaco.”

"Though do you think you could do something about your brother constantly glaring at me?" Manaco chuckled sheepishly. "I feel like he's trying to debate whether or not if he could get away with killing me."

Athena grasped both Manaco’s hands with her left, then stroked his cheek calm with her right. “I’ll talk to him. We only have each other as siblings, so he’s always been protective of me, and I of him. I’ll make sure he decides against hurting you, alright?”

"Thank you. I don't plan on starting a fight with him, nor do I want to hurt him." Manaco smiled at Athena's light touch. "I just don't want to see you upset if I do have to kick his ass." He jested in good humor. "I think I at least have a fair shot, right?"

“Perhaps. Our mother did have us be trained by T0-D though.” Suddenly, Athena looked worried. “He’s still at the palace.”

"Oh... what do you think T0-D will do, then?" Manaco asked Athena, knowing the robot had served the Kikai Empire for years on end. "Is he going with your mother to Danjur? Or will he stay?"

“He has right to whatever choice he’d like. He’s been rather depressed though lately.”

"... depressed?" Manaco repeated, not sure he heard correctly. "T0-D is... sad? ... sorry, I'm not doubting your truth, I'm just... the robot is always so sassy. So sure of itself. I don't think I've ever heard of or even seen T0-D being depressed."

"... he did?" Manaco looked surprised now. "I didn't think he cared for my mother all that much..."

"He likes the people he forms bonds with before they inevitably die from aging." Athena picked herself up, taking Manaco's hand to lift him up from kneeling.

"I recall he was very sassy and liked to call humans by the title of 'meatbags'." Manaco rose from his spot in front of the shrine. "That's... really it. Hopefully when you and I return to the empire, he'll find a new purpose if we give him something to do."

"Well, we can't get him to stop calling people meatbags."

At the house, Zannah bandaged up her arms, thinking over Bonegrinder's council over and over and over in her head. Finally, she picked herself up from the second floor of the barn and jumped down the ladder to go to Zizi's house. When she saw Zizi sitting on her front porch and waiting for the other women to arrive, Zannah paused. She opened her mouth to speak the words, then closed them. "Zizi..."

Fifteen children, twenty-seven years old marriage, ten greenhouses, and fifty plantations in Hyrule... that was Zizi's legacy here. In the Kikai Empire, she helped rebuild the fields for healthy crops and earned the trust and respect of the people who lived there. However, ever since she found out about how Zannah used Kahli and betrayed her family, Zizi had not stepped foot on Hasai soil. Yet, she could not do anything about a particular someone coming here of all places.

Zizi was not one to snoop, but she overheard Zannah talking to the huge snake. Forgiveness was... hard.

"To start... I'm sorry for throwing a punch at you. Can I sit beside you?"

"... the seat is open."

Zannah took it, looking out over the land of Hyrule. "Did you and Kahli choose this hill top on purpose? It's incredibly pretty to lookout over the landscape. I don't often I get to relax. To simply be at a peace of mind."

"My sister gave this land to Kahli and I for our first anniversary." Zizi figured for now, she'd humor Zannah. "He built this house for me and our children. Then again, it is a bit crowded sometimes, we never expected fifteen children."

"Fifteen children. I can't even imagine. Tell me, does having a father in their life makes things better for them?"

"Is that a trick question?" Zizi mused. "Yes, Kahli did his best by them. Spoiled them a little, taught them a lot, and loved them immensely. What more could I ask for?"

"A trick question? No. My children never had a father growing up. By the time they had Annuciata in their life, they were already in their mid teens. And hell consume me if I ever dared to take inspiration from my own father. So no, I don't think you could ask for more than a loving family." Zannah smiled with a silent sigh in her energy. "Tell me. What was your own father like?"

"I'm beginning to think you're attempting conversation, Zannah, to throw me off guard." Zizi watched as the sunset caused streaks of purple, orange, and pink across the sky. "I met him a couple of times before he died, I guess. I haven't seen him in decades, so I suppose he's passed away. Drunkard, gambler, womanizer... probably a good thing I can't remember him. He wasn't in my life. My mother died before I met her. My only 'parent' was my sister, Zarazu. She raised me from a newborn, Zolori from the time she was five, and Ba'puu from an egg."

"My mother was a concubine. A tool I was aware of, but never allowed to socialize with. My father was a sick, genocidal old man- no, a monster. Because of him I never had a proper childhood. I didn't know what love was for a long time. I only knew that I didn't want to bring my children the same harm. I suppose that is why I thought it acceptable to sacrifice the friendship we had. I was just another offspring from the ballsack of another monster." Zannah relaxed her shoulders, finally getting to the point. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I can't change history to make you forget, or ask you forgive me. But I will say I'm sorry."

"... I never thought you'd actually apologize." Zizi told Zannah, not looking directly at her. "I just... don't understand why. Maybe I'm incapable of it. Or perhaps I really don't want to know the answer. It could even be that it's my nature. A Zemlja doesn't like to hurt people and I have a hard time understanding why humans like to hurt other humans. Though when I found out about it... that was the first time I truly wished to hurt someone."

"I never took pleasure in hurting you." Zannah smirked at her knuckles, still bruised from punching Zizi. "Well, not with my plans anyways. I just shut you out because I felt it was easier for the greater good. Be grateful you never had to think about what's best for thousands of people. I thought that I could live with the betterment of thousands over just two friendships I made. I can't change what I did. Or even go into full details of my rational. I'm just sorry I hurt you. I stuck a stake through our friendship without a second thought because I honestly didn't recognize how deep our friendship was. How important friendships can be."

"Even if you didn't take pleasure from it or had any possible reason that this somehow was the best for your people... you can't expect to become a great leader from the sole purpose of using those around you, Zannah." Zizi said quietly. "Not only does it hurt them, but it can hurt you as well."

"It's defiantly hurt me. But not my people... yet I'm not here sitting beside you because it hurt me or them. I hurt you Zizi."

"You did. But not only me, Zannah. You hurt Kahli too. You hurt my family. They all adored you... and that was broken in an instant."

"I didn't even know..."

"You do now." Zizi sighed before saying. "I don't think I can forgive you. At least, not yet. I'm not there yet. I can't speak for Kahli or my family. I don't know if I'll ever trust you again. But... the least I can do is try to get along with you for the sake of my son." She clasped her hands together. "I never knew Manaco felt so strongly for Athena to get involved so deeply like this, though all I want is for him to be happy. For them to be happy. And if that means tolerating you... then I can do that."

"Alright. Then how about we start with tolerance?"

"I believe we both can do that." Zizi snorted in jest. "You would have given Venu'sa a bellyache anyway."

"Wouldn't it be heartburn?"

Zannah looked to the right to see Rinku, Leere, and both her and Zizi's children return. It seemed Athena and Mancao ran up to catch up with the others.

To view his mother sitting beside of Zannah without trying to tear out the woman's throat was... unsettling. Manaco wondered what the two of them were discussing. Either this was really good or really bad. He hoped everyone would be keeping their heads after this.

"Mom?" Manaco approached cautiously, eying both his mother and Zannah. "We spoke to Auntie Zarazu and paid our respects to Vatra at the temple... she will give us a few hands, but due to political reasons and the treaty, she cannot go herself. A queen attacking Hasai citizens that she has deemed as allies, regardless of a civil war, might be viewed poorly by others."

Zannah kept her face neutral at seeing a Leere and Rinku approach. Despite varied histories and feelings towards them, they were both remarkable fighters. They’d serve their purpose. Standing up, she whistled for Bonegrinder. “I don’t know how many have sided with my brother, but we are assured a fight. I will face my brother with Rinku. We can kill him then. The rest of you will deal with the traitors. You can kill them or incapacitate them; I care not which.”

Both Athena and Griffith nodded, not questing their mother’s order to fight.

"You're going to be at a disadvantage." Manaco treaded the waters carefully, not really wanting to piss off his to-be mother-in-law. "Your brother has Exodrum. And Bonegrinder can't show himself to the masses."

"He'd risk exposing himself to his yet to find, greatest enemy." Zizi knew that while Bonegrinder would do what he could to help, fighting a full-scale battle was out of the question. "He has to be able to remain hidden until Luimaya takes the throne. The snake is picking and choosing his allies now. Hence, why he agreed to help you."

“Hence why we need to move quickly. Rinku’s blade can slay anything with an evil heart, including gods.”

The warrior princess gave a solemn nod to confirm.

"You won't be able to get to your brother directly, he'll have others in the way." Manaco asked, "How should we clear a path?"

Zannah turned to Zizi and Leere. “I trust you both are still power kegs of magic, even outside Hyrule?”

Leere gave a light sigh. “There’s going to be a lot of casualties, aren’t there?”

"Anywhere there is earth, I have my magic." Zizi did not like the sound of what Zannah was going to ask her. "What is your point?"

“Can you deal with the masses using your magic?”

"Deal with them... how?" Zizi inquired, wanting a straight answer. "If you want me to restrain them or trap them, that's different than... just killing them."

“Restraint. Athena and Manaco can deal with their fates after.”

"... and you are sure you can stop Nihilus?" Zizi looked at Rinku for an answer. "Dirt can smother a fire, yet... if a fire burns too hotly, it can consume everything."

“Last I checked he’s flesh and blood. And this blades cut through darkness, flames, and scales.” Rinku unsheathed a part of the Master Sword, the blade humming a low frequency.

"Kahli isn't going to like this..." Zizi sighed, knowing her husband would raise hell. "I'm going to go talk to him. Start packing what you need."

Zannah looked to her children, she looked to Manaco, and she looked to the sisters. When Bonegrinder slithered out, she took Zizi by the hand and pulled her along. “We’re all ready. Bonegrinder. A portal to my palace please.”

"Green lady, take heed of Bonegrinder's advice," The Anagari made a portal with his magic and then said, "Some deities are more so benevolent than others. If one does not listen to your plea... try another."

“We’ll see.”

As Zannah pushed a Manaco and Zizi through, Kahli was little too late to stop them or go after them. “Wait! Where the hell are you going?!”

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/614950440660074496/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-6-bad-blood-needs-let-going

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/621742623013666816/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-8-the-hardest-choices

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse

#crossover #Sorry for not uploading since april #Zannah #Zizi #Athena #Manaco #Bonegrinder

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starfleets-marvels-motherfxcker · 4 years

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Blog Canon for Mobile

I will include a short version of the canon but you need to read below the cut as well. There’s a lot going on on this blog and let me emphasize this, I will not be portraying them as they appear in their canon. I will cross them over to other universes including back to where they come from but they will still follow this primary canon.

I don’t know some of their universes super well. This is why I don’t write their pasts much.

The short version is this blog is based in a Star Trek-inspired universe, and the 15 muses present on this blog were adopted by a woman named Rebecca, one of my muses on a different blog. They are all siblings of the 23rd-24th century. Specifics below (each muse is sorted by verse), again, PLEASE read and leave a like on this once you read them.

Star Trek

Let’s start simple. Saavik is 4 when her Romulan father is killed by angry Vulcans, and her Vulcan mother was already dead from illness by then. All it leaves is a small orphan on a planetoid in the neutral zone. She’s on her own for five years, fending for herself off the land. She learns to survive quickly, learns that when faced with a problem, you need to attack it before it attacks you.

So when she’s nine, a landing party of Vulcans tells her to get a sharp stick and fight back. Fortunately, most of them leave… but there’s one woman.

She has Vulcan ears, but her eyes are… kind. Not emotionless, as mother’s, as her father’s murderers, but… gentle. And she notices Saavik, when the others do not. She doesn’t get close. Her name, she tells Saavik, is Rebecca– and she is not Vulcan. She is human, with some Changeling genetics that allow her to change her ears.

She tells Saavik she is with Vulcans because they are her crew, that she has made her ears this way because her adoptive father is a Vulcan, and she offers to take Saavik far from this planet. Saavik is wary of her, when another Vulcan arrives and sees her.

Saavik feels it would be better if it looked like the woman is her prisoner, so she grabs her and holds up her stick menacingly. He moves on, seemingly laughing, but Rebecca reassures her and finishes her thought.

Saavik doesn’t have to stay with Vulcans if she does not wish to. But she could leave this planet, and have a real bed… warm food… clean water… a family, perhaps. So she leaves with Rebecca… but quickly becomes attached to the woman, calling her “mother” before two days’ time on the ship.

When she is a teenager, Saavik is kidnapped for ransom, and her mother trades places with her. By the time her father and the rest of the Polyhymnia crew have saved her mother, she has no memory of anything or anyone. Saavik lies to Starfleet recruiters, claiming that she has her grandfather’s permission to enlist (as she is 16 and could fast track) in order to join Starfleet and fight in the war for her mother. So… she’s grounded a year later, when her mother’s memories are back and she’s angry, but proud, and so she’s allowed to remain, a science officer on the USS Orville.

Shazam

It should be noted that this canon takes place in a timeline where Marvel and DC superheroes exist together. You’ll also notice some Heroes crossover, don’t worry about it.

Following the end of the movie, the kids go about their daily lives– hiding their identities from their foster parents, doing superhero things as needed, mainly living out normal lives.

Or, at least, they were until a man named Sylar figured out their secret identities. After their powers, he murdered their foster parents, leaving them once again without family… except each other.

Given their secret and their bond, the kids ran off together, continuing to fight crime and do their best to create a normal situation, on the run trying to keep away from Sylar. Unfortunately, a super villain battle causes him to catch up with them… well, anyways, it would be unfortunate if not for the woman who had suddenly appeared on the street during the battle, stunning the Sandman and stepping between them and Sylar when he’d arrived.

This was Rebecca. She was a young woman who looked at them as superheroes and saw the children they really were, and they as children got to see the adult she really was. They would tell their story– how Sylar had killed their parents, how they were on their own and didn’t know what to do or where to go, and she would offer to bring them back with her, to her universe and year– 2291. They would accept, becoming among only 8 superpowered humans in their timeline at the time of their arrival.

Brightburn

Brightburn, Kansas was gone. All that was left was one little boy, survived by some fluke, some miracle, but nobody knew that just yet. Brandon had left a trail of destruction in his wake, and was wrestling with his emotions.

Because inside of him was more than just an instinctive call to take the world. Inside of him was a 12-year-old who was terrified that he’d killed the only family he’d known even considering what they’d wanted to do to him. Even his mother…

A noise had jarred him and he’d whipped around to find a confused young woman, in a uniform from those really old space shows that sometimes came on TV when he was growing up, who cocks her head at him, telling him she’s lost, and her name is Rebecca.

He notices the weapon at her side, and fires his laser eyes at her, missing intentionally, just enough to scare her and make her disarm, which she does unquestioningly… unafraid. Why wasn’t she scared of him?

She helps him, as he wrestles with his feelings. Rebecca doesn’t hate him for what happened to Brightburn, even though he tells her. She tells him what her mother did to her, how she was abandoned, scorned, mocked… and tells him a story she knows, about two wolves at odds within every person, and how which wolf wins is the one that he feeds.

He doesn’t know which one he wants to win. But he takes her hand when the golden lights swirl around her, and goes back to her ship with her. Maybe it’ll be better there for him. Away from the call of his ship, away from the horrible things he’s done.

The Boys

One day, following Vought’s unveiling of a transporting technology that meant any of the Seven could be on the scene of a crime in seconds (instead of just certain people), Starlight curiously approaches the thing… and a glitch causes it to transport her off to a destination unknown.

The location would be a starship known as the USS Polyhymnia. When Annie panics and prepares to attack the strange people on the ship, she’s abruptly knocked unconscious by a twelve year old with glowing red eyes before being carried to the brig for the ship’s safety… and one of its science officers is called in to see her.

Rebecca meets Annie, a 17-year-old who just got out of hell even though she’s uncertain how she feels about it. Annie is cagey about the world she came from, but admits to being a superhero, lighting her eyes up with the yellow-ish glow when the woman briefly shapeshifts to a dark blue form with black hair and yellow eyes. Rebecca offers to give the teenager a place in her family and… admittedly scared of the risk of going back… Annie accepts.

One day, unexpectedly, another arrival appears from her old universe. He calls himself Homelander and when he learns he can never return to where he came from, sets his sights on one thing and one thing only: the same level of adoration in this universe as he had in his own. The immediate way he sees of doing that? None other than Starlight’s new mommy, poster child of Starfleet, face of the Federation, Rebecca.

Now, Rebecca is married and completely devoted, but a silly little thing like that won’t stop him. He forces Annie to help him lure out Rebecca away from others, capturing her and taking her into Romulan space to hide her and erase her memories again. Which would have been more successful if he’d known this timeline had just come to peaceful relations with Romulus and six Starfleet ships would be quick to get on the hunt for him.

They’re going off almost nothing until Rebecca, amnesiac again, wakes up… and her gut tells her the man saying he’s her husband, and that he loves her, is lying, and remembering voices when he calls her Rebecca– people, talking to her. Parents. Siblings. A man who calls her ashaya and his voice is so gentle and comforting and familiar…

She tricks the man who has her hostage into letting her call her brother. James answers and is greeted by her calling him by a nickname. A nickname she uses as a code word for being in danger, while she taps her nails against the console. V'Len on the Polyhymnia translates the tapping as morse code– her coordinates, and the ships locate her with ease after that.

Homelander kills two security officers from the USS Mayflower, but he doesn’t get a hand on the others– Rebecca’s siblings and husband, and James lands the killing blow against him, snapping his neck before going to help restore his older sister’s memories.

This is when Annie finally realizes how much Rebecca loves her, as she’s released from custody on Rebecca’s own order. This is when she starts to feel accepted in her new family… even…

One day, while having ice cream with some of her younger siblings, Brandon asks her what her world was like. And she’s careful. Her brother is only going on thirteen, there’s no need for her to go into detail, but Mary picks up on what she’s not saying…

As does Rebecca, who had been walking into the mess hall with T'Ri. As quickly as she’d heard what Annie had been through, she’s gone, going to the transporter room with such a murderous glint in her eyes none of her crew question her, transporting her to Annie’s universe per her request.

Rebecca sits in Homelander’s chair with the back turned to the room when the others arrive, informing her of their feelings without knowing who was really in the room yet. When she turns around, she reveals the truth– Homelander is dead, Annie is safe… and they’re going to die that day by her hand.

Queen Maeve is spared. But the others… it’s brutal. Especially The Deep. Annie never learns the story, just sees her mother come back covered in blood… with Hughie in tow.

The vigilante gang had arrived at Vought with the intent to finally kill the supes, but were astonished to find one young woman in a Star Trek uniform wiping blood off her hands and three corpses. She would tell them of Homelander’s own demise and Starlight’s safety, punching Butcher himself in the face upon realizing who he was and what he’d done to her daughter. It was Hughie who pleaded with Rebecca to take him back… and so she had, after dismantling Vought’s transporter and he’d called his own father to say goodbye.

The Runaways

Everything is set for Rebecca to retire at long last.

Well. Until a transporter malfunction strands her back in her old timeline. While she tries in vain to get in contact with her ship, she runs into a group of children… and a dinosaur. Questioning what she’s looking at, Rebecca keeps them from running off and convinces them to open up to her.

Fortunately, this is when her PADD that runs her timeline assessing program kicks back to life. These children allegedly vanish sometimes around now, believed kidnapped and killed by the Church of Gibbon.

Rebecca convinces them to leave with her instead, and decides to test out a new piece of technology invented by a group of (accidental) universe hoppers that allows her to make a transporter door to her own universe, bringing all of them back with her… but only adopting four, allowing the other two to be adopted by some on her crew to not harm the relationships present within their group. (Find Dex, Sophie, Keefe, Fitz, Linh, Tam, Marella, Biana, and Stina on my main indie, take-to-the-fxcking-stars)

The Darkest Minds

This is where it gets really messy. Ruby would be the first exception Rebecca would make to altering a timeline’s plotted course, convincing Cate to give her Ruby after breaking her out of Thurmond instead of letting Ruby suffer as she had any further past that point.

This, however, would take place after rescuing young Jude from an explosion, bringing both back to the Polyhymnia with conflicting and confused memories that she would explain to them both after settling her emotions regarding their universe. She hated herself for not being able to save them all.

So Brandon would be the first to suggest the alternative. Maybe their mom can’t save everyone… but they can. He gathers his superpowered siblings and Saavik, and convinces them to return to the universe Ruby and Jude came from, sometime after Jude’s alleged death, and start a revolution. Free the camps, save the kids, and overthrow the president.

Ruby is uncertain but insists on going along. Now adults, Billy convinces the captain of his ship (the Enterprise), also known as his aunt Demora, to perform the universal shift to attempt the revolution. When Demora is captured by President Gray, the team of Rebecca’s children beams down to the California coast and begins the revolution, eventually rescuing Demora and returning home with a number of extras– including kids who Ruby thinks, in another life, may have been her best friends somehow. (Find Liam, Chubs, Zu, and Vida on my main indie, take-to-the-fxcking stars)

Following this mission, Demora follows her older sister’s footsteps and retires, and while her own first officer is assigned a ship, Starfleet asks Billy to take the mantle as captain of the Enterprise considering his role in the rescue mission, which he nervously accepts.

#mobile reference

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chibiwriter · 7 years

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CUTE PROMPT IDEA: SPARK AS A MERMAN???? NOIRE CAN BE A PIRATE OR MAYBE BLANCHE IS A SAILOR. IDK. RUN WITH IT.

Fifteen years ago…

They sprinted down the street, panting hard with a handclutching the bottom of their too-large tunic. It was raining, large dropsfalling from dark, rumbling clouds and hitting the cobblestones in a perfectstaccato. Even still, the sounds of angry voices could be heard in thedistance, growing further away as they ducked into small alcove after smallalcove.

Noire ran until the disjointed shouts faded away, takingthe back alleys and ducking through the unused portions of gardens to avoid themain road. They climbed a rickety trellis, ivy growing thick on the old ironframe, to the roof of a decrepit building. There was a boarded up entrance onthe top of the structure, which they opened and dropped into, replacing thecovering quickly so as to shut out the downpour.

The inside of the room was pitch black, but it matteredlittle. They knew the way. Still panting, they found the stairs and climbeddown from the ancient storage area. Dust clung to every inch of the place,broken, empty shelves lining their path having been looted long ago for theirprecious contents.

The soft glow of a fire drew their eye and they made theirway toward it, a frown forming on their face as they saw their sibling sittingup in their nest of rags, a thick tome taking up the majority of their lap (andthen some).

“You’re late,” Blanche said in greeting, their voice raspyand cracking. Noire’s frown deepened when the other broke down into a fit ofcoughing, though it had become admittedly better since they’d found thisabandoned library to hunker down in. Last week the fits rattled in their chest,thick and clogging, and their breathing overall had been unsteady, sleep comingonly in short bursts from which they would awake with glazed eyes and afeverish brow.

Noire was by their side in an instant and pressing a wornclay mug against their lips, the acrid smell of cooled herbs making both oftheir noses wrinkle. Still, they’d been lucky to find that soft-heartapothecary’s apprentice. The medicine would’ve been harder to get otherwise.

“What took you so long?” Blanche asked once their breathingreturned to normal, looking up at them with suspicious eyes, “You weren’tthieving again, were you?”

“Hey, if the drunken fools in Sally’s bar forget to keepone eye on their purses, it’s no skin off my nose!” Noire retorted, lettingBlanche take the mug with their own hands so they could gesture nonchalantly.

“No, but it could be your hands in an officer’s satchel ifyou’re not careful,” their twin grumbled, looking down at their mug peevishly.They inhaled sharply and drained it quickly, setting the mug down beside themwith a disgusted expression.

“Look, you fussed at me last time for stealing food. Howelse am I to feed us? No one wants to hire a pair of brats like us during thestormy season, anyway.” When there was no reply Noire sighed and lifted theirtunic, slipping the pastry they’d stashed in there out with a dramatic flair.They dropped it on top of the book in their twin’s lap, settling down besidethem with little ceremony.

Blanche jerked, lifting it quickly with one hand as theother brushed away any and all of the crumbs that had exploded over the pages.They then studied the offering, tongue flicking out to moisten their lipsinstinctively. “Where did you get this?” they asked, hesitant.

“Old lady Marie,” Noire replied, “Her new pâtissier is a grade-A piece of shit and fucked up an entire order for anoblewoman. So she bitched at him and threw the whole tray out the back. Don’tworry, though, I caught that one before it touched the ground.”

“And the others?” Blanche asked, looking at them withdiscerning eyes, “Did you get one for yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me, mon chou,” Noire said,waving a hand as they sprawled out on the ground, turning on their side andpropping their head up with a hand, “You eat it.”

Their twin frowned, squinting at them in the dim light oftheir little shelf-board fire. “That’s hardly fair, Noire.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too,” Noire said firmly, “If you like it, then it’sworth it. So quick stalling and eat the damn thing already!”

“No,” Blanche replied tartly, “We’re splitting it andthat’s final!” They took the pastry in both hands and ripped it apart, crumbsfalling like a little golden shower down into their lap and cascading into thenest of threadbare blankets and random pieces of clothing. They each grimaced,knowing the waste the action caused but neither choosing to speak of it.

“You’re such a pain!” Noire complained, scowling up atBlanche, “Why can’t you just thank me and get on with it?”

“Because it’s not fair!” Blanche protested, shoving onehalf at Noire, “And you know it!”

Noire glared at the flaky pastry, ignoring how theirstomach clenched and their mouth watered at just the sight. They could still recallthe fresh scent it had had when Noire had first caught it. They could alsorecall the ache of one of Martin’s hooligans’ fists hitting their ribs as themotley scavengers had descended on the treats as soon as Noire had. They’d beenlucky to escape with one to call their own and only a few bruises to show forit.

“I don’t know where you’re getting all this ‘fair’bullshit,” they grumbled, “Life hasn’t been fair to either of us, so why botherwith it?”

“Because,” their twin said, adopting a lofty tone. “Ican’t, in good conscious, accept this gift without giving you something ofequal value in return because I know how hard you worked to get it. Not tomention it’s the right thing to do. It shows good moral character and a strongsense of self. ”

“Says who?” Noire asked with a sneer.

“The heroes of old,” Blanche replied, inclining their headto the book in their lap.

Noire studied the tome bitterly, mouth twisted into anunhappy frown. The orphanage they’d been raised at hadn’t had any teachers, butthrough the years they’d learned basic letters. Made it easier to live life onthe run when you knew that you wouldn’t be arrested immediately for duckinginto some jewelry shop or which shops allowed scamps to loiter in front oftheir entrances to beg for coins.

Since squatting in the library, Blanche’s appetite forliterature had only been expanded by their illness forcing them to spend theirdays in solitude. They poured over the dusty books they were able to scavenge,treating their musty, sometimes moldy pages as though they were made of gold.Often when Noire returned from carousing in the outside world for the day, theyhad accumulated several grand tales from their many hours of reading and wasmore than willing to share their newfound knowledge.

Not thatthey couldn’t read the stories on their own, of course, but they loved thesound of their twin’s voice.

“You know what,” Noire drawled finally, an idea sparking intheir mind, “How about this: you tell me a story and we’ll call it square.Deal?”

“That’s still not-”

“It’s either that or nothing, Blanche. You know I won’taccept anything else.”

Blanche scowled at them for a moment then nodded slowly.“Fine,” they said stiffly, “I’ll tell you a story. Any requests?”

“Tell me a fairytale,” they said, finally taking their halfof the pastry out of their twin’s hand, “Something with the sea.” Noire thenshoved the treat into their mouth without a second thought, almost groaning howthe buttery, flaky bread seemed to melt down their throat. They watched asBlanche mimicked their motion, enjoying their obvious pleasure at the tastealmost more than their own.

“A fairytale about the sea, huh…” Blanche said slowly,carefully wiping the crumbs off their mouth and licking their fingers clean asthey thought. Their lips spread into a large grin and they leaned over Noire tosnatch a thin novel from the pile on the other side of them, setting the largebook off to the side in favor of their new interest. “This one’s a translatedtale from a far off nation, but I think it fits your specifications perfectly, mon chou.”

“Oh?” Noire said, tossing another board onto their littlefire to keep it fed before getting comfortable against Blanche’s side, “Let’shear it then.”

“Very well,” they said, sitting straighter and raising anarm so that Noire could tuck themselves against their side and peer down at thepages, “This is the story known in its homeland as ‘Den lille havfrue’, and though there are several translations ofthis text that slightly alter the meaning, the story itself remains mostly thesame: Far out in the ocean, wherethe water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, itis very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many churchsteeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath tothe surface of the water above…”

Ten years ago…

“Noire, will you just-”

They slammed the door behind them, rattling the small shackentirely. Noire tugged off their boots impatiently and threw them against thewall, almost hitting their twin when Blanche finally managed to open the door.They flopped onto their cot and turned away from the other, glaring holes intothe rough wood that made up the sides of their abode. The cracks between theboards were wide enough little slivers of the sun’s dying rays could be seen,and that alone only served to worsen their mood.

“Noire,” Blanche tried again, voice softer now so as to notget the landlord of the tenement on their backs (again) as they tugged offtheir own boots and lined them up properly near the door, “Please. Don’t beangry with me. Not now.”

“Why?” Noire hissed, hackles rising as their shouldershunched, “Why did you agree to it? How could you?!”

“It was the only way to get you out of there!” Blanchesnapped, pacing, “You were heading for the gallows, Noire! I toldyou - several times, in fact! - that consorting with those low-life ruffiansthat play at being sailors would get you into trouble. And I was right!”

“You don’t know shit!” Noire argued, sitting up so they could glare attheir twin properly, “We had a plan! I was gonna lure the guards off while theystole what we needed and then all of us were going to meet up and-”

“Don’t be a fool, monchou. You’re better than that!”they said, rounding on them, “Those cowards ran off and left you to take thefall! If I hadn’t agreed to take a commission on Admiral Willow’s ship, youwould be floating belly-up in the bay right now!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Blanche!” they hissed, standing andmarching over to their twin with bare feet, “That’s not the only reason youtook the commission and we both know it. Last month you were swooning about theimportance of his ‘great mission’ to study the migration of glowing whales orwhat-the-fuck-ever and you’ve been salivating to get your hands on a copy ofhis charter for the next voyage ever since they decided to dock here last weekto resupply.”

“Admiral Willow’s research is not-” Blanche cut themselvesoff, throwing up their hands in frustration, “Ugh, it doesn’t matter. You don’tcare!”

“You’re right, I don’t give a rat’s ass about that stuffyprick,” Noire growled, “But I do care about you! How could you abandon me likethis, Blanche? I know what we have isn’t much, but isn’t it enough that we’retogether? It used to be, at least…”

Blanche reacted as if their twin’s words had struck themphysically, recoiling with a pained expression. They looked away from Noire,their stark white hair falling into their face and obscuring their eyes. Bothof their breaths were heavy and an aching silence descended for a handful ofmoments while they struggled to collect themselves.

The twins both craved things they could rarely obtain,though their goals differed in recent years.

Noire, well, they desired fine things and power - richnessin life that could only be afforded by the very wealthy or the very lucky.Stealing was not anything new to them, and stealing for the sake of providingfor their twin was almost second nature at this point, despite the danger andthe many, many protests. They lied, stole, and cheated with little remorse andlittle concern for the consequences.

When one lived like every day was one’s last, one didn’tput a lot of stock in ‘what ifs’ as time was better spent providing for themoment.

Blanche, by comparison, seemed drawn to more immaterialthings. Knowledge, understanding, evolution. They snuck into lectures, listenedto speeches, and visited the city library so often it was almost like a secondhome. They were obsessed with the future, charting stars and studying the seauntil patterns arose and, when they connected them and put the phenomena topaper, they became a savant scholar.

One could only be filled with a brilliant, burning desireto live to see the next day from the moment one faced one’s own mortality.

“Like it or not, there’s no changing it now, Noire,” theysaid finally, softly, voice brittle, “What’s done is done. If I don’t boardthat ship in three days’ time, they’ll come for me and throw you into thegallows regardless.” The words hung in the air, heavy with regret, saggingunder a yet-unnamed emotion that bordered on resentment.

Then Blanche turned on their heel and walked off, slippingout onto the small balcony so as to climb up onto the roof. Noire was leftstaggering in their wake, throat tight and eyes burning in the face of suchepic futility. They strode over to Blanche’s cot, fingers itching for somethingto throw, to destroy, and it only seemed natural to take it out on an objectthat did not belong to them personally. Something was tucked under their twin’spillow, poorly, and when they lifted it they froze.

A pale blue cover stared mockingly up at them, the imprintof some slender-tailed figure with long, flowing hair lightly carved in thecover. The leather was faded and the pages yellowed with age, but the thinnovel showed years of tender care and gentle, continuous use.

Noire flipped the book open with numb fingers, eyes tracingthe letters with distant fondness as they read a passage their twin had ever socarefully underlined.

‘… Nothinggave her so much pleasure as to hear about the world above the sea. She madeher old grandmother tell her all she knew of the ships and of the towns, thepeople and the animals. To her it seemed most wonderful and beautiful to hearthat the flowers of the land should have fragrance, and not those below thesea; that the trees of the forest should be green; and that the fishes amongthe trees could sing so sweetly, that it was quite a pleasure to hear them. Hergrandmother called the little birds fishes, or she would not have understoodher; for she had never seen birds.

“When you have reached your fifteenth year,” said thegrandmother, “you will have permission to rise up out of the sea, to sit on therocks in the moonlight, while the great ships are sailing by; and then you willsee both forests and towns.”’

They scowled, heartsick as they read the passage again, thewords sliding through their mind and sticking in odd places, caught on thevestiges of too many emotions to count.

‘Nothing gaveher so much pleasure as to hear about the world above the sea.’

The whole situation was an impossible mess. Blanche was afool to try and save them. Noire didn’t need saving in the first place! They’dbeen fine and their friends, the ‘ruffians’, definitely would’ve met them atthe meeting place. They would’ve-

‘“When youhave reached your fifteenth year,” said the grandmother, “you will havepermission to rise up out of the sea-’

Everything would be fine. Noire could take their place onWillow’s ship and then find a way to sneak off at the earliest convenience. Shouldn’ttake more than a month, maybe two. Blanche could stay here in the meantime,where it was safe, and then-

‘When you havereached your fifteenth year-’

Noire swallowed and shut the book, breathing harshly asthey tucked it carefully back under the pillow. They strode over to their cotand sat down carefully, running a hand through their hair as the tears at laststarted to fall.

‘When thesisters rose, arm-in-arm, through the water in this way, their youngest sisterwould stand quite alone, looking after them, ready to cry, only that themermaids have no tears, and therefore they suffer more. “Oh, were I but fifteenyears old,” said she: “I know that I shall love the world up there, and all thepeople who live in it.”’

Five years ago…

Noire stood in the back of the crowd, the hood of theircloak pulled low over their face as they watched the proceedings from theshadows. In their hand they clutched a letter, the parchment rent with creasesfrom numerous rereadings. A stage had been erected near the port and the largeplaza that led out to the sea was filled to the brim with people from all walksof life.

Finding passage on a boat had been hard, and resulted inmaking some deals that would be difficult to slide out of later. Harder stillwas watching their beloved twin, so much taller now since the last they hadspoken, be sworn to the service of the aristocracy.

‘“But thinkagain,” said the witch; “for when once your shape has become like a humanbeing, you can no more be a mermaid. You will never return through the water toyour sisters, or to your father’s palace again; and if you do not win the loveof the prince, so that he is willing to forget his father and mother for yoursake, and to love you with his whole soul, and allow the priest to join yourhands that you may be man and wife, then you will never have an immortal soul.The first morning after he marries another your heart will break, and you willbecome foam on the crest of the waves.”’

Noire grimaced and turned away, ducking down a dark alleyand striding away from the chorus of cheering and jubilation. So what if a newcaptain had been added to the fleet? So what if they promised to clear the seasof the loathsome pirate scum that so frequently attacked merchant ships, weigheddown with the spoils of their rich masters.

“You see ‘em?” Amelie asked, seeming to slide out of theirshadow just one block away from the event.

“Yes, I did,” they replied, words clipped even as theyslowed down enough for her to walk beside them. They were annoyed that shewould even ask, but the irritation at her served as a welcome distraction fromthe agony that was swirling in their chest, attempting to claw up their throatin the moment they opened their mouth to continue, “You have a good time?”

Her answering grin was bright and she shook three largepurses at them gleefully. They blinked in surprise when she tossed one of themat their chest, barely managing to catch it.

“What-”

“It was pathetically obvious that you were too distractedduring the proceedings to actually do your job, so I took the liberty of liberating an extra for you,” she said, waving off their quizzical expression,“Oh, don’t look at me like that! You’d have done the same for me. Besides, Idon’t want to be weighed down if it comes to a matter of fight or flight.”

Noire snorted, rolling their eyes and tucking the heavycoin purse into their belt before tugging their cloak forward, obscuring itfrom view. “What about that third one?”

“Oh, you know,” she said vaguely, a fond smile on her lipsas she sighed, rolling a coin between her fingers in an impressive display ofidle dexterity, “Since we’re here, I might pay our favoriteapothecary-turned-blacksmith a visit.”

The grin they gave her was positively roguish. “Need to getsome grinding done? Perhaps you have a dent that needs some pounding,hm?” They received a punch to the arm for their teasing.

“More like ‘I need to get a new set of daggers because someone can’tseem to stay out of trouble for more than five minutes’,” she replied with asnort, using her one good eye to pin them with a glare, “What’s with you, huh?You convinced the captain this city would be ripe for the plunder - which,granted, it is thanks to this ceremony - just for the chance tosee your twin, and then you don’t even talk to them?”

Noire’s buoyant mood vanished immediately and they scowled,looking away from their companion and refusing to answer as they rounded acorner that took them closer to their destination. Against all their wishes, adeep, unceasing bitterness brewed within them, exceeded only by the love andanguish that existed in equal parts in their heart when they thought of theirtwin.

‘“Do you notlove me the best of them all?” the eyes of the little mermaid seemed to say,when he took her in his arms, and kissed her fair forehead.

“Yes, you are dear to me,” said the prince; “for you havethe best heart, and you are the most devoted to me; you are like a young maidenwhom I once saw, but whom I shall never meet again…”’

Now…

The storm raged, two ships locked in a deadly firefight asthe sea heaved and frothed around them, decks swaying in the maelstrom as waveafter wave pounded against each of the ships’ hulls, striking the wood like thefist of some angry god. The rain fell in a thick sheet - yet even that couldnot quell the fires that had spread across much of the aft, flames burningbrightly in the gloom.

In the middle of their own ship, deaf to the shouts and canon-firegoing off all around them, Noire stared at their twin. Blanche glared at themin equal parts poison and dismay, sword drawn and pointed at that chest. A thincut bled on their right cheek, matching the gash on Noire’s left shoulder.

“Reckless,” Blanche said coldly, “You always were.”

“Oh, do me a favor and find another pot’s shade to commenton,” Noire hissed, “I do so tire of you discussing mine, bouilloire.”

Blanche sneered at them, their ponytail swinging sluggishlydespite the fierce wind, bangs plastered to their face and ruining the effectof their venomous expression. Noire longed to walk over and embrace them, topush the unruly hair out of their eyes and kiss their cheek. They knew, ofcourse, that Blanche’s saber would find a new sheath between their ribs themoment they took their first step, so they refrained.

Their own blade already felt heavy in their hand, its edgestained with their twin’s blood.

‘“We havegiven our hair to the witch,” said they, “to obtain help for you, that you maynot die to-night. She has given us a knife: here it is, see it is very sharp.Before the sun rises you must plunge it into the heart of the prince; when thewarm blood falls upon your feet they will grow together again, and form into afish’s tail, and you will be once more a mermaid, and return to us to live outyour three hundred years before you die and change into the salty sea foam…”’

“Did you know?” Blanche asked, the two of them beginning tocircle one another again as another volley of cannon fire split the night, “Didyou attack this ship because you knew I was charged with defending it? That wewould be forced to fight?”

“Not everything I do revolves around you.”

Blanche tilted their head, a coy smile twitching on theirlips as they asked mockingly, “Doesn’t it?”

Caution fell away as Noire sprang at them with a growl,steel meeting steel as Blanche readily deflected the blow. They danced acrossthe slippery wood planks of the deck, retreating and attacking equal measure assalt water sloshed around their boots. Their swords met, metal ringing in theirears as they glared at one another, teeth bared in matching, feral grins, harshbreaths fanning each other’s faces in the few seconds they stood close beforethey broke apart.

Crashing against one another over and over again, likewaves on the beach.

Speaking of waves-

“Boss!”

Noire whirled away from their twin at Amelie’s scream, eyeswild, distantly registering the fact that Blanche’s second-in-command (What washer name? Andromeda? Anora? Oh, right, Annie.) had gotten the other’s attention in much thesame manner. They both became aware that everyone, men and women on both sides,were screaming in fear and rushing to one side of the deck.

Lighting split the sky, illuminating the darkness in a waythe fires could not, and Noire suddenly understood why - a colossal wavegreeted them, stretching almost, it seemed, to the heavens.

Their twin looked over at them, pale in the firelight,precious seconds wasted at Noire studied the sheer terror reflected in theirgreen eyes. They both scrambled to the mast, losing their footing as the shipbegan to tilt upward with the swell of dark water. Blanche reached it first,snagging a rope as the world truly began to turn at an outrageous angle, andNoire hastened to follow their lead.

People screamed as they were flung from the deck, boxes andcanons flying through the air and falling into the ocean. The twins hungsuspended in the air, almost perfectly parallel to the deck, and watched thesailors and pirates alike streak past and disappear into the night. The othership, the one Blanche had been tasked with defending, was too heavy to risewith the water and was rolled immediately, the sound of wood splinteringgroaning into the night and the mast collapsing with a harsh ‘crack’ asthe people onboard were thrown into the sea.

There was a horrifying ‘snap’, barely heardover the roar of the rain and the howling of the wind, and suddenly Noire wasfalling. Their descent was halted when an arm flashed out, catching theirforearm in a vice-like grip that very nearly ripped their arm out of socket.Blanche stared down at them, the strain evident in their expression at the shipcontinued to climb up the wall of water.

‘She bent downand kissed his fair brow, then looked at the sky on which the rosy dawn grewbrighter and brighter; then she glanced at the sharp knife, and again fixed hereyes on the prince, who whispered the name of his bride in his dreams.’

“Don’t-” Blanche gasped, trembling with the effort it tookto keep them anchored, “Don’t let go!”

“I-” Noire began, flinching when Blanche’s storm-soakedrope also began to fray, eyes wide even as another flash of lightning revealedthe crest of the monstrous wave just moments before it crashed into the side ofthe ship. Their twin let out a harsh scream of agony, the motion jostling themas they help each other tightly.

The rope would not hold them both, Noire realized, a coldfeeling dread washing over them as they dangled helplessly in the air.Accepting it as truth came easily, after that. They stared up at their twin,blinking the rain out of their eyes so they could take in all the details.Then, inhaling deeply, they reached up to tug the leather cord around theirneck off before prying Blanche’s hand away from their forearm.

‘She was inhis thoughts, and the knife trembled in the hand of the little mermaid: thenshe flung it far away from her into the waves; the water turned red where itfell, and the drops that spurted up looked like blood.’

“Noire!” Blanche cried, struggling as best they could, therope fraying further, “Stop! What are you doing?! You can’t-”

Noire pressed the pendant into their twin’s palm, anembossed raven and dove circling each other glittering in burnished gold,smiling bitterly up at them. “Live well, mon petit chou. If Icould be so lucky, I would wish to be reborn with you again someday.”

Then, they let go.

“NOIRE!”

‘She cast onemore lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw herself fromthe ship into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into foam.’

They felt something break the moment their back hit thedark water below, paralyzed for a moment before the pain, before the panic, setin and they began to flail instinctively. Where was the surface? There was nolight, no sound, only cold darkness all around them. Noire felt something brushagainst them and jerked away, able to make out the faint shape of a corpsedrifting down alongside them.

Their vision blurred, saltwater stinging their eyes as theycontinued to look around wildly, heart hammering in their chest as theyselfishly continued to search for even the smallest speck of light. They didn’tstop until their limbs refused to move, chest burning with spent breath. Theirtears mixed with the water around them.

For all their sacrifice, they weren’t even sure Blanchewould survive the storm long enough to hate them for it. A bitter hopeflickered in their heart, the edges of their vision going darker still than thewater around them, heart pounding in their chest and mind. It could almost becalled a song, though the voice they thought they heard was not one thatrecognized.

They very nearly wished they could throw away theirprevious life and all their numerous mistakes so as to not be burdened by it intheir last moments. Yet, in the same vein, they would not trade a single memorywith their beloved twin, not even for all the riches in the world.

Noire closed their eyes, clutching their chest as the lastof their air escaped their lips, and embraced death…

Not yet…

The first sensation that returned to them was one ofannoyance. A fitting choice, given their personality. Everything was too loud,too bright, and the urge to relocate the soothing dark silence from before wasstrong. They could hear the whooshing of something nearby, a soft, wetrustling, and there was a bothersome warmth blossoming, too hot, against theireyelids.

Something brushed against their foot, a cautious touch.They groaned, mumbling under their breath as they moved their leg up and away.There was a pause, then the touching continued, firmer this time and with moreobvious curiosity.

“Amelie,” they growled, throat raw, “I swear to-”

“Who’s Amelie?”

Noire’s eyes shot up at the unfamiliar voice, quicklylooking down their body to see an equally unfamiliar man who was currentlymessing with their feet. He met their eyes and smiled. They let out a loudshriek and kicked at him, scrambling back along the sand. There was a sharppain in their palm as they scraped across some rocks, but they could care less.In fact, they grabbed a few and started chucking them in the stranger’sdirection.

“Hey!” cried the blond, ducking away from the rocks, “Easy!I’m not gonna eat you!”

“Who are you?!” they demanded, hoisting a larger rock asthey attempted to stand, “Where the fuck are we? Why do you… have a…”

“A tail?” the man supplied helpfully, lifting said tail outof the water so they could see it better. The day was obnoxiously bright (astriking contrast to the last scene of their memories), and the sunlight caughton the golden scales, making them glimmer and shine like freshly-minted coins.

The rock dropped out of their hand.

“It’s finally happened,” Noire murmured, weak legs fallingout from underneath them, “I’ve finally lost all my senses.” They stared at themermaid (merman?), tongue flicking out to moisten their lips when he threw hishead back and laughed. It was a sonorous sound, bright with mirth, like waterfalling on crystal before echoing in a cave. Then he closed his mouth, theworld fell into mundane silence once more, and Noire felt the sadness of afading dream.

“You’re an interesting human,” he said, smiling at them,his sharp teeth also gleaming in the sunlight, “I’m glad I pulled you from thatwreckage.”

“Wait, you did what now?” Noire asked, sitting straighter.

The merman looked at them like they were stupid. Theydidn’t appreciate that very much.

“I saw you and that other human dangling from that shipwhen the wave came,” he said, propping his chin up with a hand, his golden tailflicking as he spoke, “Then you let go. Man, was I surprised when you did that!I thought plunder-humans were supposed to be greedy!”

The first part of his statement made something tickle theback of their mind, but as they chased the thought, the memory, it slippedaway. “Plunder-humans?” Noire mumbled, snorting and waving a hand, “Oh, youmean pirates. To be fair, I’m incrediblygreedy even by those standards.”Their lips turned up in a familiar smirk, pride they didn’t know they possessedfilling them.

“Oh, really? But you sacrificed yourself for that other onethat you’d been trying to stab a few moments before!”

“I…” The tickling came back, a grey white noise thatconsumed their thoughts and made their head throb, their eyes unfocusingbriefly. When they shook themselves out of it, the merman was staring at themintensely. His blue eyes, blue as the sea, shone gold for a moment and hecocked his head.

“Oh,” he said simply, “Some spirit fucked you up good.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Noire snapped,spine rigid.

The merman’s lips twitched. “You were comparing somethingin your last moments, huh?” he said, voice lilting, almost a tease, “Someonemust’ve heard you-”

‘… would nottrade a single memory with their beloved twin, not even for all the riches inthe world…’

“-and decided to make a deal,” The merman blinked, wavinghis fingers at them, golden webbing connecting each clawed digit to itssiblings. “A human life is greater than its weight in gold, or so I’ve beentold. What you’ve traded away must’ve been incredibly important to you, though.Sorry for your loss, I guess?”

Sweat beaded on Noire’s brow, the chilled kind that usuallyonly accompanied nightmares. They could feel it - a piece was missing fromthem. It was as though a huge chunk of their life, of their very soul, had beencarved out and they were left with nothing but the barest hint of what itcould’ve been. They struggled with the loss, clinging to the vague impressionson the periphery of their mind, but the practice did nothing but make theirhead swim.

They could recall some things - their crewmates, theirpersonality traits, the fact they had been born poor and lived even pooreruntil the day they joined a pirate crew. But why had they joined the JollyRockets? Why had they done any of the things in their life? There was a reason forthem becoming a sea scourge, they just knew it, and it had something to do with—

A smile– a laugh– a name– an emotion sostrong and twisted it wrenched a sob from their throat. But, just as quickly asthey felt it, as they stood on the precipice of remembering, everything slippedthrough their fingers like sand being stolen by the tide.

They were suddenly very aware of the huge, gaping hole intheir life, the edges of which were sharp enough to cut them to the core.

“Fuck,” they said eloquently, clutching their head, “Fuck!”

“Go on, let it all out,” the merman said blithely, eyeshalf closed as he made himself comfortable on the sand, looking all the worldlike he intended to waste the day away sunbathing in that very spot, “I’ll behere when you’re done throwing a hissy fit.” He even yawned, pointed teethflashing brightly before he smothered the noise with a hand.

They opened their eyes and glared at him, pointing a fingerangrily. “You!” they said, all but crawling toward him, “You are going to helpme remember!”

“And why should I do that?” he said, shifting slightly asthey approached.

Noire floundered for a moment then rallied. “I’minteresting, remember?” they said, waving a hand, “But not half asinteresting as I was when I had all my memories.” The merman perked up at that,and they smothered a wry grin. They had a hook, now it was time to reel him in(and, yes, the puns were absolutely necessary). “From what little I can recall,I was pretty great.”

“Yeah?” he said, tilting his head. “How great?”

“The kind of greatness that gets put into books and sentall over the world!” they exclaimed, “I’ll bet stories of me and my crew havebeen translated into hundreds of languages by now!”

“Hey, wait, I know that word!” the merman said, sitting upwith a bright smile, “‘Books’! I’ve heard about those, but I’ve never actuallyseen any before. They don’t fare too well in the ocean, I guess. You humans putyour stories in them, right?”

Noire blinked at him dumbly. “Well,” they said, bemused,“Yes.”

“And you can read them? Books, I mean.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” they snapped, continuing beforehe could reply, “Yes, I can read. I’ve read tons of stories over theyears.” A memory - or, rather, the lack of one - teased them for a moment, andthey were left with the vaguest impression of a small fire crackling in a dustyplace.

“Great!” he said, scooting over to flop the majority of hishuman half into their lap, “Tell me a story, human.”

“My name is Noire,” they said, shoving him, surprised byhow cool and heavy he turned out to be, “And get the fuck off of me!”

The merman pouted up at them and threw his arms aroundtheir waist like a clingy child. “Aw, come on, Noire!” he whined, tail flingingwater onto them both as he wiggled in dissatisfaction, “I wanna hear somehumantales! None of my friends ever get anything good from the sailors on thedocks - only stuff about how difficult it is to fuck females when they wear somany ‘petticoats’ and ‘corsets’.”

Noire grimaced, angry barb dying on their tongue as athought occurred. “Okay, I’ll tell you a couple of stories-”

“Yay!”

“If you agree to help me get my memories back. Youcan, right?”

He studied them for a moment, a true frown marring hisfeatures. “Well, yeah, I can get them back. Might take a bit to track down thespirit that took ‘em, but… why do you want them back so bad?” he asked, browsfurrowed, “Maybe you’re better off without them.”

“No.” The word slipped out without a thought, but itwas the conviction that startled them both. Noire cleared their throat andcontinued. “No, I think… I think I want to be whole again. I want to find myother half.” An image surfaced in their mind, hazy and disjointed, but theythought they could make out the figures of two birds circling each other.

The merman looked up at them curiously, tail flickinglazily in the surf. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, “I’ll help you get your preciousmemories back.” He tugged himself further into their lap, sprawling over themin an outrageously inappropriate amount of familiarity. “But your storiesbetter include me in them. I want a star role!”

“Wait, I thought you wanted, uh, humantales.”

He waved a hand, getting comfortable. “I changed my mind! Idon’t want to know about your life in bits and pieces - you can tell me about that when we get you memories back. Fornow, tell me a story.”

“A story for my memories,” they mumbled, letting out a softhuff, “Somehow that doesn’t seem entirely fair, but I’m not going to complain.”

“Some things have more worth to other people,” the mermanpointed out.

They grunted and looked out across the shimmering waves,noting three islands off in the distance, large blobs on the horizon, each witha distinct shape. Glancing up, they saw seabirds cawing and fluttering about,feathers gleaming in the sunlight as they danced in the sky. There were legendsabout birds, just as there were tales about islands. Their lips twitched,recalling and combining bits and pieces of they could only half-remember,stitching them into a narrative.

“Okay,” Noire said, “I have your story: Do you see thoseislands over in that direction? Yes, those three. It’s said that three greatbirds live there, each with their own element that, if left untamed, would runrampant with destruction and the world would turn to ash. But, don’t be afraid.The birds listen to a master, a guardian bathed in silver moonlight that rulesthe oceans of this world. It’s said the guardian’s song soothes the souls ofall who hear it, and quells the fighting of the three birds who, at their core,wish to rule the world as their own. This, my scaled friend, is the story offour idiots the somehow got tangled up in this ancient mess…”

#Pokemon Go #And The World Will Turn to Ash AU #Noire #Blanche #Spark #Team Instinct #Team Mystic #Team Rocket #my writing #blanchesparkcandela #ask #reply #this is 7k holy shit #lays down and does not get up #Hans Christian Andersen #is a man after my own heart #and by that I mean he wordvomits descriptions in a way that is #goals

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01/16/2017 DAB Transcript

Genesis 32:13-34:31 ~ Matthew 11:7-30 ~ Psalm 14:1-7 ~ Proverbs 3:19-20

Today is January 16th. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian. It's great to be here with you. I am in the rolling hills of Tennessee and you are wherever you are in the world, but because of the time that we live in and the technology that we have, here we are together around this global campfire that is the Daily Audio Bible. So we all come in and warm ourselves and enjoy God speaking to us through his word. I'm glad we can do this at all, but I'm especially glad we can do this today.

We’ve been following this story of Jacob and he has been moving back toward his homeland where his family was. He left a couple decades ago. He needed to because his brother Esau was going to do away with him, so now he is returning a couple of decades later to find out if Esau is around, alive, what is going on. Yesterday we discovered that Esau is certainly alive and has come racing toward him with 400 men. We pick up today, reading from the New International Version, Genesis chapter 32, verse 13 through 34, verse 31.

Commentary

Yesterday we were talking about margin and we were talking about wisdom from the reading in Proverbs yesterday. Today in the Proverbs we find that God, the God of all is wise and uses wisdom to do the things that he does.

By wisdom the Lord laid the earth's foundations. By understanding he set the heavens in place. By his knowledge the watery depths were divided and the clouds let drop the dew.

We are being invited to conduct our lives using the same resource, wisdom, that God uses. So imagine if we lived wise lives because we walk with God and invite his Holy Spirit within us to guide every decision in our lives and then we use the wisdom of God to conduct ourselves, then we would be using the same thing God used to create all things in heaven and on earth. That is available to us if we will only slow down enough to pay attention to it. We all have a lot of experiences in our lives and if we would slow down enough to weigh those things out, we would find that we already have a measure of wisdom, and for the things that we absolutely do not understand or know, we have the Holy Spirit. And if we want to know what that practically looks like in a human life, we have Jesus who gives us a beautiful picture of margin in our lives when he says:

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Isn’t that how it goes? If we get up in the morning and go through a day and the day becomes chaos right from the get-go, right from the breakfast table it's chaos, and then you move into the work day and it's a mess and having to do all this stuff and backtrack and try to find ways to make progress, and then everything else falls apart and then it's a mess at home at night, what do we do? We fall into bed exhausted. But we also know what those days are like when we’re walking with God and when we’re walking with Jesus, when we’ve come to him because we are weary and burdened and he gives us rest. There is a wholeness, a peace in our activities. Things still happen. It can still be total chaos, but it is not all our burden to carry and it does not define our identity. All of a sudden we find we can systematically deal with all of these things correctly because we are using wisdom and we are walking with God as we were made to be. May we choose to come to Jesus just like he says:

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.

May we believe him.

Prayer

Jesus, we do believe you. It is just often we are like sheep who have just kind of wandered around. We’re just not even paying attention. We’re just looking at whatever is right in front of us. Sometimes we don’t even realize we’ve wandered astray. But that is not what today's going to look like and that is not what tomorrow is going to look like. We come to you. We invite your Holy Spirit. Holy Spirit, come. We need you. We need you active in our lives and so we open ourselves fully in heart, mind and will to you and your ways. Show us the path of today in every thought, word, and deed. Come Jesus, we pray in your name. Amen.

Announcements

Www.DailyAudioBible.com is the website. It's home base. It is where you find out what is going on around here, so check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at www.DailyAudioBible.com. There is a link right on the home page and thank you. It is those of you who click that link that allows Daily Audio Bible to be here each and every day. So thank you. You can use the ap as well. If you are using the Daily Audio Bible App, click the More button. It is in the lower right-hand corner. And the mail works too. The mailing address is P.O. Box 1996, Spring Hill, TN 37174.

As always, if you have a prayer request or comment, (877) 942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that’s it for today. I'm Brian. I love you. I’ll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Requests and Praise Reports

Hi, this is Judy in Utah, the other half of Steve from Salt Lake. Anyway, Happy New Year everybody. I called for a couple of people. Candace, I was listening to the Family Community Prayers and your song, oh my goodness, it just brought tears to my eyes and moved me so much. I'm praying for your son. I just want you to know don’t give up. This is for all parents with children that have addiction problems. Don’t give up. Don’t give up. Don’t give up. I have a son who is now just over 50 and I have been praying for years and he has only been clean and sober for the last five or six years. Don’t give up. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. God is good. For the woman that has a grandchild, they are concerned about schizophrenia, I have a daughter that is schizophrenic. She is in treatment now, but they didn’t diagnose her until she was 30. She is 55 now. You’ve got to get that child treated. Don’t worry about medication. Prayer is awesome. It works. But God provides us with doctors and medicines for a reason. If our daughter had been able to get the medication she needed when she was a child, her life would have been so different. She would not have lost her children to adoption. Long story. A lot of things happened in our lives. I just want you to know don’t give up, all of you that are battling with different issues. Lana, shout-out to you. The lady with the sadness who works in the salon, have your people write down their prayer requests. Pray for them when you get home. Keep them in your prayers at night. When you go back, ask them if they’ve had any answers to prayers.

I walk in circles around the yard. I do this every day. Sometimes I simply walk and think. Sometimes I walk and pray. And when I walk I'm not alone. I'm walking with the Lord. His Holy Spirit fills me up. His peace is my reward. He said he would keep in perfect peace the mind that is stayed on him and perfect peace is what I need when things start looking grim. There is evil present all around. I feel like I'm boxed in. I know I have to walk away to not be caught in sin. Help me, Lord, to boldly walk and know I'm not alone. The peace your Holy Spirit gives surpasses all I’ve known. Fill me Lord. Anoint me Lord. I long to hear your voice. Gently speak into my heart for making you my choice. I'm not ashamed to lift you up. My life is an open book. When asked if I believe your word, you only have to look. I try to practice what I preach, to lift my lamp up high. So someone else can see God's love by me just passing by. But darkness doesn’t like the light for the clarity the light brings. But those of us who love the light will walk like we have wings. Because truth is light and light is love and truth will set you free. Jesus is the light of God and all the world to me. He said we would sometimes have to flee, we all have __________. Do not stand and tempt yourself by trying to test yourself. Been there, done that. Always lost. The power of sin is too strong, but I know when I rely on him I win and don’t go wrong. And so I walk in circles and I do this every day. As I walk, “Lord, Lord, please walk with me and help me not to stray.” [email protected]. Once again, my love to the Hardin family for this wonderful podcast allowing the Holy Spirit to flow throughout the earth. Keep it flowing, y’all. Bye-bye.

Hi Daily Audio Bible. This is Andrew. I just want to pray for people that are somewhere else in the world and it has been raining a lot at our house and I really want to pray for people that are in other places that might have floods and so I just pray for that. Bye Daily Audio Bible.

Hi, this is Caroline. I'm a carer for Anna who can’t speak because she's got her genetic problem with her nervous system. I agree with Cherry Pie that this year one of her resolutions is fast from negativity and feast on positivity and which she is very happy that other people join the call. Thank you, Cherry Pie. Thank you, Sister. She would like to stand in agreement with Chantelle from Detroit and Sam from Australia in praying that our Heavenly Father __________ at the moment be it __________ or fire, relationship breakdowns or troops that are taking over or whatever hardship they are going through at this time to know that there is always God. He is __________ anything in the world that we think can push us. She also wants to pray especially for Lisa who lost everything in a fire recently. God will provide and tell you what to do, Lisa. Anna loves everyone involved in the Daily Audio Bible. Thank you especially Victorious Soldier, Blind Tony, and Brian and family for their encouraging words. Thank you. Thank you on behalf of Anna in __________ Australia.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible. My name is Bob. I'm calling from Michigan. I have been a listener for many years, but this is the first time that I have called. Three days ago I was diagnosed with throat cancer. During this time, I still don’t even know what stage it is, but I'm crying out to God that he gives me strength and endurance because I know he is going to send people, divine appointments to be around me that may need Jesus. I cry out to the community to lift me up in prayer, that I might be a bold witness for him during my trials, that I can keep my eyes on him, keep my focus on him so that I might bring some Jesus to the people around me. Let me be a bold witness for you, Lord. I know that I must be an ambassador for you and that you will work all things out for good. My trust is in you. I do not know what my future holds, but I know who holds my future. God bless you all who choose to pray. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family. This is Jay from New Jersey. Let's pray. Mighty, precious, matchless, holy and righteous God, Father, we adore everything that is you. God, you are everything that we need. You’ve created everything. You are everything. And without you exists nothing. Father we confess and repent of any sin that we’ve committed. God, we thank you for this light which you’ve given us. We thank you for this moment. We thank you for the ability to experience it. God, we come before you in this new year with some issues that were not able to be resolved last year, but God, as your word declares, is anything too hard for you? No! We know there isn’t. So God, we ask that you will send your Holy Spirit now to comfort us as we wait patiently for you to move in your perfect will and your perfect timing. We thank you, God. We love you, God. We praise you, God. In the name of Jesus Christ we pray, amen.

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