#before going home. either a fox pelt (with a face and everything) or an old kimono | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mostly-mundane-atla · 3 years

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Hey, it's that bit of writing I started working on 800 followers ago! I genuinely appreciate everyone being so patient on this and also just being so respectful with talking culture in general. I'm still getting used to it. Hang tight on that glossary, I'll post it asap

Edit: here's the glossary

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It was a challenge to live on the Tundra, but never as much as when the Ikunmiut claimed the Southern Water Tribe as their territory and demanded tribute from the locals.

The whaling captain of one village assigned his own son, Aasrivak, to bring food to the soldiers, as a show of good faith. Aasrivak's younger sister, Tulugak, insisted on going along.

"Tulugak, my own daughter," the captain pleaded, "your mother and grandmother need your help at home."

"But Papa," she insisted, "how can I stitch a straight line or shoo birds from the drying rack if I don't know if brother is safe?"

Knowing he could not deter his daughter, the captain instead turned to his son and said, "Keep her behind you."

"Kangiqsirunga," Aasrivak answered, nodding and bringing Tulugak in the back of the sled with him, between his arms so she wouldn't fall. "I will, Papa."

"Now hurry," their father said. "The only thing worse than an Ikunmiu is an angry Ikunmiu."

Aasrivak nodded and cracked his whip, signaling the musk-dogs to run, and they were off.

The air they rushed through bit at her face with stinging cold, but Tulugak did not regret her decision. Her brother was a shining example of what a young Water Tribe man ought to be. Generous and kind, serious when it was required, but good-natured and gentle with his words. When she was old enough to eat solid food, he shared his with her. When he learned to carve, he made her a doll. When she hurt her foot helping him check traps, he carried her home on his back like a mother with a baby. When loose teeth made it hurt to chew anything, he brought her broth and soft berries that she could crush between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, rather than between her jaws. She'd often teased him for his propriety and his need for his tools to be just so, but she loved him dearly and couldn't bear if something happened and she couldn't be there to protect him.

When they arrived at the iglu near the ship with the Ikunmiut banner, Aasrivak began to unload the sled.

"Utaqqinga," he told his sister.

"But--"

"I told Papa I'd keep you behind me," he said, stacking the crates of goods and lifting them up. "Stay here."

"Itsingitchunga," she said, crossing her arms defiantly, as her only argument.

Aasrivak chuckled. "If you don't fear them, little sister," he said, "then you are a fool and shouldn't have come with me to begin with."

Hating to feel so useless, Tulugak went about checking the musk-dogs' teeth for rot, their paws for wound and splinters, and their horns for cracks. She petted them and scratched behind their ears for being so good and patient, and wondered how they did it. The smell was all wrong, even for her human nose, and they must have been able to sense that Aasrivak was in danger among the invaders.

Tulugak jolted at the sound of someone crashing to the floor. The possibility that it wasn't her brother would not occur to her, and she was already close enough to touch the banner by the time she realized she left the sled. The taste of blood poured into her mouth, as she had bitten down hard on her tongue. She was sure if the Ikunmiu who did it could her her call him a "gnashing wolf conceived of two pups of the same litter" as she wanted to, his fingers would be around her throat in the time it took to blink.

It wasn't Aasrivak collapsed on the floor, he stood and shielded her with his arm the moment she entered, but it wasn't an Ikunmii soldier either. The figure there had her hand at her face, where she must have been struck. And in spite of the red smudged on her lips, the lampblack drawn about her eyes, the scant garment she was wrapped in, she had an air of ancient power and dignity. More notable and haunting than that, she seemed to be a Water Tribe girl. A young woman, close in age to Tulugak herself. Her skin was like the browned fossil ivory, her eyes black and shining as baleen beads, and her unbraided hair as thick and dark as the winter's night.

How dare anyone strike her? Tulugak thought.

Her focus was only taken off of the young lady at the sound of an unfamiliar voice cooing, "Oh, this one's almost pretty as ours."

Aasrivak pushed her further behind him.

"She's--" he started, trying to think of something, "she's to be married, sir."

"What a shame!" This voice was a different one still, and refusing to look at them, Tulugak couldn't put a face to it. "Kept in the ice and snow, carving fish and sewing skins and breeding like a dog. Wouldn't you rather come home with me, dear?"

"Enough!" snapped another. "It's bad enough we have one. You, boy," Aasrivak straightened at this address. "See to it your father doesn't forget tobacco next time."

"Kangiq--" the word stopped as if it had barbs in his throat. Aasrivak and his sister both heard what the Ikunmiut did to people who didn't speak properly. "I understand, sir." He bowed his head deeply, and pushed Tulugak out before turning to follow her, but she could still feel those baleen colored eyes on them, begging for help and protection.

Aasrivak nudged Tulugak onto the sled without a word. His gloved hands gripped the handles with almost enough force to break them and then they began to shake. Without warning, he stomped down on the brake and Tulugak hit her belly on the bar.

"You shouldn't have left the sled," he told her, trying to keep his voice from shaking as his hands were.

"I thought they struck you down," she explained. "I thought you were hurt, I--"

"If they struck me down I could have gotten up, but you-- they could have taken you away!" His hands could have bruised her arms with how tightly he held them. "Ilitchuģipich? If I was hurt I could have recovered, but if they took you away from us, Tulugak, there are things they could do to you that we could never undo."

Aasrivak so rarely cried, and seeing the tears well up in his eyes was all the proof Tulugak needed that he truly believed the worst could have happened.

"And niviaķsiaķ? What of their captive?" she asked once she found her voice again, though niviaķsiallautaķ was the word that danced in her mind. "We can't leave her there if she can face such things too."

"She's not one of ours," he answered cautiously.

"It shouldn't matter what village she's from."

"No, that's not what I mean. Those men, they told me that they found a fox pelt the night she appeared. That she wouldn't leave without it and gave a great cry when they held it over flame. They have her cooking and making their tea now, as she had brought meat with her."

"She wouldn't leave her pelt?" she asked. "You mean she's--"

"Kayuķtuķ, it would seem."

Of course she was a fox; one of those foxes that take off their skins to reveal a beautiful woman underneath. The ones that look after babies that couldn't be fed and keep house for hunters. She couldn't have been a person, she was too -- enchanting? -- otherworldly. And of course the Ikunmiut took her. They took everything that didn't belong to them

"So she is among strangers in a world that is not her own," Tulugak stated, carefully feeling the words come out of her mouth. They felt strange, even though they rang true. "Aasrivak, we can't leave her to them! She ought to have her skin and be far away."

"We need to be far away from them too."

"Is her soul not made the same as ours? Is her current form not proof of that?"

Aasrivak thought to himself for a moment before he spoke up again. "If I agree to help her with you, little sister, you must promise me you will not put yourself in harm's way again. Can you promise me that?"

Tulugak stretched her eyebrows up as high ad they would go, nodding solemnly.

He threw his arms around her and inhaled as if to breath her fully into his lungs. She returned the gesture, holding her brother so tight nothing could take him from her.

"We'll figure it out when you help me mend the traps and nets," he said.

She nodded again, knowing he wouldn't see but would still understand. They got back on the sled and made their way home.

Aasrivak told Papa that he kept his sister behind him but didn't mention the soldiers' spirit captive. As agreed upon, the brother and sister came up with a few ideas as she helped him mend his net outside. Mama and Aaka were inside, spinning the greyish brown musk-dog wool with spindles on waterbending-powered wheels, and Papa was away, helping some returning hunters butcher their catch of seal and taking what they didn't need to the widows and elders.

They had for their supper the mikigaq that had simmered with fireweed and sourdock. No rice, Mama and Aaka decided. Mama realized that with the occupation, there was no way to be sure when more would be imported, and Aaka was proud that such a woman married her son. Cartilage had been cut into tiny pieces and added near the end in its place.

As she lay on her ķaatchiaķ that night, Tulugak found herself thinking of her mother's sister. She had three husbands and enjoyed that very much. The three of them jumped to bring her water when she suggested she was thirsty, carved beautiful beads for her to wear, and every night each would kiss the calloused thumb and finger in which she held her needle. What a cruel mockery of that the fox girl's situation seemed to her. She remembered hearing that Ikunmii women weren't allowed more than one husband, and that only some of the men could take more than one wife. No wonder they couldn't share a girl between them without striking her, couldn't play the husbands as they expected her to play the wife. It's all they can do, she thought before drifting off to sleep, steal and mock.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #eskimo on main #water tribe

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holy-honeybees · 4 years

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Snowdrift

AO3

Rating: T+ (for swearing)

Summary: Three friends and their dog get lost in a snowstorm while investigating the paranormal. Amidst swirling flurries of white, some lose their way and get lost in their memories, others lose sight of their friends and loved ones, and an unforgiving winter quickly fills in the footprints one would follow to get back home.

A/N: I started this back in November but sadly never finished the work. I was thinking of holding off till it started to snow again, but figured now was as good a time as any to try and finish this.The title is taken from Snail's House song "[snowdrift]" which you can check out here!

The last bit of fluff before the storm!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter One

Chapter Four

Mystery woke slowly the next morning to the sounds of hushed conversation, wriggling out from under Vivi’s arm as the heaviest sleeper of the group continued to snore away. He stretched out his hind legs, giving himself a good shake before blearily regarding the two young men deep in conversation. It would figure that the ghost, who technically didn’t need sleep, and the insomniac, who pretended that he didn’t need sleep, would be the first two up. The disguised kitsune mused momentarily over who had been the first to rise before discarding the train of thought as largely pointless at this ungodly hour of the morning. Instead, he trotted over to the rear doors of the van and, having long ago discarded all pretense of being a semi-normal dog, gripped the handle in his teeth and opened the door to the outside world.

“Mystery, wait—” The warning came too late however, and a sudden gust of wind wrenched the door out of his grip, tumbling him headfirst into a snowdrift as he lost his balance. The kitsune struggled for a moment to right himself, only to find he was buried almost up to his haunches in the snow. It would quickly be approaching Vivi’s knees, a height that Mystery was quite familiar with, having spent most of the human’s lifespan at the same level. The cold didn’t bother him much, with his thick fur coat providing protection from the freezing temperatures, but the prospect of having to hop through the snow was simply embarrassing. He had been just about to shift to his natural state when a large hand grasped him by his scruff and hoisted him back into the van, pulling the door shut behind him. Back on solid ground, Mystery quickly shook the loose snow from his pelt. He could see Arthur shivering in the corner, the icy blast of air he’d unintentionally let inside severe enough to even wake Vivi from her slumber. The girl mumbled sleepily and rubbed at her eyes.

“Good morning,” the kitsune deadpanned. Vivi glared at him, though the expression lost some of its heat by the way she was squinting as her eyes adjusted to daylight.

“Arthur and I were just talking about the situation outside,” Lewis said.

“The situation?” Vivi mumbled, putting forth a valiant effort to stay awake.

“The snow hasn’t let up at all,” the ghost said, “In fact, the van’s almost buried up to its wheel wells.”

“According to the radar, it doesn’t look like it’s going to be stopping anytime soon either,” the mechanic explained, gesturing to his laptop screen as he turned it to face the others. There was a large patch of icy blue stationary in the middle of the screen.

“Unless the satellite image froze again…I think the weather is starting to mess with the van’s internet connection,” Arthur muttered.

“So we’re snowed in?” Mystery surmised. Lewis and Arthur shared a look before nodding their heads.

“We were discussing possible solutions before you guys got up. With the snow so deep, the van won’t budge.”

“I could make the van ‘go ghost’ to see if we can get past the snow that way, but, well…” Lewis spared a glance to the mechanic who’d paled at the reminder of the monstrous purple semi-truck.

“It’s not the best idea,” the ghost concluded, “And the nearest town is still miles away, too far to walk,”

“Why don’t we just stay here?” Vivi suggested, already settling back into the blankets on the floor.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Arthur frowned.

“Not for forever, just until we figure out a solution we can all agree on or until we become unstuck. We’ve got plenty of supplies,” Vivi yawned. Mystery thought it must be exhausting being so optimistic and loved the young woman all the more for it.

“I’m not sure hot cocoa counts as ‘supplies’,” Arthur said, “but we do have enough food for at least a couple more days.”

“What about your ghost hunt though? You were so excited to go,” Lewis said.

“I’m excited to spend time with you dorks,” Vivi snorted, “Besides, yesterday was fun. We can teach you how to make a snowman now that you’ve mastered snow angels.” The specter huffed a fond-sounding laugh.

“I suppose that settles it then,” he said, Arthur nodding in agreement. The three turned to look at Mystery for his acquiescence.

“I have missed the snow,” the dog conceded.

“Good,” Vivi mumbled sleepily, her eyes already drifting shut again, “We’ll try to head out later today if the snow melts some. Otherwise, we stay until tomorrow. Just think of it…as a…snow day…” And the blue-haired girl was asleep once more, snoring away as if she’d never been disturbed.

“I better let my parents know about the delay. As if my dad wasn’t already worried enough …” Lewis sighed, shaking his head, “Would it be okay if I borrowed your laptop again, Arthur?”

“Sure, for as much good as it will do you with this crappy internet connection,” the mechanic shrugged, “The radar image either keeps freezing up or there’s a particularly stubborn snow cloud that’s decided to park itself right over top of us. I’ll check to see if I can get a better signal after another cup of coffee.” Lewis narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“What? The instant stuff isn’t that bad,” Arthur joked weakly.

“Yes it is,” Lewis replied, “And it’s not so much the quality of it that I’m worried about but rather the quantity of how much you drink.”

“Oh, come on! This will just be my—”

“Fourth cup,” Lewis interrupted, giving the mechanic a withering look, “I’ve been counting.” Arthur squawked in indignation, and Mystery barked out a brief laugh before turning back to the rear doors, leaving the two young men to squabble over what an acceptable caffeine intake should be for the jittery mechanic.

“Uh, Mystery? Looking to do a repeat performance from earlier?” Lewis said.

“I have to go outside,” the kitsune replied.

“W-Why, is there some-something out there?” Arthur asked in alarm.

“No, I just have to…” Mystery put his ears back in embarrassment, “Go.” There was a moment of silence in the van before the ghost and the mechanic broke into a fit of laughter. Vivi mumbled in her sleep and turned to her other side.

“Oh man,” Arthur said, wiping at his eyes, “Sometimes I forget you’re still kind of a dog.”

“Here, let me get the door for you,” Lewis offered. The kitsune grumbled in annoyance at the two young men’s antics. It appeared they weren’t just children in Mystery’s eyes after all. With Lewis propping the door open, the dog leapt from the van gracefully, landing in the snow in his kitsune-form so as to not get stuck again, his six tails lashing about in the wind. To his dismay, he saw that the indentation from where he’d landed minutes earlier had already begun to fill in, quickly losing its definition as the snow continued to pile on the ground. He would be very surprised if the Mystery Skulls managed to leave their temporary resting spot today.

“Just let us know when you’re ready to come inside, okay?” Lewis said. Mystery gave him a curt nod before trotting away through the snow to find some privacy, hearing the door of the van click shut behind him as he made for the tree line in the distance.

The kitsune truly had missed the snow, and it had been decades since he’d had a proper winter that reminded him of home. He admired the way his breath fogged around his snout in short bursts, thinking of centuries worth of winters spent in Japan. He wondered if he was growing old and senile, reminiscing the way he was, or if it was just his softer side showing. Oh, how the other yōkai would laugh if they could see you now, Mystery mused, passing between barren trees with snow-laden branches. A lot had changed since he’d first met Vivi’s ancestor and been subsequently defeated by her. He was no longer the feared and respected fox spirit he once was. But it was a change for the better, if for the company alone, the three young humans he’d come to think of as his pups. Mystery knew he would go to great lengths to protect them, having failed to do so before. The world was a dangerous place, something Mystery, as one of the dangerous things in it, was well aware of. He had thought that by playing the role of the unassuming mascot he’d been protecting them, but it had nearly cost him everything. The kitsune had chosen to keep silent when he knew they were walking into danger. He thought he’d had everything under control, that if it became absolutely necessary to intervene, he would be fast enough.

He was wrong.

Mystery had wondered if the cave would be the end of his little pack. By some miracle, fate had brought them back together though and allowed for reconciliation, which was more than he could have hoped for. Now, he would give his six tails just to keep his pups safe. As far away as he was, the kitsune could still sense them clearly, would be able to sniff out their souls from miles away if he had to. The burning, electric purple scent of Lewis, so different now from his once muted yet strong mulberry color. The familiar blue that was comfort, love, home, Vivi, the ephemeral sparks of her magic potential flickering through the blue like frost on a window pane. Arthur’s sunshiny yellow pulsing like a beacon. Even as the mechanic had healed in body and mind after being possessed, the damage done would leave Arthur vulnerable for the rest of his life, unaware that his soul was broadcasting an enticing signal to the supernatural.

Mystery thought back to the day before uneasily. Arthur had been so sure he’d seen…something in the road. Mystery had checked then to see if there was anything out there that could pose a threat to his pups and had come up empty, but perhaps the jumpy mechanic’s worried nature was beginning to rub off on him. Over-confidence had cost him dearly in the past, and it was a lesson the kitsune had taken to heart. Mystery pushed the boundaries of his senses to their limits, concentrating hard until he was confident he had encompassed a wide enough radius around their present location for his extrasensory search. Like last time though, he came up empty. There was the purple, yellow, and blue, his own strong red scent, but not another living thing for miles, and no supernatural entity he could detect waiting in the shadows. Besides the colors he was so familiar with, everything was as tasteless, scentless, and colorless as the snow Mystery waded through. Satisfied with his thorough search, the kitsune shook himself free of his troubled thoughts along with the fine layer of snow that had gathered on his pelt. He took care of his business before heading back towards the van and the blended colors of the souls he loved so well. They’re safe this time, he told himself, even as the feeling of being watched prickled at his skin and caused the fur along his back to stand on end.

---

As Mystery had predicted, the Mystery Skulls were not to depart that day, everyone preparing to spend another night on the floor of the van instead. The snow continued to fall, adding further inches to the foot or so already on the ground. The wind had picked up as well, now violently swirling outside. As the snowstorm increased in intensity, so too did Mystery’s feelings of unease. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched despite knowing that they were the only ones out here. The dog eyed the door to the van warily, and though nothing had passed beyond the rear windows except for more falling snow, Mystery still couldn’t force himself to relax. Had he any less self-control, he might have even let out a whine.

An unexpected, hesitant touch to the back of his head startled the dog badly, causing him to leap to his feet. The hand quickly withdrew as Mystery whipped around to look at the source of the touch, only to see Arthur staring back, eyes wide with panic. The kitsune couldn’t fault the young man for being afraid of him, particularly when Mystery had been the source of the mechanic’s impromptu amputation, but it still hurt whenever Arthur jumped at his presence or eyed him warily. This had all been so much easier before he’d come clean about the truth of his existence, when he could just ignore what he’d done, what he was. The kitsune wondered if he had kept his secrets to protect himself from their fear and rejection as much as he’d done so to protect the Mystery Skulls themselves. Arthur still raised his hand though and, extending it slowly, bridged the gap between them. The mechanic patted his head and Mystery did his best to ignore the tremors he felt running through the young man’s hand as he leaned into the touch.

“Y-You okay, pal?” Arthur asked in a quiet voice, “You seem kind of tense.”

“Just eager to get going again,” the fox spirit reassured as the mechanic continued to pet him, “Tired of being cooped up in the back of the van for so long.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but Mystery didn’t want to reveal the true cause of his unease, certain it would further unnerve Arthur. Vivi and Lewis were in the opposite corner of the van, chatting amicably as Vivi composed an email to send off to her parents while they visited her Granny Yukino in Japan. The ghost and the girl were blissfully ignorant of the troubled conversation he and Arthur were having. Vivi’s enthusiasm for their so-called “snow day” had yet to wane, and Lewis was more than happy to just go along for the ride. Mystery would prefer to keep it that way rather than worrying his pups any more than he already had. Arthur continued to stroke his fur as Vivi concluded her email and got up to pass the laptop back to the mechanic. He paused to give a final scratch behind Mystery’s ears, just the way the dog liked, before receiving his laptop with both hands. Mystery would have loved for the petting to continue, childish comfort as it may have been, it had helped settle him significantly. There was no one out there, no danger to his family. Just the wicked winds of winter howling outside. Accepting that, he contented himself to just lay down and listen as his humans talked.

“Any word on how your Granny is doing?” Arthur asked.

“She’s still recovering from her fall, but she’s tough as nails,” Vivi replied proudly, “Mom and dad are just there to make sure she doesn’t overdo it on her own. She has a hard time just taking it easy.”

“Still, I’m sorry about the timing, it’s not fun being on your own for the holidays.”

“It’s alright, I’ve got you guys to keep me company!” Vivi said, unwaveringly cheerful, “Besides, me and Mystery are this close to cracking the secret to my mom’s fried chicken recipe. It has to be in the dredging. I think we’ll have it perfected just in time for dinner on Christmas Eve! It won’t be so different from any other year that way, I just won’t have to fight my dad for the last drumstick.”

“I’m looking forwards to being able to cook Christmas dinner for my family again,” Lewis said, “It’s one of the few days the restaurant is closed, so it’s nice to see mom and dad relax and put their feet up for once. Plus, I make a mean lasagna.”

“Heh, I think Uncle Lance gave up on cooking for Christmas after that year he tried to do one of those beer can turkey recipes. Hell, the fire chief might’ve expressly forbidden it. I think we’re doing Chinese takeout again this year.”

“At least orange chicken is something normal to eat…” Vivi teased.

“Hey, don’t bring Surf’s Up Pizza into this!”

“It’s so nice to be able to see the restaurant decorated with poinsettias again,” Lewis said distractedly. He had a wistful expression on his skull, seemingly unaware that he’d even spoken aloud until he noticed Vivi and Arthur staring at him intently, their playful argument abandoned.

“Mom always decorates the restaurant with poinsettias around Christmas. I…I never thought I’d get to see it like that again,” Lewis confessed. Vivi smiled at the ghost warmly, giving his arm a little squeeze before she turned her attention to their other friend.

“What about you, Artie? Lance do much decorating at home?” She asked.

“I don’t think Uncle Lance is real big on Christmas. The only Christmas movie he’ll even watch is Die Hard. I think he only decorates ‘cause he knows I like it,” Arthur began, “Growing up with my dad though…we were on the road pretty often and spent a lot of nights in the car, even on Christmas. Not a whole lot of room for a tree in there, but he’d always make sure to get one of those little tree-shaped air fresheners to hang from the rearview mirror. We’d set our presents up on the dashboard under it.”

“You don’t talk about him a whole lot,” Lewis said.

“Y-Yeah, I try not to think about it too much,” Arthur replied, making an attempt at a casual shrug, “But…ever since it started snowing, it’s been hard not to think about it. I haven’t seen snow since I came to live with Uncle Lance, so I guess it’s just bringing up old memories.” The mechanic rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, seemingly caught off-guard by his own admission. Mystery nosed tentatively at Arthur’s hand and was rewarded with a few more pats to the head and a small smile from the young man. Over the tops of his glasses, the kitsune could see Vivi and Lewis exchange concerned glances.

“Well, I don’t have Die Hard with me, but how about a movie?” Vivi suggested, eager to offer a distraction to try and lift their spirits. Without waiting for a response, she pulled the bag she’d packed for the trip into her lap, digging through it fervently.

“Duet’s not real big on commercial, non-secular holidays. So far, The Tome Tomb has remained unspoiled by those tacky Christmas stations you hear in most stores this time of year. I’m actually not sick of Christmas yet,” Vivi said as she rummaged, “Aha! Here it is, the best Christmas movie of all time!” She displayed the DVD case to the others with a flourish. Mystery perked up as he saw the familiar title.

“A Nightmare Before Christmas?” Arthur said, his smile now returning in earnest, “That would be your favorite.”

“I watch it every year with Mystery! Things have been so hectic lately, I haven’t had a chance yet though. What do you guys think?”

“So long as I don’t have to listen to ‘Feliz Navidad’ for the rest of our road trip, I’m happy,” Lewis replied.

“We should still have enough charge left for a movie,” Arthur said, handing his laptop back to Vivi. It was all the encouragement she needed, and with a whoop of excitement, the young woman quickly popped open the CD drive and inserted the disc. They all crowded in front of the small screen, glum mood from moments earlier all but forgotten. Vivi wasted no time in piling the blankets on top of her friends, making sure they were all sufficiently cozy before finally pressing play. Mystery curled up on Vivi’s lap as the movie began, his chin resting on Arthur’s knee as the mechanic resumed stroking his fur. The four of them chattered happily about plans for the holidays and the upcoming year, joking and laughing as the DVD played. Eventually they lapsed into a comfortable silence and began to doze before the movie even finished. As usual, Vivi was the first to nod off, though she was quickly followed by Arthur to Mystery’s surprise. Lewis, seeing them fast asleep, bade the kitsune a quiet good night as the black coffin he rested in materialized in the back of the van, disappearing just as quickly once its occupant was inside. With all of his pups resting for the night, Mystery surveyed the warm scene he’d found himself a part of. Arthur finally looked relaxed, a bit of drool dotting the corner of his mouth, and Vivi had cocooned herself entirely in blankets, except for an arm that had been flung around the mechanic’s waist in her sleep. Mystery chuckled fondly before he spared a final glance out the window, still seeing nothing but snowflakes flicker past the glass. Just as the credits began to roll, he finally curled up in the blankets at Vivi’s side and joined the others in sleep.

Outside, something colorless as snow stood poised to strike.

#mystery skulls animated #msa #msa fanfic #mystery skulls animated fanfic #arthur #lewis #vivi #mystery #arthur kingsmen #lewis pepper #vivi yukino #Snowdrift #christmas mentions

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greyskywrites · 4 years

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Wolf’s Price

[First] [Previous] [AO3] [ko-fi]

Part V. Ima Vulgas || Mother Wolf

“News has come to me of what befell Morhall, and our king. They say my daughter fled into the snow, rather than be killed by the Kressosi. They say it is impossible that she survived, but I do not believe it. My Liana is a wild creature, fierce and stubborn. I do not know all of what the man we called our king did to her, but I know that if he did not break her spirit enough to make her afraid of the wild, then there is nothing in those wilds that can kill her, either. “My Liana will come home someday, and mark my words that when she does, she will be a greater woman to Saren than any queen who ever wore a crown.” Ervind Anarin, from a private letter

XIX. Journey

5.1k

Veland helped me to gather wood for a fire, though he was quieter than I liked. I had told him we were going to see my family, and that was all, but I knew he must be able to sense that something was wrong. He asked me why we had to leave in secret, why Muras and Todd weren’t coming with us.

“There are dangerous people looking for us,” I told him. “Men who would hurt us. That is why we have to go to my family. Muras and Todd… they cannot help us.”

Veland held his armful of wood, and bit his lip. “Why not?”

That was a good question, one that I didn’t have a satisfactory answer for. I smoothed Veland’s hair. “Because this is a journey we have to make on our own, puppy.”

Always, it should have been alone. I was foolish for thinking I could keep Todd and Muras with me and still pay my debts. I should have left them the moment my feet were once more on Sarenn soil. If I had not been so afraid…

We were camped in a hollow where the wind did not touch us. We had been traveling several days, and we had to stop to find food, or else we would starve before we got any further. Tyna had come up with some mushrooms under the snow that were a little past their prime, but still edible. Veland had shown me how to build a rabbit snare, and set them himself. Atsa children learn early how to make such snares, but I took him away before he could learn to hunt for foxes and weasels. He would have made squirrel snares, too, but the squirrels were still hibernating. We would have to hope there were enough rabbits around to feed us.

I eased myself down on the blanket by the fire, the baby kicking up a storm. They had hardly ceased moving since I left Morhall, as if they, too, were running. We set the wood we had gathered near the coals to dry before we added it to the fire.

Bili snorted under the trees, shaking his head. Tyna emerged from the trees, having been checking Veland’s snares. She had two rabbits on her belt, and something in her herb basket. “I have good news,” she said, “I found a squirrel cache.”

“What did it have?” I asked.

“Walnuts. There must be a tree nearby.” She sat by the fire, and pulled out her knife to skin the rabbits. I sent Veland to the stream to fill our soup pot with water, and stoked up the coals of our fire.

Tyna waited until Veland was gone to say what was really on her mind. “I still think we could have afforded the time to better plan, store up some food.”

“I was not staying another moment in that place.” I had been so angry I was afraid I would kill them. I hadn’t felt rage like that since I decided to call the Wolf down on Corasin. It had scared me bone-deep, to feel that kind of hate again.

Tyna let out a quiet sigh, and separated out the organs we could eat and those we could not. “Be that as it may, this was rash. How do you mean for us to make it all the way to the river?”

I wasn’t certain, yet, but I knew I had no fear of starving. I had not come all this way just for the Wolf to let me die alone in the wilderness.

I took the walnuts from Tyna, and set out in search of a flat stone on which to break their shells. Veland came back from the stream with half a pot of water, which Tyna helped him hang over the fire. In went the rabbits, and their hearts and lungs and livers. The rest, Tyna wrapped in the skins and carried off into the trees, to pack them in the snow far away from our camp.

Veland came to smash walnut shells with me, crouching in the snow, a serious little frown deep in his face. “Ima,” he said, “how long are we going to stay with your family?”

“I don’t know.” Truthfully, I did not know how we would be received. Julas had a family, a Kressosi wife… I was arriving some eight years too late, asking an enormous task of my brother. An enormous amount of forgiveness. The only thing I knew for sure was that Julas would not immediately turn me away. We had been as close as twins, once.

“Can I see my brother again?” That was how he asked to see Kip’s portrait. He had a hard time with Kip’s name, if he even remembered it, but the word for ‘brother’ he had learned quickly enough. I reached under my blouse to retrieve the locket, taking the chain from my neck.

Veland opened it carefully, squinting at the small painting. “Is he with your brothers?”

I shook my head. “No, puppy. He’s with his father, in Kressos.” Foolish of me, to tell Veland he might someday meet his brother. They would never meet, now. I had made sure of that. Perhaps it would have been easier to never tell Veland about Kip at all. To not instill in him the same sense of scattered loneliness I carried in myself.

What was I going to do when Julas started doing math, and realized how old Veland was?

My son was not going to be anyone’s king.

When we had cracked open all of the walnuts, we added them to the soup pot, and I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders while Tyna cooked. The baby kicked again, and I let out a breath.

Tyna glanced at me.

“He’s coming soon,” I said. “Before the next dark moon.”

“That would be early, still.”

“I know, but,” I held my own belly. “Veland and Kip both jumped like this, in the month before they were born.” It would be early, but not so early. Tyna nodded. “Then we had best find a safe place for the little one to be born.”

Veland snuggled up against my side, and I wrapped an arm around him. “Puppy,” I said, stroking his hair, “there is much I have to tell you, about where I came from. Who I was, before I was your mother.”

I was dreaming of being a wolf again, of running through the trees on four legs with a pack at my heels. I would wake up with snow and twigs in the wolf pelt I slept on. Tyna said no one could wake me before dawn. More than once, she had tended to Veland’s bad dreams while I slept.

We had found for ourselves a cave that was too shallow to host a slumbering bear, but deep enough to keep us out of the wind while we slept, and nurse a little fire.

Veland set his snares, and we didn’t starve, but it wasn’t enough to really ease the hunger. I knew we had to do something. I would not bring a baby into this cold when we were already withering. So in the night, when I woke inside of a wolf skin, I set out hunting.

Tyna about jumped out of her skin, the first morning she woke to find a deer carcass in our cave. Three wolves sat on the edge of our camp that day, watching as we butchered it. What we could not eat, or fit into our soup pot to keep hot for the next day, we fed to them. Everything that could be eaten was. We cracked the bones for marrow, sucking it out as we huddled by our fire, cut fat into our soup pot.

We stopped going hungry.

Veland would curl up with his head against my belly while I told him about my family—our family. I told him about my brothers, and my parents. “Your grandfather is passed now, but as far as I know, my mother still lives. She will be so happy to meet you.” I told him all the stories I had grown up with, of Anar and his sons, of great people in our family line. Veland would only move his head when the baby managed to land a kick against his skull.

“Ima,” he said, curled up next to me.

“Yes, puppy?”

“Are dangerous people looking for us because you used to be a princess?”

Tyna looked up from the tear she was mending in her coat, her eyes meeting mine.

I stroked Veland’s hair. “That’s part of it,” I said, “but not all.” I hesitated, and drew in a breath. “There is more I need to tell you,” I said, “about your father.”

Everything I had been through, I think it was telling Veland that he was the son of a king that was the most difficult. To try and explain to him, in a way he could understand, the importance of that, without terrifying him. He needed to be afraid, but he did not need anything added to his nightmares. “There are going to be people,” I told him, “who want to make you a king, too. A king is a very dangerous thing to be.”

I kept thinking of my meeting with Weta. Three kings will die on your account. “I won’t let anyone put a crown on your head,” I said, “because if they did, Veland, there is no count to the number of men who would want to take it from you.”

Veland stared at me so, it took everything I had not to look away. “My eba… was the king?”

I nodded. What else was there to say to a boy who could still count his age on his fingers? He did not need to know yet just what kind of man Corasin had been.

“But… Uncle Muras is the Wolf’s Son… he killed the king.” Veland’s face scrunched up in a frown. “Uncle Muras killed my eba?”

I took Veland’s hands in my own. “He did,” I said. “Because he is a soldier of Kressos, and that is what they do. That is why you can never be a king, Veland. Kressos will do everything they can to prevent it.”

“Would Uncle Muras ever hurt me?”

I gazed at my son, confused and afraid. “No,” I said, softly. “No, he wouldn’t.” If he had wanted to do anything of the sort, he had had ample opportunity.

Instead he had let everyone at Morhall believe that Veland was his.

I pulled Veland into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “I love you so much,” I whispered. “I will do everything—everything I can to keep you safe.”

Veland sniffled into my dress, and I held onto him while he hid his face from the world. These times when he was able to hide, they would be few and far between. I wouldn’t take any of that from him.

Tyna came over to sit beside us, and draped a blanket over Veland, rubbing a palm across his shoulders. “Little one,” she said, “there will be many people, too, who want to protect you, and keep you safe. Things will be hard, for a while, and they will be scary—but there will be good times, too, and friends you can trust. Your ima isn’t trying to frighten you, just prepare you.” She gazed at me a moment, and squeezed Veland’s shoulder.

Tyna had given up wearing her hair in a Kressosi style. It was braided now, beginning at the crown of her head. It had been a long time since I wore my own hair that way. Eleven years.

After we ate, as night closed in on us, I asked her if she would help me braid my hair.

Tyna looked at me a moment, as if I had asked something impossible of her, and then she nodded. By firelight, while Veland slept, she combed through my hair, gently working through the tangles. “I didn’t think you were going to tell him the truth about his father.”

“He deserves to know,” I murmured. “There will be no avoiding it.”

Tyna parted my hair, her fingers against my scalp. “And what are you going to offer the lords of Saren, if not a prince?”

“What they really want, and what they would get if I gave them a prince,” I said, “a bloody and brutal war.”

Tyna worked slowly and methodically with my hair. “And after?”

“I can’t give them rule,” I said. “I can’t tell them how to do it. It’s something that they will have to work out on their own. The only thing I care about is keeping anyone from ever again calling himself King of Saren.”

“Yes, I remember your hatred of kings.” Tyna’s voice was gentler than I expected. “What will you do with yourself, if such a war is won?”

I had thought so much on the inevitability of war with Kressos, of the pain and suffering it would bring, that I had not thought of an after. Of what my life would look like when my debt had been repaid.

I tilted my head forward, to keep the tension in my hair as Tyna finished the braid. “When war is done,” I said, “and my debt to the Wolf is paid… I will retire to Arborhall… and grow old and fat on cider and lamb.”

Tyna laughed softly, finishing off the braid. “An admirable plan. Will old Aziran-trained physicians be welcome?”

“I don’t see why not.” I was pleased that she intended to stay with us, at least for the time being. I had grown fond of Tyna’s stern and practical nature, even as she scolded me for doing dangerous and foolish things. She had even made sure Veland still practiced his letters, tracing them in the snow with a stick while we cooked and worked.

She had also saved him from poisoning us all with mushrooms that he found under the base of a particular tree.

When she tied off the braid, Tyna held my hair a moment more before she let it fall against my back. I touched the crown of my head, feeling how differently the weight rested on my skull. “It’s strange,” she murmured, “I didn’t think I’d missed this.”

“The hair, or being Liana Anarin?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer. Tyna got up to put more wood on the fire, to keep it burning through the night. It was the firewood, more than anything else that occupied our time now. We collected a great many pine cones to keep it lit. She seemed different, since we had left Morhall. I thought, perhaps, she felt a little guilty about all the people we had left behind.

“Where did you even get the name Sargis?” Tyna asked suddenly, looking up from the fire.

I laughed a little. “From a drunk man who asked me to marry him on the riverboat to Kressos.” I had almost forgotten him. He had been maybe seventeen, sloshed out of his mind, and I had grabbed his shirt to keep him from falling overboard. He had looked at me, smiled, asked me to marry him because I was “so kind and beautiful,” and immediately vomited over the side. “He said if I married him, I would be the most beautiful woman in the Sargis family.”

Tyna almost smiled. “Seems you’ve not had any shortage of suitors in your life.”

I shrugged, rubbing my belly. “For all the good it’s done me.” I got up to stretch, and we heard a wolf howl in the distance.

“One of yours?” Tyna asked.

“I don’t know. What makes them ‘one of mine?’” I settled onto the blankets and fur. Bili, who had already bedded down, reached over to sniff and snort in the middle of my back. The gelding that Tyna rode was already asleep, head tucked against his side.

“You’ll have to be better about pretending you understand how this all works when you’re talking to lords,” Tyna said.

“I’m not a fool,” I said, annoyed.

“No, you aren’t.” Tyna settled in, taking off her shoes. “I know you aren’t.” She rubbed her ankles, wincing. “You were right that I’ve been in Kressos too long. There’s so much theater to politics.” She pulled a blanket over herself, curling up on our makeshift bed of thin cedar and pine bows. “But there’s no sense worrying about all that playacting when we’re still in the woods, is there?”

“Can I ask you something?” I murmured.

“You can ask whatever you like, I can’t promise I’ll answer.” Tyna put an arm under her head, looking at me.

“Are you really here because you want a free Saren?” She had spent so many years in Kressos, killing for the crown prince—I had to wonder.

Tyna gazed at me a moment longer, and she drew in a breath. “That was why I decided to make a friend of you, when I realized who you were. I thought, finally, this can make a real difference. Something more than the nothing action of killing a single king and a single prince. Without something—someone—to remind the people what it means to be free, I couldn’t kill enough Kressosi nobles to make a single bit of difference.”

“And now?” I asked.

“And now,” Tyna murmured, “I am here because I don’t want to be parted from you.”

I gazed back at Tyna, not sure I wanted to ask her what she meant. I was still raw, still aching from what I had left behind. She had to know that. She probably knew, too, how badly I needed her help. How friendless I was in the world without her.

“Don’t look so morose, Princess,” Tyna said, calling me that because she knew it would needle me, “I know how hard things must be for you right now. You asked a question, and I answered. That’s all.”

The baby kicked me in the ribs, and I let out a breath, shifting. “You should have seen the way they looked at me when they told me. They knew what they had done to me, and they thought I would just… stay.” That was what burned me the most. That they thought they could just tell me, and everything would be the same, afterward.

“I can’t puzzle out for you what they were thinking,” Tyna murmured, “or what they hoped to achieve. I can’t say anything that will make you feel less betrayed—but I can tell you this: your story isn’t hinged on those men. It never was. You are the one who was chosen by the Wolf, and you are the one who speaks for a god. Yours is the story that will be remembered, and not theirs.”

I laughed softly, shook my head. “I don’t care about my story,” I said. “I care about my life.”

I ranged far in my wolf dreams, farther than I should have been able to. I was coming to know this forest better than I had known any place I ever called home, its hills and hollows and the clear cold streams, many of which were at least half frozen.

As we were not presently in want of food in camp, I was only wandering that night, sniffing my way through the dark trees. The moon above was a thin sliver, not enough to light up the snow on the ground. I had slipped past a slumbering woolly rhino bull unnoticed, and was sliding through the ferns when I caught the scent of a human camp other than my own.

I stopped, chest deep in the brush, listening. It was late, and the camp was quiet, but I did not think it was large. I could only hear a pair of elk breathing, grunting in their sleep. Hunters, I thought. That was the only reason to be this deep in the forest, so late in winter.

I crept forward just to be sure, careful to stay downwind so the elk would not scent me and panic. I could see the smoldering embers of a fire, a red glow against the forest. Two figures were bedded down together, against the side of one of their elk. I watched them from the brush, trying to get a scent on them.

And when I did, I recoiled.

As familiar to me as my own scent, I knew them.

Todd and Muras had come looking for me.

I backed slowly into the trees, and spent the rest of the scouring the area around them, looking for others. They couldn’t have come alone, that would be mad. Alone, in an unfamiliar forest—they couldn’t be.

I found no one else.

As dawn drew near, I was called back to my human body in the camp. I plunged into as many streams as I could, following them until I could no longer, in hopes that if my tracks were discovered, they would soon again be lost.

I woke with the sunrise and a gasp, bracing as if I expected to be found already. I sat up slowly, scanning our camp—but Veland slept on, and Tyna too. I was the only one awake in the thin grey light.

I carefully pried myself up, bladder bursting, and watched the trees warily as I walked into the brush. How could they be here? To guess where I was going was one thing, but to find the route I had taken—I didn’t know how they could have done it.

I pulled our soup pot from the snow we had packed it under and hung it over the fire to heat while I waited for Tyna and Veland to wake. I could hear the wolves howling again, calling to each other. “Don’t harm them,” I whispered to the winter air. “Please, don’t hurt them.” If more blood had to be spilled on her account, she didn’t want it to begin with them.

A raven croaked somewhere nearby, and I let out a breath, deciding I should make myself useful and take the elk to the stream for water. I scratched Bili’s neck while he drank, his ears flicking every which way, listening to the sounds of the forest.

Muras and Todd were to the north of here by a few days ride, and it would not take them long to spy the smoke from our fire, if they hadn’t already. Could we risk leaving the cave, and looking for a new place to shelter? There might not be another place that safe for a hundred miles, and I knew the baby was close. If we didn’t have shelter when it came…

Tyna knew something was wrong the moment she looked at my face. She sent Veland to gather wood, and looked closely at my eyes. “What is it?”

“They’re looking for me,” I said. “And they’re not far from us.”

Tyna looked north, as if she could see them from our camp. “Well,” she said, “that’s terrible bad luck for us.”

“As best I can tell,” I said, “they’re alone. No soldiers anywhere that I could find.”

Tyna made a puzzled frown, bending to tend to the fire. “I can’t imagine Morhall would let go of its only commander like that.”

I held my belly in both hands as I walked around the camp, stretching my legs. “I don’t know how they’re here, but if we stay here, they’re bound to find us.”

“Much as I agree, I can’t advise we move without knowing where we’re going,” Tyna said. We didn’t even have a tent to shelter us from the wind if we couldn’t find a place to shelter. “Perhaps your wolves can give them the runaround for a bit. Lead them astray.”

Perhaps. I wasn’t certain, though, and that uncertainty meant I didn’t want the pack anywhere near the two of them. I remembered too keenly the men that had died on our journey north.

We ate, and set out to gather firewood and things that might supplement our soup pot. Tyna was happy to come across some large mushrooms growing out of the side of a tree, holding a tiny bit of snow on their tops, which she told us were quite delicious and filling.

Veland was quiet and sulky, which I had anticipated, but that didn’t make me worry any less. He checked his snares, and we were richer three rabbits. Toward midmorning, my feet hurt too much to do anything but return to camp and begin drying the wood, and skin the rabbits.

The baby was still kicking fiercely, which did little to improve my mood. I was sore and tired and cold and somewhere out in the trees Muras and Todd were looking for me.

It seemed I had always ended up in the beds of men who refused to let me go. Perhaps it was time to give them up altogether. I seemed to have nothing but bad luck with them.

I knew, even as I thought it, that it was both unkind and untrue.

Kaspar, for all his faults, had always been good to me. He had wanted me to be happy, he had wanted to take care of me. He just couldn’t be what I needed him to be.

I had known Todd would always put Muras first. There was no betrayal in that. They were connected in ways that I couldn’t be, simply because of how long they had known each other. Even so, once Todd was satisfied that I was not dishonest, and that I did not mean to displace him, he had always tried to make me laugh. He had played with Veland, kept a careful eye on him when he absolutely didn’t have to. I knew there had been times when Veland had gone to Todd for help before he had come to me.

And Muras… I knew why Muras had lied to me. It wasn’t because he wanted to protect me from the truth of myself, or protect us both from it. He had lied to me because as long as he pretended he didn’t know who I was, he could keep me by his side. As long as I was only Lya Sargis, and not Liana Anarin, he could allow himself to love me. Lya Sargis was only his Sarenn mistress. Lya Sargis was someone safe to love and protect.

Liana Anarin was a great deal more dangerous.

I knew and understood. It didn’t mean I forgave him for it. For marring the memory of his affection and tenderness with a lie. That he had known what he was bringing me back to, known exactly what it meant to me—and let me believe that I still had to hide it from him. How much easier would I have slept on that journey, in those walls, if I could have known there was one place I didn’t have to keep my suffering to myself? If I had known that my secret was safe.

That was what I was most angry about—that Muras had denied me that safety. And now he had the gall to come looking for me.

When Veland and Tyna returned, I had cooked the rabbits and mushrooms into our soup pot, and we ate together as the snow fell around us, hopefully dense enough that it concealed the smoke from our fire. I wrapped my arms around Veland while we sat, and thought on Arborhall, with its warm hearths and my foremothers’ tapestries.

I wished my father had lived long enough that I could see him again, or that I had been brave enough to return sooner. I had nothing to put in his barrow mound when I went, but I hoped that knowing that I had lived, that my son had lived, would be enough.

I could not let my father’s spirit believe that he had consigned me to death.

It was my father that first taught me to ride. It infuriated my mother endlessly, how my father conspired to get me away from my lessons and had me always at his side, whether he was with the elk or holding audience. Some of my earliest memories were of being perched in my father’s lap, playing with a toy while he discussed wool taxes with with the shepherds’ guild. I was his firstborn, his only daughter, and he spoiled me terribly.

But I learned, from all those hours spent watching my father. I learned how it was that Arborhall was run, not just the household that my mother managed, but the estate over which my father was lord. When times were lean for the farmers and shepherds, they were lean for us, too. “Starving men are dangerous men,” my father told me. “Hunger makes wolves out of all of us. When that is true, it’s best not to be the fattest lamb on the field.”

When our younger brothers were born, Father took Julas and myself to see them, and each time reminded us that we must look out for our brothers, that our family must be a haven for all of us. The world, he said, was a dangerous place, and if we could not trust that we would be safe with each other, then we could not trust anything at all.

I hadn’t known what he meant, then.

My father’s brother, the uncle Barwald that Tyna once met in Azira, I think was the reason for that warning. From what I remember of him, he was not a bad man, but he was terrible at correctly judging what he could say in front of strangers. Father had to work hard to appease more than one person my uncle had offended.

But when they traveled together, it was my uncle who could spy and shoot down a hunting snow lion no one had yet seen or heard. Once, when they were charged by a woolly rhino bull—a beast which is near impossible to kill when enraged—my uncle managed to put a musket ball through the bull’s eye, bringing it to a stop just at the edge of their camp, where everyone else had already fled trying to climb into the trees. However much trouble my uncle caused with other people, my father knew he would not have survived without Barwald.

While Julas and I were young, I think my father realized with some dismay that I was a great deal more like my uncle than I was like him—that wherever I went, there would be some trouble trailing behind me.

#original fiction #prose #wolf's price

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kenzieam · 7 years

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The Right Wrong Choice - Chapter 1 (Eric X OC)

Rating: M (swearing, violence, smut - everything you’ve come to expect from me :* )

Genre: General/Humour/Drama/Eventual Angst

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

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This one just sort of came to me in the last few days, a new twist on Eric and Fox, I hope you enjoy it!

I’m so nervous, my hands are shaking. I try rubbing them on my pants, but it’s little help. The air around me is charged with anticipation and nervousness, so at least I’m not the only one shitting bricks right now. It’s my Choosing Day, and I’m currently sweating bullets at my Choosing Ceremony, waiting to hear my name called. The other eighteen year old Candor around me whisper and nudge each other as they wait too, I know all these people, we’ve gone to school together for years, with the exception of me and few others, everyone got Candor on their aptitude tests and plans to stay in their home faction. I got Erudite, which is a relief; I’ve never felt one hundred percent comfortable in my home faction, too much stark honesty, too much of everyone knowing each other’s business. I’m excited to go to Erudite, I love reading and learning, studying and observing. If it wasn’t for the mandatory physical education classes in school (ruined by those heathen Dauntless), then I would have spent all my time in the libraries or laboratories.

“Madeline Fawkes.” The voice of the Dauntless leader overseeing the ceremony today rings loud and clear. Oh shit, I’m up.

I stumble only briefly past my faction mates and walk to the bowls. The leader waiting for me, holding out the knife is tall and imposing, glaring at me like being here at the Ceremony, helping young dependents choose their factions is an imposition to him. I feel my spine straighten and glare back at him, this isn’t my idea of a good time either. Surprises flashes for an instant through his steel grey eyes, then a mask of impassiveness takes over. His fingers brush mine when he hands me the knife and I’m surprised by the warmth of his skin. It should match his demeanor instead, ice cold.

I turn to the bowls and quickly find Erudite, set between Dauntless on one side and Amity on the other. The knife bites my skin and I stop myself from wincing. The Neanderthal behind me doesn’t seem the type to tolerate weakness, and his stare is already boring into my back. He shifts restlessly and I glance back over my shoulder at him.

“Dauntless!” He calls out, loud and clear and I snap my head back to the bowls. NO! When I turned my head my arm moved, and my blood dropped not into the clear Erudite water, but onto the sizzling Dauntless coals. OH SHIT. He steps towards me, reaching for the knife again and I back away, shaking my head.

“No,” I mumble.

He steps closer, warning flashing in his eyes. “What was that?”

“No…I mean, I meant to choose Erudite.” I whisper.

He leans closer, something dark and sadistic flashing in his eyes. “Well your blood dripped onto Dauntless, so you chose us. Rules are rules. Now step in line, initiate.”

I hesitate, surely they can make an exception. A sneer pulls at his lips. “Or would you rather go straight to Factionless, Red?”

I flush angrily. Yes, I have red hair and yes, it is a bright, flaming fox-pelt red, I’ve been teased my whole life for it, have hid it in tight buns and behind black-rimmed glasses (all for show, I don’t need them) to try and look more serious and therefore acceptable to my uptight faction, but it’s never been fully successful. The one time I tried dyeing my hair was a grand failure, so I’ve tolerated the teasing grudgingly, but something about this big ape in front of me rubs me the wrong way.

“No, and don’t call me that.” I hiss in return.

Surprise flashes in his eyes for the second time and he leans down again, his breath hot on my neck as he growls into my ear. “I’ll call you whatever I want to initiate. See, you choose Dauntless, which means you chose me. I’m your leader now and this year I’m also a trainer. You’re mine and you’re getting on my bad side quick. Now fall the fuck in line or I will pick up that sweet little ass and toss it over there. Pick fast.”

He raises his head again and I see that he’s one hundred percent serious. He will pick up my sweet little, uh…. me and throw me into the Dauntless section if I don’t move fast. And, fuck, he’s going to be my trainer? Okay, move now, panic later Mads.

I hurry to the Dauntless session, and the applause, which has been scattered as everyone wonders what I’m doing up there shaking my head at the Dauntless leader starts up again and I get a few shoulder claps as I sit down. My heart is racing and as I look back up at the stage, he’s still watching me, although he’s already called out another name and is holding out the knife for them. He pulls his gaze from me at the last moment, focusing on the dependent in front of him and I relax back into my chair. I avoid looking up for the rest of the ceremony and my thoughts circle furiously in my head. What the hell just happened here? I accidentally chose the wrong faction and now I’m stuck with it. To be honest, I’ve never heard of this happening before, has it never truly happened? Or has everyone else been shut down like I just was? How many factionless had started out just like me?

The ceremony ends and Dauntless is the first faction to stand, I’m still not sure what I’m going to do but I do know I’m not going to be left behind right now so I stand and join the crush. We fly down the stairs, running way too fast to be safe and rather than being scared, I find myself laughing with the rest. We race out onto the street and start jogging towards the train trestles and my heart starts to hammer, I’ve never really been a climber. A few skinned palms and knees later, I manage to reach the top and, Jesus Christ, we’re not done yet, now we have to jump onto a moving goddamn train. Well, I’m not dying or being left behind without pleading my case first, so I start sprinting beside the train like everyone else and, I’m not sure how, but I jump and manage to grab the handle, pulling myself into the car. Panting, I collapse, falling against the wall beside another initiate. She glances at me, gives me a nervous smile then goes back to observing the rest of the train’s occupants. She’s dressed in Erudite blue and has a blunt black bob.

I smile at her, make a stab at being friendly. “Hi, I’m Madeline well, Mads.”

She smiles back and replies. “Raye.”

Far too soon our ride is over and I see the initiates at the front of the train car start to jump back off the train. Raye and I share an incredulous look and stand, shuffle out nervously to the edge of the car.

“Well,” I mumble, “see you over there.” Without waiting, I fling myself off, hear Raye right behind me. The landing hurts more than I thought, but my palms and knees are already skinned, so whatever. A loud woman’s voice calls us over to another side of the roof. Raye and I stay close to each other and cluster in with the rest. Two women stand by the ledge, both are petite; one has short blonde hair the other has dark skin and hair. I recognize the second girl, Christina Stevenson, she was two years ahead of me in Candor before transferring to Dauntless. Her sister is in my year, chose to stay in Candor. Both women are heavily pregnant.

“I’m Tris and this is Christina, we are two of your leaders. To get into Dauntless, you need to jump off this ledge here.” Tris gestures and the pack of initiates shift uneasily. Jump off a building?

“Who’s going first?” Christina asks.

We’re all looking at each other, not meeting the two leader’s eyes and I sigh. To hell with this, I need to get into the compound and find someone who can get me out of this jam. I step forward, noting the surprise on their faces. I’m a little surprised myself at my gumption.

Knees shaking only slightly I clamor up the ledge and stand up straight. Looking down all I can see is a black hole, great. I glance back over my shoulder then look forward again. Taking a deep breath, I jump.

I fall forever before crashing into what feels like a net. It hurts but I’m so relieved to not be falling anymore. The net tilts and I roll to the side. Hands catch me and lift me out, setting me on the ground. The hands belong to a tall dark haired man with a serious expression. He looks down at me, his blue eyes intense. “Name?”

I’m still disoriented from the jump, hell, I’m discombobulated from the whole f-ing day so far, so when I open my mouth, the first thing that comes out is my last name.

“Uh, Fawkes-”

He looks away and barks, “first jumper, Fox!”

“No, I-” Great, not only am I in the wrong fucking faction, but now I’m going to be called by the wrong fucking name too.

“Just go over there,” he points irritably and dazed, I comply, stopping and turning to look back at the net to watch the next jumper. I don’t recognize the boy, he’s Dauntless born and after a quick word with the man at the net, I hear, “second jumper, Maddox!”

I hear a door open and slam closed somewhere behind me and then a voice speaks low in my ear.

“You’re first? What, did the girls throw you off?”

I bite back a squeak of surprise and whirl to see the leader from the ceremony, the one who threatened to throw my sweet ass into the Dauntless section. For so big a guy, he sure moves quietly. He smirks at me and crosses his arms over his massive chest, raising an eyebrow, he’s waiting for an answer.

“No,” I grumble, turning back as the fourth jumper is called, I missed the third when Lurch here startled me. I hear a faint chuckle and grit my teeth.

Soon all the initiates have jumped and the Unfriendly Giant calls for our attention.

“Dauntless born go with Lauren, the rest of you lucky bastards stay here with me.” A little more than half of the group splits off and the rest of us instinctively cluster together, Tris and Christina have reappeared and stand behind us. He stares at each of us in turn, lingering a little longer on me before speaking.

“I’m Eric, Head Initiation Leader. Normally Tris and Christina would be your trainers, but they both decided to get knocked up this year and so the honour falls to me.” He smirks at the two woman and I catch Christina rolling her eyes good-naturedly back. “Follow me!” He barks, stalking off without waiting to see if any of us follow.

Shit, I think as I follow him, trying not to get lost in the maze of corridors he’s leading us through. He’s the Head Initiation Leader? That means his word is law about me staying here in Dauntless. My heart sinks, I doubt he’ll be any more accommodating the second time I try to explain what happened, he doesn’t strike me as someone who ever goes back on a decision once he‘s made it. Shit, I am so screwed.

#eric coulter #jai courtney #eric coulter fanfiction #eric divergent fanfiction #divergent #fanfiction #eric and fox

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serenexgreen · 7 years

Text

Kinda...

Wrote a sad conflictingshipping/oldrivalshipping drabble...

I don’t write like this??? Ever???

jfjrerk anyway here it is. it’s not good but it kinda helped me get out of a bad mood of my own...

Well you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow...

The gym had been closed, hell, when was it even open..?

The building seemed abandoned at this point; it was pitch black, the once lit up, neon floor panels were dark and untouched, the corners gathered dust, and the once liveliness of the place had disappeared, leaving behind a ghost town. The ace trainers of the gym, of course, left but only hesitantly. If there’s something wrong with a gym, there’s something wrong with its leader. The trainers did everything they could for their leader; they talked, battled (or at least tried to), brought family and other friends..But he only seemed to get worse.

They felt their damage was enough and left the poor man to himself in the emptiness of the Viridian gym…

Green spent his days, nay, months at his gym, young trainers passed by frustrated at the gym’s sudden closing but the leader paid no mind; he didn’t even notice them. He simply sat limp and lifeless upon his throne upon an empty stage, tossing a just as empty pokeball up and down mindlessly. His pokemon had not abandoned him but taken the burden of caring for their partner since he was in no state to care for himself. Green would forget to eat and drink or not want to, he wouldn’t talk to people, he wouldn’t go home; so his pokemon would bring him food, interact with him as best they could, and fly him home. The once charismatic, playful, joyful, and egotistical gym leader had been reduced to nothing but a shell within just a few months of the incident.

He blamed himself, he could never forgive himself.

Staring at the bottom of your glass

Hoping one day you'll make a dream last

But dreams come slow and they go so fast…

Dreams..He had dreams, but they all had been shattered.

She was his dream, she was the one who always challenged him, she made his position now as a gym leader possible...But she was gone wasn’t she? All he had left was his lousy memories and endless photos of himself and Leaf. Green tilted his head back and shut his eyes; those horribly happy memories washing over him again as if he continued to rewind a tape.

You see her when you close your eyes

Maybe one day you'll understand why

Everything you touch surely dies…

Dies...Dies..

The word made Green miss the ball he had been catching and he opened his eyes. His once unfocused eyes now narrowed in onto the floor rather aimlessly into space. Why did he blame himself? It wasn’t his fault she died, it wasn’t his fault she chose to go train on Mt. Silver; she was strong enough to hold her own….But he keeps thinking...He could have taken her out somewhere, he could have spent the day with her, he could have done a lot that wouldn’t have lead her to that god damned mountain---

The gym leader’s fists clenched, the first movement he made in so long, as he felt hot tears form in his eyes and rush down his face. A choked, guttural cry pierced through the thick silence of the gym before the red head began slamming his fists against the arms of his chair. He wailed the cries he held in at the news, he wailed the cries he had held in the nights before her funeral, he wailed the cries he held in seeing her casket knowing nothing but mangled remains laid there rather than a corpse. He had gone too long holding in his pain so he cried long and hard; soon enough Green felt his voice crack and his throat go raw. He was left coughing, and gasping as his cries reduced to hiccups and sniffles.

Only know you love her when you let her go

….

Let..go…

He’s heard that before…

“Green, my boy, I know it hurts you hearing this but you can’t sit here like this forever. You can’t let yourself waste away...We’re all hurt but we’re trying our best to move on..You loved her, but you have to let go of her if you truly love her...Let me ask you this...Do you think Leaf would want you sitting here like this..?”

Oak’s words echoed in Green’s mind as he sat there, recalling what he thinks might have been a few days ago. He lost track...

…

What did Gramps know..? He’s not married, nor has Green heard about anyone with his grandfather in the past either. It’s not like he doesn’t want to let go..it just..

It’s too hard to let go someone that meant so much.

He LOVED her more than anything. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to have kids...He wanted so much with her but now it’s all G O N E…

Staring at the ceiling in the dark

Same old empty feeling in your heart

Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast...

Silence fell over the gym once again as Green looked to the bruises upon the undersides of his hands and down his arm. Had he really been slamming his fists that hard..?

The young man seemed to come to his senses now; he smelled the thickness of the dense air and felt the need to leave. He wanted to be anywhere but here with his thoughts and memories.

Green dragged himself from his chair painfully for he hadn’t moved in hours; he walked through the gym doors, making sure he locked the building behind himself before taking in a deep breath of cool, night air..More like a sigh actually…

Green looked to the sky then…

He walked.

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you're missing home

Only love her when you let her go…

The gym leader barely noticed anything as he walked, he allowed his legs to take him where ever they wanted and he soon ended up in a forest..Wasn’t anywhere special, just somewhere near Mt. Moon. The wood was dark (naturally) but Green managed to find a large clearing where the moonlight beamed down beautifully and he sat there.

…

Leaf loved camping out on nights like this, and she would have really loved to see how bright the plentiful stars were and the large, milky moon. The gentle chants of clefairy and clefable carried on the wind like a lullaby; the redhead found himself laying out on the lush grass as he stared into the sky.

Being here almost felt like she was with him again…

Green bit his lip, a sob threatening to escape him as he furiously wiped away any oncoming tears.

“D-Dammit, s-stop crying you fucking baby--” he snarled at himself before opening his eyes again…

What he saw next surprised him.

A small tuft of brown and white had approached him...more like crawled into his lap.

It was an eevee; it was strange and very out of place to see one so suddenly. These pokemon were extremely rare and it seemed like nowadays the only way to have one is to know a breeder. They liked to stay out of sight of people more than the average pokemon but...This one came so close to him…?

“Uh..Hey there..? Heh..Didn’t disturb you did I..?” he asked fondly, a gentle hand extending for the creature to observe.

The normal type looked at the redhead, a worried look in her eyes. The gaze from the eevee’s big brown eyes seemed knowing and kind. She nuzzled against the hand before nestling into Green’s chest.

The gym leader stared down at the pokemon in shock as he gently cradled the fox creature. Pokemon could sense emotion can’t they? Did this eevee feel so much for him that it was willing to comfort him…?

The simple thought brought tears to the boy’s eyes again; he cried, but nothing violent this time. It was silent pain that he allowed to get out as he held the pokemon close to himself.

After Green had got the rest of his tears out, he looked up from the pelt he hid his face in and the eevee looked to him. The creature wasn’t making any moves to leave; in fact, is was like she glued herself to him.

Green stood up; exhaustion filled him..but also a sense of relief.

“I’m guessing you want to come with me, huh..?” he asked, a soft chuckle bubbling from himself. It’s been so long since he smiled..How could it be this pokemon brought that back to him..? Perhaps it was because the look in the pokemon’s eyes..the way it came to him..Felt like she sent it to him..?

“Well, you need a name don’t you?” he pauses, pondering for a moment. “Alright, c’mon Suki..We’re going home.”

Just as Green began walking off, a new partner in his coat and a glow of joy in his chest, he paused. He turned back to the sky with that trademark smirk of his. “Smell ya later, Leaf…”

“I love you…”

Cause you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you're missing home

Only know you love her when you let her go

….

And you let her go….

#pokemon #conflictingshipping #oldrivalshipping #KJWENKJWD SCREAMS #ooc i guess?#based this of of Passenger: let her go

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