Tumgik
#biggest 'nips in the kingdom
whamber · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
“ Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot…Somewhere where nobody knew who I was.I’d get some land and become a farmer…Obviously I’d take Merlin with me. He can do all the hard work. “
Farm life Mergwenthur AU, not as relaxing as Arthur maybe thought it would be but he’s got all the turnip stew he could ever want!
809 notes · View notes
sunraies · 1 year
Note
When Rafe tells you to sit on the comfiest seat in the house, your mind wanders inappropriately.
I don't know if this is what you were thinking x
Thigh Thoughts
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings - thoughts of thigh riding. Suggestion of drug use. Party setting
As requested above
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You had been searching for Rafe for a little while. He definitely wasn't down partying in the garden or in the main living room. The last place to check was on the balcony from the main hallway.
Even though he was known for throwing the biggest parties in the Figure Eight, he often kept himself away from the main areas. Choosing to hang out with Topper, Kelce, and Barry, chatting with beers and enjoying the vibe after Barry sold all the supply he'd brought.
"Hey, baby." Rafe smiled at you as you walked out onto the balcony.
"Hey." You smiled at him, walking over to him and wrapping your arms over his shoulders.
From up on the balcony, you could see the party happening below. It was almost as if Rafe had an area to serve his kingdom.
"Come have the comfiest seat with the best view in the house." Rafe looked up at you as he threw his head back.
You chuckled and kissed his lips before looking around the selection on seats.
There was a seat on the counch beside Kelce or space next to Barry on the love seat while Rafe and Topper took the armchairs.
You sat beside Barry as it was the closest to Rafe. You stared at his lap for a moment before Barry threw an arm around your shoulders.
"How's it going, Mrs Country Club?" He smirked, his gold tooth shining in the glow of the balcony lights. He offered you a smoke, which you accepted as Rafe watched you.
There was an almost disappointed look in his gorgeous blue eyes. He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs as you watched him.
Your mind wondered as you listened to the music and conversations around you. Maybe you should have sat in his lap. Was that what he had been offering?
Normally, he would pull you into it and hold you close, but he hadn't.
His leg bounced a little, something he always did when sat still, unless you were sitting on him. He sometimes would bounce to make you laugh. Part of you wanted to just throw yourself on to him and have him wrapped his warm, strong arms around you.
Your eyes wondered from his bouncing foot to his thigh. Watching the muscles move, you bit your lip. How good would it feel to straddle his thigh? Glide yourself along it, while his large hands hold your waist, holding you down and helping you keep rhythm.
You'd never rided his thigh before, but damn did you want to try now.
"Mrs Country Club?" Barry broke your thoughts as you hummed and felt your cheeks burn as Rafe stared at you.  "Did you want another drink?"
Did he know what you had been thinking? Could he have known? There was a small smirk on his face as he moved his legs, running a hand along his thigh.
"I. I'll go get one. " You smiled. "Four beers?" After everyone nodded, you hurried down to grab the drinks and get a little space to think clearer.
You squeaked as Rafe pulled you into his lap when you rejoined the group. His arms wrapped around your torso as he buried his face into your neck.
"This was the seat, I meant pretty girl." He kissed your neck before nipping your skin. "I sure hope I'm more comfortable than some shit old couch."
You nodded and leaned back into him, playing with his fingers after you placed the beers on the table. Your brain was still thinking about how it would feel using his thigh.
"What you thinking so hard about?" He whispered in your ear.
Your cheek burned again, deciding on whether or not to tell him.
876 notes · View notes
klbwriting · 3 months
Text
Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting
Chapter 8
Fandom: Aquman
Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader
Summary: Arthur and Orm discuss the attacks, YN and Orm get closer
Warnings: this is the smut, just some good ol' sexy time
Tumblr media
Orm let YN sleep through his conversation with Arthur. The council taking over the investigation of the attacks was concerning. Orm had asked Arthur for every detail about the meeting and what he knew about the current councilmembers. When he heard Orlan was now in charge of the investigation he frowned.
“Watch him,” Orm said. “See if you can investigate him. He is technically just behind Junior for the throne at this point and when I was king, he was always trying to weasel his way closer to me. At least until he invited me to dinner and tried to poison me.” Orm let that hang out there. Orlan knew poison, and those poisoned shots from the pier were unique.
“I don’t know if he could actually be behind all this though. His family has fallen in rank since you were king. They were found to be your biggest supporters and once everything you had done was revealed the lower kingdom kind of split. Half of them think you’re the best king ever, taking the fight to the surface, and the other half think you were a tyrant who attacks his own people for his agenda. The nobles however, they just follow power and once I had it and had to put you into prison Orlan and the few other nobles still sticking by you kind of lost support,” Arthur said. “Even his son, Leo, defected from him and went missing.”
“He went missing? Are you sure? Or did Orlan send him away so he could gather supporters from other kingdoms so he could stage attacks on the surface and blame me?” he said. Arthur considered this.
“I’ll look into it, see if anyone knows where Leo is,” Arthur said. He waved by and headed out. Orm went back into the bedroom and slid in bed next to YN. She snuggled back into him and he took stock of how she felt against him. His hand drifted up and down her side slowly, feeling how soft she was. He kissed her shoulder, then her neck, feeling her move next to him. She wiggled her rear against his pelvis, and he groaned, feeling aroused.
“Is that a trident in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” he heard her say and he laughed, moving to nip at her earlobe, drawing a shocked gasp. She pressed back to him more and he slowly moved his hand under the long night shirt, moving it up until he felt her breast. His fingers flicked over her nipples, drawing them to peak. She moaned softly and he lowered his hand to slide into her underwear, feeling how wet she already was.
“YN, I want you,” he whispered. She panted a little as she moved so she could reach back, hand sliding into his pants and gripping his member, pumping slowly. He hissed at the contact, hips moving to her hand. She let go and he frowned, but then smiled when rolled to lay on her back, looking at him. His hand found better purchase on her core, sliding a finger inside her. “Do you want me?”
“Yes Orm, I want you,” she whispered. Orm didn’t need told again. He moved between her legs, pulling the nightshirt over her head before leaning in and kissing her deeply. She moaned into his mouth, her own hands moving to push his clothes off until he was completely naked for her. She pushed him off her a little. “Wait,” she said. He froze. Had he done something wrong. He sat back on his knees, watching her. She sat up a little, shimmying herself out of her underwear and then she just looked at him.
“What’s happening?” he asked. She smiled at him, and he melted some, kissing her again. She pushed him back again.
“Stop for one second, I want to look at you,” she said, fingers moving over his chest, moving down to his stomach. She traced his scars, the lines of his muscles, connected the dots on a couple freckles he had, just admired him. As she memorized his form, he did the same to her. He let his fingers drift over her torso, feeling every curve, and finally he met her eyes again. The frenzy of earlier had changed and now it was slow. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time she didn’t stop him. He started the kiss soft before it deepened. He shifted so that she was under him, legs wrapped around him. He pushed gently, tip just brushing over her core. She moaned, moving her hand to guide him inside her. He didn’t push in fully at first, moving just a little bit, teasing her. She moaned out his name and he loved the sound, so he teased her again with a smirk. She let out a breathy laugh, smacking his ass to get him moving again. He pushed all the way in, hips meeting hers, and she cried out, gripping his shoulders. He kissed her face and neck as he started a rhythm, hips moving out and back, making sure to push deep into her. She grabbed behind her knees, pulling her legs up more so he could push further, and she whimpered when he hit a sensitive spot inside her. He focused on hitting that spot over and over.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered. She nodded, barely able to form words. “You feel amazing, please tell me you’re close.” She nodded again, his name spilling from her mouth again as she got louder. He loved the sounds she was making and desperately wanted to hear her finish. He focused, pushing to make her fly. He was rewarded with a cry of his name as she seized, gripping him tight with her entire core. He thrust a few more times before he too climaxed. He panted as he moved to the side, making sure he didn’t accidentally tangle their limbs together. She took a few deep breaths.
“I need a shower,” she said. Orm laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that, I can already feel my muscles getting sore.” She stood and he smirked, a little proud, as she walked a little crooked. She glanced back at him. “You coming?” He hopped up and followed her into the bathroom.
After a shower and another round of amazing sex they sat in the living room, discussing the attacks.
“I hate everything about this, I mean, I like that you’re here but why does someone want to frame you?” YN asked. Orm sighed.
“I did things that hurt others, not just surface dwellers, but other Atlanteans. So did my father,” he said. “I did try to get a good king but at some point, the ends justified the means, and sometimes those means involved sending the lower city into poverty to fund advanced weapons, sometimes it was arranging for my own forces to be attacked.” He shrugged. “If I were them, I’d want my head on a platter too. I shouldn’t be on the surface, almost free, eating cookies every day and hopefully having daily sex with the most gorgeous person on the land or in the sea.” He smirked at YN, and she rolled her eyes but blushed.
“Aren’t you a flatterer,” she said. “I just want to forget about all this crap for a while.” Orm thought about what he would do if he wanted to forget the world and just be. He stood.
“Come on, I have an idea.”
71 notes · View notes
mrsarnasdelicious · 2 years
Text
Just a Smutty Poly The Last Kingdom Dump.1
Tumblr media
Finan is W I C K E D at doggy
Sihtric prefer it when you ride him
And gods have mercy on Osferth in any type of coupling where he can press his face into the crook of your neck and just nuzzle and whimper there
Finan is fucking you doggy style, his fingers press into the fleshy parts of your hips, leaving bruises int he shape of his fingertips. He does not mean to hurt you, but his thrusts are so powerful he'd otherwise keep scooting you up the bed until your head'd bang against the wall.
Sihtirc holds you by the hips, too. While you ride him, his hands feebly hold onto the bony parts of your hips, his thumbs pressing down on your skin. He does his best to keep still, but his pelvis rolls up to meet yours every single time you sink down on him.
Osferth on the contrary keeps still. You're in his lap with gangly arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against his sweaty body. His face is pressed into the junction between your neck and your shoulder. With every slow undulation of your hips, he whimpers. Already desperate.
Osferth has the biggest cock, but defo needs to be taught how to propperly wield it.
Not that Finan or Sihtric are by any means small!!!
Though Finan is thicker than Sihtric
Sihtric is the loudest, whole Cookham/Bebbanburg/Winchester/whereever knows when you are with him. He is a moaner for true and his mind goes blank. There is barely getting a word out of him. At least, not anything sensible.
Finan is the dirty talker. He'll employ a husky, growling yet quiet tone. His Irish accent lends itself perfectly for the filthy things he is breathing into your ear. And by the gods will Finan get filthy!
Osferth is a whimperer. Sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly. Keening whimper he muffles in the crook of your neck or against your chest. He loves to smother his whining between your breasts.
Giving Osferth a blowjob, whilst he has no idea what to do with any part of him. Suddenly hus arms feel too heavy, his hands too clumsy and where to his face? What to do with his weak, wanting mouth?
Sihtric holds himself much better. Though he gets desperate real quick. He'll try not to claw at your hair or shoulders. He'll try to keep it down. He does not succeed. He is threading his fingers through your hair, gripping at your shoulder and babbling nonsense. Mostly he says 'please' and 'gods' just over and over while his thighs quake.
Finan is by far the best at taking a blowing. He keeps mostly composed, he stands firm and gently strokes your face. He praises you in a warm husky voice and smirks down on you. You're his good little heathen and you are doing so well for him. He fucks your mouth in a gentle pace, making sure it is what you can handle.
They all three love eating you out.
They will fight each other for a chance to be burried face first in your cunt
Osferth is at first not very good, but so fucking eager. He just wants all of it. He does full earmuff, sucking and licking on every part of your womanhood, whimpering all the while. He's drooling a little while he does it and grinds himself down on the bed with how wickedly hard it makes him.
He eventually gets better, though. After thorough instruction from Finan, he knows how you like things and to listen to your tells.
He can curl his tongue just into your gspot and it is as close to heaven as you will ever come.
Sihtric will never not be sloppy, but in a good way. He seems to be everywhere all at once. He's lapping, prodding his tongue everywhere and lacks pacing. The thing that makes up for his lack of consistency is that he does all of it. Suck, lick, nip, kiss, everywhere, until you cum.
Finan will not only use his mouth when he is eating you out. He fingers defo will get involved, too. Be it to rub your clit while he tongue fucks you or to fuck you on two fingers while he sucks your clit. He is absolutely going for overstimulation. He wants your wet arousal all over his beard!
Finan teaching Osferth how to eat you out! Of course Sihtric is watching and giving commentary
The Irishman makes sure he has Osferth's consent, of course!
He grabs his baby monk's coppery blond hair and shoves him between your thighs. He'll instruct Osferth exactly how to do it.
And gods will he praise him, when you are moaning and writhing in pleasure.
He might even bark at Sihtric to give Osferth some good eating out in his turn.
Secretly Finan loves being bossy to the other lads.
Am I still on about Osferth in regards to Oral, yes I am! Bc Osferth has no idea what to do with himself when he gets sucked off, keeping one of the other lads around when you blow him is always happy.
Osferth is all too glad to someone to snog or to kiss on while you suck his cock.
He'll be holding on to Sihtric's arm and side, clawing feebly while mouthing along the Dane's neck between desperate whines.
Or snogging Finan, tugging at the Irishman's hair.
He lasts much longer like that too. Keep him occupied, it works!
Osferth is very eager in sucking cock, too
Especially Finan's Because Finan praises him so well.
Osferth adores being praised
As does Sihtric
Finan is defo one to do the praising
He is not very wont to beg
Osferth and Sihtric all the more
Sihtric can go for it at any time, at any place. In full public if you were so inclined. He has no shame, as long as he is pleasing you.
Osferth on the other hand wants privacy. Even the fact that you might be heard having sex turns his ears red like beets.
Finan falls in the middle. He does not mind fucking you in the stables or the orchard when he knows no one is around, but he does prefer the privacy of a tent of chambers of your own.
Finan has the highest stamina.
But Sihtric the shortest refractory period.
All three of them love your breasts, they worship those little fun mounds.
SMOTHER Osferth with your breasts! He'll nose against your soft flesh, whining and licking and softly praising how sweet your scent and soft your skin. And a lot of 'oh god'.
He'll grind against your thigh while lavishing at your chest.
Sihtric loves to suckle at your nipples, pretending to nurse. Bonus points when you actually lactate. Sihtric will barely want to leave your bossoms.
No, genuinely, he just wants to curl into your and suckle on your tiddies.
Finan is more grabber. He loves having your breasts in his hands. Groping and tugging at your nipples and pressing his fingers into your soft flesh.
Sihtric is openly a freak.
He has no shame and he has kinks!
And he is more or less a sub
And he has no qualms in expressing it. He'll happily call you mistress/mommy/milady/anything you like. In fucking public!
He will also gladly discuss his kinks.
Wana know how exactly to tie him up, sure! How about we talk about spanking, all good
Finan is a freak too
Though he is more a freak on the DL. Sure, he is not beyond pinching your ass in public or nuzzling a hickey he previously left on your neck, when you are sitting around the fire with the gang.
But he knows how to keep the real juicy stuff under wraps until you two are in private.
OSFERTH THO
Osferth is the secret freak.
Pious ex monk by day, absolute freak by night!
He might like it when you choke him a little. And he might choke you too, with those long thin fingers carefully retricting your breathing.
And the hickies he gives you, oh gods!
He loves seeing you are his!!!
He wants people to see he is your too. Mark him up and feel him squirm against you.
Breeding is a thing for all three of them.
But Osferth is the worst of them.
534 notes · View notes
aurumacadicus · 1 year
Text
My kingdom for fics where okay wait a minute this has facets. Bullets then.
1) Steve doesn’t like to ask for things because it makes him feel weak. He’s part of the Greatest Generation (the GI Generation, if you will). He grew up experiencing the greatest economy and a technology boom (radio, telephone, cars), but he also experienced the tail-end of the Spanish Flu Pandemic and the stock market crash and following Great Depression. He grew up sick with a working mother and (in some iterations) an abusive father. This man would rather crawl off and cut a bullet out of himself than walk into medical and have someone else do it because he doesn’t want people to see him as fallible.
2) This is Tony’s biggest beef with him. He’s rich, he’s never going to be able to spend all of the money he has, and as such he likes spoiling his friends. And Steve never fucking wants anything, even seems distrustful and annoyed when Tony gives him things he’s sure he’ll like, like art supplies or a motorbike upgrade. He uses them begrudgingly at first because he doesn’t like waste and Tony sees him using them and just keeps buying those things for him. Steve hates it but he can also tell that Tony would be terribly hurt if he told him so, so he stoically keeps his mouth shut because he’s good at it.
3) Absolute fucking astonishment, this helps Steve see that he deserves things that are not Duty and he starts to heal a little bit. Doesn’t seek therapy tho, what is he, a pansy lol (😰) even though he could really use it. He is very tired of the entirety of the team telling him to see a psychiatrist. He was in a frozen coma for seventy years just leave him alone.
4) Steve and Tony start dating! Who didn’t see this coming tho. Anyway they start learning about each other, growing together, it’s all very sweet and Natasha started strangling Clint when he started to pretend to gag so that’s nice.
5) Steve becomes comfortable enough with Tony that he gets the courage to ask for something. Could be anything, really, but for purposes of this post let’s go with ummmm a dog. And Tony is immediately delighted! Steve asked him for something! This is wonderful! Forget saying “I love you,” this is a way bigger step (and quite frankly something he never believed would happen) so he’s over the moon! Of course we can get a dog! And by we I mean that I’ll pay for everything and you can walk it and clean up after it. (Steve is actually okay with this because Tony can barely remember to take care of himself when he gets busy, he just thinks that it would be nice to have something with a heartbeat to cuddle while Tony’s jetting off doing Important Business Things and Tony thinks this will be good because dogs have been proven to be therapeutic.)
6) Steve gets a dog, and it hates Tony. I’m talking growling when Steve isn’t near to hear it, snapping at Tony’s ankles (Steve always scolds it, and it stops for a while, but then Tony goes on a business trip and it starts all over again), peeing on anything Tony leaves lying around, it’s chewed up three StarkPads and torn apart his pillow. “It’s fine, it just needs a little more training,” he tells Steve every time it happens, because this is the first thing Steve has ever asked him for and he doesn’t want to ruin it just because he’s a little scared of this dog. It’s fine. Things can be replaced! And it’s only nips, sometimes running under his feet to knock him over. It’s fine. The dog loves Steve after all, and that’s all Tony really expected because he’s gone so often.
7) Tony is in tears in private tho okay. He keeps telling Rhodey and Pepper and Happy how scared of this dog he is and then always backpedals with “but Steve’s taking it to more intensive training!” when they make noises of concern. It’s not like it’s just him, either. The only other people the dog seems to like are Natasha and Thor. He sticks to the workshop unless Steve is home with the dog because he’s too scared to see it alone and makes Thor (or Natasha, on the rare cases she isn’t with him) take care of it while Steve’s on missions. It’s fine. It’s Steve’s dog! He asked for it! Tony knows if he complains, Steve will never feel safe enough to ask him for anything again. It’s fine.
8) “I can’t take this anymore,” Tony whispers, feeling like he’s about to break apart as he stares at the jagged wounds where Steve pried the dog’s teeth out of his hand as he and Thor try to wrestle it into its kennel. Bruce stands between them as he carefully escorts Tony to medical. Tony dreads seeing Steve after. Steve must know he’s going to have to make an ultimatum after this. He’s not going to allow a dog to attack him twice in is own home, not with how viciously it had attacked him this time. (He doesn’t hear how many stitches he needs, or how long the cast will have to stay on. He just sees Bruce go a little green around the edges before he takes his good hand between both his own, and at that point, he’s scared to ask the doctor to repeat herself.)
9) Steve immediately rehomes the dog. He doesn’t tell Tony how, or where, or with who. He just packs up everything dog-related into a box and leaves for a few hours. It’s like there was never a dog at all. Tony somehow feels worse than when the dog bit him, remembering the way Steve had pressed a stoic kiss to his forehead before he’d left. Maybe he should have offered to stay on a different floor while the dog was there, cited nonexistent allergies. The dog had been… it had really been good for Steve.
10) “Why didn’t you tell me to get rid of the dog?” Steve asks when he gets back. He wonders what he did to make Tony think he didn’t have a say in what lived in his personal quarters. Why didn’t he feel secure enough with Steve to admit the dog’s attitude toward him scared him? He would never have kept it if Tony had shown even an inkling that he felt unsafe. “It was the first thing you ever asked me for,” Tony whispers, ashamed. “I knew if I said I didn’t like it, you’d never feel safe enough to ask me for anything else.” Steve looks like Tony shot him, eyes darting from his face to his still-bandaged arm and back again.
11) Steve says they should go to therapy. “It’s not healthy, that you would let me hurt you, even via a dog, just because you think I want it. I would never want something to hurt you, Tony.” He’s man enough to admit, if only to himself, that he’s only going to go because it seemed hypocritical, telling Tony he needed help when Tony’s desire to please him had been borne out of his own issues. Maybe next time he wants something, he’ll be able to see how that affects Tony, and not just himself. He should have realized something was wrong. Tony gets along with Lucky just fine, even after being bitten. He should have realized the way the dog was reacting to Tony wasn’t normal.
12) “I found a stray dog on my run. I’m going to take it to the shelter,” Steve says. “I wanted to tell you, so you don’t think I’m standing you up for brunch.” Tony looks up at him, blinking slowly, before looking down at the dog cowering behind Steve’s legs. Squats. Holds his shaking hand out. The dog looks at him with big, wet eyes before darting out its tongue to swipe between his fingers. “Maybe you weren’t meant to get a dog. Maybe the dog was always meant to get you,” Tony says after a moment, and Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Yeah?” Tony reaches out, wincing, but relaxes when the dog patiently lets him scratch behind its ear. “Yeah.”
13) “I’m naming him Dodger because I found him in Brooklyn and at least he seems loyal to the borough,” Steve mutters darkly even as he reluctantly tuned into an LA Dodgers game, and Tony chokes on his coffee laughing.
70 notes · View notes
lullabyes22-blog · 9 months
Note
Today I was watching some admittedly grim footage of lions in the wild; a gang of three young males attacking an old alpha. They’d already killed his brother, and he could not defend due to the imbalance in numbers. A bite broke his spine and he faded away after letting out one last defiant roar.
It reminded me of FnF, of Silco’s mindset concerning the cutthroat world of power dynamics he is central in. We already saw Finn try and narrowly fail only thanks to Sevika’s loyalty; in canon Jinx gave him what many consider to be a mercy kill as his grip on his kingdom was already slipping and if it hadn’t been her it would’ve been someone else.
In FnF, does Silco expect death? He obviously stays prepared for every eventuality and is trying to groom Jinx to take up his mantle once he is gone, but is he doing so in anticipation of that moment being sooner rather than later? What is his headspace like in regards to potential fatality, and how his death might affect Jinx? Knowing her, if someone ended Silco she would never recover (which makes it even worse that it’s her in the series 🥲🙃).
(Sorry for the essay 😅)
Ooh that lion footage sounds brutal 😢
And absolutely in FnF, Silco is concerned about death as an immediacy rather than an eventuality.
I mention in the 'Microcosm' chapter that most Undercity men don't live past 45. Silco is already 42. His father died in his forties; Vander died in his forties (albeit that is your goddamn fault, Silco); he has an unhealable infection in his eye; he is the leader of a volatile new nation; he is in a high-visibility role; he is father to a child whose instability he's had a hand in exacerbating; he's caught in a vendetta against her extremely violent older sister; he's playing political games with Bilgewater, Piltover and Noxus.
Also he has no qualms about pissing people off.
Despite a blasé and devil-may-care attitude, Silco is very aware he's walking a tightrope that could easily become a noose.
Strangely, he's not so fearful of outsiders killing him. On his worst days, he can bluff his way out of deadly situations - and he's got a brute survivalist mindset. He revels in a challenge and enjoys living to the fullest (or appearing to) just to spite his naysayers - right before he nips their own lives in the bud.
His biggest fear is actually dying at the hands of his closest allies. In the series, the people who come nearest to offing him are his brother-in-arms, his right-hand woman and his daughter.
In the latter's case, she succeeds.
In FnF, he employs a number of safeguards to prepare for the threat. For instance, in future chapters, he promotes Sevika from his XO to Deputy Chancellor. Pragmatically, it gives her more leeway to make decisions in his absence - or in the event of his death. But it also keeps her at a greater arm's length, while making her answerable to him and only him.
Likewise, in future chapters, he begins funding Jinx's work via his own private channels, so she a) has a purpose, b) has his endorsement, and c) can carry out Zaun's fight on her own terms and navigate life in her own way. He even begins paying her a stipend by later acts when she hits 18 (hoo...ray, no more child labor? 🤔)
In his black little heart, he's extremely worried for Jinx - and how reckless and aimless she could become with his passing. Most of FnF is spent trying to empower her in different ways to be a terror on her own terms: teaching her how to play high-stakes mindgames, how to talk her way into and out of deals, how to keep her head above water in a crisis, how to outthink her opposition and plan ahead.
Ironically, while he empowers her, he also keeps her psychologically dependant on him and physically leashed to him due to his own abandonment issues.
Eventually, Jinx begins chomping the bit and stomping her foot, ready to go off and do her own thing - with people of her choosing. At which point his arc will be about evolving enough to let her go, so she's got a support system and a fulfilling life in his absence.
We have lots of friction and drama before he gets there. Stay tuned 😈💗
20 notes · View notes
barkspawn · 1 year
Note
I totally understand if this is beyond your purview, but I have a request for a farmer married to Shane, with Shane seeing how well Jas and farmer get along and bringing up if they would want to adopt her? Lots of fuzzy feelings and talk about how far Shane has come, and dealing with his self doubt as a father figure. Thank you whether you’re up for the request or not! <3
You all are making me realize all of the crazy shit I want to write lmao. Of course I'll write this! and probably whatever else y'all ask
I love it a lot actually and I ALMOST made her pregnant too for the drama lmao
Shane sat on the porch watching Amelia and Jas play in the small yard area by the house. Jas was a princess (who also was a knight) and Amelia was some sort of fearsome dragon. He smiled to himself as Amelia dramatically collapsed in her unfortunate death. Jas' giggle echoed through the farm as Amelia pulled the girl down and attacked her with tickles. 
The sound of Jas' laugh filled him with pride as he took a small drink of his sparkling water. 
"Uncle Shane!" Jas ran up, still giggling, "I slayed the mightiest dragon in the land and your kingdom is safe!" He glanced over at Amelia, who gave her best 'dead' face. 
"Why, thank you, my fearless princess," he stood, picking her up and hugging her to him, "how can I ever repay you for saving me?"
She pretended to think, her mischievous smile not well hidden at all, "I will accept your thanks in the form of ice cream."
Shane laughed, kissing the girl's temple before setting her back down. He gave a small wave to Marnie who was heading up the southern path, "I think I can manage that. But when you don't have to go get ready for bed."
She pouted, pushing her lower lip out in protest, "can't I just stay here tonight?"
"Not on a school night, kiddo," he ruffled her hair as Marnie and Amelia approached the porch. Shane crouched and she threw her arms around him in the biggest hug her small frame could muster. With one last kiss to the top of her head, he smiled down at her, "farmer Amelia and I will take you for ice cream on Saturday morning. How does that sound?"
The pout turned into a massive grin as she gave him one more quick hug goodbye before running to hug Amelia, who gave a small bow, "Goodnight, princess."
Once everyone was settled and Marnie and Jas had made their way south, Amelia dusted herself off before inviting herself to sit on her husband's lap, peppering his face with small kisses. She often did this if she saw that he was thinking way too hard about something. 
He chuckled and scrunched his nose up before halting her with a crooked kiss to her lips, her smile never faltering. 
"She had a lot of fun today," Amelia smiled, absently toying with the hair on the back of his neck, "I mean hell, I think being a dragon might be my new favorite hobby."
Shane laughed, nipping along her jawline playfully, "well fine, I'll have to be a dragon too, or else this gets weird fast," he pulled back to look over her face for a long moment, "she loves you a lot, you know. She hasn't taken quite so well to anyone other than me and Marnie since… well, you know."
Amelia smiled and rested her forehead against his, her voice soft, "I love her, Shane. She's a great, brilliant kid. You're her hero though."
Shane laughed, the sound not quite humorous, "after all that shit I put her and Marnie through? I doubt I'm her hero."
She pursed her lips and pulled back to look at him with a stern look, "first of all, dear husband, she told me so," she punctuated the thought with a chaste kiss, "and second, you have gotten so much better and we both know it. You were never even bad, to begin with. You needed a knight- er, dragon," he laughed, bringing her smile back, "to save you. You haven't slipped up at all since you quit, you're seeking the help you need," she playfully flipped her hair, "you married me, and you help run a whole damn farm where we make good money. You are more than worth calling a hero."
He just smiled and pressed his lips to hers once more, groaning in protest as she pulled away and stood, that devilish teasing smirk playing at her lips. 
"I'm going to make us a pizza. Relax for a bit and I'll be out with some snacks."
He shook his head and laughed, leaning his head back when she went inside. 
He'd always had self-doubt issues, and that wouldn't change for a long time and he'd accepted that much. But lately, a thought kept creeping into his head after moments like before. 
He wanted to adopt Jas officially. 
He wanted to be her dad, but that was just it: he had no idea if he would be even remotely good enough as a father. The entire thought process sent him into a spiral of being a bad father and trying to find if Amelia ever got pregnant, would she want that with him?
He started to consider whether he'd be an okay dad more and more recently since Jas had been coming over to hang out and play. She looked up to Amelia for sure and loved her to pieces. If what Amelia said was true, and she thought of him as her hero, it would only solidify that decision. He had no doubt in his mind that Amelia would make an incredible mother, that spark of playfulness she'd always possessed definitely making her good with the kids in town. He spent a decent amount of time imagining his overworked wife very pregnant. 
After a long moment, he stood, tossing his empty seltzer can into the recycling bin. He opened the door and watched for a moment as Amelia was spreading the toppings over the pizza. It was a long moment before she saw him, her face lighting up immediately.
"Well hey, hot stuff," she teased, steadying the pan on a sheet to put in the oven, leaning on the counter on her elbows as she smiled his way. 
"Talking to yourself again, I see," he chuckled, walking to the opposite side of the counter,  taking a breath, "can we talk about something?"
"Uh oh, did I do something wrong?" She searched his face, her frown more of a pout.
Yoba, she was adorable.
He shook his head, brows knit together as he tried to find the courage to continue. It was easily found as she leaned forward and took his hands in hers. 
"I've been thinking recently…" he took a breath, looking at their hands, "about you and me officially adopting Jas."
Amelia gasped, her grin finding its place again over her features as she squeezed his hands, "Shane, that's a great idea. I have no doubt it'd mean the world to her."
A weight seemed to lift off of his shoulders at her approval, though he still frowned as she walked around the counter to wrap her arms around his neck. She scanned his face before giving his hair a little tug from the back of his head. 
"Ow! A, what the f-"
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Stop talking yourself out of it," she moved so her hands held his face, keeping his vision trained on her, "I say this with absolute certainty: you will make a spectacular father. You already do so well with Jas and she'd be thrilled to move in with us and be able to call you her dad."
Shane's features softened as he broke free, turning to press a kiss to her palm. 
"You'd be her adoptive mom too, you know. You are my wife."
Amelia laughed, moving her hands down his neck and over his chest before she fell into a long pause, "we've never talked about if we want kids someday."
Shane frowned, scanning over her face, "for as long as I can remember, I've only ever thought of myself as a failure and a drunk," he rested his head against hers to focus her attention, "but I'm not a drunk anymore. And if I am a failure, I'm just working to do better. Maybe I won't be world's best dad, but I think I'll be proud of our kid every second for simply living their lives," he planted a soft kiss to her lips, pulling back to say, "I'd like to adopt Jas as soon as possible and then we can start the first phase of making our own."
She laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows, nodding slowly, "that's a perfect way to look at it, Shane," she started, brushing her lips over his own, "I like this new, optimistic Shane," she pressed her lips to his once more, the shock and excitement of being parents taking over. She melted into his kiss, his hands finding their way to her waist. His hands were warmer than usual through her shirt. After a moment he pulled her closer against him, his hand moving to the small of her back as he hummed, deepening the kiss. After a long moment, she pulled back, pulling his lower lip with her between her teeth as she did so. A groan of protest escaped his lips as he met her eyes with a pout. 
With a small smile and brush of her nose against his, she teased, "I thought you said after we adopt Jas."
He laughed and slid his hand down to give her ass a playful squeeze, "doesn't mean we can't practice."
42 notes · View notes
saisai34 · 7 months
Text
Snow White Prince
"What's your name? Where am I?" Katsuki asked, his voice raspier than usual. The boy looked up and gave him a shy smile,
"My name is Izuku and you're in the Winter Kingdom. I found you while I was scouting after a blizzard a few days ago. A small battle squad of orcs and wargards were slain around you and you were barely alive." Izuku said as he inspected the blond, he took his temperature and checked his pupils. Katsuki let him, quietly mulling over the information. He remembered slaying every orc and wolf that followed him, he had taken a few hits and knew that his leg had suffered a bite from the biggest wolf, almost tearing the limb off, and his side took a deep slash.
"How do you know who I am?" Katsuki asked as he gripped Izuku's chin with two fingers, drawing the boy to him. Fucking hell, he smelled divine. It made the fire inside Katsuki blaze even more, he let his instincts go wild and began to nuzzle and nip with his teeth those chubby cheeks.
"Be-because of your cape! Please, lemme go, your-ahh! your wounds!"
"I can handle it, Deku. Where's my group? A shitty hair dragon, raccoon eyes girl, ears girl, an electric rat, and soy sauce face?"
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
bellecourageuse · 1 year
Text
@golden-dxrkness
[ from here ]
@bellecourageuse: “I am not afraid of you.“ (EF!Belle because she just has to nip all her master's attempts at being intimidating in the bud, she just has to 😁)
Rumple frowns, his intimidation attempt having not gone over so well. He straightens his back returning to his usual sneer, " Well there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, dearie, and someday it might get you in trouble. Like working for a monster in his lair." He cackles.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Belle raised an eyebrow at her master's words as if saying 'you? intimidating? really?' and matched his sneer beat for beat with a smirk of her own as she teased:
"Is it the same monster who spared a man's life because he only needed magic to cure his ailing pregnant wife? Is it the same monster who presented his maid with the biggest library she has ever seen because he knows she loves books?.. Is it the same monster that ended an Ogre War and led all the children that had been forced to fight in it home?"
There was a slight pause before her last question, her voice and eyes softening. That legend was one of the reasons she was so sure he would come and save their kingdom from ogres — while her father didn't stoop as low as forcing children to fight against those beasts, they were still in great danger because of the ogres' attacks on villages. Her faith in its veracity has faltered when she met the Dark One himself, with all his 'malevolent imp' act and dungeons and quips about skinning children for their pelts, but with time, as she got to know him better and even caught a glimpse or two of the man hidden behind the beast, her faith wasn't just restored but reinforced – no matter how intimidating he tried to be, Rumplestiltskin was a good man at heart.
Belle made another pause, to let her words sink in, then smiled again – mischievous but not in the same teasing way she usually parried his quips with and very, very soft – and leaned in closer to her master herself, so she could practically whisper:
"Is it the same monster you're referring to?"
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
sunnyville36 · 3 years
Text
Mamihlapinatapai {part 5}
I am so excited to share the last part of this story with you.  It means so much to me to be able to share my work and have people enjoy it, so thank you to everyone who has read this little fic.  Huge shout out to the extremely talented @fizzydrink698 for being an inspiration to my writing and an all-around sweet and supportive human.  And the biggest thank you of all to my beta reader, @harry-on-broadway, for being the most encouraging and wonderful friend, without whom I never would have had the confidence to write this, let alone put it out into the world. 💜
Hope you enjoy the finale of Mamihlapinatapai.
Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4}
Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader
Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn
Warnings: smut, emotionally abusive parents, usage of degrading names
Rating: Mature
Word count: 6k
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Soft As Petals  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day
It was late into the evening, maybe even so late it was actually early, and you were standing outside the prince’s door, frantically knocking on it.
“Y/n, what’s happened?!  Is everything alright?”
You walked straight into the room, not even bothering to wait for Chan to invite you in.
“It’s my mother.  I can’t find her anywhere.  I assumed she went with a separate wagon party the way she came when we left Lajor, but everyone in the servants’ quarters says they haven’t seen her in hours and I’ve looked everywhere I can think of and - “
“Shh, shh, Y/n calm down, it’s alright,” Chan said, taking your hands in his.  You were full on hyperventilating at this point, your body starting to physically shake with worry.
“I-I just… these past few weeks I almost lost you and then we almost went to war and I can’t handle not knowing where she is.  I just can’t imagine what I’d do if she - ” your voice caught in your throat, unable to bring yourself to say your worst fear.
“I know, I know, but it’s going to be alright,” Chan soothed.  “I’m sure she’s fine and we’ll find her, but you are in no state now to continue looking for her.  Why don’t I ask a few of the guards to keep searching the palace grounds, and I’ll send a rider to Lajor to make sure she would have made it back with us?”
You looked up at him.  “You would do that?”
“Of course, Y/n, this is your mother we’re talking about.  We’ll do everything we need to until you know she’s safe,” he said, guiding you gently with him towards the door, knowing you wouldn’t want to let go of his hand based on the vice-like grip you currently had on it.  He leaned his head out into the hallway, calling for one of the guards stationed at the end and relaying what he wanted done to continue the search for your mother.  All the while you were watching him with an expression of awe and gratitude.  It still surprised you, how he seemed to know exactly what you needed, and even more so that he was willing to do whatever it took to do it for you.  He walked you back into the room, taking the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Thank you,” you breathed out, still catching your breath from your moment of distress.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he said gently, leaning down, his lips ever so slightly grazing the crown of your head.
You felt a shiver run through you.
“Your Highness,” you lifted your head to say something, hoping to avoid talking about what he had just done, but were stopped in your tracks by the look on his face.
“I was actually hoping to see you tonight.  I need to tell you something, Y/n.  And you might not like what I have to say, but I can’t keep denying it for the rest of my life.  These last few weeks have shown me that I can’t take anything for granted, so I intend to stop right now.”  He paused and stood up, giving you room to stop him if you wanted, but when you remained silent he took that as permission to keep going.
“I’m in love with you.  I think I always have been.  I’m in love with the way you hum that same silly tune to yourself when you’re doing chores.  How you can read a map of any terrain, how you’re not afraid to correct me when I make a mistake while drilling our sword fighting techniques.  I’m in love with the smile you get on your face when you ride through the woods and the way your hair looks when the light shines on it through the trees.”
You were aware your mouth was slightly open, your eyes staring at Chan like a dumbstruck deer, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the words he was saying.  You’d always known you still had feelings for him, and could only dream he reciprocated those same feelings.  But hearing him say all the little things you didn’t even notice about yourself, hearing him say he loved you for those things, your mind was at a loss for what to do.
“I love how you care for our people, how you always have their best interests at heart.  How you would be willing to never speak about these feelings I know we both share so as to not jeopardize your ability to serve me, to serve them.  But most of all I love that you see me.  Not the statesman or the fighter or the ruler, just me.”
You made up your mind then.  To hell with the king’s threats, with the questions your mother had asked you about responsibilities and sacrifices.  You had been making the greatest sacrifice of all for the last sixteen years, but no more.
You launched yourself at him, his arms wrapping around you immediately and your lips meeting his.
It was somehow exactly like that night five years ago and nothing like it at all.  You’d both grown in experience since then, having had other partners over the years.  Your lips moved smoother against one another’s, and it was more passionate than it was gentle.  But you felt that same feeling of euphoria glowing inside you, knowing that you were here with him and he was here with you and you were both finally admitting to what you’d always felt but never dared to acknowledge.  You felt yourself sinking into him, willing to let the tide of his love carry you away if it meant you could stay in this moment forever.  Your lips parted from his, Chan titling your head up to look at him.
“I need to hear you say it.  I need to know that you love me, too.”
You took his face in your hands, willing your voice to convey how sincere you were.
“I love you Chris.  I love the way your hair is always ruffled in the morning and that you sing to yourself when you think no one can hear.  I love how you take three cubes of sugar with your tea instead of two.  I love your determination to better yourself and your dedication to better your people.  I love that you have always treated me as an equal.  I love your dimples and your eyes and the way you make me feel safe when my hand is in yours.”  You brought your thumb up to wipe away a single tear that was sliding down his cheek, his eyes shining as he listened to your words.  “It has always been you, Chris.  It will always be you.”
He smiled then, that same blinding smile that had bound you to him from the day you met.  He kissed you again, then began moving his lips down the side of your neck, your head tilting back to allow him more skin.  His hand reached back and in a few quick motions the laces of your bodice were loose enough for your dress to fall off your shoulders.  He kissed downwards over your chest, and your breath hitched as the dress moved lower and lower, eventually dropping to the floor, leaving you almost bare for him.
Your hands came up to thread through his hair as you mocked, “You are entirely too clothed for my liking, Your Highness.”
At that, Chan whipped his shirt over his head, exposing his soft skin and toned abs, then pulled you to him, tone light but face serious. “I never want to have to hear you call me that ever again.”
“Chan,” you laughed, lightly smacking his chest, “what we’re doing right now is staying confined to this room; I’ll still have to call you that in front of everyone else.”
“Fine,” he all but growled, “I will settle for never hearing it in this room.  For now.”  His lips returned to pressing featherlight kisses to your jaw and found your sweet spot below your ear.  A sigh escaped your lips as Chan lifted you up and placed you under him on the bed, your hands roaming over his shoulders and back as he shed the rest of his clothes and removed the final layer separating you from him.  You could feel his hardness against your dripping core and you looked down, holding in a moan when you saw how big he was.
“Ah ah ah,” the prince purred, “I don’t want you to hold anything back tonight.  I have waited so long to have you like this, and I want to hear every sound that falls from your lips.  I want to know how good I make you feel, Y/n.”
Even if you’d wanted to, you couldn't hold back the sinful sound that left you as he brought his mouth to suckle and nip at your breast, his hand reaching down to rub the pads of his first two fingers against your heat.  Slowly, he increased the pace and the pressure as he kissed down your body, bringing his head between your thighs.  You moaned when you felt his tongue lick a long, languid stripe up your core, then brought your hands to tangle in his hair as he stroked small circles against your sensitive bud.  Desperate for him, you pulled his head back up to meet yours, back arching as you whimpered, “Please Chris.”
He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, the feeling of him against your walls far better than you’d ever imagined.  Being this close to him, feeling his cock reach places inside you you hadn’t known could feel this good, the intimacy was almost overwhelming, so you clung to him, reveling in the feeling of being with the man you loved.
“How did I get so lucky?” Chan was whispering, praises falling from his lips.  “Fuck Y/n, you’re so beautiful, an angel, my perfect girl.  Taking me so well, like you were made for me.”
“I was,” you breathed out, “all of me is yours Chris, only yours.”
His thrusts increased then, both of you teetering on the edge of your highs.  You captured his lips in another burning kiss, sealing your love as the ecstasy coursed through you both.  You laid there for a few moments, relishing the weight of his body on yours and the quiet sound of his heartbeat.  Then Chan rose and fetched a cloth to clean you both, your body already starting to succumb to the pleasant exhaustion.
When he returned to the bed you heard his voice whisper one last I love you before you drifted off in his arms.
Runaway  |  Kingdom of Miroh, 28 years ago
The girl had been running for two days.
She’d prepared her knights and her attendant, told them the story she’d fabricated for them to repeat, and paid them handsomely for the trouble she was surely causing them.  Her parents would be frantic, but eventually they would mourn her and move on.  The kingdom would survive without her; in fact, it had to, because she knew nothing would ever make her return, force her to take on a responsibility she never asked for nor wanted.
Only five more miles to the border, she thought.  Then I can start over, be whoever I want to be.
By the time she reached the marker for Gu, she could barely stay upright, having taken as little rations with her as she dared.  She wandered across, hoping some small border town would be close by where she could eat, maybe get some rest.  After another few miles some buildings started to pop up, small cottages and what looked like a market and an inn.  The girl squinted at the prices on the inn’s sign, trying to remember the conversion rate of the currency she’d brought with her.
“Hey!  I saw you come in to town; you look a little lost.  Can I help you find anything?”
The girl realized the voice was talking to her, and turned to see a boy about her age, maybe seventeen, tall with shaggy brown hair, looking at her curiously.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the boy said.  “It’s just… you seem to be having a little trouble reading the sign and I-I’m uhh... pretty good with numbers; I could help you, if you’d like?”
“Oh umm… yes… p-please… thank you.”
The boy walked closer, the girl showing him the money she had so he could count out the equivalent of the price.  “So, is your family visiting from Miroh?”
The girl balked at his perceptiveness.  Despite all her planning, she hadn’t thought about what she would tell anyone when they asked for her story.  She tried to come up with something quickly, stumbling over her words.  “Umm no, m-my parents are… they’re uhh… they died.”
“Oh, I-I’m sorry to hear that,” the boy said, looking at her sympathetically, and the girl felt like he really meant it.
“Well, umm, here’s what you’ll need for a night’s stay here,” he continued, handing her back the money.  “If you want I can show you a good place to eat that’s close by; you look like you could use a hearty meal.”
Despite knowing him for all of two minutes, the boy seemed trustworthy.  And he was right, she could definitely use some nourishment.
“That sounds nice,” she answered.
“Great!” the boy said, stepping down from the inn’s doorstep and walking towards the village center, the girl following.  “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.  What’s your name?”
“My name’s Julietta.”
Revelations  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day
You awoke, startling for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings until you remembered what had happened the previous night.  Smiling to yourself, you turned in the sheets, expecting to see Chan laying beside you, but you were met with emptiness on his side of the bed.  You frowned, scooting over and feeling the spot still warm from his body.
He must have only just left, you thought.
You glanced over and noticed a small note sitting on his bedside table, letters written in his artful penmanship.  You picked it up, eyes running over the words.
Good morning my love.  How I wished to have you wake up in my arms, but I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.  I’ve gone to speak with my father about something, and when I return, the whole kingdom will be able to hear my name spoken by your beautiful voice. 
A wave of dread washed over your entire body, threatening to pin you to the spot where you sat.
Chan knew his father could be cold, knew he was a callous man who cared for little more than his own self-interest and what he deemed acceptable.  But you knew he’d always believed maybe he could change the king, could open his heart to the same degree Chan and his mother had shared.  You, however, never saw the man through such rose-colored glasses, having been the recipient of his threats and intimidation too many times to believe he could be redeemed.  And your beloved prince was about to find out the true depths of his father’s loathing towards the relationship you shared.
You sprung into action, body moving without thinking as you dressed in last night’s clothes and ran from his chambers, heading to the throne room.  Maybe you could reach him in time, spare him the pain of hearing his father’s rejection.  You’d have to convince him you didn’t want to bring your relationship public, and he’d be hurt, devastated, but it would be nothing compared to the anguish of what he was about to bring on himself.  Or the punishment he was about to unknowingly inflict on you.
Chan was nowhere to be seen in any of the hallways leading to the throne room.  Your feet moved faster, desperately trying to prevent what was about to happen.  But when you burst through the thick oak doors, you saw Chan kneeling at his father’s feet.  Both men looked up to face you, Chan’s expression one of blissful optimism, his father’s one of knowing anticipation.
You were too late.
“Hello, Y/n,” the king said darkly, mouth morphing into a sneer.  “You already know what he’s asked me, don’t you?”
“Your Majesty… please...”
You shuddered at the sound of your own voice, tone betraying your agony, your fear.
“You never told him, did you?” he questioned, the trace of pity in his voice making you all the more uneasy.
“How could I?” you sighed.
The king nodded contentedly, then motioned for the guards on either side of you.  You felt their hands capture your arms, body going all but slack in their hold.  You couldn’t find the strength to fight anymore.
Chan had stood up and was now looking frantically between you and his father.  “What is the meaning of this?!” he asked, tone laced with bewilderment and shock.
“I’m sorry Chris,” you murmured, heart breaking at the look on his face.
“Christopher,” King Bang said, standing and approaching his son, “do not fear.  I will take care of this disobedient whore and then you will be free of her influence.  I should have never let her remain for as long as I did, look what it has done to you, my ingenuous boy.”
You felt it, the moment Chan realized what his father was implying.  His whole body shifted, backing away from Geun as he spoke, voice void of emotion.
“What did you just say?”
For once the king seemed genuinely surprised, eyebrows raising and voice the tiniest bit unsteady as he answered, “I-I mean, certainly that’s the only reason you would ever come to me with this request.  Clearly this woman has convinced you to denounce what I’ve taught you about tradition, about knowing one’s place, through what means I dare not say; but I don’t blame you Chris, this is my fault.”
Chan stopped moving then, having almost reached your side.  His face contorted into an expression of dismay, of grief, as he shouted.
“Are you really so ignorant, so far removed from reality, that you think my actions are a sign of disloyalty?!  Of neglecting my responsibilities?!  Because they are nothing of the sort.  And even if they were, Y/n would not be responsible for convincing me to do anything.  Your outdated principles and misguided sense of your own virtuosity could have done that on their own!  You were blind to a plot happening in your own palace because of your desire to have me bend to your will, but I won’t let you do it anymore.”
He turned, ordering the guards, “Release her, now!”
“You will do no such thing,” the king’s enraged voice rang out.  “Christopher, you will never get my permission for this.”
He turned back to Geun, eyes furious but voice calm.
“I was not asking, father.  I will marry her.  And I am not betraying you, or our kingdom, or our traditions.  And I’m not doing it because she seduced me.  I’m doing this because I love her.  Because she supports me, and cares for me, and knows our people intimately, probably better than I do.  And because, for my whole life, she has been the only person besides Mother who has ever truly loved me for who I am.  So you’ll have to throw me in prison too if you intend to stop me, because I refuse to be here without her.”
“No!” you yelled, straining against your captors, energy rushing back to your body at his words.  “No, Chris please, you have to let me go!  I’m so grateful we had last night; it was the best night of my life and always will be.  I knew the consequences I might face, and getting to tell you how much I love you was worth every one, but you were never supposed to suffer because of me.  I can’t let you do this.”
Your pleas were interrupted by a herald entering the room.
“Your Majesty - “
‘WHAT?!” King Bang whirled on him, outrage blatantly evident on his face.
While the king was distracted, Chan shoved the guards away from you and took your shaking form into his arms, cradling your head against his chest.  “Y/n, you’ve protected me and sacrificed for me my entire life.  Let me be the one who takes care of you now.”
His whispers stopped when you heard the announcement of the herald.
“His Majesty King Peter Soleil of Miroh is here with his wife, Queen Margaery, as well as one of our palace servants, Julietta, Your Majesty.  They are insisting on an audience with you.”
“Your mother?” Chan questioned, meeting your equally confused face with his own.
The king glanced to where the pair of you stood, rolling his eyes obnoxiously.  “Fine, bring them in.  Let these two have their last embrace before I rid us of her presence.”
The herald opened the doors, and there stood your mother, dressed in a beautiful gown you could tell was made for royalty.  She entered, followed closely by the king and queen of Miroh.  You’d seen them a few times over the years at various palace functions.  They seemed like steadfast and benevolent leaders, reflected in their small kingdom’s reputation for nonviolence and generosity.  In fact, the only turmoil you could remember them being involved in was the disappearance of the crown princess, several years before you were even born.  Not much was known about the circumstances of the disappearance, but it was said the king and queen had never given up hope of finding her.
They came to a stop in the middle of the room, the sovereigns flanking your mother.  Looking at the three of them, you couldn’t deny the resemblance of your mother to the elder two people, and a memory stirred in the back of your mind.
“King Peter, Queen Margaery,” King Bang addressed them tersely, “I would say I am pleased to see you but I am at this moment engaged in a personal matter and would like very much to return to it.  If you could please explain why you have one of my palace servants here with you playing dress up, I would appreciate your cooperation.”
“Certainly,” came King Soleil’s placid reply.  “We are here on a personal matter as well, one that Julietta, and indeed Y/n, are involved in.”
Chan’s arms tensed around you, preparing to defend you against any allegation, any harm or threat or danger to your wellbeing.  But, as had happened once before in that very room, no one was prepared for what the Mirohan king said.
“You see, Julietta is our daughter.  Almost thirty years ago, she left our kingdom, because she felt trapped in a life we had not prepared her for.  Her mother and I should have supported her, should have taught her to confide in us, but we were very different people then, and different rulers too.  We would have done what you are attempting to do to your son, forced her to betray her own self to mold to our will.  However, when she left, we saw how wrong we were, and vowed to do better.  Now, Julietta has come back into our lives for the sake of her daughter, our granddaughter, Y/n.”
Every set of eyes in the room was trained on you, your own frozen wide in disbelief at what was happening.  King Bang seemed to be at a loss for words, having fallen back into his seat on the throne.  Your mother left her parents’ side and walked to you, smiling tentatively.  Chan reluctantly released his hold on you as she took your hand and brought you to stand with her away from the others.
“My dear, I know how much of a shock this must be to you, and I am sorry, so very truly sorry for never telling you,” she said quietly.  “But I was ashamed… When I ran away, I did what I thought I needed to do at the time.  Looking back it may have been reckless, irresponsible and selfish even.  But most importantly, it had been my choice.  And I took that from you, the ability to choose what path you wanted in life.  I thought we would be better off away from the life I grew up in, and for a while we were, with your father.  But when he died, I was adrift and had no idea what to do and somehow we ended up back in a palace and at the whim of an arrogant king, but this time without even an inkling of the power I once held.  I thought about returning with you to my parents then, but how could I be sure you wouldn’t resent me for forcing you into the life I had tried so desperately to escape?  I struggled with my choice for years, until eventually I saw that you were happy with your training with the prince, getting to do all the things you used to do with your father that would have been scorned had you been the one in the boy’s position.  But then I saw the signs of your feelings for him, your realization of the insurmountable barriers that would prevent you from being together, the way you resigned yourself to unhappiness.  I knew I could do something about it, but I had to be sure you were ready to accept the responsibilities that would come with having the ability to be with the man you loved.”
You looked up at her, recalling your conversation at the coronation, and she nodded.  “I am sure now.  Which is why I went back to Miroh, back to my parents and the position I despised a lifetime ago.  Because if I can give you the ability to make this one choice, maybe I can make up for all the other mistakes in my life.”
“Mother... “ you started, wanting to tell her you understood her choices, that you didn’t think they were all a mistake, but were quieted by her hand on your cheek.
“I know you are quick to forgive, just like your father, but let me take responsibility for this.”
You looked back at your grandparents.
“They won’t force you to accept,” Julietta said.  “That was my one condition.”
Your head was spinning with the onslaught of new information.  Searching the room, your gaze locked with Chan’s, reading the utter adoration in his eyes that you knew mirrored your own.  You knew his father would never accept your relationship at your current status.  And despite feeling confident you wanted a chance to make an impact as a ruler, you didn’t know everything about what it would mean to take on this responsibility.  But there was one thing you were absolutely certain of.
You turned back to your mother, squeezing her hand.  “Thank you.”
She led you back to the group, your hand linking with Chan’s as you came to stand beside him and your grandparents.
“We are aware of the young people’s affection for each other…” King Soleil began, but King Bang seemed to have recovered himself enough to realize what the other was about to say.
“That girl will NOT marry my son!”
“Geun,” your grandfather warned, “that girl is my granddaughter, a Mirohan princess.  I strongly suggest you watch your tone when you speak about her in front of me, or anywhere for that matter.  Now, it was already quite unreasonable to want to prevent your son from marrying a woman he loves, but it would be wholly irrational of you to deny a match for the prince to the heir apparent to the throne of Miroh, wouldn’t you say?”
You stood up straighter, feeling Chan’s hand tighten around yours.
The king was silent for a while, but finally gave an acquiescent sigh.  “Very well.”
The two of you smiled but kept your composure, bowing to the king and turning to your grandparents.  They pulled you both in for a hug as you thanked them, saying they were eager to get to know their new grandchildren, and your heart skipped a beat at those words.  You didn’t hear anything else after that, your focus entirely mesmerized by Chan who was pulling you towards the door, your pace quickening before breaking into a run as you left the castle, heading for the stables.  You rounded the building first, then felt him reach around your waist as he gathered you in his arms and spun you around, laughing his brilliant laugh and pulling you close to him as he placed you back on the ground by the pond.
“Does this mean I have to call you “Your Highness” now?” he asked, giggling at your stunned face from the use of the term.
You playfully put your hands up to shove him, but he captured them in his own, kissing your knuckles and bringing your palms to rest on his chest.  You could feel his heart beating as you knelt your head to meet his and heard his soft voice ask.
“Y/n, will you marry me?”
You had never been happier to say yes.
Epilogue  |  Kingdom of Gu, 1 year later
You were standing in front of the mirror, your mother behind you pinning your hair into an extravagant twist when a joking voice came from the door.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  You turned to see the smiling face of the queen of Lajor.
“Korenna!” you exclaimed, dancing happily in place, too afraid to move while your mother continued her styling as your friend came to sit next to you.
“You look stunning, Y/n, truly.  Chris is going to lose it when he sees you.”
Chris, your mind echoed lovingly.  You’re marrying Chris today.
“And how come I don’t get a hello from my favorite little princess?” you teased.
“Paige is a bit preoccupied practicing her petal tossing abilities with her Uncle Felix,” her sister responded.  “She definitely has the upper hand in technique, but I’m not sure who looked cuter in the flower crown.”
“Speaking of flower crowns,” your mother said, turning you to face her, “Chris left this for you.”
You looked down at her hands where she held a sealed letter, on top of which rested a single wildflower.
Your mother saw the tears prick in your eyes and started to gather up her things, motioning to Korenna.  “Let’s give Y/n a moment before the ceremony while we - Oh! Your Majesty, my apologies, I didn’t see you there.”
You turned to see King Bang milling awkwardly at the entrance of the room.  Putting the gift from Chan down, you ushered your mother and Korenna out then came to sit in front of his father.
The two of you had avoided each other as much as possible over the last year, which hadn’t exactly been hard since you had moved with your mother to Miroh to catch up on all the instruction you’d missed these past twenty-three years.  You’d seen him at the Four Kingdom Competition and at various dinners and balls, but Chan always made it a point to keep you as far away from him as possible.  You weren’t going to complain about it to your fiance, but you’d almost wished he’d let the two of you talk, tension clearly still lingering between you.  And though this visit was unexpected, considering you were going to be family after today, now seemed just as good a time as any.
“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”
“Actually, Y/n, I-I came here to apologize,” the king said, his voice sounding almost as taken aback as you felt.  “I have spent my whole life avoiding saying that phrase, but I realize now you are one of the few people I feel I really must say it to.”  He took a deep breath before he continued.  “I’m sorry for the death of your father, I’m sorry for my insults and threats over the years, and I’m sorry for trying to keep you and Christopher from being together.  I had no right to try to do that, whether you were noble-born or not.”  He paused, and you could tell it was getting harder for him to keep his voice steady.  “After my wife died… I had this blind rage I felt towards everyone, but especially towards you, and when I finally took the time to analyze it, I realized I had been jealous.  Jealous of your skill and your talent, but mostly jealous of my son’s devotion to you.  This year has shown me that I was wrong to think his love for you would turn him away from me or his responsibilities; in fact, his happiness at being with you has only strengthened our relationship and made him a more present, more thoughtful ruler.  So I came to apologize, and to thank you for bringing the light back to my son’s eyes.”
You were stunned, but grateful, and the king seemed to read that in the expression on your face.  “You don’t need to say anything,” he said, standing up and heading for the door, “I just wanted you to know.”
You stopped him before he could leave, placing a hand on his arm.  “Thank you.”
He nodded and shut the door, leaving you alone.  You turned your attention back to the envelope on the desk and gently opened it, unfolding the paper in one hand and holding the blossom in the other.
Y/n,
Since the beginning, my love for you has grown like the roots of a flower.  Even on this day, we are but tiny buds, only just beginning to sprout.  I look forward to every day we’ll spend in the garden, tending to our love until we reach full bloom.  And just as flowers slowly fade, may we grow old together, enjoying the memories of those sunny days when we used to ride through the meadows we planted.  Know that my love for you will remain long after our petals are reclaimed by the earth, my beautiful wildflower.
Yours forever,
Chris
You held back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, placed the flower in your hair behind your ear with trembling hands, and walked out to meet your mother standing at the entrance to the courtyard.
She took your arm in hers as you made your way to the aisle.  You saw Minho and Felix on the right, both grinning from ear to ear, and Korenna and Paige on the left, the younger’s sparkling dress and tiny braid matching the elder’s.  And in the center you saw Chan, looking to be on the verge of tears, but his blinding smile on full display.  Your mother walked you to him, your gown glinting in the light of the setting sun.  He took your hand in his and held it while the priest recited the hymns and blessed your marriage, pronouncing you husband and wife.
Later, while the celebration was in full swing inside the ballroom, the two of you made your way out to the balcony.  He took you into his arms, both of you swaying to the music floating out on the breeze.
“You look breathtaking tonight,” Chan whispered.
“You told me that earlier, Your Highness,” you responded, wiggling your eyebrows at the term he used to hate, recalling the conversation you’d had the first time you shared a dance on the balcony.
“I know,” he said smiling, catching on to your words.  “I wanted to tell you again.”
You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him before whispering, “We’re married.”
“I know that too,” he responded, the two of you giggling and bringing your foreheads together.  He reached up to tuck your hair that had come loose behind your ear, revealing the flower, and you let the feeling of peace wash over you, knowing you had a lifetime together.
“I love you, Chris.”
“I love you too, Y/n.”
{end}
198 notes · View notes
redrose-arrow · 2 years
Text
Day 27 of Sparkling Joy: Champagne Problems
In which the OG legends face wishful wit, greedy guests, and shattering chandeliers.
Note: couple of things. 1) this abandons whatever timeline there was. Oh well. 2) inspired by @theravenlyn-art ‘s modern AU for no reason other than that I saw the post and my mind went “so listen-”. 3) this is a mess, there’s no background info, it’s all vibes and no plot. Do with it what you will. 4) it’s ehhh,,,, really long.
There was something a little morbid about celebrating coronations, given that they usually take place right after a head state had passed away. And yet here they stand, in Castle Araluen’s biggest ballroom, toasting to the new King. 
The black banners put up in mourning of the now late King Oswald had shortly been exchanged for Duncan’s colours, orange and gold, with a leopard stitched onto them. They are complemented by the rays of the setting sun through the open doors, and there’s the soft blowing of a summer wind that makes the banners dance even more elaborate than the guests on the floor. 
Invitees from all around the Kingdom have gathered together, eating and drinking and dancing and talking and celebrating, celebrating a new beginning, a new era, a new king. 
Amidst them stands a curious trio, two of them clad in plain brown breeches, simple leather boots, but with neat white shirts. One of them has wild black hair and an equally messy beard, the other can be recognised by his bright red hair and the freckles on his face. The silver shining oak leaves that hang around their necks are the only signs that the two men are Rangers. They are accompanied by a woman, tall and elegant and dressed in a classic black dress. The bodice hugs her figure tightly, the skirt flows around her legs gracefully, and her blond hair is kept up by several equally inky feathers.
They stand aside, near the walls. No one pays attention to them. But they pay attention to everyone. 
Pauline is nipping from a glass of champagne. 
“Arald thinks the traitor might be from one of Duncan’s more supportive fiefs. Someone who’s given everything from the start and is yet to see any payback. I think he’s right. We haven’t had any high-level betrayals throughout this war. It’s too good to be true.”
“Did you have any fiefs in mind?” Crowley asks. The Ranger Commandant is also holding a glass of champagne in his hand. The other is nonchalantly hidden away in his pocket. 
The diplomat nods. 
“If I had to guess, my bet would be on Aspienne or Caraway.” 
Halt breaks his scanning of the room and glances sideways at the Courier. 
“David’s fief?”
Pauline doesn’t respond. Instead, she raises her glass in a greeting, as a man nods at her. When he has passed, she answers, but her voice is considerably softer than before. 
“When I was meeting with the other Heads of the Diplomatic Service today, those two were the only ones without a single remark about the new divisions of rights and responsibilities. A topic otherwise reserved for our most eloquent speeches and most convincing arguments.” 
Halt raises an eyebrow. Arms crossed, leaning against one of the large pillars, he looks barely convinced. 
“That’s hardly concrete proof of anything.”
Pauline smiles at him. 
“Tell me, Halt, are the diplomats in Hibernia so easygoing and the Kings so aligned that they never argue over a division of rights and responsibilities?” 
Halt has no idea how or why Pauline would assume that he has any knowledge of or experience with the behaviour of Hibernian diplomats, let alone Kings, but in any case, she has made her point. 
“Assuming you’re right…” His voice trails off as he catches her eye. 
“Alright, I believe you,” he defends himself, “but we cannot rule out anyone unless we’re one hundred percent certain.”  
Pauline moves her head in agreement. 
“Making it all the more important that safety measures are in place. Do you have eyes on Duncan?” she inquires. 
Halt nudges his head to their right. The movement is barely visible, but tells Crowley all he needs to know. He scans the room, seemingly indifferent, before looking back at his companions. 
“Good. Rosalind’s keeping him occupied near the musicians, like I asked her to.”
Pauline raises an elegant eyebrow. 
“That’s all the way on the other side of the room. What if you don’t catch the traitor on time and he ends up reaching Duncan before you reach him?”
Crowley winks at her. 
“I am sure that if such an unimaginable event were to occur, Berrigan will be more than capable to ensure protection until Halt or I can offer assistance.”
Indeed - now that Halt knows that the jolly Ranger was hidden among the ranks of the musicians, he has no trouble recognising the guitarra-playing archer. Still, even though his gaze is directed towards the other side of the room, from the corner of his eyes he notices that this time, Pauline’s smile is directed towards the other Ranger. 
“It seems you’ve thought of everything.”
Crowley bows elegantly, from the waist down. When he stands up straight again, he says: “Everything I could think of, anyways.”
Halt’s sudden cough is short, but enough for Crowley to break eye contact with the diplomat and take another sip of his champagne. He looks sideways at his friend, offering him his glass, trying to convince him to share in the delight over good champagne. He doesn’t show it, but there’s the hint of a laugh lingering in the corners of his mouth. 
Pauline eyes the two Rangers with interest. The Ranger Commandant is known for his unfaltering joy, though he seems happiest when he’s teasing his friend. The Hibernian, on the other hand, remains grim and stern regardless of the circumstances. And yet… 
But they have business to attend to. 
“So all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye on things, identify the traitor, and arrest them before they manage to kill the King?” Pauline queries. 
Crowley nods in agreement. 
“It’s awfully simple, really. I have men stationed in every corner and whatever noble we could trust is ready to assist or alert us. We don’t even really have to do something, just make sure we recognise suspicious behaviour.”
It’s silent for a few minutes. Pauline sips of her champagne. Halt and Crowley continue scanning the room. 
It is the Courier who breaks the silence. 
“Well then. Who out of the two of you is going to invite me for a dance?” 
Before she has finished her sentence, Crowley turns his head towards her. A devious grin starts spreading over his face and he opens his mouth to say something, but Halt cuts him off.
“I s’pose the mighty Ranger Commandant needs to stay on the side to keep an eye on things,” he says, glaring dangerously at his friend. 
Crowley’s grin widens. In the short time that they’d known each other, he’d been glared at by Halt often. The intended effect was minimal. 
“I mean, as the ‘Ranger Commandant’, I could also delegate my tasks to my inferiors, of course…” he muses. 
But his friend wouldn’t have it. Halt takes Pauline’s glass and pushes it in Crowley’s empty hand. Ignoring the grin, and the wink, and the not very subtle mouthing of the words “good luck” that his friend is sending his way, Halt offers Pauline his hand and leads her onto the dance floor. 
They don’t talk, as they dance. Instead, they move in complete silence, surprisingly smooth and in sync. It’s been a while since Halt’s been on a dancefloor, and even longer since it was voluntarily. But he remembers the voice of his younger sister as she guided him through the dance. He remembers it now, and manages to lead Pauline through the room without looking like a completely uneducated buffoon. 
As they move around, it is inevitable that they end up next to Arald and Sandra. The baron beams brightly at them. 
“Halt! Pauline! I see even you two could not resist joining us on the floor!”
“All business, my lord,” Pauline smiles. 
Halt is inclined to agree. 
“The best view is from the middle of the dance floor.”
“Do take care of my proxy, Halt,” Arald warns him joyfully. 
The addressee nods his head. 
“Don’t think she needs me to, sir.”
Pauline’s smile grows a little wider. 
“She doesn’t.”
The diplomat initiates a turn, and a swirl, and soon they’re out of earshot of the baron and his wife. They don’t hear Arald’s final excited exclamation. 
“See, I told you, Sandra!”
“I know you did, love.” 
The Ranger and the Courier keep dancing, now discreetly making their way to the other, yet undiscovered area of the 
Pauline makes eye contact, before looking at something behind the Ranger’s left shoulder. Halt watches her every move, sees her scanning the area behind him, until finally, she focuses on something. They make eye contact again. 
“How’s the baby doing?” Pauline asks. She initiates another turn, until they’ve switched positions. This time, it’s Halt that’s looking over his partner’s shoulder, into the same direction as she was just a few moments prior. 
“He’s settling in alright. Made… one friend.”
They make eye contact again and maintain it throughout the rest of the dance. Pauline follows his lead as the Hibernian brings them into the perfect position. The second Halt breaks eye contact, she ducks. A knife is thrown over her shoulder. When she stands back up again, one of the scabbards at Halt’s side is empty. 
The sound of someone yelping in pain, then falling down and eliciting other yells of annoyance, reaches the redhead on the other side of the ballroom. 
Crowley rolls his eyes. 
“I hate it when he does that,” he mutters. He downs the remaining champagne and leaves the glasses on the table nearest to him. When he pulls back his hand, there’s a knife in it. 
Time to get to work, he decides. 
Meanwhile, Halt’s second knife has also left his place at Halt’s side. The second man, however, dodges the saxe. Instead of running away, however, he decides to turn around and face the unknown Ranger. The man throws a haymaker that Halt ducks to avoid but doesn’t parry, then another that the Ranger swings under again - and responds to with an uppercut. The sound of his upper and lower rows of teeth making unplanned contact sickens the man. Still, he keeps his feet.
Until his legs are kicked out from beneath him. 
Halt raises an eyebrow at the courier. 
“I thought the Diplomatic Service preferred words over violence?”
Pauline shrugs.
“Usually, yes. But I figured you might need some help in the latter department.”
Halt nods at her, a modest token of his appreciation. A movement in the corner of his eye catches attention and he turns in time to see the man crawl back up again. 
“Why are diplomats always so persistent?”
He waits until the man is standing on both of his feet again. He even lets him poke him in the chest. Pauline watches as Halt grabs that finger and bends it back to his chin, punching the man in the stomach at the same time. She decides to offer some assistance, again, and launches another kick that sends the man flying to the ground. 
Some people try to get themselves involved, but Arald doesn’t let them. There’s no way for the Ranger to know who means well and who means harm. Better to keep everyone out of it. Next to him, Sandra is scolding several young knights who are trying to make a name for themselves by presumably attempting to lend a helping hand. Rodney, on the other side of the circle, chooses a more pragmatic approach, even if it leads to him shaking his own hand in pain. 
Crowley reaches the circle in time to see Pauline hand out the second blow. He whistles and catches Arald’s gaze. 
“Remind me not to get on her bad side.”
The baron grins at him as he lets him pass and allows him to take his place next to the bearded Ranger, who is trying to regain some feeling in his right hand.  
“You don’t have to hurt someone every time you want my attention, Halt.”
The Hibernian doesn’t even justify him with a look of recognition. 
“Shut up.”
Crowley shrugs. 
“Not the reunion I was hoping for.”
He bows down to check on the man Halt just punched down. But the diplomat is not as knocked down as it seemed - now, his two hands grasp Crowley’s face and he brings his knee up. The movement is never finished. Halt whirls another solid punch. When his fist comes in contact with his face, the man falls to the ground, wailing in pain. As soon as his head hits the floor, the man falls silent. 
Halt curses under his breath as he continues massaging his hand.  
“Why do I keep having to save your nose?”
Crowley doesn’t respond. Instead, he looks around them, scanning the floor of the circle that their friends kept clear. 
“Where’s the guy you used as a knife-throwing target?”
There’s a trace of blood on the ground, but it’s not enough to indicate the accidental ripping of an artery. 
It’s a change in the air, rather than a sound, that alerts the redhead. He looks up, in time to receive the blow right on his jaw. Instinctively, his hand grabs the attacker’s wrist. 
“You’re the last scumbag I have to clean up,” he grins. 
But he is wrong. 
Of all people, it is Pauline who realises their mistake first. 
“Crowley!” 
The Commandant of the Ranger Corps looks up, narrowly avoiding another, lousier punch to the head.
“Caraway!” 
The redhead curses wholeheartedly. 
“Two traitorous fiefs for the price of one,” he mutters. 
He glances sideways at Halt. 
“You good?”
His friend grimaces. 
“Never better.”
That’s good enough for Crowley. He lets go of the man’s wrist and jumps out of the way, right as Halt dives forward against the other man again. Standing on his toes, his eyes scan the room. 
There, a man clad in the recognisable colours of Caraway fief, is making his way towards… towards the king. 
Duncan is, like all of those present, fully focused on the fight that is going on in the middle of the room. There’s no way that he will recognise the threat on time. Just like there’s no way that Crowley can make it there in time. 
His brain is working hard, trying desperately to come up with a plan. His eyes follow the main source of light in the room, up to the ceiling. 
It’s a calculated risk. Either, Crowley saves the life of his friend and king. Or he causes the injuries of an innocent, high-ranking noble. It’s not an easy choice to make, but one he has to make, right here, right now. 
“I never liked that chandelier anyways,” he mutters. His hand reaches down to his pocket again. When it comes back, it reveals a round disk. It’s even smaller than the palm of his hand and seemingly innocent, but Crowley knows it’ll cut through the thick ropes holding the chandelier in place without effort. 
The Commandant moves his arm back, then forward again. The disk is released from his hand and starts flying through the air. Within seconds, the large chandelier comes crashing down, crushing the man Pauline had targeted beneath him. 
And just like that, the fight is over. The threat is gone. Duncan’s coronation has been successfully protected. 
A few metres to his left, Berrigan is urging the musicians to start another song. A few metres to his right, Halt and David are carrying three unconscious men off the floor. 
Crowley grabs a new glass of champagne from a passing servant, takes a sip, then raises it high in the air. He grins at Duncan, who, sword drawn and on highest alert, still seems to be processing what just happened. 
“To the King!”
36 notes · View notes
chrissshub · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
@dejwrites selfship prompt
a/n: so for mine, I decided to take a page out of Shakespeare and go fantasy, kingdom au. listen…I know I went overboard but the way i still might need a part two.
Tumblr media
“This kingdom is just beautiful, I mean look at the architecture of the castle alone!” Rindou marveled as his fingers ran along the exterior stone wall. It was a warm summer’s eve, crisp air nipping at the skin of the night occupants. The pair known as the Haitani Brothers were on a conquest on behalf of their king's request.
Yet one of them would have met the star of fate itself as the vivid evening persisted.
“Watch yourself, my dear brother. Do not lose sight of our purpose here on His majesty’s land. We are invited to his daughter’s engagement ceremony, that and that alone,” Ran hissed, tugging at the loose strands of Rindou’s hair.
“I won’t! Why did King Sano even send us, he’s the one who received the damned scroll,” he griped, following behind Ran’s quickened pace. “I don’t know but yet…we’re here on foreign land, dressed in our best silks, satins, and jewels. Let us do well to keep the behavior appropriate, alright?” Ran pressed, smoothing away any wary wrinkles upon his azure patterned vest.
Rindou nodded faithfully, ensuring the best mannerisms from his brother. With each step they took, the flutes and shrills of glee echoed from beyond the door, the two men entering the fathering at last.
“By God, it’s a lively gathering, isn’t Rin?” Ran queried, resting his arm along Rindou’s shoulder. All Rindou could do was nod, the flickering lamps from above glimmering against his lilac hues. He studied his new surroundings, finding himself being drawn into the crowd of giddy drunks and animated bodies.
That is until a certain soul captured his undying attention.
“Ran…who is that?” Rindou quizzed, maintaining his sights on the woman. Ran snapped his fingers, “That the good ol’ Princess Chris of Laurington. I doubt you honestly forget, not with how you used to dote over her like some dog in heat.”
“Gah, and why on God’s earth would you say such a thing? She’s changed so much, is all. I doubt she’d even notice me,” Rindou sighed, folding his arms along his burly chest. Ran eased his lips to Rindou’s ear, the mischievous thoughts controlling the man.
“Tell me if you got her, why else would we have traveled for three days and nights if not to claim Chris’ heart for you again, my dear Rin.”
With that, Ran gave his brother one good push, thrusting Rindou into the crowd. He crashed into a familiar figure, bracing her hips for support.
She wore a cherry-red velvet gown, fitted to her body and shape perfectly. Her hair dropped pleasantly at her shoulders, the ravenous strands catching the reflexes of light.
The woman immediately stumbled into Rindou’s arms, her nails caring into the thickened muscles. The exchange the pair held lasted for what could have been classified as an eternity, Chris standing upright in his hold.
Subconsciously, the two began to sway along with the mandolin, taking easy steps. Thin smiles curved onto their lips as they proceeded with the dance, eventually Chris breaking the silence.
“And what is your name, my good sir?” She inquired, running the tips of her fingers along the embroidered ridges of Rindou’s blouse. He took the woman’s hand into his own, dropping to one knee before her.
“M’lady, I am a knight from the land of Botenavia. I am—uh…may I ask what it is you wish to achieve?” Rindou puzzled unamusingly, watching as the princess crouched onto the ground beside him.
“If this is how you wish to exchange names, I shall do the same. But, please tell me your title with your head held high, not squabbling on the ground as if a mere insect,” she suggested, giving Rindou her biggest grin. He was quick to whip his head to the side, the inescapable flush of heat surfacing about his face.
A measly smile did this to a man of such vigor? Who knew that after squaring off with men of brash and robust physique, a woman would make the fearless knight crumble down to his boots.
“Uh…my name is Lord Rindou Haitani of Botenavia, and who might you be, my liege?” Rindou requested, his own suspicions seeking answers. The woman took hold of Rindou’s other hand, her eyes amazed by such rough and calloused pads.
“You must take up the art of fighting, even surviving a few as well,” she commented, tracing each curve etched into his palm.
Rindou watched as the woman continued her soft touch, examining his hardened palms with foreign curiosity.
“My name is what you seek, yes? Well then, I am the one who is being honored this evening, Princess Chris,” she introduced warmly, Rindou’s eyes darting about the room. At last, the suspicions had come true, but now he was more lost than before, finding her about the people rather than upon the throne.
“Why…then why aren’t you with your parents right now? He pressed, Chris shrugged her shoulder. “I do not wish to be around such foolishness, their intoxicated laughter has just reached its peak. But I have an idea that might just muse you,” she implied, pulling Rindou and herself to their feet.
“Rindou…will you accompany me to my chambers? No acts of lust shall be performed, I just wish to talk is all,” she whispered, bringing her glossed lips to the shell of his ear. Rindou nodded shyly, making haste to follow every step the princess took. The grip the pair held on one another was that of lovers, the strange bond growing within the passing moments.
They were soon met by a wooden door, adorned with jewels and bits of gold. “Should you ever have an intruder, they’ll be rich for years to come off your door alone,” Rindou joked, earning a sarcastic scoff in return.
“Listen, it was a childhood phase. I am well aware of my innocence but the door is too pretty to simply throw away,” She giggled, leading him inside.
To Rindou’s surprise, the princess lived in a quaint room, a large bed with silks laid atop the mattress, a balcony overseeing her town and the citizens within. Yet what caught Rindou’s eye was the easel in the corner, a canvas set out to dry.
“Are you in school to become a painter? An honest living but all too cheap for you, Princess,” he began, pointing towards the masterpiece basking in the moon’s rays. Yet the young woman shook her head in denial, guiding her newest mate towards the exhibit.
“I was schooled for a surplus of occupations. I could paint, become a lawyer, and with a few more years of schooling and lessons, a certified doctor. But alas…my dreams are but a thing in the past,” she trailed off dismissively.
“Whatever do you mean? You are to be wed to one of the strongest men in the land, King South of Rokuhara, correct?” Rindou hinted cautiously. She lifted her head to meet his sights, her brown hues glossed with the burning grief of tears.
“I do not wish to marry that monster. It is all in favor for my father and mother, nothing was even brought to my attention. South had been taken with me since he was a little one, now that he has ascended to the throne, he’ll make that dream a reality. But what concerns is the tale that follows him.”
Rindou’s thin brows came into a knot, his lips pursed with deep concentration. “Oh! You mean the tale of the Widow’s Death?”
Chris shook her head, looking out into the distance as she began to speak. “South has been married six times already. Each wife had passed within a year’s time of their union, but South seems to only gain more power and wealth.”
“You see, if I marry him…I, too shall be dead. I am much too young for such a fate, but it seems that there is nothing I can do. I am nothing more than fate’s doll in this case,” Chris weeped, pinching her bottom lip in hopes to suspend her shuddering sobs. Rindou raised his hand to the woman’s supple brown cheek, gently stripping her skin free of the tears.
“I’m sorry…I don’t know why I even brought you here to discuss such matters but, I feel as though I could trust you, as if I’ve known you for years now.”
Watching the woman fall apart before him, Rindou knew he couldn’t reveal his true feelings. He couldn’t reveal how he as well was taken with her, from the days he would grovel about kingdom to kingdom.
The princess would bring him and his brother refreshments for the few months they vacated her town. It would have years later that the pair met again, at the age of 15 when Rindou had become a knight in training.
He was sent back to Chris’ kingdom to study under her father. The two would sneak away to an excluded cave in the nearby forest, retelling stories of utter nonsense to one another.
Now at the age of twenty-three, he was in love with her more than ever. He wanted to be the one to cart her down the roads, waving at all those who passed them by. He wanted to have her fil his cold home with hums of glory and songs of awe.
Rindou just wanted Chris by his side, not even death could part them.
“Chris, I have a suggestion. It may be crazy but, I hope you do take it,” Rindou beseeched, settling beside her on the bed. “And what could that be, Rin?”
“I’m not the richest man, but far from poor. I have no bits of pure innocence nor empathy left in my heart for others, yet I swear to never betray you. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what. In other words…come back with me and you can live the life you chose. My home, money and heart all belongs to you,” Rindou confessed.
“Are you really suggesting I just up and leave home…to be with a stranger? You must jest with me, M’lord,” Chris chuckled, playfully pushing her hand into Rindou’s chest.
“No, that is why the jesters fill your court with their quips and mindless banners. I bear nothing but care for you, over you. I only wish to keep this beauty of a smile on your face,” he cooed, pulling her digits to his lips for a kiss.
“Sir Rindou,” she whispered softly “That is no way to properly ask for a woman’s hand in unison. Repeat after me, “I, Rindou Haitani of Botenavia.”
“I, Rindou of Botenavia…”
“Take you, Chris of Laurington…”
“Take you, Chris of Laurington…”
“As my loving bride,” she added, closing the distance between the two. Before Rindou could even say the words, he pressed his lips unto hers, eyes coming to a flutttering shut. Her lips latched onto his, drawing the man in closer so that he may fall back into the bundle of blankets beneath them.
Chris’ fingers found purchase into Rindou’s checkered locks. He was first to pull away, peering down at his cheeky bride to be.
“Be my loving bride and I’ll dress you in the finest linens, prettiest jewels and the biggest home I can buy. Just come back with me…please,” he pleaded with Chris.
She placed a final peck onto his lips before peeling back, the heat of her words bringing about an inextinguishable flame in the pits of his stomach.
“Take me away, Rindou Haitani.”
Tumblr media
17 notes · View notes
honey-dewey · 3 years
Text
The Prince’s Dogs
Pairing: Oberyn Martell/Reader
Word Count: 4,171
Warnings: None!
Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell
Upon leaving your small village and getting a job in Dorne working for the two princes of Sunspear, you had no idea how much you’d miss one very small yet very pivotal part of your life. The rain. However, being the dog trainer for Prince Oberyn might beat the rain. Might. 
A/N: Have I watched Game of Thrones? Nope! But I’ve started reading the books and read a bit of book 3 with Oberyn, so that’s what this is based off of. Oops. 
Of all the things you missed about home, the rain was what you missed most. Dorne was a fine kingdom with ample sun and the intoxicating smell of salt in the air. But rain was scarce this far south in Sunspear, and you longed for a day where the skies opened and wept, showering the earth.
But the rain was something you could not have, so you settled for a life many would envy. A position in the Dornish palace, dressed in fine clothes rather than your worn out linens. You dearly missed your old home, with the smell of wet dirt and the muddy ground beneath your bare feet, but when your parents had passed, you needed to leave, finding work and income to keep yourself alive.
And you’d found it. You were a servant for the Martell family, although you rarely saw your masters. Doran was always busy, and his younger brother was typically nowhere to be found when he was needed. You’d never met Elia, but the stories were prominent, even to your people. Anyone south of King’s Landing knew all too well the story of Elia Martell.
The Martells treated their servants well. When you’d arrived, they’d put you to work immediately in the kitchens, scrubbing copper kitchenware until your hands were red. The woman who oversaw your work was impressed. Apparently most ended their days with bloodied fingertips. You’d told her you worked with animals day in and day out where you’d come from, and your hands were well prepared for harsh conditions. However, despite the grind, you wore soft clothes. A linen shirt you’d refused to give up, brown pants, and a deep yellow robe you often never wore. You were built for the cold, and Dorne was hot as an oven. A robe would only serve to boil you alive.
You sighed, scrubbing a large cooking pot and dunking it under the water again. Your face was finally legible in the surface, warped and coppery, but legible nonetheless. You hung it to dry alongside the other pots you’d cleaned, turning back yet again to the pile of dirty dishes. You were elbow deep in soapy water when someone exclaimed, “My Prince! I did not see you there!”
“It’s fine my dear,” a honeyed voice said, thick with a Dornish accent. “I did not mean to scare you.”
Hanging another pot, you finally turned to see your visitor.
Prince Oberyn Martell stood by the fire, the flames dancing in his onyx eyes. He smiled at you, and you felt yourself flush. “And this must be the one who keeps my dogs. I’d recognize those hands anywhere.”
You nodded. Once she’d learned you worked dogs in your past, your overseer assigned you to keep the prince’s dogs when you weren’t busy. He had five, all of whom were slender and fast and well trained thanks to you. All the dogs sat by your feet during meals solely because you fed them scraps of your food, and apparently the prince had taken notice. “Yes, I am. Is there a problem with their training?”
Oberyn chuckled. “Quite the contrary, in fact. The girls are swift as ever, and have no hesitation while hunting. Tell me, how did you train them to run through rivers?”
“Food.” It was a true answer. You’d taken the dogs to a shallow pond and baited them across the water, working your way up until you were baiting them across the deepest river you could find. Compared to training dogs in pelting rain, which you had done before, training the dogs to swim fearlessly had been simple.
“Ah,” Oberyn said with a smile. “Food, of course. I suppose this means you’re also the reason Nyx and Artemis are looking a bit rounder than usual?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Your dogs are all in perfect health,” you said sternly. “And if two of your ladies are looking too well fed, then I should not be confronted, because I had nothing to do with it.” It was a blatant lie, and you both knew it.
Oberyn put his hands up. “I was merely making an observation,” he said lightly. “I’ll be leaving you to your washing up.”
You did as he left you to do, washing each dish until it shone and then heading to the doghouse. It was big as your old house back home, and all five dogs rushed to the door as you opened it.
“Hello girls!” You said eagerly, kneeling down so they could all nip at your ears and fingers. “How are we today?”
The dogs all dispersed after that. It was late and there was a warm fire, so three of the dogs curled up to sleep. Nyx and Athena stayed awake, wrestling for a toy before Athena grew bored and trotted off to sleep with her sisters. So Nyx found the next best thing to play with. You.
You wrestled Nyx for the toy, rolling around on the ground and laughing as she growled at you. You growled right back, shaking the toy and coaxing Nyx to drop it. She did, and you tossed it across the room for her to chase after. Nyx was the leader of the pack, the biggest and the oldest. Her muzzle was streaked with grey, but her black and white coat still shone with youth and her eyes sparkled when she was playing. She would always be a puppy at heart.
She returned the toy to you, and you took it. Nyx snapped her jaws at you in an attempt to take the toy, but you pulled it away quickly. “Absolutely not!” You said firmly. “We don’t snatch.” You made Nyx sit, her eyes trained on her toy the entire time. When you finally threw it again, she caught it and trotted right past you with it, dropping it obediently at the feet of her master.
You stood quickly, nearly tripping over yourself as you did so. You knew you looked a mess. Covered from head to foot in dog fur and saliva, your sleeves were still damp from washing dishes and your feet were bare, as they always were. Your hair, which you’d grown long upon arriving in Dorne, was a mess of tangles. Your morning’s braid was long gone.
But the prince didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he scratched Nyx behind the ears and tossed her toy, sending her joyously chasing after it. “I figured I’d find you here,” he said. “The guards said you liked to put the dogs to bed every night.”
You nodded, relaxing a bit as Oberyn sat on a bench and gestured you to his side. Nyx followed you, sitting practically on your feet as you sat. You absently scratched under her ornate collar, hearing her foot thump the ground as you found the sweat spot to scratch. Oberyn smiled as Nyx squirmed under your hands. “You work the girls well.”
“It was my job back home,” you admitted. “I worked the hunting dogs. They were stockier and slower than yours, but could take down anything they wanted. Training them was a task, especially during the rainy season.”
Oberyn nodded slowly. “My girls are bred for speed,” he said. “Their mother was a gift given to my sister, and she bore me my puppies.”
You tried to imagine Oberyn cradling a tiny puppy. His hands were bigger than yours, and a puppy would probably fit in his palm. “Is the mother still alive?”
“Died of age years ago,” Oberyn said. “Right after bearing Persephone’s litter.”
The beautiful dark red dog looked up when Oberyn said her name, but went back to sleep shortly after.
“And what happened to the other puppies?”
“I got pick of the litter,” Oberyn said, smoothing a hand over Nyx’s head. “And the other puppies were given to knights or to houses who’ve sworn loyalty.”
You nodded. “These five were incredibly lucky.”
Oberyn smiled. “Two of them were the youngest born, and one was a runt.”
Both of your gazes went to the dogs curled around the fire. “Was it Artemis?” The blue dog had always been smaller than her sisters, but she had never been any less impressive.
“No.” Oberyn stood, sitting cross legged beside the fire and looking warmly at his dogs. “Athena was the youngest born in her litter, but wasn’t a runt by any means. Nyx was my first dog, the biggest in her litter of course. Persephone was a middle born, and I chose her for her fighter’s spirit. Artemis, bless her, was second youngest in her litter but she was an average size. No, it was Hestia who was a runt. She was so small, we all feared she’d die in the night. I fed her myself, with a rag soaked in milk, for months.”
You nodded, sitting on the other side of the fire and stroking Hestia’s silky ears. She was the best suited for hunting, with her dark brindle pattern and keen blue eyes. “She’s a magnificent dog.”
“She is.”
For the better part of the night, you and Oberyn sat in silence around the fire until it was nothing more than embers. All the dogs were long asleep, and the only reason you didn’t join them was because the room was stiflingly hot. Oberyn looked at peace in the heat, and actually seemed surprised when you got up to sit next to the cracked window. “Are you warm?”
“I’m boiling,” you said. “Dorne is a beautiful place, but must it be so damned hot?”
“Oh? And where do you come from that would justify Dorne being hot as the ovens you work in front of?” Oberyn asked, tipping his head ever so slightly.
You tucked your feet up under your body, leaning against the windowsill and looking out across the Sea of Dorne. “I come from a place where no man rules. My people have been there for generations and will remain there for generations. The land is firm beneath our feet, it’s why we all go barefoot. We have three seasons. The winters, the summers, and the rain. Each turn, between the winters and the summers, it rains. It rains a lot. No one is ever deterred by the rain, as it’s warm, so unlike the freezing rain in the mountains. We were barely fifty houses strong when I left, but our land stretches as far as the eye can see. Flat expanses of green, and in the summers the fields bloom with every kind of flower imaginable. It is a beautiful sight, and if you travel far enough east, you can see the shadows of the Dornish Mountains.” As you spoke, you grew only more homesick, wishing you could plant your feet in the mud and breathe, just breathe in the open air. Dorne’s air smelled of ocean and fish, and you craved the wetness of the petrichor smell you’d grown up with.
Oberyn joined you by the window, looking out at the glowing moon hung high in the sky. “What would you give to return?”
“Everything.”
It was an answer that seemed to stun the youngest Martell sibling. He blinked, still gazing at the moon. “Of course,” he said softly. “Of course.”
The next day, you spent all morning in the great hall, feeding the dogs under the table and reading a book you’d bought in town. Doran and Oberyn sat at the head of the hall together, arguing, but you couldn’t hear them, nor did you care to. You merely flipped a page in your book and fed Hestia another scrap of bacon.
Halfway through your day, you were interrupted in your washing of linens by the lake. Oberyn rode up to you, two horses and all his dogs by his side. “Come.”
You stood, dusting off your pants. “Where to?” You asked. “I doubt I’ll be much use on a hunting trip.”
Oberyn handed you the reins of a horse you’d trained early in your days of working in Dorne. “I’m taking you home.”
You went eagerly after that. You may have been wary, but Oberyn was sincere enough that you trusted him. The dogs followed you, ever the obedient hunters you had trained, as you and him rode hard northward, stopping to make camp as the sun began to dip below the horizon.
“Why are you joining me?” You asked once you’d made camp. “You could’ve sent me on my way, alone.”
Oberyn considered your words, turning meat over the fire. “You fascinate me,” he finally admitted. “You want for nothing in Dorne, and yet you are more homesick than anyone I’ve ever met. You talk about your home as if there is no better place to be. I want to see if you’re right.”
You grinned. “You’ll need firmer clothes than that,” you said, gesturing to Oberyn’s ornate robe. “It’s nearly rain season. Anything that isn’t made to stand up to the water will be ruined.”
Oberyn ran the fabric through his fingers, nodding. “What should I wear?”
“There’s a town not far from my home,” you said. “We’ll find you some suitable clothes there.”
The town in question was a three day ride away. While you rode, you and Oberyn got to know each other. He talked happily about his daughters, never favoring one over the other and seeming proud to have bore them all. In return, you told him about your parents, despite both of them being deceased. He was a good listener, hardly ever interrupting. As the weather grew colder and a wet chill filled the air, you felt yourself getting more comfortable, more at home.
The town finally loomed in the distance after three days on horseback, only stopping to rest the dogs or the horses. You were familiar with everyone, happily chatting to the townsfolk while you browsed thick clothes for Oberyn. He kept the hood of a roughly made cloak over his head, concealing his identity as he watched you make decisions. Finally, you walked away with a sturdy linen shirt that matched yours, reinforced brown pants, and a thick robe that mimicked the Dornish style while also remaining functional. It didn’t fall to Oberyn’s ankles as his vibrant yellow one did, the new faded deep green one stopping just above his knee. He grumbled about the color, but you hushed him as you donned a similar coat in faded burgundy.
As you continued east, the threat of rain grew stronger. You could smell it now, the rain heavy clouds a swirl of deep blue grey on the sky. Artemis whined when a distant rumble of thunder sounded, but you hushed her gently and nudged the horse forward. “We’re not far off. We’ll beat the rain.”
You were right. The village came into view before the rain started, and you quickly ushered the five dogs and one Dornish Prince into your family’s home as warm summer rain began to fall.
Oberyn stared at the ceiling in wonder as the rain began to pound. “Will it hold?”
“It’s held for three generations,” you said, putting logs into a fireplace and looking for your flint. “It’ll continue to hold, that I can swear.”
Once you got a fire going and some food set out for the dogs, you went outside. Oberyn tried to stop you, but you ignored him, opting to stand out back of the house instead. Rain soaked you to the bone immediately, but you didn’t care. The rain was warm and comforting, like being hugged by an old friend. Your hair slicked to your head and your clothes were sticking to your skin, but you simply tipped your head to the heavens and smiled.
You were out for a surprisingly long time before Oberyn braved the rain. He shielded his eyes and stood beside you, shoulders hunched. “Are you going to come back inside? You’ll catch a chill if you stay out here much longer!”
You shook your head. “No I won’t,” you said, looking over when a crack of thunder interrupted you. “Relax Oberyn, it’s only rain.”
Eventually, Oberyn loosened, standing next to you and admiring the rain. When he spoke again, his voice was full of wonder. “You worked in these conditions?”
You nodded. “Sometimes, the rain lasts for weeks,” you said. “We need to hunt, eat, and gather, so yes. I worked in the rain a lot.”
A bell sounded in the distance, and Oberyn looked over, shielding his eyes. “What’s that?”
“Dinner!” You said eagerly, taking his hand. “Come on. You want to see what I love about home? I’ll show you.”
The dinner hall was a sturdy building, bigger than the others. People filtered in, all soaked from the rain, so yours and Oberyn’s wet state wasn’t unusual.
“The dog keeper is home!” Someone said cheerily, seeing you showing Oberyn how to quickly towel his hair dry. Immediately, people began to crowd you, hugging you and asking why you’d returned.
“Oh,” you said, squeezing water out of your coat. “Someone asked me where I came from that would justify me calling Dorne hot as an oven. I felt compelled to show him.” You looped an arm through Oberyn’s elbow, and he looked at people you’d spent your entire life surrounded by.
“Is that Prince Oberyn Martell?” Someone finally asked in a hushed tone.
You shrugged. “Maybe in Dorne he is,” you said. “But out here, he’s just Oberyn.”
Oberyn seemed grateful, and you pulled him to a table. Food was passed around, and the conversation picked up once more. With the warm fire blazing at the front of the hall and the fall of rain against the roof, you felt more at home than you’d ever been. The people around you were your age, and they pushed you for questions about Dorne.
“Oh it’s beautiful,” you said, stirring your stew and dipping your slice of bread into your bowl. “But it’s so hot! I don’t know how those Dornishmen survive the heat in their robes!”
“We’re born there,” Oberyn said, bumping elbows with you. “Unlike you, that heat is all we’ve known.”
You grinned. “I will say, they let me play with the Prince’s dogs, so it’s not all bad.”
“Play?” Oberyn said, stunned. “You trained all the dogs! Let me tell you,” he said, turning to the people around you. “I’ve never met a better dog trainer in my life. If they weren’t so insistent upon working in the kitchens, I’d have promoted them to full time animal trainer already! Lord knows our horses need the firm hand.”
The people around you began to tell Oberyn about your past while you ate, happily telling him about how you’d once trained the village dogs to hunt in the pouring rain by slathering yourself in animal fat and racing through the woods while they hunted you down during the rainy season.
“Is that what you did with my dogs?” He asked when the story was done.
You shrugged. “More or less,” you said. “I take bits of my own breakfast and bait the girls. I told you, that was how I got them to swim so fearlessly.”
Oberyn nodded. “You know you could just ask for more food if you’re going to be sacrificing your own breakfast for my dogs.”
Another shrug. “I don’t mind.”
“Did you bring the dogs?” Someone asked, and you nodded.
“Of course!” You said. “I’ll let the young ones play with them tomorrow if this rain lets up. Although, it is what I missed most.”
“The rain?” The person sitting across from you asked. “Does it not rain in Dorne?”
You sighed, mopping up the last remnants of stew with bread you’d taken from Oberyn. “Not enough,” you said wistfully. “The most it’s rained since I moved there was an hour’s worth of mild rain. And it only rains once every month! It’s hell.”
After dinner came dessert, a sweet pastry filled with oozing red berries and topped with sticky honey. It wasn’t something that was made very often, and you ate yours quickly, savoring the flavors. Oberyn was more hesitant, and was a bit more dignified. However, no amount of dignity saved him from the fruit juices dripping down his chin and you laughing at him while handing him something to wipe his face.
After all the food was eaten, you bid everyone goodbye and braved the rain yet again. It was lighter now, and the children were chasing each other around, happily shouting and playing with the sturdy village hunting dogs. There was no rush for anything, and you didn’t hurry home. Instead, you walked slowly, despite the light rain, taking in all that you’d lost when you left. Oberyn held your hand, the hood of his robe pulled up over his head. He looked at ease here.
When you reached your house, the rain was no more than a light mist, and you eagerly pulled Oberyn around back. The sun was almost gone, but the final rays soaked the land in gold, illuminating the rolling hills and picturesque plains.
“Take a deep breath,” you said softly, seeing Oberyn’s eyes go wide. “And tell me what you smell.”
Oberyn took a breath, staying silent for a moment. “I can’t describe it,” he said, voice soft with awe. “It smells like earth and water and something not of this world.”
“It’s called petrichor,” you said. “The smell of rain on dry soil.”
A delicate silence lapsed over you two, bound only by your connected hands as you watched the sun fully set. Once the sky was dark, you pulled Oberyn inside, handing him a towel so he could dry off.
“How long are we staying?” You asked, stripping out of your soaked clothes and hanging them to dry on a line.
Oberyn, who was in another room for privacy, made a small noise. “I don’t know. A week? I must return at some point.”
You smiled, pulling on a linen shift and tossing another log into the fire that the dogs were surrounding. “I agree. I suppose the girls I work with will be disappointed if I don’t return.”
Oberyn came out of the room wearing a shift identical to yours. He began to hang his clothes beside yours. “It’s nice here,” he said. “I don’t know why anyone would ever want to leave.”
“I didn’t,” you reminded him. “If I’d been able to, I would’ve stayed here all my life. But then I would’ve never met you or your dogs.”
Oberyn smiled, sitting beside the dogs and gesturing you close. You sat with him, facing the fire. Hestia woke up, set her head in your lap, and fell asleep immediately after. You stroked her ears, humming to yourself. “Thank you for bringing me back.”
“Thank you for allowing me to come along,” Oberyn replied.
As you grew more and more tired, you finally relented and stood to go to sleep. “You’re welcome to join me,” you said to Oberyn. “I apologize, but there’s only one bed.”
Oberyn stood. “It’s fine. We can share.”
You took the right side of the bed and Oneryn took the left, you giving him an extra blanket when he started to shiver. His chills never faded, and you did the only thing left. You shifted in the bed, curling up against Oberyn’s chest and wrapping your arms around his middle, giving him your body heat.
“Your Dornish blood is at a cruel disadvantage out here,” you said softly, and you felt Oberyn chuckle.
“I’ll just have to adapt,” he murmured.
The next morning, you woke to no rain and a perfectly blue sky. Oberyn stayed asleep as you got dressed, made breakfast, and let the dogs out to play with the eagerly waiting children. As Oberyn’s dogs raced off to entertain the kids, you sat beside an open window, waiting for Oberyn to wake up.
When he finally did, he sat across from you at the tiny table and slowly began to eat, blinking sleepily at you from time to time.
“Good morning sleepy head,” you said finally, once the food had all been eaten and Oberyn looked a bit more awake. “How’d you sleep?”
Oberyn looked up at you. “Great. Where are the girls?”
“Outside with the kids,” you said, pointing out the window, where you could see the dogs running around with the children. “We’ll hunt them later, but for now, let them have their fun.”
“Ah.” Oberyn nodded. “Okay. So what do we do?”
You shrugged. “Typically, I’d have been working for a while by now.”
“We could work.”
“With those hands?” You said, taking Oberyn’s hands in your own. “Your skin isn’t accustomed to my kind of work, it would split immediately.”
Oberyn smiled. “So what do we do?” He asked again.
You squeezed his hands. “Whatever we want, Oberyn.”
“What if I want to go back to bed with you by my side?” Oberyn asked.
“Well then.” You stood, shedding your coat. “I guess we better get going.”
95 notes · View notes
fan-fantasies · 4 years
Text
Strength
A/N: Part 2 to Weakness. 
Pairing: Sigtryggr x Reader
Warnings: Smut, pregnancy
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Part One
Sigtryggr dispatched the Danes back to Wales, assuring them that he’d be joining them soon. Uhtred spoke with his men trying to figure out what had snapped in the young Dane to cause him to abandon the kingdom and search for some woman. Sihtric suggested that you were his sister, or some other kin. 
“I don’t think she’s his sister. Crazy like that is caused from losing the woman you love,” Finan sighed. 
“He said he had no wife,” Osferth said. 
“And I can say I have no balls, doesn’t make it true,” Finan chuckled. 
“I’d believe you,” Sihtric said. Finan punched the man in his shoulder and rolled his eyes. The men quieted down as they saw Sigtryggr approaching. 
“We should leave immediately,” he said, grabbing a canteen and filling it with water. 
“And where exactly are we going?” Uhtred asked. “We do not know where she went. We do not know her so we don’t know how she thinks or where she would go.” 
“I’ve been thinking about where she might go. I know that she had knowledge of the Danes settled in East Anglia. They would be the closest and safest option for her to seek refuge with,” he answered. 
“And who is she to you exactly? We have some wagers goin’,” Finan asked. Sigtryggr paused and debated on whether or not he should tell them. He knew that any wife or child could be used against him which is why he had been adamant about not having either, at least not for a long while. He wanted to live in safety and peace, limiting the threat to those he loved. 
Before he could answer, however, Haesten wandered over on his horse before he was set to leave. 
“Off to find Sigtryggr’s whore? Best of luck, Uhtred. I do hope that we meet again,” he smiled. Sigtryggr went to grab his sword but Uhtred stopped him. Haesten just laughed as he rode off with the other Danes. Osferth sighed and tossed the grinning Finan a coin.
“I don’t know how you haven’t killed him yet,” Sigtryggr said to Uhtred. 
“Trust me, his day will come and it will come soon,” he said. 
“She is not my whore. She should be my wife but I was blinded by my fear and now I may have lost her forever. I want to make a decent journey before nightfall, so if we could be on our way.” The men went and mounted their horses, setting off for East Anglia. Uhtred hoped that you were going that way, but none of them truly knew for sure. 
Meanwhile, you were still at the nunnery. You found that their company was soothing and you were of use to them. Many of them were older and found it hard to do the yard work which you gladly took over. You left them to their prayers and they left you to your thoughts. You knew that you couldn’t stay there forever, but for now would do.
You wondered if Sigtryggr had noticed your absence yet. Perhaps you had made your decision to leave too quickly. You supposed that he had a right to know about his child, but you knew that it would be a distraction for him. He was making a name for himself in England and he still had more to do before he could settle down. 
You were fine with living a simple life with your child if it meant that your love could achieve glory for his name. You knew many women had to sacrifice things for those they love, and happiness just had to be yours. 
You were broken from your thoughts when Sister Eawynn knocked on your door. 
“Supper is ready, dear,” she said. She was the only one that you had really opened up to there. She found you crying in the garden and comforted you. She felt bad for your situation and treated you kindly. 
She told you how the Danes that lived near by were not troublesome and that she felt times were truly changing. Perhaps one day soon, Saxons and Danes could live together in peace. You weren’t sure that it would happen soon, but you knew that the younger generation of Danes was tired of all the bloodshed. Victory could be won in many other ways. You told her that that’s how your Sigtryggr was. He had seen the hardships of battle and knew that sometimes words were the way to success. She took your hand in hers and smiled softly, telling you that he sounded like a good man. He was, you agreed, but you couldn’t interfere with his life any longer. 
You ate very little that night and had trouble finding sleep. You decided to sit in the moonlight for a while to ease your mind. The night was chilly, but not uncomfortably so. You took a seat under a large tree to sit and listen to the silence. You ended up dozing off with your cloak wrapped tightly around your shoulders. 
Off in the distance, Sigtryggr and the others continued to ride in the darkness. Finan was complaining that they should find somewhere to camp for the night but Sigtryggr kept asking them to ride just a bit longer. Finan was relieved when they saw the lantern in the window of the nunnery. Uhtred wasn’t thrilled by the sight, knowing nuns aren’t usually his biggest fans. 
They rode to the gate and knocked on the door, hoping someone was awake. Sister Eawynn opened the door a crack and looked out. 
“What do you want?” She asked. 
“We wish to lodge here for the night. Some food and ale would be appreciated,” Finan answered. 
“We will be gone by morning,” Sigtryggr quickly added. The nun looked them up and down and sighed before opening the door. 
“We don’t have ale, nor much food, but you are welcome to stay the night.” She led them to the main hall and gave them from bread and water. The men were grateful to have a place to rest out of the elements, even if the majority of them felt uncomfortable in such a religious place. 
“Thank you, sister,” Osferth bowed his head. She gave him a soft smile and turned her attention to the other, more rough looking, men of the group. 
“Do I get to know whom I am feeding?” She questioned. 
“I am Uhtred Ragnarson, these are my men, Finan, Sihtric, and Osferth,” he pointed to the tired men. 
“I am Sigtryggr, Lord of Wales,” he said. 
“Sigtryggr?” The holy woman repeated. He nodded, confused at her sudden question. “May I ask to where you are journeying to?” 
“East Anglia, to the Danes that are settled there. I am going there to join my... wife.” Sigtryggr’s eyes fell to the floor at his fib. 
“Your wife, you say? She wouldn’t happen to be about yea high, (Y/H/C) hair, pretty girl?” She asked. Sigtryggr jumped to his feet and ran to the woman, startling her. 
“You’ve seen her?!” 
“She sleeps here this very night. I am only telling you this because she made you out to sound like a good man and I know that a good man will make things right by that dear girl,” she said. The men looked at each other in surprise. Sigtryggr could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn’t considered that you might not even want to see him. You did flee from him after-all. 
“Please, take me to her. I do wish to make things right.” She led him down the hall to your makeshift chamber. She knocked on the door and when she heard no response, she opened it slowly. 
“(Y/N), are you awake?” She whispered. She opened the door wider and noticed that you weren’t in your bed. Sigtryggr pushed past her and into the room. He noticed that your bag was still there but you were not. 
“Where could she have gone?” He questioned in a panic. Had you heard them come in and fled in the night? Did you really not want to be with him that terribly? 
He ran back to the hall where the other men were already dozing off. 
“She isn’t here. We have to leave now, we can probably find her.” 
“In the dark when we’re all exhausted? Why don’t we wait until morning,” Finan suggested, leaning his head back against the wall. 
“Because she is out there somewhere. She could be in danger!” 
“Who’s in danger?” The frantic man whipped around when he heard the voice. He wasted no time in running over to you and scooping you up in his arms. “Sigtryggr? How did you find me?” 
“By the fate of the Gods,” he sighed in relief. The nun pursed her lips and shook her head. 
“Why? Why did you come after me?” You asked. You were still disoriented from just waking up and you didn’t know how you should react. 
“Because I love you and you ran from me,” he lowered his voice, “and took something of mine with you, I hear.”
“Haesten,” you sighed. You looked at the other men standing behind him and recognized Uhtred but not the others. “Maybe we should let these men rest. We can talk in my room.”
“Thank you, lady,” Osferth said. You told Sister Eawynn that she had nothing to worry about and led Sigtryggr to your room.
“I’m sorry I left without a word but I couldn’t ruin your chance at glory. I couldn’t be the cause of your weakness,” you admitted. He cradled your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes.
“You are my strength. You could never be my weakness, not you nor our child growing inside of you,” he said. A tear slipped down your cheek and he kissed it away.
“But you said-”
“I know what I said, but times are changing. Life no longer has to be endless battles and bloodshed. I will lead our people into a new era of victory, with you by my side as my wife. And I will create a new world for our child.” By the end of his speech you were bawling. He was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear but it all seemed too good to be true.
“Surely it can’t be that simple,” you told him.
“No, it won’t be simple, but I won’t give up. Not on that dream nor on you. I should’ve made you my wife long ago, and now I’m asking your forgiveness.” You collapsed into his arms and sobbed. Damn pregnancy emotions.
“Of course. Of course I forgive you. As long as you can forgive me for leaving,” you said.
“There’s no reason to apologize. You wanted what you thought was best for me and I could never be angry at you for that,” he replied. You said nothing more, just pulled him into a kiss.
He sat on the bed and sat you in his lap. The kiss was hungry and passionate, like neither of you could get enough. He broke the kiss and began to nip at your neck.
“I could never live without you.” His voice was breathless and raspy. His hands touched any part of you that he could get, trying to memorize every inch as if you were going to disappear.
You pulled your dress up around your hips as you straddled him. You fumbled with his pants, pulling his cock from it’s confines.
“There’s no rush, my love,” he chuckled.
“No, I need you. I need you now. We’ll have all the time in the world for patience later,” you said.
“All the time in this world and Valhalla,” he replied. He hissed in pleasure as you sank down on his cock. He filled you perfectly, like the gods made him just for you.
You began to ride him, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him inside you. You began to move faster, his breath quickening, filling the room with sounds of pleasure.
His fingers dug into your ass in the most delicious way as he guided you on his cock. Pressure was building in your stomach as you approached your release. He pulled you in for another kiss when he felt your pussy clenching him tighter.
His hips lifted to meet yours at the perfect moment, sending you over the edge. Your head fell back and your vision went white for a split second. You were brought back down to earth when Sigtryggr flipped you onto your back.
“Did you think I was done with you?” He growled in your ear. He thrusted into your sensitive pussy, your body arching off the bed. His hands found yours and held them over your head as he pounded into you.
Your body writhed beneath him as you could already feel your second climax approaching. His hair tickeled your neck and the sensation was enough to overload your senses. Your legs locked around his waist, not being able to stop the scream of ecstasy that tore from your throat. His rhythm began to stutter until he finally stilled within you, finding his own release.
No words were exchanged, just the sounds of your breathing. He laid next to you and held you in his arms. His hand settled on your stomach and a small smile found it’s way to your lips. For the first time in a long time you felt at peace, like everything would be okay. Maybe there was strength in love after all.
——————————————————————
Sigtryggr Taglist: @ivarinleatherpants
TLK Taglist: @cornervase
298 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Reluctant Allies: Enemies Team Up: a reading list
Steel Crow Saga by Paul Krueger
Four destinies collide in a unique fantasy world of war and wonders, where empire is won with enchanted steel and magical animal companions fight alongside their masters in battle. A soldier with a curse Tala lost her family to the empress’s army and has spent her life avenging them in battle. But the empress’s crimes don’t haunt her half as much as the crimes Tala has committed against the laws of magic... and her own flesh and blood. A prince with a debt Jimuro has inherited the ashes of an empire. Now that the revolution has brought down his kingdom, he must depend on Tala to bring him home safe. But it was his army who murdered her family. Now Tala will be his redemption—or his downfall. A detective with a grudge Xiulan is an eccentric, pipe-smoking detective who can solve any mystery—but the biggest mystery of all is her true identity. She’s a princess in disguise, and she plans to secure her throne by presenting her father with the ultimate prize: the world’s most wanted prince. A thief with a broken heart Lee is a small-time criminal who lives by only one law: Leave them before they leave you. But when Princess Xiulan asks her to be her partner in crime—and offers her a magical animal companion as a reward—she can’t say no, and soon finds she doesn’t want to leave the princess behind. This band of rogues and royals should all be enemies, but they unite for a common purpose: to defeat an unstoppable killer who defies the laws of magic. In this battle, they will forge unexpected bonds of friendship and love that will change their lives—and begin to change the world.
Deception Cove by Owen Laukkanen
Former US Marine Jess Winslow reenters civilian life a new widow, with little more to her name than a falling-down house, a medical discharge for PTSD, and a loyal dog named Lucy. The only thing she actually cares about is that dog, a black-and-white pit bull mix who helps her cope with the devastating memories of her time in Afghanistan. After fifteen years — nearly half his life — in state prison, Mason Burke owns one set of clothes, a wallet, and a photo of Lucy, the service dog he trained while behind bars. Seeking a fresh start, he sets out for Deception Cove, Washington, where the dog now lives. As soon as Mason knocks on Jess's door, he finds himself in the middle of a standoff between the widow and the deputy county sheriff. When Jess's late husband piloted his final "fishing" expedition, he stole and stashed a valuable package from his drug dealer associates. Now the package is gone, and the sheriff's department has seized Jess's dearest possession — her dog. Unless Jess turns over the missing goods, Lucy will be destroyed. The last thing Mason wants is to be dragged back into the criminal world. The last thing Jess wants is to trust a stranger. But neither of them can leave a friend, the only good thing in either of their lives, in danger. To rescue Lucy, they'll have to forge an uneasy alliance. And to avoid becoming collateral damage in someone else's private war, they have to fight back — and find a way to conquer their doubts and fears.
Kingdom of Exiles by Maxym M. Martineau
Exiled beast charmer Leena Edenfrell is in deep trouble. Empty pockets forced her to sell her beloved magical beasts on the black market—an offense punishable by death—and now there's a price on her head. With the realm's most talented murderer-for-hire nipping at her heels, Leena makes him an offer he can't refuse: powerful mythical creatures in exchange for her life. If only it were that simple. Unbeknownst to Leena, the undying ones are bound by magic to complete their contracts, and Noc cannot risk his brotherhood of assassins...not even to save the woman he can no longer live without.
Winter of Ice and Iron by Rachel Neumeier
In this gorgeous, dark fantasy in the spirit of Jacqueline Carey, a princess and a duke must protect the people of their nations when a terrible threat leaves everyone in danger. With the Mad King of Emmer in the north and the vicious King of Pohorir in the east, Kehara Raehema knows her country is in a vulnerable position. She never expected to give up everything she loves to save her people, but when the Mad King’s fury leaves her land in danger, she has no choice but to try any stratagem that might buy time for her people to prepare for war—no matter the personal cost. Hundreds of miles away, the pitiless Wolf Duke of Pohorir, Innisth Eanete, dreams of breaking his people and his province free of the king he despises. But he has no way to make that happen—until chance unexpectedly leaves Kehara on his doorstep and at his mercy. Yet in a land where immanent spirits inhabit the earth, political disaster is not the greatest peril one can face. Now, as the year rushes toward the dangerous midwinter, Kehera and Innisth find themselves unwilling allies, and their joined strength is all that stands between the peoples of the Four Kingdoms and utter catastrophe.
8 notes · View notes
lokigayforhela · 4 years
Text
Rumors
Summary: As Hela’s advisor and childhood friend, you spend most of your time with her. When rumors start to surface, you and Hela decide to stoke them further.
Warnings: fake secret dating?? slow burn (i tried to be as slow as possible tbh)
A/N: This was written as a very belated birthday/early Christmas present. Also this is an AU where Hela doesn’t end up getting banished and everything’s fine (because I need a happy ending tbh). Sorry that it took so long and for any spelling errors or crappy writing!
Word Count: 4065
Being the daughter to Odin’s advisor wasn’t terrible, most of your life was spent in the palace. Growing up alongside the the princess, who had seemed to favor you and you her. The two of you were near inseparable, until your late teens as Hela’s duties started to overtake most of her time. Soon enough Odin took Hela on conquest after conquest with him, leaving your father in charge of running the kingdom in his absence. They returned every so often but only for a few days at a time, before they were off again. Each time you rarely got to talk with Hela except for the briefest hellos in passing, you came to accept that the two of you had drifted apart, to no one’s fault.
After a year of conquering they returned, you still rarely saw Hela but didn’t try to seek her out, not wanting to bother her. It seemed however that fate had other plans as you were assigned as her advisor, since you had helped your father when he had been temporarily ruling.
———
Today was your first day as Hela’s advisor, she nervously paced her room, she was the goddess of death and had slain thousands of enemies yet she was nervous to talk with you. Ever since returning, she noticed you rarely spoke with her, rarely sought her out, and she desperately missed you. Eventually she asked Odin for you to be assigned to her for the time being in an excuse to spend time with you.
The knock at the door was a welcome reprieve from her anxious thoughts, “You may enter.” You stepped in and Hela took you in, still as beautiful as ever, she concluded.
Curtsying, you avoided her gaze nervously staring at anything but her. “Your Highness.”
“Since when did you get so formal?”
You faltered, “It’s been awhile, I just assumed…”
“That I forgot about my closest friend? Never.” You relaxed and she pulled you into a hug. She still felt the same, you thought as you melted into her embrace. “I have missed you.”
“And I, you.”
The day was spent following Hela as she spoke with lieutenants in the army. She seemed to take every moment you two were alone to flirt with you, by the end of the day you were sure you had blushed more in the past twenty four hours than your entire life combined.
The next few weeks passed along normally at least to you they did, as Hela continued to flirt with you. However you didn’t notice the small changes that had passed, the way she was insistent on you sitting next to her at all events, the look she gave you when you smiled, how often she brushed her hand against yours or even the way that her eyes lingered on you longer than necessary. While you may not have noticed, others had and unsurprisingly rumors started.
Hela started to notice how you became yet again reserved around her, speaking only when spoken to and even then you would only give a curt reply. You were pushing her away and she couldn’t stand it.
——
“As the princess, I command you to stop.” Freezing immediately, you turned to face Hela. She took measured steps towards you, stopping only when you took an involuntary step back. Hurt flashed across her face but it was quickly hidden. “Have I done something to offend you?” “No. No…” Pausing hesitant to voice the rumors, she arched her eyebrow expectantly, forcing you to continue. “There’s simply been some gossip that—well that people think you and I are together.” You finished not daring to look at her as blush colored your face. “Oh.” Silence descended upon the two of you quickly, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole. “Does that bother you?” She asked finally. “No I’m honestly flattered that they think you would ever be enamored with me.” You chuckled, casting a furtive glance at Hela whose expression was unreadable. Unaware of the battle currently going on in Hela as everything in her mind told her to admit her feelings and to pull you into a kiss; but her body didn’t comply. She simply stared at you memorizing how your smile made your eyes crinkle at the edges and how your eyes caught the light. “Is everything alright?” You asked taking a few steps forward out of concern. “Fine.” She answered snapping out of her thoughts, to find you much closer than before. “I apologize for the rumors I assure you I’ve tried not to stoke any of it hence my avoidance of you.” “I appreciate it but I rather enjoy your company and the rumors don’t bother me.” Because I do want you. She nearly voiced the last part but you smiled at her and she suddenly couldn’t seem to find any words. She was useless when it came to you.
Hela went through the day thinking of ways that she could see you again and confess her feelings. She found you talking with one of the servants in the garden, as soon as you two caught sight of her she noticed the servant tense and their smile drop. Yours however stayed just as bright and beautiful. “I’d like to speak with Y/N privately.” Hela said and the servant practically bolted away from you both. Confused but not unhappy, you turned towards her. “Was there something that I could help you with, Hela?” “I was thinking about the rumors and instead of just ignoring it…what if we gave them something to actually talk about?” “What do you mean?”
“We could pretend to be together.” Her expression was carefully passive, which you knew meant she was nervous. “Only if you’re willing.” She added quickly. “Of course.” Grinning you ignored the way your stomach flipped at the thought of what pretending to be with Hela would entail. She mirrored your grin. ”I look forward to courting you.” “As do I.” The rest of the evening was spent in Hela’s chambers discussing how you two would go about stoking the rumors. It reminded you of all the nights you spent, giggling and gossiping with her when you were both younger. Formalities and professionalism fell, familiarity and comfort taking its place.
“When should we start?” You asked pacing as Hela sat at the foot of her bed watching amused at how concentrated you seemed to be. As if on cue, footsteps echoed from the hallway. You both shared a look knowing that while Hela’s maid wasn’t the biggest gossip in the palace it would be a start. Quickly you moved to straddle Hela, “Is this okay?” She nodded and with that you pulled her into a kiss. Hela froze momentarily as you continued to kiss her, before she returned with just as much passion. When she finally managed to kiss back, there was a knock at the door.
You pulled back and Hela threaded her fingers into your hair pulling you flush against her causing you to moan. Another knock at the door and you nipped at her bottom lip.
Just as quickly as you had kissed her you pulled away moving off of her. All for show, Hela reminded herself. “You may enter.” She said her voice hoarse and you smirked at her. Adra entered and immediately noticed Hela’s disheveled state and then yours. You had to hold back your laughter as she put two and two together and her eyes bulged. She placed a few blankets on the bed. “I’ll just go now.” She said before nearly running out of the room and slamming the door shut. “I am sorry about the whole springing the kiss on you.” You muttered when you were sure Adra was gone. “Don’t be. It was a brilliant idea.” She said, still thinking about how your lips felt on hers.
“I should get some sleep, since we have a big day tomorrow.” You said moving towards Hela stopping a foot from her. Carefully you cupped her face and wiped away the smeared lipstick with your thumb. Her breath hitched at the contact but you politely ignored it, thinking that she was still reeling from the kiss. “We don’t want them to get too suspicious.” You explained dropping your hand, much to Hela’s disappointment. “Goodnight.” Hela abruptly stood up, “Y/N.” Turning you faced her, a nervous smile playing on your lips. She copied your movement wiping the smeared lipstick off you, you refused to admit that there was almost a wanting look in her eyes as her hand dropped. “Goodnight.”
——-
The next morning you went about the day normally until you saw Hela. It was agreed upon the night before, that while kissing in front of anyone was generally off the table, everything else was fair game. So when you caught her gaze across the room, you looked at her adoringly and shamelessly, letting your eyes wander up and down. She tensed and gave you a questioning look, you smiled in reply before walking away.
Weeks passed, with the small touches, comments, and glances. Both of you were aware that the upcoming feast for the summer solstice would mean that your flirting would have to be discreet enough to keep from her parents and yours, but not so discreet to others.
The summer solstice feast was in full-swing when you entered, it wasn’t long before Hela found you and looped her arm through yours deftly maneuvering between the throngs of people. She took a seat at the table, you sat next to her. Halfway through the feast you felt Hela’s gaze on you, while you had looked at her like a lovesick teenager, she stared at you as if she was about to devour you.
“Your Highness, may I ask for a dance?” Malik, one of Odin’s newer guards–a boy in his late teens–asked. Hela’s gaze never wavered, he cleared his throat and attempted again. “Your Highness?”
Whether it was intentional or she truly hadn’t heard him, you decided to save him the embarrassment. Leaning in you rested your hand on her thigh, biting your cheek to keep from smiling. “Hela, I believe Malik was asking you a question.”
She clenched her jaw and turned to Malik, he shrunk under her gaze and you pitied him. “What was it again?”
He nervously folded his hands, “I-I was hoping to ask you, if you would like to dance?”
“No.”
She turned away without hesitation, he stared in shock before slinking off. “That was rude.” You muttered.
“I didn’t want to dance with him.”
“You could have let him down gently, he’s sweet and barely more than a child. He’s also definitely in love with you.”
“All the more reason to be blunt and not give him the notion that I turned him down out of propriety.” She placed her hand over yours keeping it on her thigh, “Besides, I thought we were keeping up the ruse that we’re hopelessly in love. Dancing with others doesn’t exactly come off as romantic.”
Your cheeks burned and you couldn’t help the smirk that formed, “Would you rather I be jealous and possessive of you? Glaring at anyone who dared look at you too long? I could call you ‘mine’, if you want.”
She tightened her hold on your hand, you met her gaze again and you swore that she was blushing but she got pulled into a conversation with someone else before you could be sure.
You played the part perfectly all with that damn smirk, she could live with this, the proximity, the small touches and glances were enough. They would have to be enough.
————
The two of you sat in Hela’s chambers spread out on her bed. She silently read as you sat next to her tracing invisible patterns on her palm. Hela became infinitely distracted by the small gesture, which didn’t go unnoticed. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been reading that page for five minutes.”
She sighed, closing the book and turning towards you. “I need advice.”
Her sudden serious mood made you tense. “Well that’s kind of what I’m here for.”
“Do you think when I’m queen that people will still fear me?”
You softened, tracing the lines on her palm and taking a moment to choose your next words carefully. “I think that your title intimidates most people. After all most people fear death, but depending on how you rule their perception of you will change.”
“Do you fear death?”
You looked up at her, “No.”
“Do you fear me?” Her voice quiet, she looked vulnerable, so unlike Hela that it gave you pause.
You smiled softly attempting to lighten the mood. “Do I fear my closest friend, the girl I grew up with, the beautiful princess that I’m advising? Hmm, nope.” The relief she felt showed and you pulled her gently onto your lap. “Come here.”
“Are we still going to play this childish game?” Nonetheless Hela obliged laying her head in your lap.
“You love it.” You teased, gently running a finger down the bridge of her nose.
The game started when you were children, both claiming that you weren’t ticklish, the other sought out to prove it. Somehow you thought to trace Hela’s face carefully and sure enough, the ever-slight sensation of your finger running down her cheek had made her giggle. You never let her live it down, eventually she asked you to do it again until it was a common occurrence for you to try to tickle her.
As your finger outlined her jaw, she was reminded of the last time the two of you were in this position. She had just learned that she would be expected to conquer alongside Odin, sensing her distress you insisted on going out. You planned a picnic and brought her along, as she finished her food she rested her head in your lap and you attempted to make her smile by drawing random patterns on her face and neck. The sensation nearly lulling her to sleep, your voice however had brought her back. “Things are going to change aren’t they?”
She opened her eyes and stared up at you, her breath catching in her throat. The sun was behind you catching in your hair, making it appear as if you had a halo of light and you were staring at her so genuinely, so lovingly that she wanted to stay like that forever. “They already have.”
You smiled at her, moving to press a kiss to her forehead. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was overcome with the desire to kiss you, to make you understand her feelings even if she didn’t quite understand them herself. “Well no matter what, I will always care about you, that’s something that won’t change. All that I ask is you come back safe.”
That was the day she realized she was in love with you, that was also the last day before she threw herself into her duties to ignore her feelings.
———
Anxiety tugged at your stomach as you walked onto the balcony. The queen had summoned you and various scenarios ran through your head of what she could want.
“Y/N don’t be so reserved, come over here.” Frigga smiled, you relaxed and obliged. “How do you like being an advisor?”
“I don’t think I would enjoy it as much if not for Hela.”
“I believe the same could be said for her. And your parents seem proud of your position, considering they haven’t stopped talking about it.” You chuckled and the queen smirked.
“I have to thank you and the king for allowing me the opportunity in the first place.”
“We weren’t responsible for it, Hela was…I assumed she told you about it.” The conversation splintered into silence, as you wondered why Hela hadn’t mentioned it.
You looked out at the view, it was breathtaking on an evening like this and as soon as you were no longer worried Frigga said the most anxiety-inducing sentence she could.
“I know about you and Hela.”
You opened your mouth to interject but she held up a hand. “You two are terrible about hiding it, anyone can see the way you look at each other. I’ve never seen Hela quite this happy and I’ve known you since you were a child, I trust you won’t hurt her. Which is why I give you Odin and I’s blessing if you two choose to publicly court. Now is there anything to discuss?”
A moment passed where you stared at her dumbstruck, before you realized she was still waiting for an answer. “I-no I don’t believe there is, your majesty…Thank you.” She nodded and you walked away in a haze.
——-
You returned to Hela’s chambers, she opened the door just as you were about to knock. “There you are, I was just about to go looking for you.” She said, pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed with her.
“I was talking with your mother.”
“…oh what about?”
Attempting to keep from smiling you gnawed on your bottom lip before replying. “Well your parents gave their blessing should we decide to publicly court.”
She sputtered, her face flushing. “They what?”
You recounted what had happened as Hela sat next to you, holding your hands in her own. Her smile grew each second and by the end she couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was going to find you and tell you that your parents came to give their blessing.” She explained between breaths.
This time your face reddened and you laughed. “Dear gods.”
“Well should we ever decide to court we know our parents won’t be against it.” She said once the laughter died down. Hela smiled conspiratorially at you, your heart pounded and before you knew it you kissed her. It was more of a peck, than a kiss but it confirmed your suspicions. As quickly as you moved to kiss her you moved back, “Goodnight, Hela.”
Not giving her time to respond you left, the knowledge that you were in love with your best friend and future queen leaving you a nervous wreck.
———
You spent the feast in a lovelorn state, all of the usual glances and touches felt painful. Hela’s hand stayed on your thigh most of the night, she leaned in every so often to whisper about how unbearable some person was and her lips would brush against your ear as she spoke.
Hela spent the feast giddy, ever since you had kissed her goodnight she was sure you felt the same and decided to tell you that she was in love with you. She was bolder with each touch, going as far as to purposely lean in closer each time.
As the feast ended she pulled you along to one of the more secluded hallways, “I have something to discuss with you.”
“I do too.”
She took your hands in hers, “You first, darling.”
You took in a steadying breath, “I don’t think we should continue this…”
“Going to feasts? If you rather not then we don’t–”
“No, not that. I-I don’t think we should continue this fake relationship.”
She froze for a moment, her eyes never leaving yours. “Can I ask what changed?”
I‘m hopelessly in love with you. It was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it, knowing that she was looking at you as if you were stepping on her heart. You looked away, pulling your hands away from hers. “I mean this started to stir up rumors and we definitely accomplished that considering even our parents believe were together, but I don’t believe there’s any other reason to continue?”
Hela wracked her brain trying to find any excuse, but none came to mind. “…I guess not.”
You attempted to give her a reassuring smile but it probably looked more like a grimace, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hela.”
—————
It had been two weeks since the split, if you could call it that. Two weeks since that night and the two of you had been walking on eggshells around each other, trying not to think about the other’s glances, the fluttering touches that made skin ignite.
The two of you walked through the gardens, an uncomfortable silence between you. “Are you going to the feast for the Winter Solstice tonight?” Hela asked, her gaze finding yours.
“No.”
She nudged you lightly, “You should come.” “Is it one of my duties?” It was a fair question, you had been told to attend other events in the past. Her face fell, quickly replaced by her own mask of indifference. “No, I would be disappointed if you didn’t attend though.” Blush colored your face. It was settled, you would attend then. ———–
While Hela usually enjoyed the winter solstice, tonight one of the guards had been flirting with you the entire night. Hela glared at anyone dumb enough to flirt with you in front of her but this man didn’t take the hint. Or the second one. Or even the third. When the guard asked you to dance and took your silence as a yes, leading you to the dance floor; Hela was preparing to execute him.
However it wasn’t until she saw the guard’s hands move too far down that she finally snapped. And suddenly you found Hela standing next to you glaring at him.
“Leave.” She commanded and for a moment you thought she was telling you but he left nearly running from her. Before you could ask what all of that was she had already taken your hand and placed her hand on the small of your back. Your body followed along and you found yourself dancing with Hela, it was cliche to feel as if the world faded away as you danced. But when Hela looked at you, it was hard to not feel like you two weren’t the only people in the room.
The song ended far too soon for your liking as she was expected to give a toast leaving you to try to understand what just happened. You walked to the gardens, lights had been hung around it and you sat down on a bench admiring the lights and flowers.
Minutes passed before you felt someone watching you, you turned to find Hela standing there. “Get sick of people already?” You found yourself asking. She chuckled, moving slowly and taking a seat beside you.
“I simply wanted to spend time with you…” She answered and you attempted to hide the blush coloring your cheeks. It was a futile attempt as she smirked noticing how flustered you were. “I was also hoping to talk to you about something.”
You met her eyes and were surprised at how she was looking at you, if you didn’t know any better you would dare say it was anxiously. “Of course.”
“I have something I’d like to confess…I’m in love with you.”
“Hela–”
She rushed to continue, before you could tell her you didn’t feel the same, before you could walk away. “I’ve been in love with you for quite some time, since we were children even and while I know that you don’t feel the same. I can’t keep up this ruse pretending that I don’t care for you. I suspect the rumors started because of my own inability to hide my adoration for you–” You surged forward kissing her feverishly and cutting off the rest of her ranting confession, she pulled you flush against her returning each kiss just as passionately.
Slowly as each kiss became softer, you pulled back to look Hela in the eyes. “I love you too.” She smiled, eyes crinkling around the edges.
Making your way back to the feast, you took your usual seat next to her. She held your hand, every so often squeezing it as if to make sure you were still there. A few minutes passed before Hela turned to you, “Should we stop the rumors?”
You nodded, “We probably should.” Hela smiled leaning forward and kissing you, in front of her people, in front of her parents and yours. It was a declaration that was no longer just rumors.
Pulling back you smiled at her, “I’m not sure if that’ll stop them or stoke them.”
“Who cares.” She said before kissing your cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First of all, I am so SO sorry for posting this so late, I kept forgetting it was in my inbox, but I assure you I read it as soon as you sent it, and I love it So Much! Slow burn is so nice and you captured it so nicely in this fic, and it was such a lovely gift. Thank you, so much!
98 notes · View notes