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moonshine-nightlight · 11 months

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Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Five

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 25

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] Part Twenty-Five [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You’d thought the galas had been uncomfortable, but apparently they are nothing compared to the three Northridges in an argument.

You’re all in the study Grandmother’s been lent for your stay, Dale and yourself at a table with Dale’s paperwork spread out around him while Grandfather paces having long vacated his own chair. You wish you could occupy yourself by reading his notes, but they’re in a shorthand code you don’t know. Probably for the best for secrecy purposes, but unhelpful as a distraction. You wonder if Dale will teach it to you once you have the time.

“Unacceptable,” Grandmother says, frowning at Dale. You think it’s the sternest she’s ever looked at him given her usual soft spot for her grandson. “Pride is no excuse not to use every advantage at your disposal to locate these enemies.”

“Unnecessary,” Dale corrects. He presses his lips together before he forces himself to take a deep breath. You appreciate how he keeps his frustration contained, his eyes trained on his notes and waiting to respond when the original Dale would not have. You want to comfort or show your support for him, but you’ve no idea how. So you keep your hands clasped in your lap and hope that when the moment comes for you to assist, you notice it. “All the combatants were defeated; we need to focus on who paid them. I doubt any of the true architects behind the attack would be found out by exorcists. Such people would only be useful at locating the mercenaries.”

“You cannot be certain that the skinwere is truly vanquished,” Grandfather insists, not pausing in his pacing.

It’s challenging to know when you should speak up and when you should keep silent in this argument, particularly when it is not yet your family. Your inclination during verbal fights is nearly always to remain silent. Your eyes dart to Dale, whose expression does not give away that he is by far the most knowledgeable regarding whether or not he has killed a demon or merely removed a possession. Unfortunately, that would not be a helpful interjection.

Grandfather continues, “It might have simply returned to the Depths. What will you do if it returns? In a new body, it will already know your strength and will be more prepared. It will have all the knowledge it gained prior to the attack. It could take you by surprise. An exorcist—”

“Is unnecessary,” Dale repeats. He finally looks up from his papers to meet first Grandfather’s and then Grandmother’s eyes in turn. “I know that it is vanquished. An exorcist will only waste money to confirm the same thing. Many of them are charlatans regardless, no more able to identify and banish a demon than anyone else and only able to part the gullible from their coin.”

“I know plenty of competent and qualified exorcists, Dale,” Grandmother’s tone is arch, clearly not thrown off by Dale’s rebuttal. “The persistence of the demonic is not to be underestimated.”

“We have been dealing with these threats longer than you have, my boy,” Grandfather says, a paternal and condescending tone to his voice. “We have the experience. We have the contacts. We should be leading this investigation and yet you are willfully keeping vital information to yourself.”

“Yes, and I shall continue to do so,” Dale replies, eyes back on his papers while you resist the urge to fidget under Grandfather’s intent and frustrated gaze. He had shared some of the information he learned about the employers of the mercenaries from his separate, second fight with Two with you, but nothing with his grandparents beyond his confirmation of Two’s defeat. You’re not sure that his grandparents realize he’s told you even a word or two more than them and are not sure if you even want them to find out. “I was the target of this threat and I shall be the one to see it ended.”

“Now is not the time to act too big for your britches,” Grandfather snaps.

“If this is a bid for maturity, for lordship, it is misplaced,” Grandmother’s voice is clearer and sharper. “Only the childish attempt to do things in isolation, mired in a false sense of independence, in pride, in hubris. There is no need to prove yourself, Dale,” her voice gentles here, at the end. It is interesting to hear them make points that would be valid, if only they were aimed at their grandson and not the present Dale. They don’t know they are arguing against a stranger, that their words are aimed at a ghost. “There is nothing to prove. There are only enemies of Northridge to deal with, with everything we have at our disposal.”

You wonder how the original Dale would have handled this argument, if he even decided to have it. The point might have been moot given how much this Dale needed to draw on his nature to win it. Maybe instead you and his grandparents would have been here, reading a ransom note. Maybe you or grandmother would not have survived the night.

“You expect us to trust your judgment,” Grandfather says, strain in his voice as he attempts to rein himself in, “but there are actions that speak against such rational thought. I still cannot believe the utter foolishness that you demonstrated, chasing after one into the night. Do you know how many of those demons have powers over darkness?”

You look down at the papers on the table, just in case your eyes or expression otherwise give away how ironic you find that statement. Picturing Dale’s control over shadows and darkness brings back memories of the fight. It also brings up memories of the dream you had last night. The dream’s images conjured to your mind by the sight of this new Dale, with his humanity an obvious after thought, to be contemplated while asleep. Darkness poured over the estimate of the human form, his bright eyes, the strength and speed he possessed in those moments.

You feel your cheeks heat at how the dream had diverted from the memory it began by rehashing. Of how it was routed in the manner of his hand on your chin after the fight had ended. In your dreams, his grip had once more been delicate silk over wrought iron strength. He had done more than look as he checked you were whole. His voice had that same reverberation of feeling and affection you heard near the end of the fight, when your name on his lips had evoked such emotion.

“I was not acting out of immature pride or foolishness then and neither am I now,” Dale replies, snapping you back to the present. His jaw is set as he puts his pen down to give them his full attention. “I am acting as I see fit, based on the circumstances at hand. I had received the training required and the knowledge to hold my own in such a fight. I had observed my opponent and knew the limits of his capabilities as well as my own.”

Dale’s confidence in the fight, even more so than in the tournament, had been obvious. Even now it was a comfort to you, to know how strong he truly was. This Dale’s strength is an asset, not the concern it had been originally. You still might have advised him to include his grandparents, if you didn’t know what you knew and how dangerous such a thing could be to him now. He must be walking the line between those who know who hired the mercenaries and those who can tell what he is very carefully indeed.

“My estimation was correct as I returned and they did not. It was not luck or coincidence and I’ll not discuss in maybes,” Dale adds at the end when it was clear Grandfather was going to add something more. “We are already here, now, and we are not discussing the actions already taken, but those yet to occur.”

Dale clears his throat and shifts in his chair before continuing when neither of his grandparents spoke, allowing him the time to do so, despite their misgivings. It was interesting to watch, and unlike many such discussions in your family, but perhaps the circumstances that were different here resulted in the older relatives not simply talking over the younger ones. “Those circumstances are clear: the attack was directed at me personally, the attack was a coordinated effort of fellow nobility, and they did not see Northridge as capable of defending herself from such threats. I have corrected them on the final point. They will be unprepared for such an eventuality and will need time to re-group and plan, as well as raise funds due to the amount paid in advance to the assassins. They will see the wedding as too distracting to us to move quickly now, which I am also subverting.”

“Most likely, they don’t even know that the assassins have failed,” you chime in with a glance at Dale, glad to have thought of something to add. Some of this you’d discussed with Dale the other night while you and the doctor bandaged him up. Unfortunately, since you’d been joined in the dressing room by the doctor and Dale’s valet, you’d not been able to continue your more private conversation. Since then, the only time you’ve been alone, have been short walks between meetings which has been the time to discuss much at all. “From what we overheard, it is unlikely that they had other team members. It will take time for their lack of communication and lack of success to reach their patrons—who might even think they simply took the money paid upfront and then left, if we’ve managed to keep word of the attack properly stifled. That confusion and uncertainty is something we can take advantage of as long as we are subtle.”

Dale is clearly trying for patience, but he’s also frustrated when his grandparents don’t seem particularly persuaded by these arguments. “We all agreed that keeping the news of this attack as quiet as possible and painting it as a minor event was for the best. Have either of you changed your minds regarding that decision?”

“No, of course not,” Grandmother replies, frowning.

She tries to continue speaking, but Dale continues instead, “Your primary resources are the full might of the law and those at your disposal in Northridge, your contacts in the realm of the law throughout the country and beyond, and your prior experience dealing with similar attacks during the height of your senate career.” Dale is exclusively addressing Grandmother at this point. “The majority of those resources would require bringing in a great deal more people and would undermine our decision to keep this attack quiet.”

“And my experience?” Grandmother asks, arching a brow.

“Which I have listened to extensively over the years,” Dale says, a mild tone of long-suffering grandchild in his voice, likely a mix of the original Dale’s familial condescension and his own exasperation given his personal greater experience. “As well as in the past few days as you recounted more details that had been omitted from the stories you told in my youth. If there is anything further you wish to share, please do so. However, throughout your tales, you worked exclusively with a small network of those loyal to you and involved only Grandfather in our family.” The implication that this is what Dale was doing by excluding them and including you was obvious.

“That is no reason not to share your strategy with us, Dale,” Grandmother says, disapprovingly. “My parents were unable to provide helpful advice in this arena, not in the manner your Grandfather and I can. I cannot recount every detail of every experience I have had. Sometimes the smallest details are most relevant and yet do not come to mind until the moment of connection is made. I cannot provide such insight if I am blinded.”

“I appreciate that,” Dale replies. “But the danger posed by making you a target, is greater in my mind than the value of that minute insight might afford. If I were struggling on my path of discovery and response, I would agree share further, but I am not.”

“And what of my resources?” Grandfather is agitated by Grandmother’s considering silence and at being ignored.

“My understanding of those you have at your disposal are primarily contacts for exorcists, demon hunters, mercenaries. Additionally, given the speed at which such lives are lost and won, I expect many are outdated. I mean no offense, but, you last actively utilized them over a decade ago. I think you certainly have solid relationships you could pull on that would steer you in the right direction to active members far quicker than the average person. But that it would still take time. And they are not who we need at this time. The assassins are all dealt with, I do not believe new individuals will be contracted with soon, and so the patrons are my focus.”

“I have contacts among the peers,” Grandfather says defensively. “Many who might have heard of who would use such an underhanded move such as this or who could discover such tactics. I am not so far removed from the game.”

“And this is the crux of the matter, is it not?” Dale’s frowning and for the first time in a long time, he reminds you of the old Dale. Your heart races with anxiety over his disapproval, even if it’s aimed at his grandparents and not you. You’d forgotten how much he’d made you nervous in the beginning, perhaps because this Dale makes you nervous too, but the difference in why has never been more stark.

This Dale worries you because of how much you still don’t know about him, about what he wants and what he plans. The conversation you were hoping to have that night never occurred, your time together interrupted by servants and doctors and Grandfather. You haven’t been alone since, except for short spans in the halls, where anyone might overhear and so you are both careful to remain vague. The lack of clear communication has become a larger and larger source of frustration for you. Sometimes he makes you feel as if there is more at stake because you believe there is more to gain from his partnership.

That Dale had worried you because of what you did know of him, rather than how each new hint you discern for this Dale reassures you. The original Dale, his arrogance, his moods, his overconfidence, his heavy handed assumptions, and his temper—his clear ability to hold grudges—all caused worry and nervousness to creep through your veins.

And in the split second Dale reminds you all that, he also helps wash it away. Because it is so clear, that while he’s frustrated and displeased with this conversation, obviously tense from the subject and the line he has to walk regarding what he knows and needs to do with his grandparents, you are not afraid. Not of him.

He takes a deep breath, his stare intense, but his jaw unclenched, his hand open on the table. “I also have such contacts,” Dale points out. “Fresh contacts from my travels and time in court. I am the one who moved directly in these circles that the ones targeted me have come from. I am the one most able to deal with this threat. You must know that, even if it worries you.”

Grandmother frowns, but doesn’t look away. “I cannot approve of you keeping us out of this investigation, especially given my involvement already, but I do understand why you wish to, however much I wish I did not. None of my fears lie with your capabilities, my Dale.”

“I know,” Dale replies, leaning back in his chair. His arm moves to the armrest and the back of his hand brushes against your own, just a touch too strongly to not be deliberate. You startle a little at the pressure, enough that Dale retreats, his fingers curving around the end of the arm rest. You hasten to correct yourself, not able to explain that you were surprised, nothing more. Carefully, you place your hand on his forearm, fingers loosely wrapping around his wrist and giving a, hopefully, comforting squeeze. A reminder he’s not alone.

He continues to look at Grandmother, but he turns his arm over and you slide your hand into his. It's grounding in the same way your embrace had been and you’re all too pleased to be able to do so now. “However, I believe it to be the right move, the one with that will grant the greatest chance of success with the least complications. And I will stand by it.”

You look over to Grandmother and find her staring at your joined hands. Your instinct is to let go, like a child caught doing something naughty, but while your hand spasms, you’re able to calm your racing heart and keep your hold on Dale.

Grandfather opens his mouth with a frown, but Grandmother cuts him off, “Very well. We will let you handle this, for now. If another attack occurs, we will not be kept to the sidelines.”

“Understood,” Dale replies, but you can feel his relief in how his hand relaxes in your own.

“And the moment you believe that you can use our help, you must promise to ask for it,” Grandmother continues, not looking away to Grandfather who’s come to stand beside her.

Dale nods, but she continues to wait and you give him a look. He blinks in surprise before realizing what she wants. “I promise that if I believe further aid from you would be warranted, I will ask for it.”

“See that you do,” Grandmother says before her demeanor lightens, her smile nostalgic as she says, “You have grown so much, my boy.”

Dale looks startled. This time his hand twitches in yours. It's clear he has no idea what to say and so he merely nods, looking back down at his papers. He tries for casual as he replies, “Yes, well, that is what tends to happen.”

Grandmother’s smile only widens and Dale reaches with his free hand to straighten the papers. Something written catches his attention, though you’ve no idea what given his shorthand code. “Actually, I was hoping to get your opinions on one part of my investigation.”

“Of course,” Grandfather says gruffly, still obviously displeased with the turn the conversation took, but not enough to disagree with Grandmother.

“I would appreciate your impressions of the two primary candidates I have for one of the patrons,” Dale says after a glance at you. When you walked over with him to the study and discussed this part of the conversation. You shared your impression of three primary patrons, which he confirmed having received the same information from Two: the Duke, the knight, and the heiress. You have no thoughts on two of them but you did express your suspicion of the knight from Eastmont, due to both his animosity and his knowledge of demonics, which Dale agreed with.

Dale seemed to have his own suspicions about the heiress, but the Duke, he’d only been able to narrow down to a short list. Hopefully, not only would Grandmother and Grandfather be able to advise on who to look at first, but also should mollify them regarding Dale more or less shutting them out of the rest of the investigation and action he planned to take against these conspirators.

“He was referred to as ‘the Duke’, which I believe to be literal,” Dale says. “Between that and the reference to gambling, I suspect either Duke Gaelole or Duke Karihas. Both I played at cards and won substantial amounts from, though of course no cheating was needed on my part.”

Grandmother cackled. “I taught you too well, sweetheart. I am also surprised that those two are still playing as they did.”

You’ve only heard these names and not had any personal interaction with either of them. It begins to get harder to follow certain family connections, when not bragged about, and so it's possible you went to school with a grandchild of one of them. That’s likely the only connection you could have had, sheltered as you had grown up.

“Duke Karihas,” Grandfather rubs his chin as he speaks. “He is arrogant, too fond of the drink and I can only guess, more susceptible to it than before. However, it is not his style to hold grudges. His memories tend to fade quickly with time, no matter the size of his losses. His children fund such vices these days as he still breaks even more often than not. Duke Gaelole on the other hand…”

“He plays the gallant and generous lord, but in truth, he would gut his own grandson in an alley over disrespect or a lost bet,” Grandmother pronounced. “He plays the amiable host, the graceful loser on those rare occasions he loses, but he is cold as a fish and as ruthless as a demon.”

“I had thought, even though the loss was smaller, that he might be the true enemy,” Dale admits, the frown deepening on his face. “There were repeated losses and he grew both more charming and more insistent as time wore on for rematches. There was a look in his eyes when I finally refused to play anymore hands and collected my winnings. A dangerous one.”

You wonder how the original Dale’s memories appear to him now. You wonder how he grew to learn how to read human expressions. You hope this Dale isn’t inclined to gamble, no matter what skills Dale used to possess. You feel now is not the time to bring such a matter up, but you feel buoyed that you likely will try to discuss it with him, because you feel you can.

“He’s got deep pockets, Dale,” Grandfather warned. “And he does not hesitate to dip into them as he pleases. He’s notorious for holding grudges and acting on them. Notable careers ended or reputations ruined, if he so desired. Tread very carefully with him.”

“I understand,” Dale replies gravely. He looks back and forth between them. “All I ask is that you allow me to take the lead on this matter and to trust that if I can use your assistance, I will ask for it. I know you would wish to do the same. Trust I would not put my faith in empty pride if I truly did not feel I had the resources required to bring these enemies of our family to rest.”

“I do not like this,” Grandfather says. “I do not think it is necessary.” His shoulders slump, ever so slightly, “But I would do the same, and have done so in the past.”

“You have a year or until another attack,” Grandmother warns, “before we act, with or without your leave. It is only in consideration of your determination and persuasion that I allow you this freedom to deal with the threat as you will.” Unexpectedly, her eyes find yours, “And I also trust that you are not conducting your investigation alone. That you are involving your soon to be spouse as well.

“Yes, Grandmother,” Dale replies dutifully, you echoing him only a beat behind. He smiles at you in response, resting his hand over your own and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Pardon my intrusion, my lords, my ladies.” You turn to see Grandfather’s valet opening the door to come in. “In addition to alerting you that it is time to begin preparing for this afternoon’s gala, I also have a letter.”

“Our thanks for the reminder,” Grandfather says. “Who is the letter for?”

His valet walks over to you, rather than any Northridges. “It is addressed to the family, but to my lady’s attention.”

You accept the letter, frowning at the handwriting of the address. It doesn’t look familiar and you’re not expecting any mail. Are you? After these past couple days, anything unexpected makes you nervous. You quickly break the plain seal, wanting to get past this new tension as soon as possible. The message inside is short and in a hand you do recognize. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Dale asks, leaning closer and clearly as on edge as you had been. “Is something amiss?”

“Oh, nothing like that. My family has arrived.” You don’t know why the thought is so foreign, so disconcerting. And yet everything that has happened in these whirlwind days seems so far removed from your life before Northridge, that your family seems like an unexpected intrusion. You knew that they had to be arriving before the wedding ceremony, but Mother had said travel was more unpredictable than she’d expected and hadn’t been able to provide an estimate for their arrival. “They will be joining us at the gala tonight.”

[Part Twenty-Six]

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ameliapodcast · 30 days

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Did you know we have an episode right for this specific holiday? You didn't, did you! Ha!

#the amelia project #h #sorry for the delay #i am stumbling out of my room covered in straw and chicken feathers #from having played the new stardew update since it came out #tried to go for marriage #just roomed with Krobus again as usual #and whoops today is easter #happy easter everyone #Spotify

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lazyveran · 7 days

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In the political marriage au, I’m wondering about the possible problematic of having an heir for zuko and toph. As you said they’re more bestfriend than husband and wife and zuko is in a “relationship” (or whatever it is ahahahah) with mai.

So what if mai gets pregnant, are they gonna keep and fake that it’s toph and zuko’s child?

And also are katara and azula going to have kids?

so! in the context of the au it does get quite comical. zuko and toph are in full agreement that the marriage is a civil partnership. they're besties that care a lot about each other and the work they're trying to achieve through each other.

toph is actually fully aware zuko is having an affair with mai, and actively encourages it. she thinks mai is tough as hell and she makes zuko happy. (their sappy lovey dovey-ness also irritates azula to no end, and toph LIVES for annoying sparky) toph and mai are good friends by the start of the fic.

SO when mai does eventually get pregnant, they three just agree that they 'pretend' she's tophs and naturalise her as zuko's true heir. just as bastard children can be made legitimate through law, the three just agree to do the same and not really mention it. izumi gets three parents! as you can expect, the entire goddamn nation knows its mai's and not toph's, but its simply the worst kept secret ever, (just like maiko's affair is). also, and this is more gross elitist, the nobles are actually more pleased the next heir to the throne isn't half earth kingdom. it IS an insult to house bei fong and the EKs, but toph resolutely fights against that. mai's family also take it as an insult, but between azula making them chew their teeth and the simple fact mai is in a VERY powerful position, they keep quiet.

i think very hard about azutara having kids. i think it's a big thing for katara, part of her slightly miserable dreams about if the war ended and she was able to have a life outside of fighting again. and azula is. well. she'll have a journey about it. there's still many MANY issues she harbours (ala she literally killed her own father and the Ursa Complex). utlimately i think it may be a healing thing for azula, and probably the final thing that cements azutara's marriage. they'd have two :)

#azutara #political marriage au #anon ask #sry for the delay on answering this i needed my brain to work proper before answering

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nyaruhodou · 2 months

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this is so cute thank you for cheering my love life on nagi

#i was like lol idk if im ever getting married (she was telling me abt the hinamatsuri tradition of putting all the dolls away quickly #or else your marriage will be delayed)#and she said here: you never know who you will meet in your life! maybe in tokyo your love life can start~

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hopeinthebox · 6 months

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your tags (and also your reductress posts) are the funniest most charming thing i have ever seen on the internet and not to be parasocial but i wish we were best friends

ANON!!! not to be parasocial but we absolutely are?? anyway quick question- is it too soon to say i love you

#i do not struggle with parasocial relationships in fact they come very easily to me #how could you say this to me and expect anything less than a proposal of marriage #funny AND charming?? somebody write this down #skdjfbjdks thank you ever so much my love i wish i didn't have to spend a week smiling and giggling and kicking my feet before responding #but once i'd started i found it quite difficult to stop #wishing you all the good stuff <33 #ask #anon #best friends forever #no but in all seriousness i do apologise for the delay -#i've had a particularly Rough Week but this has cheered me up immensely and i really can't thank you enough #MWAH #💚💚💚

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littlepawz · 6 months

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#spending #online shopping #overspending #humour #adult humour #ha ha #delaying the inevitable #one way of doing it #coping strategies #marriage #marital discussions #LOL

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flowercrown-bard · 2 years

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Not Yet

(arranged marriage au - part 13)

previous part / masterpost / ao3

word count: 3416

“Not yet,” Geralt said gravely.

“But-”

“No.”

Jaskier gave Geralt his best pleading look. Unfortunately, his best, at the moment, was quite pathetic. It seemed big eyes weren’t half as effective, when they were accompanied by a red, runny nose and constant sniffling.

“Why can’t I go out with you? You promised to take me for a ride with Roach.” Jaskier tried for a winning smile and sat up, which made the blanket slip down from his chest. “I’m almost fine again.”

Geralt lifted a brow and crossed his arms, but not before tucking the blanket back in place. Jaskier was sure he was aiming for a stern look. His one consolation was that Geralt too wasn’t very convincing right now. His seriousness just didn’t have the same effect, while he was sitting at the edge of Jaskier’s bed, occasionally blowing on a cup of tea to cool it for Jaskier and exuding an air of concern.

“Almost,” Geralt echoed. “Until you’re definitely fine, you’ll stay in bed.” Jaskier groaned and let himself fall back into the pillows.

“You’re cruel.” His words couldn’t have been more of a lie and they both new it. Geralt had stayed by his bedside every free moment for the past three days. He had endured Jaskier’s snotty nose and his complaining and had wiped the sweat off his brow. In sickness and in health, Jaskier thought and his heart fluttered helplessly.

“And you’re dramatic,” Geralt shot back with a good natured roll of his eyes. “And sick.”

Jaskier would have very much liked to give a response to that, preferably something appropriately dramatic, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his body was shaken by a sneeze. He sniffled undignified and snuggled into the blankets, miserably.

“I should have known something like this would happen,” Geralt continued and handed Jaskier the cup of tea. He always seemed to have one of those handy these days.

“I did know,” Jaskier said, his voice coming out scratchy and hoarse, “and I still did it.”

If he was being completely honest, he could count himself lucky that he hadn't caught anything worse than a cold and a mild fever by staying up on top of a tower at night. The numerous furs must have prevented the worst and as much as Jaskier had hated leaving the tower again in the middle of the night, when Geralt had blinked awake, it had probably been for the best that they had done so.

“Why?” Geralt asked.

Because a cold is a small price to pay for spending the night watching the northern lights with you asleep on my shoulder.

But he couldn't very well say that, so Jaskier lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip of the tea to give himself some time to fight off the blush that was creeping onto his cheeks. With any luck, Geralt would mistake the flush for a side-effect of the fever. Or, well, maybe it wouldn’t be so lucky, since that would do little to convince Geralt that Jaskier was healthy enough to leave his room.

“Because it was worth it,” Jaskier said simply, when he handed the cup back.

That earned him a small smile from Geralt.

“I'll remember that next time you complain about your sore throat.”

“Hey, I can complain and still not regret it,” Jaskier mumbled. His eyelids were growing heavy. Whether the sudden sleepiness came from the fever or from being surrounded by comfortable furs and being warmed by Geralt’s tea, he couldn’t tell.

“I noticed,” Geralt said.

Jaskier lost the fight against his eyelids for but a second and when he opened his eyes again, Geralt was reaching out towards him. He brushed Jaskier’s hair back and carefully felt his forehead. After a moment, his hand migrated down to Jaskier’s cheek, but instead of feeling his temperature with the back of his hand, he was cupping his cheek, his thumb caressing it with barely noticeable movements. Jaskier leaned into touch, closing his eyes again. He could gladly fall asleep like that.

“Almost fine,” Geralt said.

“Fine enough to go outside?” Jaskier mumbled, more for the principle of it than to genuinely argue. Even he could hear that he was slurring his words, half-asleep already.

Geralt chuckled quietly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet. Not like this.” Geralt stopped Jaskier, before he could run out of his room and produced yet another article of clothing from the bag he brought with him. “I’m not making the same mistake twice. You’re not going out in the cold without proper clothing again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Jaskier half-heartedly battered Geralt’s hands away, but Geralt only caught his hands and slipped wooly gloves onto them. “You’re perfectly capable of taking care of me. No need to prove yourself. I already like you.”

Jaskier’s words gave Geralt pause.

“Maybe I just like taking care of you.”

He didn’t look at Jaskier’s face as he said it but at his hands, which were now cozy and warm.

Jaskier could feel his face heat up and quickly buried his chin in the thick scarf Geralt had wrapped around his neck, hoping nonsensically that it would hide the redness of his cheeks, lest Geralt take it as a sign that his fever had returned. A week of being cooped up in his room with Geralt mother-henning over him was quite enough. Granted, the scratch in his throat wasn’t fully gone yet, but mercifully, Geralt had decided that the danger of Jaskier perishing of boredom was stronger than the cold. And gods, was he bored. Forbidden from leaving his room, Jaskier hadn’t been able to work at the library or the stables. His sore throat had denied him the opportunity to practice his singing and his tired eyes had made reading nigh impossible. He was brimming with excitement at the prospect of going outside again, even if only for a little while.

“Alright,” Geralt said, tugging Jaskier’s furlined hat a little bit deeper, until it was fully covering his ears. “We can go.”

Jaskier beamed at him, grabbed his hand and practically dragged him along. He wished he could feel Geralt’s hand in his, but he had to admit that the soft wool felt nice on his skin. Growing up down south, there had never been a need to bundle up like this. Overcome with sudden giddiness, Jaskier raised his free hand up to his face and ran his gloved fingers over his cheeks, grinning even more widely at the feel of the soft wool.

He thought he heard a quiet sigh from Geralt, but it was hard to tell through the hat muffling any sounds.

Once they reached the entrance hall, Geralt held the door open for him. Gratefully, Jaskier slipped through and was immediately greeted by a harsh wind that had him stagger back and right into Geralt’s chest. His nose scrunched up and he rose his shoulders to shield himself from the cold.

“Regretting it already?” Geralt asked bemused, as he gently pushed Jaskier forward.

“Never.”

Together, they strolled through the yard. Geralt insisted on staying inside Kaer Morhen’s walls, “so we can’t get inside quickly, if it gets too cold for you.”

“Oh please, you could easily warm me up,” Jaskier replied with a cheeky smile. The words had slipped out without hesitation and they weren’t followed by the wave of insecurity and mortification he had come to expect. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly had changed between them that night on the tower, but something was different. Easier.

He supposed giving an almost naked man a massage broke down some walls, but it was more than that. It wasn’t just that touch came easier to Geralt now. That uncomfortable unspoken thing hanging over them had shifted into something comfortable that might one day be spoken about. For now though, Geralt was speaking with actions, with fussing and indulging and letting Jaskier swing their hands back and forth as they walked past the other witchers, who interrupted their training to give them funny looks. Geralt ignored their teasing comments and pulled Jaskier towards one of the little plateaus, from where they could see the woods.

Every second they spent like this, strengthened Jaskier’s opinion that the cold had been well and truly worth it.

This time, it was Jaskier’s turn to sigh wistfully.

Geralt turned to him, slowing down his steps. “Are you bored already? Should I have brought some books for you?”

“No,” Jaskier said. “I’m happy, actually. Really happy.”

“Hmm.” When Jaskier bumped him with his elbow, Geralt added, “Me too. You’re good company.”

Geralt grimaced at his own words, but they made Jaskier chuckle.

“Speaking of good company,” he said, “do you think Roach missed me?”

Geralt snorted, not unlike a horse himself and steered them towards the stables.

“Terribly.” The corners of his lips tilted up. “She especially missed those treats you always sneak her.”

“I do what I have to do to charm her,” Jaskier said, not even attempting to look innocent.

“You’re plenty charming without giving away food.”

“A bold statement coming from the man who has been bringing me chicken soup for a week,” Jaskier teased. “Believe me when I say that food does wonders for anyone’s charm.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

When they stepped into the stables, Jaskier was immediately met with warmth and the by now familiar smell of horse. He made a beeline towards Roach’s box.

“Hello there, lovely lady” he said, as the mare curiously stretched her neck over her box’ door to huff a warm breath into his face. “Sorry for being gone for so long.”

Roach clearly didn’t forgive his absence. Or more likely, she didn’t forgive the lack of treats in Jaskier’s pockets, for she didn’t waste another moment snuffling at Jaskier and just turned her head away.

“Don’t mind her,” Geralt said. “She’s just jealous because I spend so much time with you.”

Unbidden, Jaskier’s mind jumped back to that first day of their travels to the Keep. He remembered thinking that if one day, he’d receive even a slither of the affection Geralt had for Roach, he’d be the happiest man on the Continent.

“Does she have reason to be jealous then?” he half teased, half asked out of serious curiostiy.

Geralt only hummed, noncommitally, but Jaskier was sure that beneath the amusement, he could make out something soft that made him feel warmer inside than any amount of tea or soup could. He slung his arms around his middle, trying to contain the feeling that threatened to burst out of him.

Geralt frowned down at him. “You are cold,” he stated nonsensically. “Do you want to go back inside?”

Jaskier took a step closer to him and leaned against him.

“No,” he said. “Not yet.”

Geralt hadn’t come to Jaskier’s room that day yet. Which was fine. Jaskier wasn’t needy. Well, not that needy at any rate. It was just…his voice was better and he was really excited to sing again and he wanted to celebrate by having a quiet evening with Geralt by the fire, serenading him.

Despite feeling much better, Jaskier had promised Geralt that he wouldn’t stroll around the keep without Geralt there to make sure that he really was alright so he had sat waiting in his room for what felt like hours. Still, Geralt wasn’t here and Jaskier was beginning to get antsy. He kept glancing at the window to see how close the sun had gotten to the horizon. It was still light outside, but to Jaskier it felt as if it must be late in the evening already.

It took about five more minutes for his resolve to wait for Geralt to waver. Technically it wasn’t strolling around, if he had a goal in mind, was it? So he wasn’t really breaking his promise by heading out to search for Geralt.

He bundled up in all of the soft garments Geralt had given him - partially because he loved the coziness and partially to appease Geralt - and left his room.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where Geralt was. On his way to the stables, Jaskier passed Lambert and Aiden, who exchanged knowing looks when they saw all he was wearing, but for once didn’t comment. He asked them where Geralt was, only to have his suspicions confirmed. Maybe it was Jaskier who should be jealous of Roach, if it was true that his husband had spent the better part of an hour with her instead of coming to see him.

As he walked closer, he could hear voices coming from inside the stables. That is, he could hear one voice. Geralt didn’t speak particularly loudly, but the door was left slightly ajar, so Jaskier assumed it couldn’t be a private conversation Geralt was having. Not wanting to interrupt, he stopped next to the door, leaning awkwardly against the stable wall and fiddling with the frayed threads of the scarf.

“- that you…you are - fuck.” Geralt’s muffled voice turned into a frustrated growl. “I can’t do this.”

Jaskier’s heart squeezed. He wanted to abandon his post by the door and see if Geralt needed comforting. Maybe the frustration simply stemmed from something mundane, like one of the white horses had rolled around in the mud again. But it sounded more serious than that. After weeks of living with him, Jaskier was no stranger to the sounds of Geralt’s general frustration. This was something else. There was a groan that sounded like it was half-repressed by hands, as if Geralt was pressing them against his face.

Jaskier had almost made up his mind to go check on Geralt, when the witcher spoke up again. “Alright, let me try again.” He cleared his throat and though Jaskier couldn’t hear it, he was sure that Geralt was taking a deep breath and pulling his shoulders back. “You are - you make me - I like -” He broke off again.

Jaskier waited for a response, any comforting words to be directed Geralt’s way, but none came. Instead, there was only the sound of hooves scratching at the ground and soft nickering.

“I know,” Geralt said and - oh. Oh, he was talking to Roach again. Jaskier tried to ignore the glow spreading through his chest. How could he not be weak for the way Geralt liked to confide in his horse? “Don’t judge me.”

Knowing that Geralt wasn’t in the middle of some important conversation with a partner who could actually respond, Jaskier should have felt fine with interrupting him. Or at least make some noise to alert Geralt to his presence. Jaskier’s fingers twitched and he tugged nervously at the scarf.

It was wrong to listen in. Then again, the last time he had overheard Geralt speak to someone, it had ended with Jaskier making friends and Geralt slinging his arm around Jaskier’s shoudlers. So maybe there wasn’t much harm in staying a little. He could still leave when it sounded like Geralt was saying something that he would mind Jaskier hearing.

So he pressed himself closer to the wall, out of sight of Geralt, but close enough to better catch what he was saying to his horse.

“It’s - I don’t know what to say. It’s easy for Lambert to say I should just give out compliments. He knew that Aiden would like to be complimented by him. It was no problem for him.”

Roach snorted and Jaskier could hear a soft thunk and a pleased hum from Geralt. Jaskier peeked through the gap left by the open door, to see Geralt press his forehead against Roach’s neck.

“You're beautiful,” Geralt said softly enough that Jaskier had to strain his ears to understand the words, “I like being around you.”

Jaskier's heart warmed, as he listened to Geralt speak so tenderly to his horse. He could barely repress a coo that surely would have alerted Geralt to his presence.

“You are a good - no. You are one of the best men I know.” Wait. What? Roach very much wasn't a man. “Is…is that too much?”

Geralt paused, as if waiting for Roach to reply. Predictably, she didn’t.

“I know it sounds stupid when I say it,” Geralt grumbled. “That’s why I’m practicing. Least you could do is pretend to listen.”

Ah. That made more sense. Jaskier lowered his head, hiding a smile, though there was no one around to see it anyway. It was adorable that Geralt was shy enough to rehearse giving compliments with his horse.

The smile faltered, when the implications of that caught up with him. Geralt was practicing compliments. There was someone out there he wanted to compliment. Someone he considered one of the best men he knew. A brief flicker of doubt tied Jaskier’s insides into knots, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. Geralt had promised to tell him if there was anyone he liked. He had to trust him that he would keep his word.

Overhearing this now was a good thing. Knowing that Geralt might have fallen in love allowed him to prepare for when Geralt told him. It wouldn’t come as a shock and Jaskier could do his best to push his own feelings aside and be supportive.

His thoughts were interrupted, when Geralt took an audible breath and repeated, “You are one of the best men I know.” This time, there was a different cadance to his voice. It sounded more earnest, more important. “That night on the tower was the best night I had in a long time and I hope you’ll join me up there again, even though you got sick this time. I promise to take better care of you in the future.”

Oh. Oh.

Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat. He pressed the scarf against his lips to prevent himself from letting out a treacherous squeal.

“It's so easy with you, Roach.” The frustration was back in Geralt's voice, “so why can't I say the same things to him without making a fool of myself? I tried telling him that he’s charming. I can’t believe how stupid it sounded when I said it. And there were so many other chances to compliment him and I just let them pass by. The things he says - can you believe he asked me if you had reason to be jealous? It would have been the perfect opportunity to say - but I froze up again. I don’t know how to do this. Why is this so hard?”

Roach huffed again.

“Yeah I know.” Geralt scratched her between the ears. “We both know why.”

Jaskier’s heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it would jump out of his chest at any second. Quickly, he pushed himself off the wall and forced himself to stop focussing on Geralt’s words. It wasn’t heart, with the blood rushing in his ears and the giddy repitition of ‘he likes me!’ bouncing through his head. There was no guarantee that Geralt’s feelings ran any deeper than liking him, but Jaskier couldn’t help imagining the possibilities already. And imagining was all he could do. Listening for longer wasn’t an option, now that he knew that it was him Geralt was talking about, as much as Jaskier wanted to hear what else Geralt had to say. It could not be any clearer that this moment wasn’t meant for Jaskier’s ears and he had invaded Geralt’s privacy for long enough.

In the privacy of his own mind, Jaskier allowed himself to admit that there was another reason why he didn’t want to continue eavesdropping. A tiny part of him hoped that maybe Geralt was going to practice saying certain three words and he didn’t want to listen in on that. If Geralt ever said those words in regards to Jaskier, he wanted to hear them for the first time to him and not about him.

For the first time, since marrying Geralt, Jaskier had hope that he might truly hear those words one day.

For now, Geralt wasn’t ready to say them to him, if he even felt that way about him, and judging from the way he sometimes still squirmed when Jaskier complimented him or alluded to his feelings, he wasn’t ready to hear them either.

Well…

“Not yet,” Jaskier said with a small smile, as he turned away and hurried back to his room to wait for Geralt to come to him in his own time. “Not yet.”

—

tag list (please tell me if you would like to be added or removed from this): @spookylostboy @justablobfish @karolincki @flosimo @rebrandedbard @hollowxo @silvertonguelover @inanoldhousewrites @yaskefer @emotional-support-fandom @fandoms-princess @kore888 @fen-thenobling @geraskier-thots @strippiluolamies @sharinalein @slumberingcorpse @elle-ja-bell @bellathecatastrophe @hockles @fangirlwithoutinspiration @ban-aard @mothmanismyuncle @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @longdeadtemple @ cristianoreblogo

#sorry for the delay in posting this on here #arranged marriage #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #witcher #fic #my writing

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stiltonbasket · 1 year

Note

in the lotr au with elf lxc/dwarf nmj, how did nielan meet?

They met when Lan Xichen saved a young Nie Mingjue and his mother from an orc fierce corpse attack. Nie Mingjue was around ten at the time.

#asks #lotr au #nielan #nmj fell in love at first sight #as he does in every universe #but though he did see lxc every now and then they never actually spoke again until after nmj was crowned 70+ years later #after which they became friends #and about 20 years after THAT lxc showed up on nmj's doorstep with half-elf bby jingyi like #look at my new son brother mingjue! :D #nmj was heartbroken but also more smitten than ever #he pined in silence for the next 30ish years and then finally confessed to lxc #but their marriage had to be delayed because jingyi got stuck down a mine shaft on the wedding morning

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heathastrologys · 2 months

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What To Do If Saturn Is In The Seventh House Of Horoscope?

In Vedic astrology, Saturn attains Digbala or strength in the seventh House. A strong or Digbali planet gives good results. The seventh House is the house of marriage and spouse. Individuals with a well-placed Saturn in the 7th House are likely to take their love life seriously and have great aspirations. Those with Saturn in this position usually have a happy marriage, but it may happen later in life, perhaps after they reach age 35. They may become prosperous, powerful, and famous after marriage. However, because Saturn can also be challenging, it may bring health issues, difficulties conceiving children, and physical intimacy or satisfaction in marriage. Let’s understand what can happen if Saturn is there in your seventh house.

Importance of 7th House

The 7th House is an important concept in astrology as it governs relationships, partnerships, and marriage. It reveals how people interact with others and form connections, which affects the quality of committed relationships and legal agreements. This house also represents open enemies or adversaries and emphasizes the themes of balance and social interaction, which shape interpersonal dynamics and approach to relationships in both personal and professional spheres of life.

Effects of Saturn in 7th House

With the effects of Saturn in the 7th House, you may see yourself as superior to others and can come across as impolite in your youth. However, your spouse may help you in your career after marriage, and your patience and knowledge will earn you a good reputation. You'll become more serious and mature after 30, and your spouse may have a simple lifestyle. This placement suggests success in careers like law, teaching, writing, or academia.

Saturn effects on Health

You can feel lazy and become prone to health issues like stomach problems. Saturn can affect our health, causing chronic conditions and challenges. It can affect bones, teeth, joints, and skin, making people more prone to arthritis, dental problems, digestive issues and skin ailments.

Saturn effects on Marriage

When Saturn is in the 7th House, it can negatively impact a person's romantic relationships and married life. People with this placement may find it difficult to choose a life partner and might feel confused and uncertain. These problems can become worse if Saturn is retrograde, and can lead to marital issues. It's common for individuals with this placement to feel scared of commitment, marriage, and responsibilities. They might have negative experiences and beliefs about relationships, which can cause pain and sadness. As a result, conflicts, arguments, and heated exchanges with their spouse are likely to happen, which can cause fragility, self-centeredness, and impatience, ultimately damaging your marriage. Moreover, your spouse or mother may also exhibit strict and disciplined traits.

Saturn effects on Career

With a positive and well-placed Saturn in this position, you will approach tasks with dedication and enthusiasm, following a strict routine. You may become a diligent worker, especially in your middle years, as Saturn emphasizes routine and discipline. In career astrology, Saturn gives good results in the seventh house but it can make you lazy as well.

Having a positive Saturn in the 7th House can bring discipline and virtue to your career, promoting harmony within your workplace. If Saturn is located in Libra, it can create Sasa Yoga, resulting in a luxurious lifestyle. When Saturn aligns with friendly planets such as Venus and Mercury, it forms Raja Yoga, which can lead to worldly success.

Saturn in different zodiac signs in the seventh house

Exaltation: When Saturn is in the Libra sign and placed in the seventh house, it can bring power, wealth, and respect to the individual. People with this placement tend to be wise and have a mature and balanced attitude towards life. They are known to maintain strong relationships with their spouse, family, and loved ones. However, while they are focused and accomplished, they may struggle with self-centeredness and emotional sensitivity, which can impact their relationships.

Read Also :- 4th House

Debilitation: A debilitated Saturn in the seventh house is considered unfavourable in the Aries sign. It can make married life difficult for the person, who may feel burdened. It can also cause delays in marriage and may lead to marrying someone significantly older or younger.

Aries Ascendant: Saturn in the 7th House can bring a long life, a happy married life, wealth, and success after marriage.

Taurus Ascendant: Expect a lucky spouse. Business in petrol or oil can lead to immense wealth.

Gemini Ascendant: There can be arguments with the spouse, but affection remains. Love gets stronger after age 35.

Cancer Ascendant: Money problems may arise, but things get better after age 33.

Leo Ascendant: There will be a happy marriage, and the individual can engage in real estate.

Virgo Ascendant: One gets famous in fields like coal, teaching, iron, law and trade.

Libra Ascendant: Challenges in child-birth. Wealth and finances will be fine.

Scorpio Ascendant: Individual accumulates prosperity after marriage.

Sagittarius Ascendant: Chances of remarriage.

Capricorn Ascendant: Work as a teacher, lawyer, religious preacher, etc.

Aquarius Ascendant: Prosperity after 30 years of age.

Pisces Ascendant: Mature spouse showing trust.

General remedies for Saturn

Here are simple remedies for Saturn in the 7th House:

Help poor people with money.

Assist older or disabled people.

Teach poor children or help them with school fees.

Care for your elders.

Eat vegetarian food and avoid alcohol.

Always tell the truth and be honest.

Stay loyal to your partner and avoid flirting.

Help blind people when you can.

Don't harm trees or animals.

Be kind to everyone, especially those less fortunate.

Feed monkeys, cows, and dogs.

Pray to Lord Bhairava on Saturdays.

Feed black dogs regularly.

Source:-https://property-consultation.blogspot.com/2024/02/fourth-house-in-astrology.html

#astrology #Saturn in the 7th House #7th House #Importance of 7th House #Saturn in 7th House #4th House #cause delays in marriage #seventh house of horoscope

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astrosolutions · 10 months

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Jupiter in 7th House: The Impact on Marriage, Relationships, and Partnership

The placement of Jupiter in 7th house is a significant astrological factor that influences relationships, partnerships, and marriage. In astrology, Jupiter symbolizes expansion, growth, and wisdom, and its presence in the 7th house amplifies these qualities in the area of partnerships. People with Jupiter in the 7th house often seek harmonious and fulfilling relationships, where they can experience personal growth and spiritual development through their connections with others. This placement can bring about favorable circumstances for marriage, attracting a partner who embodies Jupiterian qualities such as generosity, optimism, and a sense of adventure. However, it is important to consider the overall birth chart for a comprehensive understanding of the individual's relationship dynamics.

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random-mdzs-thoughts-dumpster · 5 months

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people act like JGY telling QS that even if JRS wasn't killed he had to die means that he was responsible for his death is so weird because that's what makes me think he was not. Yes, he was gaslighting QS in that scene but he had already denied killing JRS, so why was it even necessary to say anything more? And if he was willing to say something that would without a doubt upset QS, why not just confess?

#I got the impression that he was planning to kill JRS very soon after birth #But once he actually saw him and held him he couldn't do it #So he kept delaying it for years and years #But then that sect leader killed him and he was actually devastated #So he used that thought as sort of a coping mechanism to deal with his grief #Because in his mind he should have been able to get over him because it was inevitable anyway #So he'd force himself to cope #And he used it as a misguided attempt to help QS #The same way he told her they had a good marriage and he always treated her right #I imagine that is the sort of thing he told himself to make peace with being married to his sister #And thought it would work on QS too #I realize I'm contradicting myself when I say he knew it would upset QS and he was trying to calm her down #But it's very ambiguous and I haven't decided which interpretation I like best

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moonshine-nightlight · 2 years

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Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Thirteen

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Chapter 13 - MoonshineNightlight - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six][Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight][Part Nine][Part Ten][Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] Part Thirteen [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You try to distract yourself by fussing with your hat, angling it so it best blocks the morning sun from your eyes. It’s too easy to resituate though and so your gaze is drawn back down the jousting lane where Dale waits at one end for his first jousting round of the tournament.

Already the archery competition had been held, in which Dale had competed last in deference to his recovering injuries. He claimed to be more than sufficiently healed from his wrestling with the boar and the doctor took full credit for this recovery. In the end, he’d placed in the top third of the competition and seemed pleased with that, archery never having been even former Dale’s particular passion or strong suit.

The martial tournament had three competitions: archery, jousting, and melee. Everyone competed in archery, which determined the tournament match-ups for jousting. The top four competitors in the jousting rounds then also fought with melee weapons in a champion tournament—although there were certain exceptions within jousting that could result in mounted swordplay, something you knew happened but had never understood what actually called for it. Heavy armor was worn for the jousting and then chainmail for the melee. Though no one is supposed to be aiming to kill, injuries are not uncommon. Despite protests to the contrary, plenty of knights bring grudges from outside the competition into it.

For the first round, every knight jousts against two different opponents, resulting in the elimination of anyone who was fully unseated or too injured to compete. People could also simply choose to no longer compete, but that came with a fee and a significant blow to one’s pride. Then a bracket is drawn up based upon how well each did as well as random lots drawn for those judged to be of equal skill. While no special consideration is given to Dale any further with regards to his injury, he has still ended up being one of the last few to tilt.

At first you had been grateful for the reprieve, but you find it's only given your nerves more time to grow sharper. You’ve never enjoyed jousting, never having been able to watch any of your family members or friends do it and barely able to tolerate watching strangers either. And now, with Dale’s condition, there is a whole range of new factors and considerations and chances for things to go wrong.

Not that he seems nervous, you think a bit impetuously. Dale is already mounted on his horse, a sturdy and beautiful black gelding. If the rumors about animals sensing demon possession are true, they evidently don’t apply to horses as Blacklock appears completely at ease with having a demon on his back. Right after Dale puts on his helm, a trumpet blast signals for the combatants to get into position for the first pass.

Dale’s horse walks over where he needs to go with barely any signal on Dale’s part, clearly used to this activity. Dale lowers his lance into position across his horse’s withers, the blunted tip seeming to sharpen the longer you contemplate it. With his helm on, you can’t read his face, but he seems confident enough in the high tilting saddle with the long lance in his hand. Has he done this before? You rather thought demons were particularly feral with their fighting and had little need for weapons, but who knows how many times he’s been on the Surface. You hope he has experience of his own, or at least can rely on Dale’s.

All you can do is watch as the flag lowers and they charge at one another. It happens both slowly and too fast as they brace and clash together. No one ends up on the ground and nothing breaks, but it's still clear that Dale’s opponent, Knight Catherine of Alry—recognizable to you only because her lands border your family’s—is the superior jouster. Dale hadn’t risen in time to strike well and had been knocked firmly back in his saddle hard enough you doubt its padding helped much. Her follow through was far more clean and confident than his own.

The next pass resulted in her lance breaking off and while Dale had improved his timing, his lance did not break. As such, it’s no surprise that she is awarded to win. Despite the loss, you feel only relief—no one has been injured, no particular mistakes were made, no demonic signs were obvious, and no unusual strength was notable.

You nearly jump out of your seat when a loud ‘harumph’ interrupts your thoughts. You turn to see one of Dale’s uncles—Wellington, who’d been on the hunt—frowning at the field. “Boy’s out of practice after all that time abroad,” he grumbles to Breighton on his other side. “After how he performed on the hunt, I was expecting more.”

While a small part of you wants to speak on Dale’s behalf, mostly this comment makes you want to breathe out in relief that no one suspects anything. Breighton rolls her eyes at her brother, “He did fine—didn’t even get unhorsed. You’re simply still sore over your loss to Alry in that race last year.”

Wellington scowls and Grandfather laughs, clapping his son on the shoulder from his spot in the row behind you. “That so?”

You take the opportunity to surreptitiously check how Grandfather seems to be reacting. He’s rather good at keeping up his usual attitude in public, but he’d been tense in the lead up to this part of the tournament. You hope he hadn’t noticed you’d been the same. He seems to have lost some of that tension, although not all of it. He catches your eye and you resist the urge to duck down and away—trying to think of how you would act if nothing was out of the ordinary. You smile politely, returning his look, before gazing back over to Wellington as he says, “That has nothing to do with this tournament nor Dale’s showing in it. He clearly kept up with his woodscraft and hunting, but obviously his jousting was neglected. That is all I was trying to say.”

Breighton continues to needle her brother, with Grandfather assisting, about whatever race he participated in against Alry while you finally feel that your stomach has settled enough to have something to eat. You help yourself to the platter the family has continually replenished, noting since Grandmother is the grand judge, Grandfather’s tastes are more obviously represented. As such, there’s more dark meat and generally a plainer array of offerings. You don’t mind the change, preferring such simpler fare when your stomach is still rather stirred up from stress.

Desiring something warm, you help yourself to the stew. Blowing on it lightly, you take a sip. Blinking in surprise, you notice that, unlike how you expected it to be, it is rather heavily seasoned. Primarily with rosemary and thyme you identify after another sip, the dish having been so heavily seasoned you needed extra time to identify the herbs.

In fact, your next mouthful causes you to cough a bit at the overpowering taste. Once you’re able to have a drink to help your throat and are reaching for a piece of bread to help with the strong flavor, you realize Grandfather’s eyes are on you. Abruptly, you recall rumors about both of those herbs supposedly helping to purify those tainted by demonic energies.

Resisting the urge to look to see if he actually is looking at you, you make the decision to finish off your bowl at least, no matter how heavily seasoned. You don’t want him to turn his suspicions to Dale himself, but you want to do your part in discouraging him from this line of thinking entirely. Also, there have definitely been meals since Dale’s incident that involved those herbs, so he’s obviously only trying very basic testing methods at this point, which makes you feel better.

You’d taken advantage of both Dale’s absence and Steward Bilmont’s knowledge of what had happened, to spend some time in Dale’s study and peruse some of his more illicit books on demonology with mild confidence of privacy. Most of them were too dense and theoretical for you to get much from, but yesterday night you found that Steward Bilmont had slipped one volume in particular into your rooms regarding possession and influence, including signs and symptoms.

You believe Dale had gone to great trouble to bring these tomes in, given Northridge’s heavy regulation of such materials, and hope Grandfather is having trouble getting his hands on similar books. You also hope that you’re not misplacing your faith in what Steward Bilmont reported regarding Breighton’s disbelief and how he believed Dale innocent of any such studies and therefore would not be searching his study. That did bring up the idea of him searching your chambers, which seems far too overt for him to attempt at this moment. Nevertheless you resolve to read quickly, taking shorthand notes only, and getting the volume back to Dale’s study as soon as possible.

It had a whole section on herbs and plants—identifying which were actually potentially useful in detecting demonic influences and which were mere myth. Most, you are grateful to remember, are not useful generally, let alone in their raw state. However, you didn’t have a lot of time to study that section yet and you make a note to do so once you retire for the evening, before Grandfather stumbles upon something that does more than result in overly seasoned soup.

You finish the stew slowly, with more bread than usual, but no other signs of discomfort as Dale’s next round comes up. This one goes far more favorably for him, even if primarily due to his opponent’s poor horsemanship rather than his own skill. At least no one can claim favoritism on behalf of the judges even if Grandmother is heading the panel—a pair of strong opera glasses to combat her usual sight challenges. Both of Dale’s matches have had obvious winners to be ruled in favor of and all other grandchild—two of his cousins competing as well—matches have been judged similarly.

The other judges are another of Dale’s uncles and a neighboring Lady. None of the heckling you’ve occasionally heard has started, although perhaps it's simply not late enough in the day for people to be drunk enough to do so. After each bout, they declared a winner after debating and considering each competitor's technique, horsemanship, skill, and strength. Grandfather and Wellington discuss each match on their own, likely mirroring the conversation being had on the other side of the field. Breighton chimes in as she pleases, though you are able to piece together she’s no interest in the lance and is instead holding out for the melee later on, or perhaps even with plans to join the fencing duels tomorrow.

There’s a pause while the tournament brackets are finalized, the remaining spots assigned, and the stew is thankfully taken away—you have no desire to eat anything with thyme in it for a week at least. Grandfather seems to have gotten caught up in the tournament atmosphere and has lost all tension—or perhaps that’s just the wine he’s been drinking.

Dale ends up one of the first rounds after the break and he wins the first two tilts easily. It's only the third, which hits at an interesting angle, that is at all ambiguous. You keep getting caught between relief as he continues to perform similarly to the others—humanely—while also nervous that he might be more likely to slip as he gets tired, though it's hard to tell how he’s holding up from the stands. When he’s not actively tilting, he’s out of sight with the other competitors and their squires—you hope he won’t slip out there either. Some part of you feels as if letting your guard down will cause something to go wrong and resists the urge to relax.

Dale’s next bout takes time to come about and you distract yourself from the tournament by talking with some of Dale’s cousins on your other side, who joined late having slept in—and who also luckily have no problem carrying the conversation with minimal input on your side.

This time, the first pass goes to his opponent when his shield splits neatly in two. Wellington scoffs, “He should have replaced his shield after his last round, Jellsum got lucky going after that hit from Voothkain.”

“I agree,” Grandfather says, echoing your thoughts, “however, there are still two more tilts. Dale can recover.”

Sure enough, Dale manages to nearly knock the knight from Jellsum off their horse next round and in their attempt to stay seated, they steer their horse into the barrier between lanes—practically guaranteeing their loss by the judges.

This time between matches you try to pay more attention to the others participating, the competition will be fiercer as only skilled opponents remain. Could one of them be strong or skilled enough to make Dale forget himself? Or perhaps it's the less skilled ones, getting by on the luck of their opponent’s horse getting frightened who might throw Dale off.

Either way, by the time Dale next tilts, the last one of the day and the round that determines who fights in the champions melee instead of the all around, you’re strung tight with tension once more. Seeing who he’ll be competing against does nothing to quell that feeling. The knight from Eastmount had made a few waves as the first person to unseat their opponent, particularly given his less than burly build. However, both Grandfather and Wellington had remarked that he’d done well in other tournaments recently and so weren’t terribly surprised. He’d shattered a lance nearly every tilt in this tournament and is one of the favorites to make it to the final four.

Dale lines up for his tilt, fresh lance in hand. You catch a glimpse of Eastmount’s face before he pulls his helm on, he certainly looks confident. Soon enough they charge down the lane at each other, lances lowered. Both connect with shields and break, cracking about a third off in length each, showing a similar amount of strength and precision from their wielders.

When they both retreat to their sides, you think you see Eastmount turn to say something to Dale, but it's impossible to say what. Dale is hard to read with his helm on, but his horse is a little clearer, prancing more than usual to offload some tension in his rider as he retrieved a new lance. Something about his demeanor seems more serious, more focused. Eastmount seems cocky still, adjusting his bejeweled gauntlets that glint in the sunlight, ostentatious enough for competition that one of Dale’s cousins remarks on them too.

The trumpet blast and thunderous sound of hooves brings your focus sharply back to the jousting lanes. They hurtle at each other with even more momentum, or so it seems to you, than before. Both their lances shattered in an explosion of wooden splinters. You blink at the sight, and upon remembering the tale of the man felled by one such splinter in his eye, immediately check Dale for signs of distress. To your relief, he seems to have no trouble guiding his horse, though he’s shaking out his hand from the impact.

For some reason that strikes you as odd. Perhaps Dale has gotten particularly good at playing his role, but you’re really not sure he would have thought to do such a thing. That means either it was a normal amount of pressure and he was simply surprised at what could affect humans or… Or that something else is going on here, that the impact was precisely as devastating as it seemed and even Dale, with whatever accordances he had still felt it significantly enough for him to, without thinking, flew his hand.

Still, it's not unheard for both lances to break with particularly strong opponents and they acquire their replacements, lining up for another tilt. This second tilt has the same prickling tension concentrates once more and you find yourself holding your breath as they meet and both lances shatter once more, drawing murmurs and raising your hackles.

Technically, despite the three passes already completed, the tilts have Dale and his opponent at a tie. As such, Grandmother orders a delay in the round while a new set of lances is procured and thoroughly inspected.

The other knight takes off his helm and motions for his squire. He’s a moderately built man with a large mustache that you think must get uncomfortable in the helm. He looks angrier than you expect, not frustrated or bewildered, but furious and, more importantly, trying to hide it. He keeps glaring impatiently at the squire dashing to him or Dale, as if he thinks what’s going on is their fault. He doesn’t look to the judge or to the man who made the lances—currently being questioned by the judge. He’s not checking any of his equipment, just—his squire finally joins him and he dismounts.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Dale’s done the same, but you keep your focus on the opposing knight. His horse is blocking him from view by your side of the arena, but there are dozens of highly polished and decorative shields all around the stands. You find the right one and watch as he seems to berate the squire, gesturing first at Dale and then brandishing his removed gauntlet in the man’s face.

The squire appears to be protesting, likely trying to explain whatever standstill these two are at isn’t his fault. But why would it be? How could it be? The furious knight jabs a finger at his horse, thrusts his gauntlets and shield into the squire's hands before stalking away. Tents fill the field near the jousting arena, one for each competitor to wait in, and he leaves likely to return to his own.

Instead of following the knight, you keep watch on the squire, noticing the way he runs his hands over the equipment in his hands, appearing to possibly be check the back of his shield, before running fingers over the saddle and possibly even the saddle blanket underneath? He only does so for a few seconds before he freezes, barking an order to stablehand. To your surprise, he gives the man who comes over the shield and gloves, not he reins for the horse and together the two hurry out of the arena.

Only a few seconds after watching them leave did you realize what else struck you as odd—the stablehand had been dressed as one, but did not look like one. He’s too clean and too pale. They are obviously up to something nefarious—some form of cheating that evidently was not working as expected, hence Eastmount’s anger.

Tuning back into the chatter around you, the twin shattered lances two rounds in a row is causing some talk to fly, but not much. From what you hear, no one in your immediate surroundings thinks anything in particular is happening, merely commenting on the amount of strength the two men must have. Impressive given neither are particularly large or muscular.

Of course, while Dale is managing his strength better, you know why he might have more strength than he appears to have. But it’s not as though this man likely also has the same condition. But perhaps, given his fixation on his tools at hand, Eastmount is using something to that effect. If he gets careless with such a thing, if either he pushes so hard Dale missteps or enough to reveal what he’s doing and Grandmother judges they must start testing the competitors…

You stand before you even realize you’ve made the decision to, making an excuse to Dale’s family around you about needing a private moment. Once back on the ground, instead of heading towards the outhouses, you picture the series of tents in your mind and try to deduce where Dale will be waiting to be called back. You aren’t sure if your information will would be at all helpful—he probably already knows what’s happening and who knows if he’ll believe you—but you can’t in good conscience continue to watch this without warning him.

You spot his squire and walk determinedly in that direction to relay what you know.

[Part Fourteen]

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avelera · 2 years

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I can probably post the next chapter of “Come live with me” in the next day or so because I sat down to write “Giving Sanctuary” yesterday, quickly jotted down the idea I had for the first paragraph of “Come live with me” before I started, then wrote 6,000 more words of it lol

#arranged marriage au dreamling #1689 fic #I AM SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON GIVING SANCTUARY just need to sit down with it properly

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reyesstrand · 1 year

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Okay but that money anon may be on to something lol

i mean (family) money/a prenup/ definitely could tie to his past/be something set up by tim and the writers back in season one, because we see him with the camaro, a very nice townhouse with one person’s salary for rent, lots of antiques/little knick-knacks/art, he doesn’t question having to own the loft as opposed to renting again, etc etc etc so it wouldn’t be that out there!! it would also be nice to tie it to something that caused issues with them in the past (the loft) to show how they’ve grown and is a very real-life stresser between couples.

i also still think it could tie to iris somehow. if andrea did know of the blakes through carlos, and if carlos offered to help her with something long term (i.e look into something disturbing/creepy as both a cop and friend) because he’s the only one who believes her, i think carlos would tell her. say he thinks he’ll have time for that and wedding planning because they have at least a year and a half until their dream venue is available until—wait! they’re open and available in eight weeks and suddenly carlos is torn between helping an old friend who he couldn’t help before or giving tk his absolute dream wedding….what does he choose? and this could lead into worried tk when he does eventually help iris, and could be what tk is saying “i love you” about—he loves carlos (like andrea jokes about in the clip) and doesn’t care about having the most lavish wedding. it’ll also help them have an in-universe reason for the wedding being pushed to the second half of the season (presumably) that also ties into carlos’ big storyline we’re aware of re: work and o’brien and getting hurt.

#i could be completely wrong ofc but SOMETHING like this makes sense. it wouldn’t possibly end their relationship like a secret marriage #rather it would just….delay it for a little while. and would allow for them to still be all in love in those other stills in later eps #*it being the wedding #answered #anonymous

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subir-astrologer · 9 months

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MARRIAGE DELAY DUE TO OUR FREE WILL

Yes marriage can be delayed due to our own free will. One need to understand that by mere prediction of an astrologer does not guarantee of a marriage event to happen during period of time IF THE NATIVE DO NOT WANT TO ACTIVATE THE EVENT.

In some cases where there is difficulties in marriage, it is said that the native should not sit with a check list to find if all the nature and qualities in their would be spouse are as per their desire.

It is said that they should compromise with some of the quality or nature which would give less pain / difficult / sadness in adjusting with their would be spouse.

The horoscope which signify difficulties in marriage means the God Vidhata ( god of destiny ) wants the native to have adjustment in his / her marriage.( please don’t ask WHY ha ha ha . . . . past life karma )

There are two way of adjustments

Marry with a person compromising some desired qualities which is bearable / adjustable and will cause less pain / sadness in correct time of marriage age.

2. Delay the marriage to get a perfect spouse as per native’s desire. Many people does the mistake of delay too much and later on face difficulties of older age to get a spouse.

I DONOT SAY DELAY IS WRONG METHOD TO GET DESIRED SPOUSE. NO NO NO, PLEASE DON’T MISUNDERSTAND ME. IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE PREDICTION OF THE ASTROLOGER. IF THE ASTROLOGER FINDS THAT THE NATIVE HAS TO MAKE ADJUSTMENT IN HIS / HER MARRIAGE THEN HE / SHE HAS TO DO IT, BE IT IN EARLY MARRIAGE OR DELAYED MARRIAGE.

An astrologer predicts a favorable date for marriage and that does not mean that it will happen automatically without one’s or family’s or someone’s effort.

There is a misunderstand that once an astrologer predicts a date of marriage then it will happen automatically. They feels that proposal will starts flowing as predictions is made and the to get married party does no efforts.

There are also fortunate people who gets proposals during that period of time, let not take that as an example. Let’s stick to understanding of astrology in deep.

For an event to happen in life, activation of it is very important and it can happen only when an action is taken in that direction. AN INTERESTING QUESTION ARISE IS WHAT HAPPENS ON THE PREDICTED DATE OF MARRIAGE EVENT WHICH DID NOT TAKE OFF ?

The other signification signified by the 7th house of that horoscope happens during that period of time. It will vary from horoscope to horoscope.

LETS SEE SOME OF THE 7TH HOUSE AFFAIRS Everything related to marriage is governed by this house. Your sense of attraction to opposite sex, desire to have a partner, need to commit, sexual fantasies, passion, possessiveness, and level of understanding are all governed by the position of planets in seventh house.

This house also relates to your ability to have children. Seventh house also relates to problems and disinterest in carnal fulfillment, illnesses of reproductive system, impotence and progeny problems. The reason why you indulge in a partnership is also apparent in the seventh house. Is it for love? Money? Social pressure? Practical reasons? Or to fill the void in your life?

The sense of cooperation and purpose is important to the seventh house. By cooperating and adjusting, we seek to realize our purpose, accomplish something like happiness, success, profit, and satisfaction.

All sorts of partnerships come under the domain of seventh house, not just marriage. These include business partnerships, relationship with clients, contracts, negotiations, agreements and so on.

The kind of relationship you share with your co-founder is governed by this house, who gets a bigger slice in profit is also ruled by 7th house in Vedic Astrology.

Your relationship with everyone you enter into a contract with is also governed by seventh house in horoscope. Whether all these partnerships enrich your lives or cause your downfall is also assessed by the planetary position in the seventh house.

Seventh house also deals with the darker side of our relationships, the partnerships we form. Legal battles, divorce, quarrels, enmity, and fines also fall under the domain of this house.

Your reaction to these adversities influence your relationship with the person and on a more global level in mundane astrology, it can lead to wars.

In Mundane astrology, seventh house controls matters related to treaties, alliances with other countries, foreign affairs, law, international conflicts, foreign trade etc.

In a nutshell one need to understand the prediction given by an astrologer and act accordingly to get success.

I do no mean that one should get marry in hurry to any Tom, Dick or Harry, No no absolutely NO.

Aligning our self with the horoscope is very much important to get out event work on our favor. One need to try and understand that. Now what is alignment ? Good question . . . . Search my articles on alignment and read to know. . . . Ha ha ha ha . . . . . now you are shouting link link link . . . . .

#delay marriage astrology #late marriage astrology #astrology #vedic astrology #vedic astrologer #horoscope readings #horoscope posts #horoscope analysis #astrologer #horoscopes #dailyhoroscope #vedic astrology notes

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