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legolaslovely · 4 years

Text

One Love

A/N: The long awaited Kili Ones story! (For me anyway, I have had this idea in my head for WEEKS and it’s finally here!) This story is an AU that revolves around all dwarves being paired One to One, which as @dreams-of-wander has taught me, is not canon. Thank you so much to @dreams-of-wander , @nerdbirdsworld and @patchworkideas for helping me immensely with this story. <3

Pairing: Kili x Human!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,770

Warnings: Post Battle of the Five Armies, Everybody Lives AU, One to One AU (see author’s note above), drinking/alcohol, comfort, love confessions, angst that ends in fluff DUH

Summary: (Y/N) and Kili met during the quest for Erebor. Long after the mountain is reclaimed, they are brought together again and Kili learns some things are not as easy as fate seems to make them.

This is by far my favorite picture of him look at his EARS <3

Blessed years had passed since Erebor was reclaimed by its rightful king. The realm was painstakingly restored to its former glory and the carnage and destruction forgotten by all who had seen it. Each loss was remembered and celebrated, but none were commemorated like those of Thorin Oakenshield’s company- saviors and warriors of the Lonely Mountain. They were believed to be the most courageous and wise champions in all Arda. However, some nights, they were simple and brash beings who indulged in far too much food, ale, and amusement.

The Grand Hall had often held scores of bodies, but never as much noise as that which came from thirteen dwarves and one rather quiet human. Deep and shrill voices like dragon fire, twisted and flew out the closed doors and down the corridors as one almost unbearable wave of sound. Guards at their post sometimes confused strange guffaws with shrieks of pain, popping their heads into the Hall to check on their King. But all inside were always safe, despite the tall tales that led to arguments with corrections, and imaginary details that led to more bellowing laughter and table slamming.

By the time the sun had set, five fresh casks had been dripped dry by the rosy cheeked companions. Dwalin respectfully drank the share of those missing: one small but hungry hobbit and one very large and thirsty wizard. It was his voice presently booming and slapping the ears of those around him.

“I was the first one. Me! First in the house, waiting hours fer another one of ye bastards to show up!”

“That’s not true, brother,” Balin said. “I was the first one. I remember dear ol’ Bilbo showed me ‘is shelves a cheese-”

“’Twas me!” Dwalin yelled. “It was hours before any a ye arrived.” His hand swung as he spoke, sending his empty mug falling and rolling across the table.

Kíli stood, reaching for the mug, but (Y/N) pushed him down. She had been sitting next to him, snickering by his side at the crude jokes and untrue details of the many stories that had been shared. She stood, slipping around Kíli’s chair and taking Dwalin’s empty mug.

“Thank ye, lass. Yer too good, too good. I was the first! I swear on me Ma’s beard.”

“Don’t ye swear on my Ma’s beard when yer lyin’!” Balin said, hurrying to swallow his sip of ale.

(Y/N)’s eyes could have rolled out of her head. The pair were two of the most intelligent dwarves she’d met. However, if either got a lick of ale, this is the argument they’d bring back to life, though all around wished they’d leave it dead in the ground. The worst of it was that only Bilbo had the answer, but the hobbit was hundreds of leagues away in the Shire, safe in his armchair or at his desk with his book.

That thought warmed (Y/N) more than the ale did, but she continued filling Dwalin’s mug at the cask. She filled another for Balin just in case, not wanting to be the center of yet another teasing quarrel between the brothers.

Their mother’s beard was still the topic of conversation when she set the mugs down on the table. She sidestepped quickly, missing Balin’s flailing arm, but she wasn’t quick enough to escape Dwalin.

“(Y/N), do ye know what a ‘One’ is, lass?” he asked, gripping her hand.

“Sort of,” she said.

“Well, me dear,” he said, stumbling to stand. His chair fell to the ground with a crack as he dropped to a knee. “Yer mine.”

A chorus of laughs and slaps sounded but Kíli’s “What?” practically echoed in the hall.

Dwalin continued. “Yer the one human I haven’t wanted to throttle as soon as ye opened yer mouth!” He patted her hand and gave her a soft shove back to her seat.

“I’m honored,” she said, taking a long draft from her own mug. She gave Kíli a look with wide eyes rolling, and shrunk into her seat at the new attention she was being paid by the table. “So, who was it that arrived first?” she asked, sending a wink to her side.

“Me!”

“I was!”

Kíli remembered the night in the Shire fairly well. He couldn’t tell anyone who had arrived first or last, or what kind of cheese Bilbo had stuffed in his shelves. However, he could very clearly recall the first time he’d seen the surprise human Gandalf had brought. She was tall and quiet, but not at all nervous of the dwarves who glared at her and spat questions. Peculiarly beautiful. Kíli could paint her exact appearance from memory.

Though her personality had bloomed in front of him since that night, (Y/N) was still obviously entertained by the dwarves. Kíli watched her hide chuckles behind her mug of ale, rarely taking a sip that would leave her lips shining. She sent him sideways smirks and smiles when the company stumbled across their inside jokes or fondest memories. Equally as often, she turned to Fíli, patting his arm or laughing at his quiet eye rolls and head shakes.

Then she left him. She flew across the room, quick and steady as an arrow shot from a bow, to save Ori from being flattened by racks of cheap ale.

“Wait, Ori,” she said, “let me do that.” She took the cumbersome, empty cask from him and set it back on the stillage with a grunt.

“I wannanother drink,” he said with a scowl.

A chuckle escaped her. “We need a new cask first. Sit down and I’ll bring you a mug, hm?”

“Jus’ one more,” he said. His puss was starting to lift, turning to a blush at a woman’s attention.

She set a hand on his shoulder. “All right.”

The thunk of wood on wood sounded behind them. Kíli had easily replaced the empty cask with a new one. “Go sit, Ori. We’ll bring it to ya.”

Ori turned to (Y/N), chin falling, swearing a silent oath. Then he turned and waddled back to his seat, accepting a hand from Bofur instead of falling and hurdling to the ground. (Y/N) slapped Kíli’s arm as he snickered and screwed the spigot into the cask.

“Should we really give him another?” she asked.

Kíli shrugged. “Dwalin’ll walk him to his chambers later. Let him have his fun.” While her head was turned and he was allowed to look, Kíli admired the curve of her cheek as she smiled, her slim fingers around the mug handle. She’d almost caught him staring. “What do you know about Ones?” he asked.

“A One is like a soulmate, if I’ve eavesdropped correctly,” she said with a wink. She moved Kíli’s distracted hand and slapped the spigot with the heel of her palm, catching the flow of ale with Ori’s mug. “You dwarves only love once and everybody has a ‘One.’ Is that right?”

Kíli hummed.

She leaned against the stillage, hip out with one foot crossed over the other. If she’d learned anything from the dwarves, it was the easy posture she was exhibiting. She was stiff and tall as a board when they’d first met.

“It must be a comfort to know someone is out there especially for you,” she said. “Us humans, we just wander around blind, lucky if we ever run into anyone good.”

“You don’t believe in Ones?” he asked.

Her face scrunched like she’d been caught rummaging through a farmer’s fields. “I believe you when you say you have a One. But I don’t think I have a soulmate. I guess humans just have to do it the hard way. Meet the right person and let something grow. Takes a long time.”

“You and I have known each other a long time.”

Ori gave out a slurred call for his ale that shattered any hold Kíli may have thought he had on her. He took her hand as she turned, trying to preserve the moment.

“Come take a walk with me,” he said.

She delivered Ori’s drink, waved at Fíli, ignoring his scowl of abandonment, and followed Kíli out of the Grand Hall. By the time she’d closed the heavy doors behind her, the guards were already disappearing around the corner to leave her and Kíli alone in the cool corridor.

“Sick of the old stories?” she asked.

“No,” he laughed. “They remind me of the night we met.”

She stuck up a hand. “Please, spare me! Tell me any story but that one. Dwalin loves to tell me what you all thought of ‘Gandalf’s human spy.’”

Kíli crossed the corridor to stand next to her- closer- and leaned back on the rough stone. “Not everyone thought that.”

“I know. I remember you were the first one to smile at me that night.”

“Because I knew you were special.”

She breathed out a laugh, a little hum, and Kíli enjoyed the grin that spread across her face. “Is that what you dragged me out here to say?”

“Yes and no.”

She turned to him and he wished he would have drank some ale tonight. Something for the courage to ignore her burning beauty, her quick laugh, the intelligence radiating from her and sharp wit telling her that he was stalling.

“This conversation is long overdue,” he said. “But it’s something rather difficult to just bring up, though apparently, Dwalin has no problem with the subject.”

“Which subject is that?”

“Ones.”

“Oh-”

“You’re mine,” he said. “You’re my One.” He could have broken the news better, he could see that clear in her astonished expression.

“Me? But that’s... not possible. How do you know?”

He took her hand, encasing it between both of his, treasuring her closeness. “Trust me. I know. I have never felt this kind of attachment, this pull to anyone.”

She smiled, but her head was shaking. No. “What you’re feeling is camaraderie. This closeness between humans and dwarves is not common, so it’s no wonder we all feel differently when we’re together.”

“That’s not it,” he said. “I have been waiting for this feeling my entire life and I’ve found it only in you. I know it’s hard for you to understand-”

“That our creators- Aulë and-and- that they made us for each other?” She slid her hand from his grasp. “How could that be? We come from such different worlds. If Gandalf and I had never met, I wouldn’t have come on the quest and you and I? Our paths would never have crossed! How cruel would the fates be then? Is this some big joke to-to whoever it is who makes these rules?”

His temper- agony and desperation both- rumbled and rolled and he watched her cower at the raging fire behind his eyes. “How could you say that? This is not a joke! You know how important this is. You know exactly what this means to a dwarf, what it means to me!”

“Of course. I didn’t mean it like that-”

“How could you ever think I would joke about something like this? Do you really think me that insensitive?”

“No!” She grabbed at him and he permitted her hold, but she shrank from his shadowed face. “Kíli, I’m sorry. Please, I just- there’s so much of this I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand? I love you! More than I have ever loved anyone. Can you tell me that you feel the same way?”

She said nothing.

“I see.” He jerked from her grasp and vanished down the winding corridors.

***

Even as she stood completely alone, she could feel Kíli’s presence beside her- his frantic yet passionate persuasion trying to breach impenetrable fear. He’d left her there in the corridors to listen to his words repeating in her head- how she should have understood, how she made him feel alone. His words, however harsh, were honest, and his gaze so intense, they permeated her temperate thoughts and left them broken like ice shards. She hadn’t managed a sole word when he needed it most. And those she had spoken tore their relationship like precious silk.

She had single handedly sucked the joy from the brightest creature she’d ever known.

The doors of the Grand Hall creaked open, letting a breeze of hearty laughter and ale breath wisp through the corridor. A blond head peeked out and it didn’t take long for Fíli to slide through the doors and then down the wall to sit next to (Y/N). His hand squeezed her knee.

“You know his temper,” Fíli said. “He’ll return when he’s calm.”

She hummed. The company witnessed all of Kíli’s explosive arguments with his uncle during those long months on the quest of Erebor. He’d defend the group’s human or the kingdom’s heir and that low, smooth voice of his would grow sharp and tortured. But no matter what opinions were thrown and no matter how quickly he stormed off, Kíli would always return with a cool head. (Y/N) often wished the first part could be skipped.

“Every ounce of patience in the Durin line was designated to you, it seems.”

He chuckled. “When you meet our mother, you’ll see how true that statement really is.”

She smiled. The movement pushed a tear to slide down her cheek that was immediately wiped away. She’d heard countless stories about Dis. A strong dam to be surrounded by detonating, angry dwarrows all her life. One was born with that kind of strength, it wasn’t something learned.

“There’s so much I don’t understand,” she said. “The only reason I know barely anything about Ones is because Bofur likes to chat when he drinks. Now Kíli’s off who knows where because I didn’t know how to react. I really hurt him.”

Fíli’s stubby fingers wrapped around hers to stop their mindless wringing. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I did the worst thing I could have ever done. I hurt him, Fíli. You should have seen the way he looked at me before he left.” Words, air, tears- they all stuck in her throat for a moment. She squeezed Fíli’s hand and whispered. “I said something I shouldn’t have. I don’t know how we’ll move on from this.”

“He’ll forgive you.” Fíli ignored her as she shook her head again. “He will. And if anyone deserves Kíli’s forgiveness, it’s you. No one can blame you for feeling shocked.”

“Couldn’t he be wrong? How do you know someone is your One?”

She watched him think. Thick hair, round eyes, wide nose, neat braids. Dwarves weren’t very different from humans, she thought. Or maybe she’d spent so much time with the company that she didn’t notice most of the physical distinctions anymore. Their heart and passion, however, those things never escaped her attention. Especially Kíli’s.

“I haven’t met my One, so I don’t know what it feels like,” Fíli said. “They say it’s like trying to describe the sun’s warmth on a chill day. It’s just something a dwarf inherently knows.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she said. She listened for footsteps but she and Fíli were alone in the corridor. “Has Kíli said anything about it?”

Fíli could barely hear her ask the question. “He said it was overwhelming- that you were almost too much to bear. We were starting this journey, leaving home and sprinting straight into a dragon’s mouth. All he focused on until that night was controlling his fear and anxieties, on keeping himself and me safe for Ma. Then he saw you and everything around him and inside him went from raging, stabbing fire to soothing waves of peace. You were his ‘calm and comfort and safety,’ he said. Everything was right when you walked into the room.”

“He said that? When?”

Fíli shifted on the floor. “The night we met in the Shire.”

“He knew immediately? Is that common? Is that a dwarf thing?”

“No,” he grinned. “It’s a Kíli thing.”

They sat knee to knee on the cold floor and Fíli answered all of her questions, starting with her prominent “Couldn’t he have picked someone easier?”

“He doesn’t pick, (Y/N). Ones are created as halves of the other. You were made for each other.”

Fíli found fun in explaining the innermost concepts of Ones, enjoying her wide eyes, embittered sighs, and impatient questions. Kíli was the same way when their mother told them both about her and their father and Fíli silently reveled in that knowledge.

The two close friends bonded impossibly further over their shared interest: Kíli. They both laughed- tension, jitters and tears bouncing off the stone around them and echoing throughout the corridors. She listened eagerly to the particulars of dwarvish traditions and customs, often asking for more details. She eventually let her feelings slip.

“His One should be a dwarf. He shouldn’t have to explain rituals and customs and soulmates, he should just enjoy them.”

“He would appreciate sharing these things with you, teaching you about them,” Fíli said.

She hummed. “But he deserves something better. Something easier.”

“You speak like you don’t mind your part in this,” Fíli said.

Roaring and table slapping sounded from the Great Hall as if the very proposition was so preposterous. The company was continuing their celebration while its three youngest members debated the rest of their lives.

She sighed, the breath shaking and Fíli knew any hope of jest was gone. “Fíli, if I’m lucky, I might live another-”

“Don’t.”

She took his hands and squeezed. “I could live another forty years. He will live another hundred and forty. It would leave him alone for so long... It can’t be me.”

Fíli took her face in his hands, catching the streaming tears that poured down her cheeks like silent rain. Thumbs like boats swept them away, but they kept coming. He tried to look at her as if that exact thought hadn’t been plaguing his mind since Kíli told him the truth. “Don’t think of that.”

“It can’t be me.”

“Look at me.” He waited for her to open her eyes- devastated and dripping, but calm. “Kíli would not want two hundred years with someone else. He’d take a single day if he could call you his for those hours. He loves you.”

***

By the time Kíli’s scraping boots sounded in the corridor, all three heads were calm. As Kíli’s slumped shoulders made their way to them, Fíli squeezed (Y/N)’s hand and slid back into the Grand Hall where the raucous never ceased.

Kíli fell to his knees before (Y/N) could stand. Dark brows hid even darker eyes, things that were usually bright, beautiful and warm. He took her hand and apologized. “I should have never treated you so harshly and it was cruel of me to storm off like that and leave you here alone.”

“No, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I know.”

Her gaze fell to her lap. Two large hands were wrapped around hers again as if in their rightful place. “Kíli,” she said. “I know that I hurt you and for that I am truly sorry.”

“(Y/N).” He lifted her chin. Every angled feature had gone soft before her. “There is nothing for you to apologize for.”

She nodded. “I just needed some time to understand what this all means.”

“And I should have given it to you. You can have all the time you need. And if you want to go back to Gondor, continue living there, I understand-”

“No.” She shifted, rising to her knees and inching closer. She held his face. “Kíli, I will not abandon you. I won’t leave you without... a piece of you.” She looped his waving hair behind his ear- big and pointed- and grinned.

“Now is not the time to be making fun of my ears again, (Y/N).”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He hummed, a warning. Then his features lifted as thick fingers wrapped around her wrist, bringing her hand into his again. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wanted us to have a calm, positive, and I hoped even romantic moment and I completely failed.”

“Not completely.” The way he was looking at her, taking her in, couldn’t be classified as anything but romantic. “All that matters is that you told me. But are you sure I’m-”

“You’re it for me, (Y/N). There’s no question.”

She would have dragged her hand away, created space between them, but she could still see the pain her previous distance had caused. “Just tell me, am I taking you away from someone else? Isn’t there another woman- dam- out there who is waiting for you? You’re her One?”

“No,” he said, vigorous head shaking freeing his messy locks. The smallest smile. “No. It doesn’t work that way. Dwarves are paired. Since you’re my One, that means there is no other dwarf for me. Only you.”

Her soft, “Oh,” made him panic.

He inched backwards on his knees. “No, I didn’t mean to- I should have worded that better.” He sighed, ridding himself of his incessant, jittery thoughts. “(Y/N), I know you don’t feel for me as I do for you-”

“That’s not true. Kíli, I love you very much, it’s just-”

His strong fingers strangled her hand. “You do?”

Every bit of her restraint left her with her chuckle. “Of course I do. How could anyone not love you?”

He didn’t give her time to admire the bright smile her confession caused. He immediately brought her into a dwarf’s embrace, resting his forehead against hers, sharing the same air, the same content hums, the same moment in time.

“But Kíli,” she said. He heard the nerves there. “This isn’t going to be easy. You’ll have to teach me so much and-”

“We’ll learn together.” He kissed her- a kiss he could live on forever- and pulled her into his arms right there on the floor. He immensely enjoyed this human way of embracing as well, he thought.

He held her close, arms tightly wrapped, fingers twirling hair, comfortable in the silence until she laughed so loud it startled him.

“What is it?”

“You didn’t hear that?” She asked, turning to him. “They’re still going on about who arrived at Bag End first!”

“I guess I was too distracted,” he said.

She grinned, took his face in her hands and kissed him. Then they both agreed not to go back into the Grand Hall until one of the pestering brothers left for the night.

“Fíli’s smart enough to save himself.”

***

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glimmerglanger · 4 years

Note

17. Anakin/Ben LRPD (Anaaaakinnnnnnnnnnnnnn)

AHA I also thought of Anakin for 17 ( “Ugh, why did I eat that?”) for the meme. You know, I really intended for this to be a light and fluffy piece about Anakin eating bugs (ANAKIN). But uh. That wasn’t... how the muse took me? A mediation on how maybe some things happen to Anakin in both canon and all my AUs. I also didn’t expect this to be this long, but here we are!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ugh, why did I eat that?” Anakin’s mouth tasted like something had crawled inside it and died, and that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that the nutribar had stuck to his teeth and he could still feel it. In a life spent eating foods that were strange and often of poor quality, he was no stranger to bad tastes, but this was a special type of disgusting, and he grimaced.

“I don’t know,” Ben said, casting him a look out of the corner of his eyes, before returning his attention to the crack in the hull of the older cargo ship where they’d taken cover. “I told you not to.”

“You did,” Anakin agreed, dropping the rest of the nutribar on the ground and wiping his hand on the floor. He should have known better than to eat something that had been covered in a foot of sand and that had - in all likelihood - been sitting in this ship since it went down. That could have been decades ago, based on the ship’s model. “How’s it looking?”

“Mm, I think they’re waiting for all their friends to show up.” Ben shifted back, handing their set of macrobinoculars over. Anakin leaned over very cautiously and peered out, scowling at the figures silhouetted against the sun on the far hill.

“They have to know it’s just the two of us in here,” he grumbled, sitting back with a frown. His stomach grumbled again, reminding him that he had tried the nutribar for a reason, after all. It had been too long since either of them bolted down a meal, or even a few bites of sustenance. “You’d think they’d feel confident enough with a dozen men.”

“A pity they’re not that stupid,” Ben said, a grin turning up the corners of his mouth.

“We should go out there.” Ducking into the ancient ship had seemed like a good idea at the time. But that had been hours ago, and it had started to get incredibly hot while they waited for their friends outside to gather enough courage to charge in.

Ben shook his head. “Not with your leg,” he said, barely sparring it a look. He’d dragged Anakin the last stretch across the hard rock, after the mine took him by surprise. He’d tied a tourniquet around Anakin’s thigh with calm, sure fingers, and not commented at all on the ruin below Anakin’s knee.

“My leg is going to be the least of our worries, soon,” Anakin said. The pain was starting to creep back up his body, but they were running almost as low on medical supplies as they were on food. He could wait for it to get worse before he asked for another shot to push the agony away.

Until then, he purposefully ignored it, thinking about the people outside and the horrific nutribar. Anything to stop from considering the damage done to his limb, the words neither one of them were saying about the odds that it could be saved.

Those odds got slimmer, each moment they were trapped in the old ship.

He didn’t mention, either, the dizziness in his head, or the fact that he was beginning to feel cold all over. It wouldn’t help matters. Ben needed to keep his focus on what was going on outside, on their friends there on the hill.

“You should rest,” Ben said, quietly, reaching out and resting a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin felt the push of the Force in the words, but couldn’t spare the energy to be irritated. He closed his eyes. He slept.

“Here.” Ben’s voice woke him, along with a soft touch against the side of his face. Anakin blinked his eyes open. His head felt full of clouds. He was incredibly cold, despite the sweat he could feel running down his back. “Drink this.”

He drank without thinking when Ben pressed something against his bottom lip. A bottle. It was full of water; warm, and tasting of some contaminant or the other. He swallowed it greedily anyway, until Ben said, “Sh, sh, that’s enough.”

Anakin coughed, when Ben took the container away. He blinked, working to focus on Ben, who swam in and out of his vision. There was a smear of something dark and wet across Ben’s forehead. Anakin asked, “Where’d…?”

“They’ve set up a camp,” Ben said, taking off his tunic and draping it over Anakin, tucking it in as best he could. “They had sentries out.”

Anakin was pretty sure that didn’t answer his question. He stared at Ben, mind belatedly identifying that smear across his skin as blood. “But the water…?”

“Came from the sentries, yes.” Ben shifted back, reaching for something on the floor. “They weren’t smart enough to consider that I might sneak up on them in the dark. They had some rations, too. I’ve brought you something to eat.”

Anakin shook his head, his stomach roiling at the thought. “Not hungry,” he rasped.

“Anakin,” Ben said, shifting closer, and then his voice was rising in urgency, his hands were on Anakin’s skin, the world was sideways. Anakin blinked up at him, tried to think of something to say, and passed back into blackness.

Anakin woke up next and coughed, his mouth full, unexpectedly, of something that tasted like broth. He was on his back, his head elevated, and hands turned him. Ben said, quietly, ragged, “Force, Force, you’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” Anakin confirmed, when he no longer felt like he was choking. He slumped back. Ben was holding him, he realized, an arm under his shoulders. They weren’t in the ship anymore. There was stone behind Ben’s head.

Anakin blinked, slowly adjusting to the idea that they were in a cave and he had no idea how they’d gotten there. Ben looked… like he wasn’t in any shape to discuss it. There were dark circles under his eyes and a cut across one brow. “You need to drink more,” he said, and Anakin nodded, and put in an effort.

It left him breathing hard, just the act of drinking the impossible broth. He asked, when the cup was empty, and Ben slouched back against the wall, holding Anakin against his chest, “Where are we?”

“In a cave system I found,” Ben said, bringing his other arm up, cupping the side of Anakin’s head.

Anakin nodded against his chest. His blacks were gone, Anakin realized, vaguely, listening to his heart beat. “But our friends outside the ship…?”

“Don’t worry about them,” Ben said, heart thundering under Anakin’s ear, beating too fast. He heard it when Ben swallowed. “I got you out. And I think I managed to get the emergency comm beacon working, too, so. So someone might come looking for us.”

Anakin processed that. It would be nice, he thought, if someone were to come looking for them. “I feel better,” he said, startled to find it was true. He still felt weak, terribly weak, but some of the fog in his mind had disappeared. He wasn’t as cold anymore, didn’t feel like shaking apart. And his leg didn’t…

“Good,” Ben said, voice choked, “good, Anakin, I’m glad.”

“Why do I feel better?” he shifted. Ben felt distraught, upset in a way that always reached right into Anakin’s chest. He shifted a bit, but felt too weak to go anywhere, really. Besides, the beating of Ben’s heart was lulling some part of his brain, dragging him back towards unconsciousness.

“You had an infection,” Ben said, breath hitching, full of anguish and something like horror.

Anakin stared at his skin, at the way his shoulders were shaking, just a little. “In my leg,” he said, carefully, thinking things through slowly, as though if he tried to move too quickly, it would send him back to dreams. “The wounds were infected.” Ben jerked out a nod. “And you found medicine?”

Ben said nothing, not for a long moment, before he rasped, “No, Anakin, I’m sorry. I didn’t.”

Anakin found the strength to lift his head away from Ben’s skin, to straighten his back, the lack of pain from his leg finally fully registering as he looked down his body. He’d lost a limb before. He remembered losing his hand, remembered it in horrifying detail.

He stared, breath frozen in the middle of his chest, and said, numbly, “Oh.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ben repeated, agony in his feelings, “I should have found a way to get you out of there sooner. I should have--”

Anakin groped a hand out without looking, touching Ben’s shoulder, orientating himself. He turned, slumping down against Ben, an arm around his neck. He didn’t want or need Ben’s apologies. It wasn’t Ben’s fault they were here. None of this was Ben’s idea. He’d just… followed Anakin, into this entire mad campaign.

All Anakin wanted to do was press his face against Ben’s skin and breathe there, pretend the last few days - he had no idea how long he’d been out - had ever happened. Ben wrapped both arms around Anakin’s back, fingers clenched in his robes, and, at least Anakin knew now where the smell of lightsaber char had come from.

“It’s alright, Ben,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut, hating the horror he felt from Ben, the pain, the agony. He meant to say more, but his reserves were so limited. He fell back into glorious blackness with a feeling of relief.

The next time Anakin woke, he rasped, “I’m thirsty.” He was hungry, too, for the first time in a long time. The air felt cool on his skin and he cracked his eyes open, expecting the cave and getting, instead, the clean likes of a ship.

“Here you go,” a familiar voice said, and it wasn’t Ben. He jerked all the way to wakefulness, sitting up as Ahsoka sat on the side of his bed, holding out a glass of water. He stared at her for a moment, until she nudged the glass against his shoulder.

He took it, carefully, and raised it to his lips, drank it down, before he finally said, “Snips.”

She smiled at him, softly. She looked different, almost grown these days. Her cheeks had gotten sharper, her montrals taller. Her lekku fell almost to her elbows. She said, her voice changed, too, as she grew out of childhood, “Skyguy.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, because that seemed to be the biggest question. “Where is here? And where’s Ben?”

“He’s right there,” she said, gesturing to the side. Ben he found on the next bed over, hooked up to nearly as many machines as Anakin appeared to be. “Neither one of you were in great shape when we found you. And this is… my ship. I guess. And we’re here to rescue you, of course.” Her expression shifted to the side, darkening. “I’m sorry we didn’t make it sooner. Before…”

Her hesitation brought back memories Anakin’s mind had temporarily shut away. He shifted, pulling at the blankets they’d put over him, gazing down with a cool feeling of shock spreading through his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she said again.

Anakin reached out, ran his hand down what was left of his thigh, shuddering a bit. He said, feeling far away and distant, “Looks like he did a pretty good job keeping it even.”

“Master,” she said, quietly, reaching out and touching his arm, “if he hadn’t--”

“I know.” Anakin looked up at her, tried to smile and didn’t quite manage it. “The infection. I know.”

She stared at him, head cocked to the side a bit, as though expecting him to rage. He’d taught her to expect that, he figured. It was his own fault that she was holding herself cautiously. He looked away again, cleared his throat. “Guess I’ll be heading back to the Core for a while. Maybe you could give us a lift?”

“Sure thing,” she said, standing and hesitating, for a moment, before she bent to press a brief kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll lay in a course.”

Anakin waited until she left, until the doors closed, and then pulled the blankets the rest of the way off. He poured himself another glass of water and drank. There were tubes in his arms, hooked up to a nutrient solution. He carefully pulled the solution off of it’s hook, and then stood, balancing with the help of the Force.

It wasn’t far, thankfully, to Ben’s bed. Less than a step, really. Anakin re-hung the nutrient solution and sat, dizzy a bit from the effort. Ben made a little sound, questioning, in his sleep, and Anakin could see the bandages across his body, evidence of a fight he’d missed.

He stretched out carefully, Ben curving around to make space, like his body knew the position they took when asleep. Anakin exhaled shakily against the back of his neck, curling an arm around him, so careful with all the tubes attached to them both.

“Anakin?” Ben murmured, thoughts fuzzy, not all the way awake, but getting there and quickly. He stiffened, muscles tightening against Anakin’s chest. “I’m so--”

“Sh,” Anakin said, pulling him closer, wanting -- wanting things he couldn’t have and one thing he could, the comfort of Ben’s body close to his, the comfort of knowing that Ben had saved his life, the comfort of the smell of his hair and the softness of his skin.

He closed his eyes. He slept.

#my fic #lrpd verse #anakin and ben #warning for off screen loss of limbs #glimmer replies #ask me anything #MORE ANGST THAN ANTICIPATED I'M SORRY

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bee-kathony · 5 years

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Four Years | Year Three - “April 10th, 2016″

a/n: thank you so much for reading! back to Claire’s POV now and a wee bit nsfw...

Year One | Year Two

January 9th, 2016 | January 24th, 2016 | March 3rd, 2016 | March 30th, 2016

April 10th, 2016

I’d taken Jenny’s advice about occupying my mind and I sat in our backyard, knees and hands in the dirt, digging out a spot for a rose bush. First I had started on clearing up all the weeds and dead plants from when my parents had lived here.

With dirt under my nails, I stuck my tongue between my lips and concentrated on digging a deep enough hole. I could hear shrieks and laughs from Fergus inside and looked up to see Jamie chasing him through the house. While it touched me to see them so happy and getting along, I felt ashamed that I hadn’t connected with our son yet.

Every time I looked at him, curly brown hair and dark brown eyes, I couldn’t help but feel my heart squeeze at the thought of Jane. We had been blessed with one child, but I still wept for the one that was lost.

That’s what made this whole thing so damn difficult — Jamie seemed to be doing just fine. He’d bonded with Fergus quickly and I hadn’t seen him shed a tear in weeks. Perhaps he was better at healing than I was. Perhaps I was broken beyond repair.

The fresh earth under my fingers was keeping me tethered to something real. This rose bush was real. My heart was beating — that was real. Jamie… Fergus… they were real.

Sometimes I woke during the night, a cold sweat on my skin and I imagined that I heard Jane crying in her crib. Only once — after I came home from the hospital, did I walk to her half built nursery to find that she wasn’t there.

Now that room was empty. Jamie had taken out all of the things we had slowly been collecting over the months and gotten rid of them. That door stayed shut at all times.

“Sassenach,” Jamie appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath from chasing Fergus. “Do ye want somethin’ to drink? Or are ye hungry at all?”

“I’ll have some lemonade if we have any,” I smiled and then bent my head to resume my work.

A few moments later, he was kneeling down next to me, offering a cold glass of lemonade. “Thank you,” I took it and drank, downing half the glass in a second.

“I guess ye were thirsty,” he smiled and then started to stand up again.

“Jamie?”

He knelt back down, his finger pushing back a stray curl that had fallen over my face. “Aye, Sassenach?”

“How did you—“ I stopped, shaking my head.

“What? How did I what?”

I looked down at the dirt in my hands, crumbling it between my fingers, ashamed to meet his eyes. “How did you move on? You seem so happy, so… much lighter than I feel.”

“Ye mean move on from losing Jane?” He sank to his knees beside me, sliding his hand over my back. “Claire, what makes ye think that?”

“You laugh,” I sniffed, wiping my face, no doubt smearing dirt across my cheeks. “You play with Fergus and manage to act like a well put together human being for starters. I just don’t understand why you aren’t still sad.”

“I am sad, mo nighean donn,” he said softly. “And I only laugh and play because we still have a son that needs our attention. Ye havena exactly been able to help me wi’ that.”

“Of course I haven’t been able to!” I jerked my head to look up at him. “It kills me to be missing out on this part of his life. I hate myself for not being able to love him like I should — to not be able to bond with him as you have.”

“I didna mean to make ye upset, Sassenach.”

“Why don’t you cry, Jamie?” I said, so quietly I wasn’t sure he heard me.

He took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment before saying, “I cry, mo ghraidh. I cry every day, but I have wanted to be strong for ye. I thought that if ye saw that I was cryin’ it would only make ye more sad than ye already are.”

“Jamie,” I reached up to cup his cheek. “I thought you had forgotten.”

“Forgotten? Oh Christ no, Claire. Tis only been 76 days since we lost her, I willna ever forget what happened. Have you thought this of me the whole time?”

I saw the pain in his eyes then — the dark circles from sleepless nights and for the first time I really looked at him. He was thinner, his cheeks didn’t have that rosy glow they usually did. Jamie looked miserable and here I had been thinking him a heartless man.

“I did,” I nodded. “I hadn’t seen you cry or heard you talk about her unless I brought her up since just after we came home without her. I’m sorry for that.”

“Ye’ve nothin’ to be sorry for, Sassenach,” Jamie placed his hand over mine and brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of my palm. “If anyone is to apologize tis me for not bein’ open wi’ how I’ve been feeling. It’s been hell, a nighean.”

“Share that with me,” I pleaded, turning my body towards him. “Share that pain with me, we promised we would get through this together and just as you hold me up, I will hold you up James Fraser.”

His eyes watered and my own blurred with tears as I pressed my forehead against his. “There’s the two of us and I need you now more than ever.”

“I miss her, Claire,” Jamie buried his head in my neck, his arms wrapping around me and his body shook. “I miss her so damn much, it isna fair!”

I held him, as I said I would and let him cry, wetting my shirt sleeve. It pained me to think of how much he’d been hurting and I hadn’t even asked how he was. I had shut out anything and everyone other than what I needed to do to grieve and move forward.

“Jamie?” I pulled his head up, wiping his tears away with the pads of my thumbs. “Do you know why I wanted to plant this rose bush?” He shook his head, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a child.

“I’m doing it so that every time we look at the beautiful roses, we will think of Jane. When they blossom, we can think of her and her beautiful little spirit,” I smiled, a feeling of warmth returning to my body.

“I love that, Sassenach, tis a wonderful thing to do,” he said and then placed both his hands on the side of my head and kissed me. It was full of unspoken hurts and conveyed all the words we had kept to ourselves. I love you, I need you, I will always need you.

“I was also thinking,” I said as I wiped my thumbs under his eyes. “That we should talk to someone. Of course, we need to talk with each other about all of this, but perhaps a professional.”

“Jenny mentioned that to me as well, I meant to ask ye about it,” he squeezed my hand. “I think it would be good for us, so that we dinna bottle up all of the pain. I wish I could help ye, Claire, I do, but I fear that I can’t help ye this time.”

“Oh, Jamie,” I pulled him to me again, rubbing his back with my hand. “You have helped me so much. You’ve given me space and time, more than I deserve. You’ve helped with Fergus, and for that I can’t thank you enough. No one is prepared to lose a child. No one.”

Jamie turned his head and rested his cheek on my shoulder, and I felt the way his breathing was slow and steady. I always felt safe in his arms — it had never occurred to me that perhaps he felt the safest in my arms as well.

We sat there for awhile longer until I realized that Fergus was in the house alone. “Is Fergus alright, Jamie? Where’s he at?”

“He’s playin’ wi’ the Batman figure in his room,” he smiled. “He hasna taken it out of his hands in days.”

I sighed, leaning my head on Jamie’s shoulder. “I’m a terrible mother aren’t I?”

“Shhh, Sassenach,” Jamie stroked my head, “Dinna ever say that. If it makes ye feel any better, the wee lad has asked for ye almost every night at story time.”

“He has?” I looked up at him. “Now I just feel worse,” my head sank back down, but Jamie lifted my chin up with his hand.

“Ye’ve been grievin’, Claire. We have time, he’s no goin’ anywhere,” he smirked. “If ye feel up to it, ye can read to him tonight.”

After talking with Jamie, I was already beginning to feel like my old self again. All I really needed to know was that we truly were in this together and that if either of us had a bad day, we would be there to pick up the pieces. Of course I should have known this after the way Jamie handled my cancer. He’d been my rock when I needed him most.

“I think I’m up to the task. I can’t promise any good voices though,” I laughed and it sounded strange to my own ears.

“Come inside, Sassenach. Ye’ve got dirt on yer face,” Jamie smiled and stood up, pulling me up by my hands. He lead me inside and pushed me towards the kitchen sink, grabbing a cloth and wetting the end. Turning to face me, he put on hand on my hip and then dabbed at my cheeks, wiping away the dirt. “All clean,” he smiled and leaned in, kissing the wet spot on my skin.

I had missed him. His touch, his warmth. The way my body so naturally called out to his to simply hold me and do with me as he would. The past weeks I hadn’t wanted him to touch me even though my mind was at war with what I needed. Now… I never wanted him to stop.

My eyes fluttered closed as he kissed my other cheek, slowly moving his mouth to nibble on my ear. Goosebumps broke out across my skin and I loosely wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on lest my knees gave away. “I’ve missed ye, Sassenach,” he whispered into my ear and that was all it took.

“Oh God, Jamie,” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks as I clung to him, my body shaking as his hands parted my legs, pushing my dress up around my waist. I heard the zipper of his fly and then felt his hand between my thighs, and he quickly guided himself inside of me. The doctor had told us to wait three weeks before having sex after the miscarriage.

It had been eleven weeks.

As Jamie thrust upwards, hitting that spot just so, I leaned my head into his neck, gently biting his flesh. He had me pressed against the counter, hands clutching onto my back so tightly I knew I would have his fingerprints there.

It was primal, it was needy. We were both desperate to feel something other than pain and I gave over to feeling the pleasure I so needed. “Jamie, I need you.” I pushed against him, circling my hips as he jerked again and again. “Sassenach,” he whispered and as he kissed me, I felt him spill inside me and only a moment later did I follow him, whimpering my own desperate cry of relief.

Slowly, he pulled out of me, tucking himself back into his pants and then helped me straighten up. I looked up at him, smiling and then started laughing. A deep belly laugh that echoed around the house.

“Why are ye laughin’?” He smiled.

“I just can’t believe we did that and Fergus could have walked in and seen us,” I covered my mouth with my hand. “We have to be more careful!”

“Well I didna have anythin’ on my mind other than partin’ yer legs, Sassenach if I’m honest.”

I blushed, “Well nor did I. Next time, let’s do it behind a locked door, alright?”

“If my lady insists,” he smirked and kissed me again, his hands settling on my waist. “Want to go check on Fergus now?”

“Yes, please,” I turned on my heel and made my way down the hallway towards Fergus’ room with Jamie hot on my trail. He was sitting on the floor with the Batman figure in his hand making him walk around. I felt a nudge on my back from Jamie and I walked over, sitting down beside him.

“Are you enjoying Batman?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Cape!”

“Oh yes, he does have a very lovely cape,” I smiled, picking up the nylon cape and waving it around. Fergus started laughing and I looked up to see that Jamie had gone, most likely to give me time on my own with our son.

I spent the next hour lying on the floor, playing with various toys. My dreadful fear that Fergus wouldn’t like me after all these weeks of me moping around started to fade away. He was talkative — with the few words he knew and very cheerful. While I would never forget the pain of losing Jane, my heart was beginning to lighten as I looked into the eyes of our son, seeing hope and love.

#four years #year three #outlander fanfic #curlsgetdemgurls #april 10 2016 #jamie x claire #healing

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songbird-and-her-fos · 5 years

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And here comes the second chapter! I hope you enjoy :D

Chapter 2

A Fateful Encounter

I shielded my eyes against the bright morning sun as I stepped out from underneath the thick canopy of the forest. Before me were miles upon miles of grassland, with no other person in sight in any direction. I sighed, not knowing where to go. Then I noticed that my hand was still tightly clasped around the odd crystal I had found. Well, now I had more than enough time to take a look at it. It seemed to be some kind of crystal that had been broken off of a bigger one. It was about half as long and wide as my index finger, and of a deep red colour. I put it in the breastpocket of my vest and just started walking in a random direction. Sooner or later, I would surely find someone who could help me.

A few hours later, I cursed myself, this weird land and whatever higher power had decided to suddenly throw me into a world I did not know. It was already noon, and I had thus far found no trace of civilization. Just the endless expanse of the fields. I was starting to get hungry and thirsty, and my feet were aching.

„Fuck this“, I mumbled under my breath and sat down in the soft grass to take a short rest. While I was sitting there, thinking about my situation and what to do next, I heard the unmistakable sound of horses approaching my location

It had been a while, since I had even seen a horse. But the soft clop clop clop of their hooves hitting the ground was something I would never forget. I jumped to my feet, ecstatic that in the end, I had been found, but my euphoria didn't last long.

The people that approached me on their horses were all armed to the teeth with cutlasses and halberds. And from what I could tell, all but one of them were female, with dark skin and red hair.

The sole man in the group was huge, towering over all of his companions, and it was not just because his horse was enormous. Suddenly, the crystal in my pocket began to glow, as if it was reacting to the approaching group. I quickly took it in my hand, hoping that my skin and flesh would somewhat disguise its light. Something told me that there people were not friendly.

Once they spotted me, they approached me at a smart trot, sorrounding me so I had no way of escaping.

Now that he was up close, the man, appearantly the leader, seemed even bigger. I had colleagues at work that were 6ft or taller, but he would have towered over all of them. This man must have been 7ft or even taller. I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

„Well well.. what have we here. How foolish of you to wander through Hyrule Field all on your own.“

At this point, my attention was drawn to his left hand, marked with a symbol made up of three triangles. And it was glowing, just like the crystal. I clutched it tighter. „I have my reasons.“

„Is that so?“ He dismounted and came up to me. I barely reached his chest, and I wasn't particularly short. Flaming red hair sorrounded a perfectly pure jewel on his forehead, contrasting with his dark skin. Skin which, as I noticed, had a slightly green-ish tint. „Do these reasons have to do with the artifact you're carrying?“

„Artifact?“ I looked at my closed fist. I did not know how, but I knew that I couldn't let him have the crystal under any circumstances. „I don't know what you're talking about.“

„The shard you have in your hand“, he said, still perfectly calm, like someone who was used to commanding and being obeyed. „Give it to me.“

I lifted my hand, let him catch a glimpse of the desired object, then stuck it in my mouth and swallowed it before he could react.

His yellow eyes widened and his hands jerked to my neck, as if he would try to strangle the crystal out of me again. But as soon as he touched my skin, he screamed in pain and retreated, finding his hands covered in blisters.

He had burned himself on me.

Power surged through my body, lifted my spirits and filled me with grim determination.

I had expected him to be angry when he looked at me again. But he wasn't. Instead, there was a morbid curiosity gleaming in his eyes. „The Triforce shard protected her. This is fascinating.“

He turned to one of his companions, who had watched all of this calmly. There was something off about these women; their eyes were empty, their faces expressionless. „Tie her up, but make sure not to touch her. I'll take her to the castle with me.“

Suddenly, a bright light flashed, and someone grabbed my arm.

„Come with me if you want to live!“, a woman's voice shouted, and before I knew it, I was on a horse, behind a woman with white hair, and saw the silhouette of the man and his brainwashed companions fading into the horizon.

Once they were gone, I tried to turn to my mysterious saviour. „Who are you?“

„Escaping now, introductions later“, the woman snapped, making the horse take up even more speed, as we dashed across the field until I could see a town in the distance.

Once we reached the town, the woman dismounted and helped me down as well. My heart was punding and my knees were shaking so badly that I almost dropped to the ground. My saviour patted the horse on the neck. „Sorry to push you so hard“, she told it. „But this was an emergency.“

Then she turned to me. „Come on. We have a lot to discuss.“

„I... okay.“

None of this made sense. This was all some crazy feverdream. But nonetheless, I followed her as she brought the horse to the town-stable and then ushered me into one of the houses.

The house was quite medieval. It consisted of only one room, as far as I could tell, and the wooden furniture was very obviously handmade. Two beds, a table and two chairs were the only kind of furnishings.

There was another person in the room. They wore a white turban that let a few blonde strands of hair fall into their face and a mask that covered their nose and mouth, with an almost skin-tight suit. On their chest was the symbol of a crying eye. They were qite short, but still I had a hard time telling how old they were.

Their crimson eyes looked me over before turning to the woman:„Who is this, Impa?“

„A victim of our folly, I fear“, the woman named Impa sighed. „Our plan to hide the shard in another world appears to have failed. Instead, it returned and pulled this woman along with it.“

The person approached my. „My name is Shiek. What's yours?“

„C...Cassandra“, I introduced myself.

„Cassandra“, they repeated. „Do you know where you are?“

I looked around. „I... I'm not sure. I know I've never seen any of this, but so many things seem familiar.“

They exchanged a quick glance.

„What happened to the shard you found? Is it safe?“

„She ate it“, Impa said dryly. She sounded like she was trying really hard not to laugh. „Ganondorf found her in the fields, and I happened to be nearby, so I witnessed the whole thing. She just looked him in dead the eyes and swallowed it. It was priceless.“

So this man's name was Ganondorf. I burned it into my memory.

Shiek looked at me with a mix of fascination and horror. „And then? I mean, do you feel... different?“

„I felt... stronger, once I had swallowed the shard. And it made Ganondorf burn his hands when he tried to touch me.“

Again, they exchanged a quick look.

„Is that possible, Impa?“, Shiek asked.

„I'm not sure“, Impa replied. „But either way, it means that Cassandra is in grave danger. Now that Ganondorf knows that Cassandra has the shard, he will do everything to get his hands on her.“

I grasped my neck. „Oh god...“

„Don't worry. We'll keep you safe“, Shiek promised. „But you have to do everything we say. Understood?“

„Okay“, I said, shaking.

Shiek turned to leave. „Can you handle her on your own, Impa? I would stay and help, but...“

„I know. It's too dangerous to stay in one place for too long.“ Impa gave Shiek an affectionate smile. „Take care.“

After Shiek left, Impa pointed to the bed closer to the wall. „You'll sleep there. Are you hungry? I'll go get some food. After that, I would like to ask you some questions.“

„Of course“, I replied.

Impa left, and I sat down on the bed, burying my face in my hands. What was happening to me?

A strange warmth filled my chest, comforting me. My hand wandered to where the warmth came from, and instead of my skin, I felt smooth crystal. I looked under my shirt and saw the shard embedded in my skin!

I bit my lip and pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and rocking myself until I calmed down. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't right. I should have been coming home from work right now. I should be entering my loving home, help my sister with her homework and then spend the evening reading the well-worn edition of my favourite John Sinclair story.

While I was so deep in thought, I suddenly felt the urge die leave the house and the town. Where to, I did not know, but I felt like I would find out if I just followed it. But before I could, Impa came back, carrying some bread, cheese and dried meat.

„There I am. Sorry it took so long.“ When she saw me rocking, she raised an eyebrow. „Are you quite alright?“

I forced myself to stop and let out a deep sigh. „I'm okay. It's just something I do when I'm upset. It calms me.“

She sat down next to me and handed me the food. „There you go.“

I ate quickly, because my stomach was growling and when it did that, I would soon get a headache if I didn't eat.

The bread tasted different from what I was used to. I couldn't describe it, but it wasn't a negative change. The meat, on the other hand, could have really used some salt.

When I was done, I looked to Impa, waiting for her to start questioning me. But she just shook her head. „Maybe you should sleep before I ask any more questions. You had a rough day and probably need it.“

„Okay“, I replied, wrapping the blanket around my and resting my head on the pillow. „Goodnight.“

„Goodnight“, Impa replied.

#Beyond Daydreams #The legend of zelda #fanfiction #swearing

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fluffyllamas-23 · 6 years

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Another fic, featuring the babes (Mason, Sean and Lucy). It’s part two to this fic, because why the hell not XD.

Shoutout to @emeraldthread for all the character development I’ve been able to do with them, and also for letting me ramble on and on about them XD.

(also @collegeanon-sickfics because she deserves all the love always)

By the time Lucy brings Sean back to her apartment, he’s more than ready to lie down.

She walks in ahead of him, and he stands in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets. He feels out of place - he doesn’t even know this woman, and he’s absolutely intruding. She’s been working for twelve hours, too, he should have just asked her to drop him off at home.

“Sean?”

He clears his throat with a grimace, “you know it’s not safe to invite random men to your apartment...that’s how you get murdered.”

She quirks a brow, “are you going to murder me?”

“No, but-”

“-Good. I’d hate to have to kick your ass.”

“I could take you,” he slurs, blinking heavily.

She pats his upper arm, “sure you could.”

“I could…I could do it.”

He blinks tiredly, and she smiles softly at him, “come on. You need to go lie down.”

“Thank you for letting me stay,” he croaks, following her over to her couch. “You could have dropped me off at my house.”

“Are you forgetting that you locked your keys in your car?”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose, “oh yeah.”

“Lie down,” she instructs, “I’m gonna go grab you some blankets and tissues. Hey, you want to my kitten? She’s still pretty little so she likes to cuddle.”

“You have a cat?” He squawks, eyes lighting up.

“A kitten, yeah. Shiloh. She’s seven weeks, I found her outside.”

“Yes. One hundred percent”

When she returns with Shiloh, he’s still standing next to the couch, staring at it blankly.

“Are you alright?”

He jumps, and then turns to look at her with a sheepish look on his face.

“Sorry, I just feel-” he’s cut off by a harsh sneeze, “*snff* like I’m being a burden.”

She rolls her eyes, “you aren’t. I’m the one who offered.”

“But-”

“-You’re having a rough day. You’re not being a burden, I promise. Now, will you lie down and get some rest? Shiloh wants to be held,” she says, holding out a tiny, purring, fluffy grey-striped kitten.

He nods tiredly and collapses onto the couch with a light groan.

Lucy places the kitten on his chest, and then disappears for a few moments. She returns and drapes a blanket over him and then pats his shoulder. “Sit up, I have pillows.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, eyelids drooping as soon as he’s settled against them.

“Don’t sleep yet. Medicine first.”

Lucy flits around her apartment, unable to sit still for long. She checks on him and Shiloh multiple times, still floored that someone so cute had agreed to a date.

Of course, she thinks, it was probably his fever and once it goes away, and he’s more clear-headed he’ll probably break the date...he probably has a girlfriend anyways. Guys who look like that aren’t just single.

Guys who are actually taller than her aren’t just single. He has a good four inches on her, which is saying something, because she’s 5’11 and that would make him 6’2 at least.

Any guy she doesn’t tower over might as well be a unicorn, she’s learned.

The height is what drew her to him in the first place, but what kept her interest was how cute he is, even though he was, and still is, completely miserable.

She sighs as she stares down at him.

“Hey, Sean,” she says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. After a couple of moments, his glassy blue, fever-bright eyes open, and he looks around in confusion for a split second before he realizes where he is.

“What time is it?” He mumbles.

“Four. I know you’re tired, but I want to check your fever, and you need food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I think you misheard,” she teases, “nowhere in that sentence did I ask if you wanted food. I said you needed it, which you do.”

He groans and drapes an arm over his eyes, “fine.”

“Does anything sound good?”

“Maybe soup or something...my throat really hurts.”

She frowns, “yeah, I’ll make some. How do you feel about canned soup?”

He gives a sleepy chuckle, nuzzling his face into the pillow and petting the kitten with one hand. “I can’t cook, all I ever eat are canned and microwavable meals.”

“Perfect,” she says, handing him the thermometer before walking into the kitchen.

Sean stares at the numbers after it beeps, and groans lightly.

This is not how he planned on spending his day off. He had stuff he needed to get done today, but instead he feels like death and is stuck on the couch with a one hundred and one degree fever and is stuffed up to his eyeballs with some awful, awful congestion. It’s making his head throb with an intensity he doesn’t think possible.

“Still have a fever?” She calls from the stove.

“One oh one.”

“Damn,” she mutters, “did you have one yesterday?”

“Yeah…but not until after work.”

“I’ll give you more medicine after you eat something...and water, are you thirsty?”

“A little.”

“I’ll get you some in a second.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, eyelids drooping.

“Alright!” Lucy chirps, pulling into a parking spot next to his car, “triple A should be here soon, I called before we left.”

It’s three in the afternoon, forty five minutes after he finally was able to drag himself off the couch. He’s feeling much better though - his fever had broken last night, and made no indication that it was going to come back. He’s still miserably congested, which is making him a little fuzzy headed, and he’s still coughing, but it seems like the worst of it has passed.

“I honestly don’t know how to thank you,” he says, shooting her a lopsided grin. She tries not to choke on a breath, because he has the cutest smile she’s ever seen. That, coupled with the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks is enough to make her stare.

She tucks a curl behind her ear and smiles at him, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. “We’re still on for that drink, right?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say ye-

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, “absolutely.”

“Good. Since we’re here-”

“-I’m going to go check on Pepper,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. She watches as he walks away, and then turns her attention back to her phone.

Her thoughts drift back to him, and she finds herself mentally kicking herself. Why the hell is she getting so wrapped up in this guy she’s known less than twenty four hours? It’s stupid, that’s what it is. She’s never like this over guys, but because he’s cute, and sweet, and funny…and seeing him cuddling on the couch with her kitten made her melt, she’s falling hard for him.

She hates herself.

Sean comes back out a couple of minutes later, a frown on his face.

“Everything okay?”

“She had surgery last night and I didn’t have my phone so that they could call me with updates.”

Lucy inhales sharply, “is she-”

“-She’s fine!” He cries, waving his hands in front of him. She sighs in relief and he grimaces, “God, no...if she would have...you know...I don’t know what I would have done. She’s okay, they just have to monitor her for the next twenty four hours and then I can take her home.”

“I’m glad.”

“I should probably call out of work for th-shit.”

“What?”

“I’m supposed to be at work!”

“WHAT?!”

“I have work at two! I’m going to get fired!” He cries, going into a coughing fit.

“Breathe,” she instructs, “you’re not going to get fired. I’ll drive you there and you’ll just explain to your boss what happened.”

“My car-“

“-give me a minute,” she says.

“We don’t have a minute!”

“You’re over an hour late. Two more minutes isn’t going to kill you, just chill.”

“Hurry up.”

“Oh my God, will you just relax? I’ll get you there, don’t worry.”

“SEAN!” Mason cries, launching himself at the taller man the moment he walks through the front doors of the hotel. “Are you okay?! I thought you died.”

“No, I’m okay,” Sean promises.

“What the hell?!” Mason cries, smacking Sean on the upside of his head. “You don’t answer my calls, you’re not at your apartment, you don’t show up for the start of your shift? I called the cops, you asshole.”

“it was...a day yesterday,” Sean groans. “Pepper got sick and I had to take her to the vet and then I locked my keys and phone in my car….”

Mason goes back to squeezing Sean so hard that Sean can’t breathe, and he struggles against his grip.

“Sean,” Lucy says, frowning at the two.

“Yeah?” Sean chokes out.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

Sean scowls, shoving Mason, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

Mason grins at Lucy, “Sean would never date me, he likes women too much. I don’t really care either way, though. I’d date him, he’s hot.”

Sean shoves him, “shut up you moron.”

Mason cackles maniacally at Sean’s annoyance before he turns his attention back to Lucy. He smirks at her, “you’re hot too. What’s up? How you doin’?”

Lucy stares at him blankly, thoroughly unimpressed, “I was great until I met you.”

“Ouch,” he says, putting a hand over his heart with a chuckle, “but fair enough.”

“Mason,” Sean hisses, frustration lacing his tone.

Mason looks between the two of them before a grin spreads across his face, “oh. I’m so sorry, I’m Mason, nice to meet you.”

She chuckles, giving him a little wave. “I’m Lucy.”

Sean rolls his eyes but puts a hand on Lucy’s lower back, “I’m so sorry I have to leave you alone with him but I need to go find my boss. Feel free to ignore him, that’s what I usually do.”

Mason gasps, “I cannot believe that my best friend, my bro, my fake boyfriend, would sell me out like this. How dare you.”

Lucy frowns, “fake boyfriend?”

“It’s a long story-“

“-no it’s not,” Mason says, looking at Lucy, “my family wouldn’t stop bugging me about when I’m getting a girlfriend so I told them that Sean is my boyfriend.”

Lucy bursts out laughing, and Sean finds himself staring at her with a goofy, dreamy grin. She catches his gaze and immediately flushes and looks away shyly.

Sean clears his throat and looks over at Mason. “My head hurts too much for this. Hey, how about you stop slacking off and get to work.”

Mason flips him off, “hey, screw you. If you haven’t noticed the lobby is empty and I have nothing to do.”

As soon as Sean is out of the lobby, Mason looks at Lucy and purses his lips.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah?”

“What are your intentions with Sean?”

She’s taken aback by how serious he sounds, “my intentions? Well…a date, to start with.”

“Look, Sean tends to fall hard and fast for whoever he dates. He puts 200% into a relationship, but he doesn’t…do it often. He likes you, I can tell, and that takes a lot for him.n I’m not saying you have to marry the guy, I’m really not…but I don’t want you to start dating him if you’re just going to bail on him.”

She sighs, bringing her eyes to Mason’s. “I promise I’m not just screwing around...I like him a lot.”

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear,” Mason grins, pulling her into a hug.

Lucy sighs in relief, hugging him back before stepping away from him.

“Hey, guys,” Sean says, walking back over to them.

“Hey! What did he say?”

“He’s not as big a dick as I thought.”

“Oh?” Mason asks.

“I mean he was pissed at first but he’s letting me have the rest of the weekend off.”

“Who knew he had a heart, damn,” Mason says, and looks at Lucy and Sean, “you two crazy kids go have fun.”

Sean shoots him a weak smile, “I just want to go back to sleep.”

“Probably a good idea, you look like shit,” Mason frowns, concern etched into his features, he looks at Lucy and raises his brows, “make sure he gets to bed and doesn’t die, yeah?”

Lucy grins, “I’ll do my best.”

“Hey, how about that drink?” Sean croaks, before going into a painful sounding coughing fit.

She grimaces, “how about some tea and medicine? You’re starting to look miserable again.”

He nods, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “yeah okay...sounds like a plan.”

She ushers him out of the hotel as he waves goodbye to Mason.

“Feel better!” Mason calls after him.

“Uh, so what happened with my car?” Sean asks as he trails after Lucy.

“I asked one of the girls at the front desk to get your keys from the tow truck driver.”

“Oh,” he nods, blinking tiredly.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, shooting him a sad smile once they’re in the car.

He shrugs, coughing lightly, “not great.”

“I’m sorry, Sean,” she frowns.

“It’s okay...s’not your fault.”

“I know...I just...it sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” he mutters, “I’m really sorry if I get you sick, by the way.”

She grins, “it’s fine. I’ll just make you bring me tea.”

“It’s a date.”

“Well I hope we have a date that doesn’t involve either of us being sick.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sean says, glancing at her.

They lapse into silence, which is only punctuated by Sean sniffling and coughing.

Lucy finally pulls into the parking lot, and looks over at Sean, who’s half asleep at this point, “will you be okay to drive home?”

He nods, yawning sleepily, “yeah, I’ll be fine, but, um...could-uh...could I get your number?”

“Well, I thought you’d never ask,” she says, handing him her phone.

As soon as he puts his number in and texts himself, he leans over and kisses her cheek.

“Thank you so much, Lucy.”

Her cheeks flush, “y-yeah…o-of course…um…if you need anything, text me.”

“Will do.”

“Feel better, Sean,” she says.

He nods, clearing his throat with a grimace, “thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”

She watches as he walks into the clinic, hoping that later comes sooner than she thinks.

#OCs #lucy and sean #and mason #sickfic #sneezing #coughing #fever

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the-erickson-labrynthian · 7 years

Text

‘Big Project’ Prologue: Nathan and The Allex Cube

Welp, a promise is a promise, so I suppose I should get straight to it. This is a VERY big post, so be aware. Sorry phone users, because I know for some reason it doesn’t allow the ‘keep reading’ thing all of the time. If you’re looking for a description of the book or stuff from this post don’t expect it, this is just an open door, try to figure it out for yourself sort of deal. All the other nonsense comes later, I suppose. Well, to delay it no further, here it is, the prologue to the first book I’ll ever publish:

Prologue:

The Embargo III set off with three people aboard. One pilot—not quite a man but easily as dedicated as one— one other man, actually a man, who went beyond dedication, and one boy who, when the idea of trying came into his mind, simply couldn’t.

None of the three would be loved, should they succeed. None of the three were loved in the first place, at least not by anyone outside of the ship. And, if the mission failed, none of them would survive, not in a world which, as Nathan had been told, was heading to decay itself.

Only one of them was happy to be going.

Nathan Briggs was a fifteen-year-old boy, and he wasn’t the happy one. He didn’t like random parts of the ship poking into him. He didn’t like the way his legs squished together to avoid kicking anything important (on a ship that was barely ten times his size). He didn’t like being hungry, or thirsty, or dizzy, and he especially didn’t like the bag of vomit he had been adding to with every shake of the half-functioning ball his father called a ship.

Simply put, Nathan didn’t like this. Nathan wanted to go home to his doomed world. He wasn’t loved in this world, but he wasn’t vomiting, there was plenty of space, and on rare days when the well would give, there would be water. On the ship there was only alcohol. His father stirred around a glass of Le Chat Noir whiskey. His third glass in the last hour.

William had twice the bags under his eyes of his son, mostly stress-induced, and his green eyes bounced around frantically, as if he was constantly thinking. He hadn’t taken care of himself in a long time, with his short raven black hair jutting out in a dozen directions. Dirt was visible on his face, though it was hard to distinguish from the stubble that was his beard. His entire body was moving in little ways, with his right hand going back and forth from fiddling with the collar of his charcoal black lab coat to wiping off things that Nathan couldn’t see from his matching dark grey khakis. He tapped his shoes along the back of Renold’s seat, slowly pulling and pushing them on and off against the rough surface. The last nonstop movement was in the other hand as he continued to spin his glass of Le Chat Noir whiskey.

Just a couple hours before, a shake in the ship made William spill his spinning whiskey, leading to him cursing and whining, commanding Renold to drive better despite knowing full well the shakes weren’t his fault. The fault was William’s for spinning the glass wildly in such tight quarters, but once the shaking stopped and another glass was poured, he span it again.

At the time, Nathan was fuming in his head. You’re the one with all the leg room, the open window, the biggest seat, and you make the mess!

The only person who let out their frustrations then was William onto Nathan, who had just upchucked for the second time with the sudden shake.

“Nathan, I don’t want to smell that! Did you really have to do that? Why can’t you hold it in?”

“I don’t feel like smelling an alcoholic either, but I guess we’re both stuck.”

“You little-!”

“Quiet, you two!” Renold had said.

William rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, then went back to his drink, muttering something unintelligible. Nathan wiped his mouth and folded his puke bag, so that it was sealed and wouldn’t spill like the liquor, but still be easily accessible should he need it again. He knew he would. He’d keep puking until the bag filled up, or until his stomach ran out. Nathan grabbed his belly. It was rumbling for food and vomiting it out at the same time.

Nathan had not vomited again since, but his stomach didn’t feel any better. He wasn’t trained for this kind of travel like they were. He’d never set a foot off land. Off Sabyn. Outer space was far out of his comfort zone.

As he reminisced, another series of shakes and bumps rocked around the ship. Nathan covered his mouth and closed his eyes. In his mind he was standing on the ground, dust flying by and staining his blue jeans, and the well was in front of him. The only chore worth doing was pumping water up that well. Something about the action was calming. It repeated. It was simple. The last time he pumped water was the morning before his father would unveil the ‘Revolution of the world. Strongest feat of ingenuity. The key to eternity. My last child. The Embargo III!’ (though, morning was a strong word, since one could never tell when was night and when was day on Sabyn).

The ship steadied, and Nathan opened his eyes. No vomit from him. His father held onto his whiskey tight. Everything was fine. He was fine. Nathan grabbed his stomach.

Nope…

He pulled the bag over and puked again. William groaned and covered his eyes at the sight of it, cursing, “Damnit, Nathan! I wanted this trip to be nice!”

“You should’ve built a better ship,” He said, wiping his mouth.

“Shut up, or I leave you out there.”

“I didn’t want to go. You could’ve let me stay home. I told you, I can’t handle this. I can’t focus or rest, and I’m hungry…” He trailed off, “And tired, I don’t even know what the hell we’re doing…” “Saving everything. I’ve gone over this.”

“With a barely-functioning ship?” Nathan questioned, “Without any safety features, and food or water, or even room to stretch out?”

“You’re a baby! We don’t need those things for this plan.”

“You call this a plan?” Nathan continued, “Without knowing where we are going? With the hope that a stupid myth is true?”

“It’s not a myth!” He protested.

Nathan groaned, “We aren’t planning, we’re winging it. There’s a thousand variables. Nothing about this is safe, to me. Nothing about this sounds like a plan. Nothing about this sounds like humanity’s last hope. If it is, then we have no hope! Even if what you say is true…”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” William exclaimed, “You’re a kid. You can’t even build a potato clock when I explain every step. You’re a simpleton. I made this! I made a ship! This is my ship! My ship!” He repeated, “I am the boss. I know what I’m doing. I say, shut up. I say, if you puke again, I’ll make you eat it. I say, get over it. The world turned its back on life, but I won't.”

“How noble,” Nathan muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing…”

“Damn right,” William grunted, “Renold, how close are we?”

“A… ways away, sir. I project about two more hours until arrival. Until then, I say we all just take a look out into the stars. There’ so much to wonder with them, is there not? You two have a lot of hostility from being in here, so tightly next to one another. It would be better if we sat and relaxed. We’ll get there soon, sir.”

Nathan didn’t say a word, but William protested still, “Why am I taking orders on my own ship? I can do what I want!”

“Sir, I-”

William put both his feet up on the back of Renold’s seat, raising a finger in the air, saying, “I think—no, I believe— we can do it in one hour! I say we can get in there, get that damn cube, and get home in time for supper!”

“Sir, pleas-”

“I can do everything! I don’t take orders from anyone! You think Nate could do what I could? You think he deserves a right to say what he thinks, when he doesn’t even care about the fate of his own life? His own universe?”

“Well, Sir…”

“I am not dealing with any of this!” He exclaimed, “I am doing great things! Great things! And I-”

“William!” Renold interrupted.

Nathan flinched at the unusual burst. He looked at his father, who looked down and clenched his fists, biting his lip, but holding a solemn expression.

Renold broke the silence, “We will be there in two hours, give or take a bit.”

“Two hours?” William asked in a whisper.

“Two hours.”

“Okay…” William licked his lips and turned to his window. He started spinning his whiskey again.

Nathan folded back up his vomit bag and set it off to his right. He turned to the other side and looked out of a much smaller window than what his father had.

The stars were more apparent in space. That was the first thing he noticed. They were more visible in his remote house in the middle of nowhere than most of Sabyn’s bustling cities, but they were the most rare in his part than any other, and even that sky sprawled out with stars didn’t compare to what was just a sheet of glass away. He put his hand on the window. When on the ground, more often when he was younger, he wanted to touch the stars. His father had told him some stories, not many, but a few about what was past the atmosphere. Up there in the sky, to Nathan, was an endless sea of potential. He used to wonder if one of those stars were a portal to take him away to a place where they weren’t running. A place with some full trees. Somewhere better. A place where he could lay on the grass in barely any clothes, listen to the wind, sleep the whole day away. Peace.

Now, when he looked at them, after learning they weren’t portals, Nathan wished they would explode. Take him away, and everything with him, so he could stop worrying, and go to sleep. Eternal sleep. He never had a good night's rest.

He hadn’t slept since the morning before they took off. It had to have been a whole day since then. Nathan needed some rest before all of this world-saving and adventuring began. He thought it would be difficult with the bumping, but as he closed his eyes he felt an immediate slip of consciousness. The sounds around him dulled down. His breathing steadied. The world went black.

#Nathan #big project #prologue #writing #my writing #my book #new book #novella #my stuff #I mean I actually did this #like I actually did this #it is a bit overwhelming #author #Nathan and the Allex Cube

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