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#his brother died telling him You Were More Important To Me Than The Village
nebulaafterdark · 5 months
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Exile (Part 3)
Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves
Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY
Part 2
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Days turn into weeks and they fall into a routine. Y/N and Haymitch lead different lives for the most part. He likes to stay in, she needs to go out. To see people. To prove to herself that the world didn’t actually change, only she did.
“My father wants you to come over for dinner.” Y/N tells her husband, upon her return from town.
“He wants me?” Haymitch frowns.
“Well, it’s a family dinner,” Y/N shrugs. “You haven’t really met my family.”
“I know your family.”
“I didn’t mean…” Maysilee.
“You said your mother struggles,” Haymitch remembers their conversations. Every word she’s ever said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to see me.” The boy who won, the year her little sister died.
“My dad wouldn’t have asked if he thought it would be too much for her. He’s very protective of my mother.” Sometimes at the expense of his own daughters. “It would mean a lot to me.”
“Fine.” Haymitch takes a long swig from his glass. “We can play happy family, why not?”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to put on a show. Just be yourself.”
“If I didn’t know any better I’d almost think you like me.” Haymitch smirks.
“Good thing you know better.” Y/N grins, turning away from him.
————————————————————————
“Well, Haymitch, it’s good to see you again.” Mayor Undersee claps the other man on the back as he steps over the threshold into Y/N’s childhood home.
“Nice to see you too.” Haymitch forces a smile.
“Please, come in and make yourself comfortable at the table. Dinner will be served momentarily.”
Y/N gives Haymitch’s hand a squeeze, kissing her father’s cheek, in greeting, before leading him deeper into the house. If Haymitch could even call it a house. More like a mansion, similar to the ones they occupy in victor’s village.
Madge and Mrs. Undersee are waiting for them at the dinner table. The girl glares up at him from her seat. She’s younger than Maysilee was, when Haymitch met her in the arena, but it’s still like seeing a ghost. It hurts to look at her.
“Madge pie, this is Haymitch.” Y/N smiles at her little sister.
“I know who he is.” Madge bites out. Y/N never had many nice things about him, until a few weeks ago when she up and married him.
“Y/N talks about you all the time.” Haymitch tells Madge. “All good things.”
Madge scowls, and says nothing.
“I understand that this is confusing for you. I know he and I don’t have the best track record.” Y/N sighs. “But what I need you to know is that Haymitch is good to me; he’s so good to me and he’s…important to me.”
Haymitch stares at Y/N, snapping his mouth shut as Madge huffs, but agrees to drop the subject.
He was important to her? Haymitch stews on it, through dinner. He couldn’t be important to her, he isn’t good enough. It’s his fault they’re in this mess to begin with.
But Y/N seems…happy. Happy with him and her family all together. Happy to make him part of her family.
Perhaps things have changed for her too.
The Undersees are nice enough, but they make Haymitch long for his own family. To have people he could bring her home to meet. His mother would’ve loved her. His little brother. His father was a man of few words, even still, Haymitch is sure Y/N could’ve pulled a smile from him.
When they are stuffed from their meal, the table disbands. Waving Y/N and Haymitch goodbye, from the doorway.
The victors set off, back to their village. Their foot steps falling in tandem atop the melting snow.
“I think they like you.” Y/N says, after a moment of silence.
“Your kid sister wants to string me up.” Haymitch chuckles.
“Madge will come around. She just needs time.”
Haymitch nods. “Well, they invited me for an encore next week. So at least there’s that.”
“You can tell them no, you know?” Y/N reminds him.
He shrugs, “happy wife, happy life.” You’re important to me too.
They manage to make it home, to the new couch in the foyer, before they’re a mess of lips, tongues and wandered hands.
“I want you.” Y/N breathes, staring up at him above her.
“You have me.” Haymitch assures her.
“Please?” She is prepared to beg. Because surely that wasn’t allowed.
They haven’t…not since their wedding night. Never just for them. Never just because they wanted to. Mostly, they exchanged a few words and then did this; kisses and heavy petting.
“Angel,” he sighs. She couldn’t possibly want that, she must want comfort and to be close to him. “This is enough, I’ll stay right here.” With her legs wrapped around him like a vice. “We don’t have to do anything else.” He nuzzles her nose.
“I want to. Just for us. Unless you don’t-”
“Oh believe me, I want.” His cock is hard and pulsing between them. “But only if you’re sure.”
Y/N nods. “I’m sure.”
Haymitch kisses her then, letting her set the pace. Their clothing hits the floor and Y/N keens as he slips a hand between them. She’s so wet.
“Please.”
“Anything you want, anything you need.” Haymitch murmurs, lining himself up with her entrance and easing inside.
“Fuck,” Y/N says. He angles her hips upward, hitting that spot with each pass.
“Is that all you want, angel?” He hums, cupping her breast in his hand. “I’ll keep you full of me and make you cum until you can’t think straight. Is that what you want?”
Y/N nods.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he all but growls. Leaning back on his heels, driving into her faster. “I want that too.”
He can’t avoid her like this, or feign a shred of indifference. All he can do is love her and love her and love her. Fuck, how he loves her. Even though he isn’t supposed to, even if he’ll only admit it to himself when he’s balls deep. Haymitch is in love. In sinking, festering, all consuming, inconvenient, love.
Y/N kisses him reverently, because Haymitch makes her feel things. He’s one of the few people who can, after the games. Like parts of her went numb in the arena. She feels nothing at all. But he sets her ablaze. Sometimes with rage, other times with passion, but she’s never felt this way about anyone before.
It is real, so very real.
The coil in her belly goes hot, impossibly tight. What is he doing to her? “I-” she begins to protest. “Uh!”
“You’re ok.” Haymitch assures her, pressing his hand to her lower belly, adding to the sensation.
“Oh god,” Y/N gasps. It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Building and building… “Haymitch!” She claws at his forearms, in warning.
A rush of wetness greets him. Her cheeks heat up, but Haymitch won’t allow her to be embarrassed. “I want you all over me- make you cum on every piece of furniture in this damn house.”
Y/N whines, lost in him. His words, his touch, his eyes, boring into her soul as he ruins her. Until there is nothing left but him. All of him and all of her, splayed out for the other to see.
————————————————————————
Things are different after that. Haymitch becomes very…attentive. Bringing Y/N little gifts. Anything from books he found at the hob, to flowers he’d found growing around the back of their house.
Because it has become theirs now, not just his. Little pieces of her are everywhere, twining themselves into his DNA.
Y/N takes an interest in fixing his favorite meals, watching his face light up.
“Went down to the hob today.” Haymitch tells her, lying his latest offering on the dinner table.
Y/N turns away from her pot on the stove, flipping the burner off. “Oh?”
“Funny enough, they asked about you.”
“Haymitch-”
“Whatever you’re doing down there,” supplying them with things to sell, bringing money back into the district, “is grounds for execution. Even for a victor.” Haymitch reminds her. “So you’re gonna stop doing it.”
“I can’t stop, Haymitch. Those people, our people, they need that money. They’re starving!”
“I’m taking over. You supply the goods, I’ll pitch in some things of my own. But you stay away from the hob. Peacekeepers can’t see you there, nobody can see you there.” Haymitch continues.
“I’ve been doing this for years.” Since before the games. “I haven’t been caught.”
“You got lucky.” He reasons, “or maybe you didn’t.”
“What?”
“What are the odds that the mayor’s daughter gets her name called at the reaping? You didn’t have to take tesserae, so your name was in there once? That’s some incredibly bad luck on your part. Or maybe somebody did know that you were trying to help the people in the seam.” Haymitch lifts a shoulder.
“My aunt’s name was in there once. Just one time. It can happen and it does.” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest.
“Look, I don’t want to fight. I know this is important to you, but I can’t have you there. It’s too much of a risk. I’ll be the middle man.”
“Fine,” Y/N sighs. Reaching down for his glass and taking a swig. The liquid is foul, burning her nostrils and throat, causing her to sputter and gag. “Is that fucking rubbing alcohol?”
“That’s the hard stuff, angel.” Haymitch claps his hand against her back as she continues her coughing fit. “Should’ve started off with wine or champagne.” Something sweet for his sweet girl.
“It tastes different when…” Y/N’s eyes dart to his lips. “When it’s on you.”
“Interesting,” Haymitch muses. Suddenly he’s having her for dinner.
Part 4
Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila
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12boogaloo · 3 months
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Okay, I cant take it anymore. The brain rot is REAL
Been on a writing hiatus since 2019 or 2020 (I honestly don’t remember so don’t @ me)
And what gets me to finally start writing again?
You guessed it ladies, gents, and serpents!
Fucking TROLLS 3
Let’s get this bread or die trying y’all 😈
~•~
So first things first: I didn’t come up with the AU’s I’m using here! They were created by TheMiraculousMat and Keebsification on here and AO3
The AU’s in question are The Eldest and The Youngest and Out The Train Wreck
I just love it when people see John Dory and think “hmmm yes this grown man can fit so much eldest daughter energy in him” cuz SAME
So I thought: what if I just… put em together? OTT! JD and E&Y! JD have a grip on my soul and I’m filling a formal complaint in the form of fanfiction for not just 1, but 2 other pieces of fanfiction!!! Cuz why not
I’m gonna post the notes I’ve had about this idea for the past 2 week, at least the first part.
Well… it’s half notes, half chapter really…
Maybe. MAYBE. I’ll clean it up and post it on AO3. Maybe… probably lets be real
Anyway. Y’all can call me Boog and this is Project: Hyperfixation Won
Actual story name pending…
~•~
Part 1: Author’s Actual Notes because they are a nerd
Got an idea
Gonna scratch the itch
Half brain rot dump and half story here
Combination of the Eldest and Youngest JD and the Train Wreck JD
I also head canon that trolls have tails and claws and fangs
They’re lil creatures
Basically the same stuff happens in TW with the manager and John being Branch’s father.
Branch grows up knowing JD is his dad while everyone else thinks they’re brothers.
He and Luka are dating. He’s basically Branch’s other dad.
Luka gets taken and John thinks he died. He keeps his glove to remember him.
The fight still happens. John still leaves but promises Branch that he’ll come back.
He goes to the Neverglades for the next four years.
When he gets a letter about Rosiepuff and Branch he immediately heads back to the tree to take care of him.
Pretty much all of E&Y happens but with the change of Branch knowing JD is his dad.
Makes the trauma of him leaving worse in a way which adds to the angst of the first parts delicious, but it also makes their bond really solid later on.
John forgot that everyone in the village knew them as brothers until Poppy asks him if John is Branch’s daddy out of the blue. He panics and says “no” on instinct and they both decide to just go with it. Easier than explaining it to everyone.
She still doesn’t know. Nobody does.
John still loses his arm trying to save Creek(nasty ass).
One morbid silver lining John felt was that at least it wasn’t the hand he wore Luka’s glove on. Small miracles. Lol I’m sorry
Branch doesn’t remember Luka anymore, at least not really. He sorta remembers a burgundy haired troll that he thought was important but couldn’t remember anything else about them so he didn’t think too much about it.
John doesn’t really like talking about him and Branch hasn’t ever asked so he doesn’t bring it up.
He starts dating Hickory and he does tell him about Luka. He admits that while he definitely is falling for Hickory, a part of him will always belong to Luka and their relationship will always be really important to him.
Hickory is more than okay with that and even tells him that he would’ve loved to have met the man that made his sweetheart so happy and kept him safe before it was his turn. (John just about cried when he said that same buddy and agreed that they’d probably get along pretty well.)(He shows Hickory pictures of him and Luka one day and they laugh over the fact that John clearly has a type.)(And, based on Hickory’s own light blush, same.)(He immediately said Luka was ‘real cute’ and John still laughs at him for it.)
He also tells him about Bold and how Branch came to be. (Hickory spent solid hours comforting him afterwards and spent an equal amount of time thinking of ways he could get Dickory to help him torture the bastard if he ever saw him.)(He decides in that moment that he’d do anything to protect his boyfriend and his son. Anything.) (He’s also even more grateful to Luka when he hears about how he protected his love the day they met. He really wishes he could thank him…)
Branch makes jokes about not calling Hickory his stepdad till they get married, which makes John flush bright blue. (Hickory just laughs and winks, the traitor.)(Hickory secretly really wants Branch to call him ‘Pops’ and he’s so obvious about it.)(Branch finds it hilarious and doesn’t on purpose. He’d actually love to call him that, he’s just being an ass.)(You’d think he wouldn’t ever want to but no. For some reason, it’s only thinking of Hickory as ‘Papa’ specifically that makes him feel wrong. Like that’s not available to him. I wonder why.)
After saving Floyd, the boys all start spending more time together as a family. Floyd and Clay move into the bunker with John and Branch. Bruce still lives on Vacay Island but he tries to visit at least once a week, even bringing his wife and kids with him if he can.
They still love doing shows together and will do a big one every two weeks at least.
A few months later, they’re getting ready to hangout together after a performance in PopVillage. Hickory isn’t with them, he was actually watching with Tiny in the crowd, so he can’t see them.(Lil dude is really attached to his “Uncle Cowboy” and “Uncle Johnny” it’s adorable.)(And yes Guy is close by, Tiny is still very very grounded.)
Poppy wants to introduce them to a former stage manager that she’s worked with before that had come to see the show from TrollCity. Branch has met him once before and thought the guy was weird and a little creepy but nothing else made him feel suspicious so he kinda just ignored it. He figured if Poppy trusted him, it was fine. (Obviously he still kept an eye on the old bastard, cause your boy isn’t paranoid for nothing. And you never know.)
They all agree to meet and when they get backstage… it’s him.
Bold.
The bros old manager. The man who hurt their eldest unimaginably.
JD basically shuts down as his younger brothers immediately shield him from view.
They need to get out of here without causing a scene. Fast.
“Poppy, I think we need to go…” Floyd mumbles, his usually soft features twisting in both anger and slight fear as he stared the old troll down.
Poppy looks at them in confusion, “Wha- but you guys said you wanted to see everything we set up!!” She looks between the brothers and the older manager, Branch joining her as his eyebrows furrowed.
“Sorry, kids, I don’t think we can do that…” Bruce doesn’t take his eyes off of the old man as he steps back, closer to Clay and Floyd who were holding John Dory’s arms and hands to keep him steady in their safety bubble, their tails wrapped around his waist. “Not when he’s here.”
Poppy blinks in confusion. “What do you mean? Have you met Mr. Bold before?” She asks.
The old bastard chuckles. “Don’t worry, Miss Poppy.” Poppy huffs a bit at being called ‘miss’. (She’s Queen, dammit. Only Hickory calls her ‘miss’ and it’s always as a joke.) “I was the boys’ manager back in the day! It’s just been a while since we’ve seen each other.” He looks over each brother, clearly trying to get a look at John Dory and noticeably souring when he’s blocked. Then he smirks, taking a few steps closer, his wooden cane thunking against the floor. John flinches with each tap, tap, tap. “You’ve all grown up so much.”
Bruce holds his ground, crossing his arms and rolling his shoulders, his bigger body blocking most of JD from view. Clay was growling behind him, both him and Floyd curling closer to John and their ears pressed back in irritation. Bruce gives a humorless chuckle. “Heh. Yeah, we’ve grown up, Bold. We grew up and you’re fucking old now.”
Poppy gasps. “B-Bruce, that’s not nice!” She turns to Bold and smiles nervously. “I’m so sorry-“
The man waves her off. “Don’t fret. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He’s right after all.” He looks at them again all smugly, leaning on his cane. “Like I said, it’s been a long time.”
Floyd scoffs. “Not long enough.” He growls, baring his teeth. His claws start coming out and he’s thankful he’s holding John’s prosthetic arm as he feels them scratch the metal.
“Woah, okay, what the hell is up with you guys?” Branch finally steps in. That was so unlike Floyd to say something like that. He’s never seen the older troll that angry before, he’s never seen any of his uncles that angry before.
Bruce huffs. “What’s up is that we’re leaving. Now.” He goes to turn around to start steering his brothers out of the room when he hears Bold chuckle, making them all freeze.
“You all really have changed so much,” He says, his tail swaying side-to-side behind him. John looks up and they manage to lock eyes, Bold smiling sickly as John stares in horror. “Especially you, Johnny Baby.”
John feels sick. He feels like he’s gonna pass out. He feels his legs start giving out as Clay and Floyd rush to hold him up. He feels his body going completely limp and his vision blurs and his chest hurts and he can’t breATHE-
Bruce tackles the old troll, immediately landing brutal hits to the bastards face. He screams between punches, “DON’T TALK TO MY BROTHER!” Bold tries to hit him back, only managing to smack Bruce in the side once with his cane before continuing to get pummeled.
Branch and Poppy jump in frantically to pull him off of the man and the three of them stumble back. Bruce shoves them off and glares at Bold again. He was lying on the ground, groaning and clutching his nose, there were scratches and bruises on his face and he was covered in his own glittery copper blood. “Stay. The FUCK. Away. From John.” Bruce pants and shakes out his hands, flexing his exposed claws. He spits on the ground. “Bastard.” He turns back to his brothers. “Cmon, let’s get out of here.” He lifts JD up bridal style and Clay and Floyd follow him as he starts rushing to the door.
“Wait, hold on!” Branch runs after them, leaving Poppy standing in confused horror at what just happened.
~•~
That’s what I’ll give for now lol
I have like wayyy more written out but I’m mean so 😈
Anyway
Thank you for coming to my ted talk
Lmk what y’all think ig
Check out the folks that created these AU’s plz @matmiraculous and Keebsification (idk their tumblr so plz don’t yell at me) both on AO3 where I found them
Later yall
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daenysthedreamer101 · 3 months
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TVD - s3 ep14
"Dangerous Liaisons"
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First of all, I knew there was something up with Esther! I knew it! How was Elijah the only one who noticed something was off? Like...when he points it out to Rebekah she's dismissive and basically tells Elijah to stop being paranoid. And ofc my man was right as he always is. If I was a Mikaelson I would trust Elijah's instincts, but hey that's just me.
Why was Finn so willing to die? I mean I get it, he didn't ask to be a vampire (none of them did, obv) but you're really ok with dying and all your siblings dying...damn! 😭And Esther, I'm sorry you're such a hypocrite - them becoming vampires was all your fault! and once you saw what they turned into and all the negative side effects you have the gall and the audacity to be horrified...like babe, you were repeatedly told "Don't do this, it's dark magic, don't do it, it goes against nature" and you still did it.
You and your horrible husband literally murdered your own children, you put some dark magic on them (you didn't even know what it was gonna do to them) and then act all surprised when it turns out doing blood magic on someone is probably gonna have a negative influence on the person.
before season 3 I always asked myself (because I knew certain things about the story before watching the show) "After Henrik died, why didn't they just leave?" then Elena asked Rebekah that exact question in Ep 8 I think and Rebekah said "because of our father's pride" (something like that). So Esther and her crusty husband would rather choose to use blood magic on their children instead of just leaving the village and going somewhere else...like, what? 💀💀
If I was an Original, yeah I would also be pissed at my parents. Like you killed me (just for that - wtf, they are literally your children!?), turned me into a bloodsucking monster without my consent when you had the option of leaving, but no, daddy's pride is more important than our safety...I would continue living just to spite you, like ma'am, you don't get a say in my life anymore, not after literally conspiring to murder me and my siblings with our crazy, abusive father. You can both rot in hell!
Love Kol! Love him! He's so sassy and he is a menace ugh love him and he's really cute! 😊😊
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(side note, but all of the Mikaelson brothers have nice voices, yes even Finn, I didn't think he would have such a nice voice. guess I'm just a sucker for a man with a nice voice lol)
7. ok, don't crucify me but I didn't really like Caroline's ball dress. It looked cheap and I didn't like the jewels thing on her waist. I liked Elena's dress more. I think Rebekah had the best dress, actually.
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Also why exactly was Caroline there? Because Klaus had a thing for her? But why? Why was he so interested in her? Also isn't she still with Tyler at this point? And Klaus knows she's still with Tyler. Would she have gone to the ball if Tyler was in town? At the end of the night, she ends up arguing with Klaus and calls him out on his behavior (as she should) so... I really don't understand how she ends up with him. Throughout the entire third season, she kept on saying "Eww Klaus, he's so bad and creepy, ew!" but I know they're gonna be a thing in s4...so I guess I'll just have to continue watching?
Like, I'm sorry to any Klaroline shipper if they see this, but wasn't Klaus the reason why she was bitten? Klaus told Tyler to bite Caroline and then when she's on her deathbed he's like omg let me help Caroline...girl you are the reason she's dying, smh. And that's how they start their relationship..ok 🙄
I think that's enough, if you read this far, thank you ❤❤❤
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lutiaslayton · 11 months
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I’m very much buried under a giant pile of scientific papers due to me having to write my thesis, but I still had to share my joy at today’s random Layton epiphany:
I can finally come to terms with Katrielle’s game and anime existing. In fact, I can come to terms and live peacefully with everything Layton-related existing. Heck, even Cheerful Mystery while we’re at it! Because there’s more than just one continuity and everything is canon, just within the confines of more than only one timeline.
-
Just take Katrielle’s entire series. If you thought that it was taking place after the six main games and movie, then none of it makes sense, if only because Flora doesn’t seem to be here, and the entirety of the prequel trilogy (aka three games and a movie) were literally Thanos snapped out of existence.
In the anime, when Marina shows that Luke made charms as reminders of the cases he solved with Layton, there are only charms for the first trilogy. Nothing about the prequels. Characters such as Emmy, Descole/Desmond, the Stansbury gang, Janice & Melina, are never mentioned, and despite Layton and Luke having disappeared for an entire decade, none of these competent people went to look after them? This simply doesn’t make any sense. If Layton and Luke ever met these people like they did in the main games, then the moment these people would have learned about them going missing, at the very least Emmy, perhaps Descole, and probably the Stansbury gang as well, would have gone on a literal rampage looking for them.
-
But then consider: what if this is an alternate timeline in which the prequel trilogy really didn’t take place? What if Flora, after the events of Curious Village, decided to stay in St Mystere instead of following Layton and Luke to London? Hey, all of that suddenly makes a lot more sense.
In that case though, why didn’t the prequel trilogy happen (assuming Flora’s decision to stay in St Mystere would simply be a butterfly effect consequence of an entire trilogy + movie being erased)? Could there be one single event that could justify such major events… never existing?
I can think of one. One very dark and tragic one, but one that could explain everything.
-
In the Katrielle timeline, Desmond Sycamore died alongside his wife and daughter.
There was no prequel trilogy, because there was no Descole.
-
The Tritons likely moved back to London early enough, around the same time as they did at the end of Last Specter, perhaps because Clark and Brenda’s team never found the Golden Garden and they decided to do something else. Anyway, there was nothing stopping Clark from leaving Misthallery, since Jakes had no reason to change Evan Barde’s will in order to make him mayor.
With the Tritons back to London and reuniting with Layton, Luke probably became his apprentice/assistant early enough after they saved a cat down a tree or something.
There could be a number of reasons why Emmy was never sent to spy on Hershel Layton. Perhaps Bronev felt bad for killing one of his sons and decided to leave the remaining one alone, for a change?
Hershel Layton never got to reunite with the Stansbury gang. Randall is probably still missing, leaving peacefully his life in Craggy Dale, unaware.
Hershel Layton never got to learn about his origins. Roland and Lucille probably ended up suspecting that something happened to the Sycamores, but they never had the heart to tell their son that not only did they hide from him that he used to have a brother… But also that said brother is now dead.
There could be many reasons why either Layton and Luke decided not to take Flora in, or Flora decided to stay in St. Mystere. Perhaps Layton simply didn’t learn that many lessons about the importance of family and adoption or something. He’s just a gentleman doing his thing, and Luke is his only companion.
-
It took much longer for Targent to find the three sites and unlock the Azran Legacy. Perhaps they never did. Perhaps they actually succeeded, eventually, and were wiped out by the golems due to not having been able to gather the five people required as a sacrifice in time.
Perhaps, thankfully, various governments from countries all around the world managed to prevent the world from ending completely by finding a somewhat peaceful agreement (Aurora certainly helped a lot with that, and likely became the human-golem ambassador). Perhaps the golems eventually accepted that an entire planet would indeed suffice as a place to live free, even if that planet isn’t Earth.
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Perhaps the golems are still in contact with humanity and now want to get a job in the UK, because why not.
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lu-inlondon · 1 year
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So, the thing is: this whole Hope!Hob thing has me by the throat and it shows no signs of letting go. Whoever came up with it first please know that I love you and cherish your existence.
Which is why I'm throwing this out into the void and hope (pun intended) someone's picking it up
The first thing with Hope as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept is, that not just anybody can be it. It's such a fundamentally human concept, that only a human can ascend to it. There's no Hope of the Endless just being because humanity knows there is, like it is with the seven that are.
Hope has to persevere first.
Which, of course, makes it even more difficult, since humans tend to die eventually. They're usually not around long enough to gather the amount of hope needed.
See, and this is the second thing: it's not just their own hope, that's important. It's the hope they inspire in others that will eventually tip the scale. However, this becomes increasingly hard with the dawn of every new century that makes the world a harsher, more unforgiving place, where it's difficult to hold onto hope let alone give it to others.
So no one's really expecting Hope to ascend anymore. Surely if they were needed that much it would have happened long ago.
(The Fates know, of course, as does Destiny. They had a lovely chat about it some seven hundred years ago, which led to Destiny giving his sister Death the idea of taking their brother out for a night "to get to know humanity on their terms". He doesn't tell anyone though. That would be cheating and it's far too much fun to watch what happens before him.)
The change is so gradual, that no one will notice for more than six hundred years.
A boy is born, round-cheeked and - his mother insists - smiling. During the pregnancy, all were sure he wouldn't make it, that his mum wouldn't make it, but he clung to life with much more power than his little body should hold. It gave the village he grew up in hope as well. Surely if he could make it in spite of hunger and plague and war, then all was not lost. Surely some of them would survive this.
(Some of them did, but their village was lost for many years. A young man had convinced those who hadn't died from the plague or starvation to live somewhere else, start somewhere fresh where death wouldn't haunt them. He helped them get settled before he himself left to fight in the king's war.)
The boy is no longer a boy but a man when he crosses the Endless' path for the first time. A rare flicker of pride crosses Destiny's otherwise stoic face as the page in the book before him turns. His gentle nudge had been enough and things are put in motion as they should. His siblings are none the wiser.
Years pass and the first strands of hope are woven together. It's not enough yet - it will not be enough for many years - but a soldier giving hope to his brothers in arms is a powerful thing when mud and blood cling to them and death is never far away. He doesn't realise what he's doing but he continues on. After he learns that he really can't die he does what he can to ensure his friends live a life as long and happy as possible. Making sure they don't give up their will to fight is just the start of it.
Destiny's fingers dig into the book as he watches his brother meet the soldier-turned-printer (there's a cosmic poetry to it that only he can see but that he appreciates immensely nevertheless) for the first time. This is one of the few tests during the years they have to pass and it's possibly the most important one. The human has to give his brother hope, has to give hope to Dream of the Endless, who has seen all of humanity and carefully shields himself from them to not get lost.
The surge in hope is enormous that night. It inspires not only the man and anthropomorphic concept sitting next to a fireplace, but the entirety of humans spending their evening at the White Horse Tavern in London. Many of them leave with their hearts light and numerous dreams are fulfilled in the following months.
The next centuries aren't good ones. Destiny knew it would come to that. There's a natural cycle to it, a process of learning that is necessary for the man they are all waiting for. He focuses on himself, the hope he holds is mostly his own as he climbs the ranks all the way to the top only to fall down all the way.
In 1589 it is Dream who loses hope for a moment. He believes he knows this man better than he does himself, that he will give up in a hundred years after he has lived through the worst thing a man can suffer through.
The man loses hope twenty years later. He wants to give up, truly, but Destiny knows it won't come to that. There's simply a need for him to live through this if he one day should give hope to those experiencing the very same.
It is hard, Destiny almost feels sorry for him, but he knows he will endure. Still, he waits with bated breath as the man fights his way into the tavern and lights a spark of hope in his brother Dream that will burn forever now.
The first step is done.
The eighteenth century isn't a good one either. Destiny is bound to his books, he knows what will happen and he knows it will eventually have its place. He cannot change it, that is not within his power but he knows of the regret that is to come.
The man takes more hope than he gives. It diminishes all he had done in the centuries before and more. Destiny knows change will come, that the real work is about to start and he is glad that his brother makes his distaste known so clearly.
For a while things are quiet. The leaps and bounds won't happen until later, but the hope he gives is constant. He's but a single man and even though he uses his fortune to put it to good work, there's not much he can do on his own. But he continues to fight the fight as much as he is able, inspiring hope and newfound purpose one person at a time.
And he's not just fighting on one front. He buys a whorehouse, lets the women live there for free, makes sure they are as safe as possible while they attend to their customers. It isn't much, but it's enough for now when he kicks a john out in his underwear for harming one of the girls. He inspires hope in them too, when he helps those who want to find a new profession.
The hope amassed so much inside of him, that he takes a leap of faith when he shouldn't have. But this too is necessary - so Destiny knows - because it is time again for himself to prove how much he can hold onto hope.
And he holds on tight, refusing to let go. The beginning of the twentieth century is as hopeless as it can be and yet he never was more connected to the role he will one day take on than during this time.
It's stored in the refugees he houses, sleeping on the floor behind the bar himself because he doesn't need a bed. His back will recover. It surges when he leaves to fight only to find his purpose in forging documents for those who need them. There are thousands of people alive today only because he had nearly six hundred centuries to perfect the art of reinventing an identity.
(Many children born after that bear his name, be it Robert or Hope in the language of their parents. It's not much, but it cements his role, the threads of hope weaving themselves into a thick rope.)
The end of the century approaches with shattered and newborn hopes all over the world. It's a tumultuous time and Destiny wishes Hope would already be. He wouldn't be so limited, his powers confined to where his physical body is, but there is yet one thing to do.
The man clings to his hope like his fingers cling to his glass. He knows that Dream won't come, but he refuses to give up, not even after he learns that their place won't be for much longer.
Instead, he builds their temple.
It's as much a temple for Dream as it is for Hope, though he does not know either. Many patrons come to drown their sorrows, only to leave with a new sense of purpose and clarity for their dreams that had never been before.
To Destiny, who still watches with fascination, it's almost humorous. Of course, he knows what will happen eventually, that hopes and dreams always belong together, but it doesn't change his anticipation. He supposes it's a bit like humans with their entertainment like books or films. They know the ending, there's a pattern to it, and yet they enjoy them immensely.
Destiny watches Dream as well, the hope welling up as his raven soars through the cellar and then- But not all hope is lost. There is still the minuscule flame burning that had been ignited in the seventeenth century. An unyielding core, reinforced by defence willingly offered just thirteen decades before.
It is the Fates that alert Destiny when the small flame becomes even smaller even after Dream's escape, relying entirely on others. Something has to be done before the next darkness rises on the horizon and his lack of hope will cost them all everything.
It is again Death, who Destiny gently nudges in the direction of their brother. The books of the Endless are hard to read, even for him, so Destiny doesn't know whether or not his sister suspects anything, but she goes nevertheless. She shows their brother why they are here and sends him on his way to find hope. Or should he say, Hope?
As many of these things do, it happens in London. There's something about the city that's not quite magical, but that draws magic to it. Even humans can feel it on occasion and many seek it out without knowing why. It's great for the supernatural community there since there are so many weird humans there, they can just blend in.
The first who notices that something's changed is an angel in a bookstore. He himself is always full of hope for humanity that he nearly misses it, as an old friend steps in, a smile on his face as usual.
"One of my students, they're looking for a book. Do you have it, by any chance?" he asks, and the angel is unable to refuse his request, as reluctant as he usually is to give his books away.
But he knows with a certainty that is more than hope - almost tangible - that this one book in the hands of a stressed graduate student will impact the world in ways, not even he can fathom.
The angel only notices after his friend is gone. Hope lingers between his books, a golden thread that slowly weaves itself into the foundations of the building. (It causes a bit of a ruckus when Crowley drops by that night because he's somewhat allergic to hope, but he gets used to it rather quickly.)
Destiny refuses to look at what lies ahead in his books. He knows, of course, like he knows all, but it is breathtaking to watch the scale tip as it happens.
The thing that finally does it is nothing grand. One could argue that building the inn and waiting for Dream for more than three decades and the hope for the future of the world it inspires in Destiny's younger brother is so huge, that it is the real reason, but it's not what brings the final change.
It's a chat with a student, nothing more, nothing he hasn't done before a hundred times and more. It's about sweaters and curses of all things, and when the student leaves, she's so full of hope, that it changes the fabric of the universe.
The ascension isn't grand either. It happened so gradually over the last century that even Dream - who shares a bed with Hob - needs another week to realise what happened. He can't believe it at first but glows with love and hope as he comes to Destiny for confirmation.
There's no new realm since hope resides in dreams and human hearts, but he carves out a space for himself. The New Inn is radiating with his power so much, that it draws curious creatures near.
(Hope never sends them away, of course. He is for everyone. Instead, he sits them down, asks them not to scare the other patrons, and offers them a drink. When they leave, the world seems brighter for them.)
Hob himself doesn't really acknowledge the change in himself. The power inside of him is there - as it always was, in a way - and not much else has changed. He's still going to live as long as he can, he will still try to learn and be a better man than he was yesterday, and he will love his Stranger for the rest of his days.
And the part about inspiring people? Well, there was a reason he became a teacher in the first place, eh?
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pips-squeak · 2 years
Text
And All The King's Men
Maybe if the peasant girl’s brother had lived this would be a different story. Maybe if the king had pleased his people he would still be alive. But I can’t change the past actions of others, and neither can you, so I ask that you join me, and allow me to tell you a tale.
On a cold morning, a freezing one in fact, one with icicles hanging from the village house roofs, a young, peasant girl sat on the floor of her cottage and held her dying brother’s hand.
The peasant girl's name was Anya. Named after her mother’s mother.
Anya wasn’t looking forward to later that day, and she wasn’t in too good of a mood to begin with. I suppose that’s what shivering next to a dead fire does to a person. She would’ve been much happier asleep than awake, dreaming of fresh bread and the toy store with colorful banners hanging on the outside.
However, she would have to get ready soon. There was a ball to attend, and her family, consisting of her and her mother, as her brother couldn’t very well walk in his condition, needed to be there.
So, in a few hours, there was flying ribbon and curling of the hair, then pinning it back with clips made of fake jewels, and off to the palace they went.
I would like to be able to tell you that it all went off without a hitch, but as of recent I’ve made a vow as to not lie, so I shall tell you the events that took place that night in full.
First: there was a wizard. He had come to bestow a gift upon the kingdom for lending him their army. Thousands were killed in crossfire, so he believed it was the least he could do.
Something important that you should know going forward in this story is that the king was ill. He had no successor as he had no wife, none standing around him long enough to say their vows.
Another tidbit you should know: The wizard did not favor the king. And neither did Anya, but that is beside the point.
So, second: there was the stone. The wizard’s gift to the people of the kingdom that healed any wound or sickness. Many of the villagers were suffering from frostbite this year, as most of the men who had mined the coal had died in the war.
The game from the wizard was this: the stone was hidden somewhere inside the castle, and whoever found it could keep it, and only they could take advantage of the power, or suffer a greater consequence.
But the king did not like to listen.
For fear of you misunderstanding, dear friend, I will spell it out so that you do not forget.
The king was not a kind man. He was a feared one.
And the wizard knew this, and the king’s people knew this, and our little peasant girl knew this.
And when the wizard left, the king lived up to his name and demanded that whoever find the stone must bring it to him, under penalty of death if taken for oneself.
But Anya didn’t like this new rule. ‘It wasn’t fair’, she thought. ‘Why must we do the healing of you when you can’t afford us new roofs on our houses while you live in this castle with your servants in your cellar?’
She was bitter, to say the least.
So when the king dismissed his loyal subjects to go and find the stone for him, Anya searched, but she wasn’t looking for the king. No, she had others to care for.
Low and behold, just a few minutes after she set off into the winding corridors of the castle, she found the gem, sparkly, much more real than the ones in her hair. It was transparent, and reflected the light of the grand chandeliers.
As footsteps came running behind her, she tucked the small stone into a sewed in pocket in her skirts. She turned away and pretended to look busy while the person ran past.
A temporary but triumphant smile to herself, and then running past the other people searching, through the gates of the castle and back to her cottage.
Inside rested her little brother, frail, with pale, gauntlike cheeks that should have been a rosy pink from the cold.
She knew the rules. But she was also willing to make a gamble.
She brought out the gem, and her brother reached for it, small fingers holding it in a fist. Anya guided his hand to his forehead, feeling his freezing body.
Third: Gambles never pay off.
The effects of the magic were short-lived. All at once, the boy's body warmed, heat rushing to his face and hands and bones. And then it was gone, snuffed out like a candle that had just been lit.
His hand dropped, Anya’s hold being the only thing keeping it from hitting the sheets. The heat left, evaporated in an instant. And he was dead.
The stone fell onto the bed, now a dark, swirling ebony.
Shock rushed over the girl. And then cold calculation. And vengeance. That’s what I truly love about humans, you know. They are soft and caring when they want, some even by nature. But none of them can make it last forever.
Anya grasped the black stone in her fist, and with one last look over her shoulder, she ran back to the castle. She had a gift to deliver.
(taglist under the cut)
@indecisiveaesthetic @idkjustgowithitok @cupsmp @moonlitartist
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Text
Henry V (1989 film version with Kenneth Branagh): Reactions, Part II
let us continue!
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once again, we love us some OLDE MAPS!!!
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“plsssss i don’t want my boyfriend to be executeeeeeeed :(“
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this guy is taking no shit
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tfw your former buddy is about to get executed right in front of you
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“how could you let this happen to me??? :(“
“…did i fucking tell you to go rob a CHURCH???”
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✨uncomfortable foreshadowing in the flashback✨
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honestly, getting hanged for robbing a church is…not out of character for him!
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well at least you want them all to treat the villages and villagers fairly but uh…didn’t you literally just talk about sticking babies on pikes a few scenes ago?
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in keeping with the tennis stuff: the ball is now in france’s court
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well, he’s nothing if not a good catholic boy i guess
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chorus is just like “well! that happened!”
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stop comparing horses and armor and go to SLEEP y’all have a BATTLE tomorrow
or don’t. knock yourselves out i guess.
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once again: royals and nobles have nothing better to do than wander around in disguise! always a treat in media
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calling your countryfolk “your bosom” i guess
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kissing one’s dirty shoe? okay good for you i guess
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yeah y’all shouldn’t be talking so loudly right before the battle you never know who’d be listening
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the elizabethan version of “if all your friends jumped off a bridge would you do the same?”
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and he likes speaking about himself in the third person
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ooh damn this guy’s got a good point (that the king might have some reckoning to do if this war is not just)
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no, what he’s saying is that what if they shouldn’t have died in the first place. keep up, henry
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OHHHHHHHHHHH SHIT HE JUST CHALLENGED THE KING TO A DUEL
(he doesn’t know he’s the king but STILL! DRAMA!!!!!)
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he’s considering…
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“okay but surely i’m not responsible for EVERYTHING in my people’s lives??? right??? RIGHT???”
and the question surely on both of our minds: but where is the line, especially in this case???
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ooooooooooooooooof.
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okay but this brings up a good question: so if his dad murdered the guy before him, it may not be right to punish the son for the sins of the father but uh. is his claim to the ENGLISH throne even legit, let alone the FRENCH throne??? has he legitimized it through his penitence and devotion (in more than one sense)??? much to think about!
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BATTLE DAY IS HERE!!!
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whack whackity whack whack
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FIVE TO ONE?!?!?! oh lord help you all
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oh hey here’s the other thing i know: the st. crispin’s day speech!
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come on y’all KNOW it’s iconic
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“we few, we happy few, we band of brothers…”
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i mean come on. it’s just so uplifting and strong and has GREAT vibes.
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“dude. we do not need to have this discussion AGAIN.”
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can’t help but respect henry right now even if you don’t like him!
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here we go…
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dude how did you just show up in the middle of the battlefield lmao
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“ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck that is a lot of people coming at us at once ohhhhhhhh boy”
also i love how they’re just cutting to all these WILDLY different reactions on all these english leaders’ faces lol
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HERE WE GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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oh yeah i do remember learning about this. how the longbows were taking ALL the french out and how it was an example of important military tech development during this time or something like that
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gotta respect a leader who fights alongside his soldiers
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this is gory and graphic as FUCK omg
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can’t even tell half these english dudes apart but oof that HURTS (are these people even english???)
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sucks to be y’all
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oh hey again baby christian bale!!!
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WHERE IS THE HIGH PITCHED SCREAMING COMING FROM
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oh my god. oh my god. THE FRENCH WENT AFTER THE FUCKING KIDS????????????????
i’m gonna need a sec. hold on. gonna need a sec.
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he gets it!!!
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oh BUDDY 😭
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“I WAS NOT ANGRY SINCE I CAME TO FRANCE, UNTIL THIS INSTANT!!!” MOOD. FUCKING MOOD.
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this, imo, is an appropriate reaction
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reasonable request though
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i mean with all the carnage everywhere it’s entirely understandable to not know what the FUCK is going on
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well at least the english won i guess
but, and i could be wrong here, weren’t they retreating anyway? so either way technically they lost the war. this just means their army didn’t get hacked to bits or something i guess. idk. could be wrong.
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oh buddy…
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did you not look at your map before you came here. it would’ve told you this place was called agincourt
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okay but why is this so adorable
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MISTRESS QUICKLY DIED????????? nooooooooooooooo rip to the “reverenza” queen
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the only french guy in here: wait TEN THOUSAND french people died??????? like, ONE SIXTH of the entire army???? 😳
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ONLY TWENTY NINE (29)????????????
(i mean, presumably the boys are not being counted, and goodness knows how many of them, but maybe they are???)
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his line reading is just *chef’s kiss*
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HENRY IS CARRYING THE BOY STOOOOOOOOOOOP DO YOU WANT TO MAKE ME CRY AGAIN
also this is really beautiful music
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like. there’s so much to unpack here. and it’s a beautiful moment, and some GREAT camera work. 10/10 the movie could end right here but apparently there’s another 20 minutes
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annnnnnnnnnnnnnd i’m crying again
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oof.
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so it looks like war devastated our buddy henry, so maybe let’s go for peace instead?
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flashback time!
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what have we all lost?
also unrelated but what happened to the guy who challenged henry to a duel? i hope he’s having a good day
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ah yes, making a woman your demand. *sigh* yeah i know this is how politics and arranged marriages work, and she seems to not hate him, but still.
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okay but: gorgeous
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this is awkwaaaaaaaaaard
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“i already tried to be the enemy and that didn’t work so i guess…france’s friend???”
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he’s trying!!! and it’s honestly kinda cute
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and it seems like he’s giving her a choice, so good on that
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annnnnnnnnnnnnd there it is!
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ah, peace.
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annnnnnnnd bringing the frame back
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henry may have been brilliant, but…history has a way of complicating things.
anyway this was AWESOME, 10/10 definitely recommend
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tiramisiyu · 3 years
Video
youtube
Tears of Themis: Xia Yan/Luke 【妄夜之魇】 Looming Nightmare - Date Translation
Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Unsubbed Video
Transcript below cut:
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Part 1
Forest
In the morning, a group of villagers walked slowly through the forest’s rocks and mud.
Nearby, a young man dressed as a knight noticed them.
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Luke: Please wait!
The young man pushed aside the dense branches, rushing over to the villagers.
Villager Captain: You are…?
Luke: My apologies for troubling you all. I’m Luke Pearce, a knight.
As he spoke, he balled up his left hand and placed it before his chest, displaying a standard gesture of courtesy to the villagers.
Villager Captain: So you’re a knight. Greetings, is anything the matter?
Luke: I’d like to ask you all if there is anyone who knows where the evil dragon is?
Villager A: E-evil dragon?!
When they heard “evil dragon”, a momentary fear displayed on all the villagers’ faces.
The whispers among them gradually grew louder, and the originally calm group gradually began to lose control.
Villager A: W-why are you searching for the evil dragon…
Villager B: Why are you asking about that beast’s whereabouts?! Are you trying to get it to come over here again?!
Villager B: O-our village, it…
Villager Captain: Calm down.
The young captain placed a hand on the shoulder of the middle-aged man to calm him down temporarily.
Villager Captain: We were impolite. Sir Knight, none of us have malicious intentions. It’s just…
Luke: Were… you all also attacked by the dragon?
Villager Captain: Indeed…
The young man sighed.
Villager Captain: We originally lived in a nearby village. Three days ago, our village was attacked by that dragon.
Villager Captain: The flames it breathes, and its massive wings that kick up gales when they beat…
Villager Captain: That’s how our houses and fields were thoroughly annihilated.
Villager Captain: Many villagers that couldn’t escape were left forever in those ruins.
Villager Captain: But that dragon didn’t stop there. It… even carried off lots of innocent people.
Villager Captain: That’s what happened to my wife and that grandma’s only daughter.
Villager Captain: We don’t even know if they’re still alive.
The young man spoke until his voice faded. The hands that hung on his sides were tightly clenched, like he was trying to control his emotions.
Villager Captain: Like us, lots and lots of villages and cities have been destroyed by it in the past several days.
Villager Captain: Those attacked by it can only flee in search of a temporary safe place.
Villager Captain: We…
Luke: … I’m sorry for making you recall such horrible things.
The young knight lowered his head in apology.
Luke: On my journey, I’ve also heard lots about its terrible actions.
Luke: When I saw you all from far away, I thought you were all normal passersby. I didn’t think…
Villager Captain: It’s alright. We do have to learn to face this eventually.
Villager Captain: Although, Sir Knight, why are you looking for that dragon?
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Luke: Because…
A flash of desolation appeared on the knight’s face.
Luke: Because I’m looking for someone who is incredibly important to me.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
[Flashback]
Fortune-Telling Location
The fortune-teller fiddled playfully with the crystal ball in her hands. The lights floating in the air moved as she did.
With a sliver of curiosity on her features, she lifted her gaze and looked over her visitor, then placed her hands piously in front of her chest.
Fortune-teller: Esteemed Sir Knight, may I ask why you are here?
Luke: …
The knight’s rigid body leaned forward slightly, an unconcealable urgency and distress in his eyes.
Luke: I want to find someone. She’s vanished, and I have no idea where she is.
Fortune-teller: Oh? Find someone? Who might it be?
Luke: Someone… that grew up with me since childhood.
Fortune-teller: Someone that grew up with you?
Luke: Yes.
He released a deep sigh.
Luke: It’s been eight years since the start of the war.
Luke: The day I left for battle, I promised her that I would return home safely and live with her forever, never to leave again.
Luke: But after the war ended and I returned to the village, all that welcomed me was an empty house.
Luke: I asked everyone around about where she went, but they all said that she suddenly vanished one day.
Luke: Only after did I find out that everyone had thought that I’d died in battle.
Luke: She…
The knight grasped tight on the longsword in his hands. The ruby on the hilt flashed faintly in the darkness.
The fortune-teller leaned against the table, holding her chin with her hand.
Fortune-teller: Have you ever thought that she just couldn’t keep waiting anymore, or that she might have moved elsewhere because she thought you were dead?
Luke: She wouldn’t. We’ve lived together for so many years. I know best about what sort of person she is.
Luke: I know that even if I made her sad or if everyone said I was dead…
Luke: As long as she hasn’t seen my corpse, she won’t give up, and she’ll keep waiting for me…
Luke: … Something must have happened for her to choose to leave without a farewell.
Luke: So, I want to find her. I want to know what exactly happened.
The young knight’s voice gradually weakened, until it was nearly inaudible.
The fortune-teller tittered quietly.
Fortune-teller: I understand. Then, please wait a moment—
She placed her hand on the crystal ball. As the lights and shadows drifted, an image of a dragon occupying the plains gradually appeared.
Luke: This is…?
Fortune-teller: Do you know of the legend of the evil dragon?
Luke: Evil dragon?
Fortune-teller: Yes. This dragon runs amok over the continent, scattering destruction and annihilation everywhere…
Fortune-teller: Its evil reputation is now common knowledge among all people.
Luke: But what does that have to do with her?
Fortune-teller: I am unsure of the exact connection it has to her, but based on the image in the crystal ball…
Fortune-teller: You just need to kill the dragon and obtain the treasure chest it protects to discover the way to find her.
Luke: …
Luke: Are you sure?
Fortune-teller: Of course. My divinations have never been wrong. If not, Sir Knight…
The fortune-teller unconsciously knocked a few times on the crystal ball, and a clear sound reverberated in the room.
Fortune-teller: Then you wouldn’t have come to find me, correct?
Luke: … They say that you are the greatest fortune-teller on the continent, and that there’s nothing you don’t know.
Fortune-teller: Which is even more reason for you to believe me, no?
Luke: …
The knight nodded ponderously.
Luke: I understand. Where is the dragon right now?
Fortune-teller: That’s for you to find out.
Fortune-teller: However, there is something that you must think over first.
Fortune-teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.
Fortune-teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?
Luke: Yes, I must.
Fortune-teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?
[Flashback end]
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke: So I can only do as the fortune-teller instructed, travelling as I search for clues on the dragon.
Villager Captain: It seems like the person you’re looking for… must have been captured by the dragon too.
When he finished listening to the knight’s story, the captain gave a quick conclusion.
Villager Captain: The young lady you’re looking for isn’t the only one. In the past while, that dragon has already captured many good girls.
Villager Captain: Many noble ladies and wives in the city weren’t even spared.
Luke: Then… has anyone ever returned among those who were captured?
Villager B: No – no one has ever seen them again after they were taken.
Villager B: Whether the dragon has hurt them, whether they’re still alive, or where they’re kept… no one knows anything.
Luke: No one knows anything, huh…
Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?
The knight suddenly lifted his head, looking firmly at the villagers.
  Part 2
Forest
In the forest, the young knight faced the villagers, his gaze firm.
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Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?
Villager B: This…
Looking at the villagers’ somewhat hesitant expressions, the knight smiled slightly.
Luke: I understand your concerns, but to me, as long as there is still one thread of opportunity, I will definitely not give up.
Luke: So…
Luke: Please, do any of you know anything at all about the dragon?
Villager Captain: …
The villagers looked at each other. The young captain tilted his head as if trying to recall something.
Villager Captain: I don’t know much about the dragon, but…
Villager Captain: Three days ago, when I was fleeing the village, I think I saw that dragon flying towards the highest mountain peak on the northeast of this forest.
Luke: The peaks in the northeast…
The knight looked towards the direction that the villager captain was pointing towards. He could vaguely see the shape of a mountain peak there.
Villager Captain: Yes, but that mountain is farther from here than it looks.
Villager Captain: Plus, there’s also a path full of thorns at the end of this forest that normal people can’t get through at all.
Villager Captain: Currently, not many people have gone there, so I can’t be sure if the dragon is actually there.
Luke: Is that so… but it’s worth a try.
Villager B: Uh… I’ve also heard a little about the dragon.
The formerly irritable middle-aged man, possibly being moved by the words earlier, hesitated for a moment before he spoke.
Villager B: That dragon probably does live on that mountain peak.
Luke: Are you sure?
Villager B: Yes. Two weeks ago, an artisan from the city went with his brothers there.
Villager B: But several days later, aside from a young man, no one in that group returned.
Villager B: That young man said that they were attacked by that beast on the mountain…
Villager B: But sadly, his wounds were too grave, and he passed away a few days later.
Villager B: After that, no matter how much money the city nobles offered, no one else dared to go put their lives on their line.
Villager B: We also…
The middle-aged man sighed.
Villager B: We’ve… given up already.
Luke: …I understand. Thank you all for giving me so much information.
Luke: It’s not that early anymore, and I need to head for that mountain, so I’ll be heading off.
Villager B: Sir Knight, are you really going to look for that dragon?
Villager B: With how massive and brutish that dragon is, it’ll kill you!
Villager B: You don’t know how that young man who returned…
Luke: Thank you for your concerns, but this is a promise I made with her. No matter how difficult the path forward is…
The young knight looked straight at the group in front of him, his voice firm and resolute.
He spoke each word emphatically, answering the question earlier, yet seeming more like he was telling himself.
Luke: No matter how difficult the path forward is, even if everyone has given up, I will not stop moving forward.
Villager B: …
Villager Captain: …
The villagers fell silent for a moment.
A long moment after, the young captain spoke.
Villager Captain: Sir Knight, since you’ve made your decision to go, we have no reason to continue trying to persuade you.
Villager Captain: The road ahead will be difficult, and defeating the dragon is sure to be no easy task…
Villager Captain: All we can do is to pray that you find the one you love quickly and return safely.
Luke: Thank you, everyone.
The knight made a sincere gesture of courtesy again towards the villagers, then turned around and walked into the depths of the forest.
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Plains
After a long trek, the young knight bypassed that rumoured thorny block and arrived at the wilds outside the forest.
Luke: …
Though it was called the wilds, all the plants had long been burned into crisps. Black dust had settled densely over the rocks.
A massive mountain stood at the edge of his range of vision. A dense black fog lingered over the peak, quiet and strange.
At the foot of the mountain, many volcanoes and short rock mounds created continuous undulations, extending to the horizon.
Luke: …
He lifted his head and looked towards the faraway sky. The red light of the pre-sunset sun was harshly dazzling.
Luke: A precursor to the solar eclipse, huh…
Luke: Maybe it really is as the person before said…
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[Flashback]
Villager B: Sir Knight, before passing, that person who returned said…
Villager B: On the day of a solar eclipse, it seems like the dragon’s strength will weaken.
Luke: Weaken?
Villager B: Yes, that person kept repeating this before he passed, so I remember it very clearly.
Villager B: If you really must get near it, maybe you can choose this day.
Luke: … Understood.
[Flashback]
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Luke: …
Luke: Based on the appearance of the sun, the eclipse will only start tomorrow…
Luke: The volcanoes around look pretty unstable right now. Now is definitely not the best time to act.
Luke: I’ll build a temporary residence near the forest and wait for a chance.
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Temporary Residence
In the wooden hut, the knight was in the middle of pre-battle preparations.
Luke: …
He cleaned his sword in the firelight. When his gaze brushed over the ruby on the hilt, he fell into a momentary trance.
Luke: …
Luke: …
Luke: Soon, I’ll be able to see you again.
Luke: Right?
Luke: …
In the empty room, the only response he received was the crackling of burning firewood.
The young knight lowered his head.
The emotions that he had continuously restrained quietly trickled out where no one could hear, under the comfort of the moonlight.
Luke: I’m sorry… I couldn’t contact you even once for so long…
Luke: You must have been so worried during then…
Luke: …
Luke: I wonder how you’re doing right now, and if you’ve encountered any danger…
Luke: Were you scared, facing that dragon alone? Were you injured?
Luke: Don’t be scared, I’ll save you very soon.
The wind blew past soundlessly. In the quiet hut, the knight’s voice became clearer and clearer.
It seemed as if a burning flame had ignited in his eyes. The moonlight shone in, casting light over the entirety of the room.
Luke: We promised that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t leave, and we’d always be together…
Luke: I won’t let you bear everything on your own anymore.
Luke: It’ll be tomorrow… wait for me.
He smiled, his fingertips brushing over his own reflection in the ruby.
Luke: Goodnight.
The knight placed his sword by his side and sank into a shallow sleep.
Just like all the nights in the past many years.
Part 3
Garrison Camp
Troop Leader: Hey, Luke, you returned with perfect timing.
Troop Leader: Just finished bringing over the new delivery of rations. I brought you the letter from the one at your home.
When he saw the person who was placing the letter on his bed, the knight shook his head helplessly.
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Luke: Leader, we’re still in the troops right now. Even if you want to address her…
Troop Leader: Alright, alright. The letter that your wife sent, does that work?
Luke: We haven’t gotten married yet…
Troop Leader: Hahahahaha—
Troop Leader: Hey, honestly though, Miss MC really does treat you well.
Troop Leader: I have no idea how she managed to get that many rations and letters sent over here.
Troop Leader: If I remember right, she’s just a commoner, right? The type without even a fief. Tsk tsk tsk, she really is good.
As he teased him, the leader came up to the side of the bed, jokingly bumping against the young knight’s shoulder.
Troop Leader: Luke, I feel like she’s even more proactive than you. Bring out your knight’s spirit already!
Troop Leader: Though we can’t contact the outside world, I’m cheering you on inside, yeah?
Luke: Thanks, leader.
Luke: Although there’s something you’ve gotten wrong. Though I can’t send her replies…
He layered the letters together, placing them in the closest spot to his heart in his armour.
Luke: This is my answer to her. My heart is always with her.
Luke: The day the war ends, I will return to her side, safe and sound.
Luke: When that time comes, I won’t leave her ever again.
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Forest
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Luke: …
When he saw the multiple letters in front of him, the young knight sunk into his memories.
To prepare for the nearing battle, he came to the riverside at dawn to change the medicines on the wounds he received in the war.
Luke: Back then, I thought that I would be able to reunite with you after the war ended.
Luke: We’d then be able to be like thousands of other normal people, living out our lives healthily and safely.
Luke: But I never thought…
He couldn’t help grasping tight on the letter papers.
Luke: Did you know that during those eight years, I kept thinking about you over and over, speaking on my own, just like this?
Luke: I remember every single thing you wrote to me about.
Luke: You said that the neighbouring auntie’s puppy stepped all over the rose garden at the doorway again.
Luke: You said that the honey that a friend gave you was very sweet, and you wanted to see the bee yard too, but you didn’t go because you knew I wouldn’t agree.
Luke: And so much more… I’ve remembered every single thing perfectly.
Luke: I… really… miss you.
The knight couldn’t help covering his face with his hand, as certain crystalline things fell slowly between his fingers.
A few minutes later, he took a deep breath, then put down his hand.
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Luke: This is bad, I lost control of my emotions for a moment.
Luke: I wasn’t even that sad last night, but maybe it’s because I saw you in my dreams again, so I…
Luke: Now isn’t the time to be sentimental. I’ve got to bolster myself to face the upcoming battle.
The sunlight shone into the forest, past the gaps between the swaying leaves, falling dappled on the knight’s armour.
Far away, the sun displayed a light that was different from normal.
Luke: Is it coming…
He quickly put on his clothes and grasped onto his sword again.
Luke: Wait for me.
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Plains
Because he had already crossed over the forest once, the knight arrived at the plains much faster than before.
Clouds smothered the originally-blue skies. The roars of the dragon resounded nonstop at the horizon, and the air was heavy enough to make breathing difficult.
Luke: …
Suddenly, the roars of the dragon became unusually clear. A massive black shadow rushed down from the mountain peak, gradually nearing the centre of the plains.
Luke: !!!
Luke: This is my chance!
The knight immediately broke into a sprint towards the black shadow.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The moment he arrived at the centre of the plains, the dragon was landing with two young villagers in its claws.
The two people tossed on the round tumbled a few times. Tears covered their faces, and their hands were tightly clasped.
Luke: !!!
Luke: Run!
The knight threw a wooden gun towards the dragon, then yanked out the dagger at his waist and threw it backhandedly on the ground near the forest.
He loaded an arrow as he sprinted towards the dragon.
Luke: Take that dagger and get out through the forest now!
Luke: I’ve left markers on the path. Follow those!
Female Villager: O-okay… tha-thank you!
The pitiful villagers tremblingly picked up the dagger and ran towards the forest as they supported each other.
They passed by the young man, kicking up sand and stone. The two sides of the battlefield changed in a flash.
Luke: …
The knight did not look back to the already faraway villagers. He calmly set his hands on the bow.
The dragon roared furiously at him, spitting a ball of fire.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
The knight stepped swiftly off the rocks in front of him, resolutely loosing an arrow towards the dragon, sidestepping the close call of the fire.
Luke: This won’t do. It’s too fast.
Luke: I won’t be able to dodge at all with speeds like that…
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: !!!
Without giving the knight room to think, the dragon launched its second attack.
It looked again at the person in front of it and spat out a large amount of fire. The flickering firelight lit up the entire desolate plains.
The knight dodged the attack. The winds surged, the glint of the blade shone, and the surroundings continuously heated up.
Luke: …
Luke: This is how strong it is when it’s weakened?
Luke: If this keeps going, I’ll lose all my footholds.
Luke: What do I do…
His brow wrinkled tightly, looking at the dragon that had built up its power and was waiting to attack again. His hands held his hilt tight—
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Evil Dragon: Roar—
The dragon opened its mouth wide, flying towards the young man.
Rocks were sent flying from the intense movements of the two opponents. The knight planted his feet on the shards of rock, both of his hands gripping his longsword.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Want to kill me? Keep dreaming!
As if he couldn’t hear the dragon’s roars at all, he was completely focused on looking for a chance to attack.
Luke: If it’s the instant before it breathes fire… as long as I grab that chance…
Luke: If I can strike your vitals…
Luke: I’ll still have a chance!
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The dragon threw back its head, releasing a long roar towards the skies.
Luke: Now!
The knight lifted the sword and sprinted up to the dragon, slashing down on the dragon’s neck with all his strength.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Blood sprayed, and the massive creature struggled, writhing, and finally spread its wings, flying off towards the heights.
Luke: Don’t even think about escaping!
The young man ran up, and three arrows cut through the air.
Howling winds blew as the eclipse fully set in. On the faraway peaks, the contours of a black castle could suddenly be seen.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The dragon dodged the arrows, roaring in pain, then escaped in flight towards the faraway castle.
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Luke: It all ends here.
The young knight discarded his longbow and gripped at his sword, planning to chase after the dragon.
However, right then, a pattern of lights shone from the astrolabe he was carrying.
He froze for a moment and thought back on what the fortune-teller had told him before—
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[Flashback]
Fortune-Telling Location
Fortune-Teller: Wait.
Fortune-Teller: Keep this with you.
The fortune-teller called out to the young man who was on the verge of leaving and handed a metal astrolabe to him.
Luke: This is…?
Fortune-Teller: If the astrolabe starts flashing, it’s a warning from me to stop fighting immediately.
Luke: … I am well aware of when I should stop.
Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, you do indeed have lots of fighting experience.
Fortune-Teller: But I am the only one who can help you, so trust me, alright?
Luke: …
[Flashback end]
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Luke: …
Luke: Ouch…
The knight frowned in pain, as if he had finally come to his senses from the tense atmosphere, and looked over himself out of habit.
Luke: !!!
The dark armour had long been stained in blood, and some of the parts that were exposed were covered in wounds of all sizes.
Luke: I was… injured this badly?
Luke: Sure enough… that dragon’s strength…
He ultimately decided to stop.
  Part 4
Temporary Residence
The knight closed the door to the residence.
He leaned on the wall, like an injured little animal.
Luke: How could this be…
Luke: Is the difference in strength between me and that dragon that big?
Luke: How am I going to save her at this point… I…
The astrolabe beside him shone again. Then, after a flash of white light at the doorway, the fortune-teller pushed open the door.
Luke: It’s you?
Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, I hope you have been well since our last meeting.
The fortune-teller looked over the person in front of her, her eyes squinting slightly.
Fortune-Teller: Looks like you listened to what I told you. Well done.
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Luke: …
Fortune-Teller: This expression… were you not willing to give up?
Luke: None of your business.
Fortune-Teller: None of my business… haha, do you remember what I said back then?
Luke: …
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[Flashback]
Fortune-Teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.
Fortune-Teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?
Luke: Yes, I must.
Fortune-Teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?
[Flashback end]
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Luke: …
Fortune-Teller: Has reality now changed your mind?
Luke: No. No matter when, I will not change my mind.
Fortune-Teller: Will not change? Then… what can you do?
Fortune-Teller: You must have realized the natural difference in strength between you and the dragon from battling.
Fortune-Teller: It looked like you won the battle, but what are the results?
Fortune-Teller: Even while it was weakened during the solar eclipse, the only effective attack you landed was that single slash.
Fortune-Teller: While you…
The fortune-teller looked at the young knight’s right arm, mottled with blood and some burn marks.
Fortune-Teller: You’re covered in wounds already. How much longer can you hold on for?
Luke: …
Luke: I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t give up. I must get that treasure chest and find her.
Luke: I don’t want to think about anything else.
Fortune-Teller: … Is it worth it?
The fortune-teller went silent for a moment, then asked this question suddenly.
Luke: It is.
Luke: I promised her that I’d return to her, that I’d safely tell her that everything had ended, that we would never be apart from then on.
Luke: I think about her every day, and I look forward to seeing her again every day. I’ve reread each of the letters she sent too many times to count.
Luke: She is my everything. I won’t just give up like this.
Fortune-Teller: … So you plan to seek out that dragon again?
Luke: Yes, and I don’t only plan to find it…
Luke: As you said, I will defeat and kill it, no matter what the price is that I must pay.
Fortune-Teller: … I understand.
Fortune-Teller: Then let me tell you one more thing.
Luke: ???
Fortune-Teller: Do you know why that dragon always flies towards that castle?
Luke: Do you mean that the treasure chest is…
Fortune-Teller: Yes. It’s because the box that it values the most is in the castle…
Fortune-Teller: When it is attacked, it will naturally return there.
Fortune-Teller: In ten days, the eclipse will end, and the sky will return to normal.
Fortune-Teller: The skies before daybreak are always the darkest…
Fortune-Teller: In ten days, when the sky is lightening, the dragon’s power will be at its weakest.
Fortune-Teller: It will also lose the ability to breathe fire.
Fortune-Teller: If you must go, go on that day.
Luke: !!!
Luke: Thank you.
Fortune-Teller: No need for thanks, but Sir Knight, let me give you one last warning.
Fortune-Teller: The path you have chosen is full of the unknown. I hope you will not regret this in the future.
Luke: I am sure that I won’t.
Fortune-Teller: That would be best.
The fortune-teller looked at the knight, smiled strangely, then left.
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After the knight cleaned his wounds, he finally had some time to rest.
Like usual, he stood his sword by his side. When he looked over the ruby on the hilt, he suddenly stopped.
Luke: This ruby… you gave it to me.
He gently stroked it, his warm breath leaving a mist on the gem with his movements.
Luke: I remember on the day I set out, you stood at the very front of those who were sending off the troops, a total mess of tears.
Luke: I was the one who was leaving, but you were even more agitated than me.
Luke: You kept reminding me to take care of myself, to not force myself.
Luke: Then I held your face with a smile, telling you that it wasn’t like I wouldn’t return.
Luke: …
The knight suddenly turned away.
Only when he was able to smile again did he turn his head back, as if everything before had just been an illusion.
Luke: Before I left, you took off a ruby from the mirror you always used and embedded it on my sword.
Luke: You said that a highly skilled person gave you that mirror, and it had magical power.
Luke: Especially these rubies, which represent inextinguishable fire and burning vitality.
Luke: We made a promise together, and then you watched me mount the horse, but I never looked back.
Luke: I thought that I would be able to see you soon after the war ended.
Luke: But now that I think about it, I should have taken one more look at you back then.
A slight bitterness appeared on the young knight’s face, but it was soon replaced by his usual expression.
He laid down on the bed, looking at the fluid moonlight in the sky.
Luke: Did you know that there’s something that I didn’t tell you back then?
Luke: Rubies don’t only represent fervour and life. They also represent love.
Luke: I told myself that after the war, I would confess to you, and let this ruby bear witness to our love.
Luke: So, please wait a little more for me.
Luke: There are still ten days.
Luke: No matter what the price is, I will be the victor.
The knight mumbled as he slowly closed his eyes.
Outside the hut, a black mist rose, then vanished in the silence. The moment that the smoke dissipated, a woman’s quiet laugh seemed to sound from deep within.
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Plains
Ten days later, as the fortune-teller said, the young knight made his way towards the old castle.
But he did not successfully reach his destination, because on the plains under the castle…
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
Luke: Are you here to obstruct me?
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Looks like the fortune-teller was telling the truth. The treasure chest really is in the castle.
Luke: So it must also be true that you’re at your weakest today.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
As if in response to the knight’s words, the dragon snarled in fury. Its massive claws beat heavily on the ground, drawing up plumes of dust.
The knight retreated a few steps, held up his longsword, and stood in battle stance.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
Luke: You sure look enthusiastic.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Perfect, then. Let’s have a fierce battle this time.
Luke: This is the last chance. I won’t let you escape again.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
At the edge of the sky, the black sun that had persisted for ten days started to “move”. The light of tiny stars shone through the air, casting light on the person and dragon.
The knight lifted his sword.
Luke: Let’s start.
Dust flew as the shining sword blade cut through. Both human and dragon soon were immersed in intensive battle.
Their battlegrounds shifted several times, from the plains to the mountain peak, finally arriving to the front of the castle’s door.
The eclipse was slowly retreating, and the dark sky was beginning to show its original hue.
Compared to last time, the battle this time lasted for a very, very long time.
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Old Castle on the Peak
Luke: Urk…
The knight brandished his longsword, pushing himself to block the dragon’s attack.
The originally flat field had already been ruined to the point where it was difficult to stand on. Thunder boomed intermittently as dark clouds accumulated above.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The massive dragon moved again.
Luke: Ow…
Luke: …
This time, the knight’s resistance started to become sluggish.
Scorching blood sprayed out. He lost his footing, falling brutally onto the ground.
Luke: Ugh…!
Luke: No… I can’t fall yet…
He stabbed the longsword into the ground with difficulty and stood staggeringly up again.
He looked at his enemy, his bloodied, dirtied face full of resolution.
Luke: Ha… what sort of battle is this? Just a bunch of mutual killing attempts…
Luke: But did you think I’d be scared? Stop kidding around.
Luke: You have no idea what sorts of emotions I put behind each slash.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Although, you don’t need to know, because…
The knight suddenly brandished his sword and rushed at the massive dragon.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
For an instant, the heavens and earth shook. Dust and sand flew as the world was submerged in chaos.
Only the knight’s shouts cut through the air, transmitting into each and every crevice.
Luke: Even though – even though there’s no way you can hear this right now…
Luke: But, I’m sorry… I’m sorry!
Luke: I’m sorry for leaving you all alone for these eight years. I’m sorry for letting you face the dragon yourself after the eight years.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Do you know how scared I was when I returned to the village, yet didn’t see you at all…
Luke: I was scared that I would never see you again. I was scared that I couldn’t save you…
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Let me see you again, alright?
Luke: Even one instant, one second is enough!
Bang--!
After an enormous sound of collision, the young man was knocked through the air onto the ground, sliding to a faraway cliff, to the very edge.
But this time, it seemed like he didn’t have the strength to stand again.
Luke: …
Luke: Does it… all end here…
Luke: But I… you…
Boom—
A downpour of rain suddenly started.
  Part 5
A downpour suddenly started.
Rain struck against the ground audibly, falling on the young knight’s body, flowing towards where the blood and water had accumulated.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Am I just… going to lose like this?
The knight couldn’t control his gasps.
Luke: But…
Luke: I still… can’t bear to give in.
Luke: I still haven’t found her… I still haven’t seen her… I …
His voice was full of an unrestrained frustration and helplessness.
He tried, or even forced, himself to keep his heavy eyelids open.
Luke: …
Silence suddenly descended.
It seemed like the rain had weakened, and a small sound was resounding through the air.
Luke: !!!
The knight suddenly opened his eyes wide.
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Luke: Is that you?! Is that you, MC?!
He struggled, reaching out into the emptiness.
The black mist suddenly surged over from all directions, winding around the knight’s hand, as if in a gentle “embrace”.
The knight suddenly smiled.
Luke: Are you trying to comfort me?
Luke: Mhmm, I’m not scared. Whether they’re happy things or painful things…
Luke: I don’t care about any of that anymore.
He slowly stood his sword upright, staggeringly standing up.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: I will… keep going until the final moment…
Luke: MC, you are my strength, and I will fight for you until the end of my life.
Evil Dragon: …
The dragon’s movements suddenly stopped.
It looked at the human in front of it without moving in the slightest, and it seemed as if a light had flashed in its terrifying eyes.
Luke: …
Luke: Now!
The knight brandished his sword for the last time, stabbing it deeply into the heart of the dragon.
This time, the dragon did not struggle nor attack back. It remained in its spread-winged posture as it toppled with a boom.
The turbid blood flowed out from the wound, and soon, its breathing stopped completely.
Luke: H-has it ended?
The knight slowly walked up to the dragon’s corpse. After repeated confirmations, he released a sigh, as if he had been freed from a heavy burden.
Luke: Next… I just need to find the dragon’s treasure chest to find you. Wait for me.
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Old Castle Interior
The knight pushed open the door to the castle.
Just as the fortune-teller said, there was a treasure chest placed in the centre of the large room.
Luke: …
He knelt with one knee to the ground, brushing off the dust on the chest.
The moment he opened the chest saw what was inside, he displayed a shocked expression.
Luke: This is…?
A mirror inlaid with ruby sat quietly on the top of the chest.
The knight reached out with both hands, carefully holding the item in front of him.
Luke: Isn’t this the one you usually use…
Luke: Ah!
Suddenly, the gem on the mirror flashed with a dazzling light.
As if induced, the ruby on the hilt of the longsword beside the knight started to shine too.
They shone together, blindingly bright.
Luke: …
Amidst the light, multiple images gradually appeared in the mirror, like a light carousel—
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Luke: !!!
In that familiar village, the young woman suddenly lifted her head as she trimmed the plants, her scissors falling onto the ground.
Her face was full of shock and disbelief. Tears slid down her face, finally vanishing.
Luke: !!!
She then left the village on a journey. She walked to all the ends of the world, as if in search of something.
She traversed deserts and snowy mountains, wearing out pairs and pairs of shoes, and her originally fair skin gradually became rough.
But on her face, all there was, was day after day of ever-increasing defeat and pain.
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Luke: No… I’m here, I’m still alive! I’m right here!
Finally, she arrived at this castle.
Seeming like she’d lost all hope, she collapsed on the found. Tears and blood fell, droplet after droplet, on the ruby of the mirror’s upper part.
Then, a light suddenly flashed, and the girl in the mirror vanished.
The black mist filled the mirror, and a vicious dragon flew out of the castle.
Luke: !!!
The knight’s entire body trembled.
He dropped the mirror and sprinted out the door, as if he had gone mad.
Luke: No… not possible… no way… it can’t be…
Luke: How could you have been the dragon?! No way, I couldn’t have killed you…
At some point, the storm had started to rage again.
The figure of the dragon had already vanished. What replaced it was a figure that the knight was as familiar with as could be.
Luke: No way… why…
Luke: Why!!!
He held the girl’s corpse in his arms, then howled in despair like a wild animal.
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The girl’s body was as covered in wounds as the knight’s was.
The rain struck their bodies, rushing frigidly over each of their wounds, as if mocking them.
Luke: No, no way…
Luke: This isn’t real… this isn’t real…
Luke: MC--!
The knight held the girl tightly. His throat was already raw, and all the light had left his eyes.
Luke: Is that why you stopped right then? Did you recognize me?
Luke: Why didn’t you escape? Why did you wait for me to kill you?
Luke: Please open your eyes, alright, answer me!!
Luke: Why?! Why?!
Luke: Ah--!!!
The rain descended in torrents, finally trickling down to the ruby, which had lost all its shine.
   Part 6
The storm raged, and the knight’s heartrending cries never once stopped.
The air distorted for an instant. Right after, the fortune-teller stepped out from nothing, walking up to the sobbing Luke.
Fortune-Teller: Pitiful Sir Knight, you still ended up at this point.
Luke: !!!
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Luke: It’s you… it’s you!
Fortune-Teller: It is indeed me, Sir Knight, the one who pointed you down this path.
Luke: Pointed me down this path… right, you know everything!
Luke: Let me ask you, did you already know that she was the dragon?!
Fortune-Teller: Yes, I know everything.
The fortune-teller looked at the young man, her voice gentle and tantalizing.
Luke: Then why did you have me find it - have me kill her?!
Fortune-Teller: I had you kill her? That’s quite an unfair accusation.
Fortune-Teller: I am a mere fortune-teller. All I can see is an established truth.
Fortune-Teller: This is her and your fate – you two are destined for an ending of death.
Luke: !!!
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Luke: No way! What fate, what ending – I don’t believe any of it! There must be a way to save her!
Luke: I’ll keep looking. I’ll keep looking. I will definitely find it. I will definitely find it!
The young man clutched at the corpse in his arms and forced himself to stand.
The ground was slippery. He fell one time after another, yet he stood again, one time after another.
Fortune-Teller: …
The fortune-teller stroked the crystal ball, looking at the girl who was gradually getting colder in the rain.
Fortune-Teller: There is a way that might be able to save her, but…
Luke: What is it!
The young man shouted hysterically, but his voice was already so hoarse that he was nearly incoherent.
The fortune-teller paused, then looked at him again, her lips curving slightly.
Fortune-Teller: Simple. Make a deal with the devil, using your life.
Luke: …Deal?
Fortune-Teller: Indeed. As long as you offer your heart, she will be able to live again.
Fortune-Teller: But she will lose all memories of you…
Fortune-Teller: Perhaps she will love someone else and live a happy life, or perhaps…
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Luke: What do I do?
The knight cut her words short.
Luke: Can you bear witness to the contract?
Fortune-Teller: … Of course.
Luke: Tell me what I need to do. We start immediately.
Fortune-Teller: … Alright.
The knight’s resoluteness far exceeded the fortune-teller’s expectations. After a simple explanation of the ritual, he finished his preparations.
Fortune-Teller: Will you not say any last words to her?
The fortune-teller placed the crystal ball in front of her, looking towards the silent knight.
Luke: …
The knight lowered his head, looking at the girl in his arms.
Luke: I never would have thought that our last meeting would be like this…
Luke: But at least you can continue to live…
The corners of the knight’s mouth lifted with difficulty. He reached out, pushing aside a lock of hair aside on the girl’s face.
Like a deep, yet wordless, farewell.
Luke: There are some things that I didn’t have the time to say before, but it shouldn’t be too late to say them now…
Luke: I…
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The knight closed his eyes.
He slowly lowered his head, solemnly and gently kissing the hair of the girl in his arms.
Luke: Goodbye, MC. I pray that your life from today onwards will be happy and joyful.
He looked at her face, looking as if she were in a deep slumber, and said this to her for the very first and very last time—
Luke: I love you.
Right after he spoke, he stabbed his sword into his chest.
Bright red blood covered the marks that had dried on the sword. Thunder boomed as rain fell in torrents.
His heartbeat’s sound gradually stopped.
Fortune-Teller: …
Fortune-Teller: Hahahaha, hahahahaha—
The fortune-teller suddenly burst into laughter.
A black mist gradually wrapped around her. Her body and clothes changed form, finally turning into the form of a witch.
Witch: Hahahaha, what fate, what ending, what deal with the devil? Utterly foolish, truly, ridiculously foolish!
Witch: Although… thank you both. I found this drama quite the satisfying watch!
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
MC: …
My consciousness gradually awakened.
MC: Luke! Don’t do anything stupid!
MC: She’s obviously doing this deliberately! Don’t get tricked by her!
I tried my best to call out his name, yet I anxiously noticed that I could not even make the slightest of sounds.
MC: Luke!
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke’s Home, Third Floor
*Tira’s note: The date itself said it was the second floor, but his living quarters (the background shown) are on the third floor, not the second.
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MC: Luke!
I sprung awake from my dream.
And because of this tiny movement, Luke instinctively popped off the sofa, standing upright on the floor.
I lifted my head and looked hazily at Luke, and my consciousness gradually returned to reality.
MC: …
Luke: …
We looked wordlessly at each other for a few seconds, then couldn’t help laughing together.
Then, Luke gently sat back down beside me.
Luke: What happened? Did you have a nightmare?
MC: Mhmm…
As I gave an affirmative, I moved my body a little, realizing that my arms and legs had become a little numb. My chest also felt somewhat stuffy.
MC: (Huh, was I sleeping in a weird pose? I don’t think so…)
Just as I was thinking, Luke started to rotate his shoulders too.
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Luke: Why are my arms this sore all of a sudden… I’m sure that I slept pretty well…
MC: …
Luke: Huh? What’s the matter?
MC: I figured it out…
Luke: What?
The only reason why our arms were so sore… probably was because Luke was holding me the whole time while we had an afternoon nap.
MC: (So that nightmare… probably also happened because of this…)
I felt both a little frustrated and amused, and seeing Luke’s dubious expression, I couldn’t help laughing aloud.
Luke: What’s the matter?
MC: Nothing, I just hadn’t woken up completely from my dream yet.
Luke: Alright, you’re fine now. I’m here with you.
Luke: If you’re still scared, then should I sing a song for our great lawyer?
MC: Sure!
I knew Luke was just teasing me, but I felt like either way, it would be pretty nice to listen to him sing for me again.
Luke: Then sit comfy first.
MC: Mhmm.
I shifted over a bit, and Luke sat down beside me, covering us up again with the blanket.
Then, he gently wrapped his arms around me.
Luke: Then, what does the great lawyer want to listen to? Twinkle Twinkle again?
MC: Yep!
I looked up at him, and then Luke started to tap my shoulder like a metronome as he began singing.
Luke: Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Luke: How I wonder what you are…
MC: …
As Luke sang, my emotions gradually calmed down.
Amidst this relaxation, I couldn’t help thinking of the scene in that dream again.
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MC: (A ten-day eclipse… man, the weird stuff I come up with.)
MC: (Did the earth stop spinning or did the sun just check out of work? So ridiculous…)
MC: (Plus, how could Luke be tricked by someone like that…)
MC: (Although…)
Though that was what I was thinking, I still knew…
Just like the knight in my dream, the love and protection Luke gave to me was always that silent, yet so etched into his very being.
But unlike the dream, we were now walking towards a happy future together.
I would hold his hand tightly, and I would never let go.
MC: …
The afternoon sunlight pervaded the room, and a slight breeze blew past. Everything was as great as always.
On the storage cabinet on the side, the mirror and sword model were stacked together. Under the sunlight, the rubies flashed faintly.
They looked somewhat familiar.
 Phonecall
Hi! Good morning, are you up yet?
Ah… I bought a medieval-themed game that looks really interesting, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to play it together.
This game also has dual-player co-op mode. We can hit new game records together, just like in the past.
The game plot? Seems like a knight went on a quest to slay a dragon to find his missing lover.
I feel like this story’s pretty remarkable, and the animations done for the fights with the dragon in the middle were done really realistically…
Huh, what’s the matter? Why do you have such a pained expression on?
You don’t want to play this game… why? Does the plot make you feel uncomfortable?
Huh?! You had a nightmare with the same plot? And the main characters were you and me?! And we didn’t even get a good ending?!
Pfft… silly, it’s just a dream, don’t take it to be real.
Plus, doesn’t everyone always say that dreams and reality are the opposite?
You saw a bad ending, which means that we’ll have a good ending. So don’t be afraid, it’s all fine.
Hm… if you still don’t feel at ease, then how about we work together to beat this game?
I’ll prove to you that we’ll definitely reach the Happy Ending!
215 notes · View notes
chimchimsauce · 3 years
Text
Fairest
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Is beauty a blessing or a curse? All of her life, princess YN was told that her beauty was the greatest gift her late mother ever gave her. But when her looks attract a man cruel and bloodthirsty, YN begins to think that her greatest asset is the beginning of her demise.
“Checkmate.”
YN cannot help the grin that spreads across her face as she utters the word, watching as her older brother groans with disdain.
“You always win!” he complains, acting very much like a child.
“That’s because you always get too caught up in the current move, dear brother. The future decisions are the most important ones.”
YN’s older brother, first in line to the throne of their small country Ameris, huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Chess is like war. You get too focused on winning battles that cause you to lose the war. I certainly hope that won’t be the case for our kingdom . . .”
YN is only jesting. Her elder brother is an excellent leader and will make a wonderful king. He’s just really impatient with games. 
“I’m sure I can beat you next round!” her brother says playfully.
They both know it’s unlikely, but YN clears the board and begins to set up another game. As she’s placing the last pawn, a knock comes at the door. One of her handmaidens opens it, revealing one of their father’s special guards. 
YN’s breath catches ever so slightly before she schools her expression back into one of unbothered royalty. It’s always so hard to ignore her secret lover when other people are around, but she knows she must. A relationship between her and her father’s most trusted guard would cause a scandal that would undoubtedly get Wonho’s position revoked. He’s worked his entire life to get good enough for a spot on the King’s royal guard and there’s no way YN would do anything to sabotage that.
“His majesty has requested your presence,” Wonho says, not even looking YN in the eyes.
He’s much better at keeping his emotions in check.
YN’s brother stands, tapping his finger on the chessboard.
“Lucky thing I’m being summoned, or else I would have absolutely destroyed you in this game.”
YN laughs, maybe a little more politely than she would if Wonho wasn’t standing at the door.
“I’m sure of it,” she says, “Feel free to come back anytime to play again.”
YN’s brother nods and leaves her quarters, following after Wonho. Being the heir to the throne means that YN rarely gets to see her brother. He’ll be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time as he tours the neighboring countries to learn everything he possibly can, as well as maintain a positive relationship with their allies. Ameris may be a small country, but it is located in the perfect spot for transcontinental trade and filled to the brim with valuable resources. One could dig in a mine for just a few moments and emerge with a diamond the size of a robin’s egg.
Thankfully, Ameris has not had any problems with its neighboring countries in hundreds of years. The last war was ended by YN’s great great great grandfather and peace has blanketed the region since then.
Well, for the most part. In the last several years, the Eastern kingdom of Moonbyss has been steadily expanding and taking over small, unclaimed villages. They have not breached any borders or broken any treaties, however, so there is no cause to worry quite yet.
YN sighs as her thoughts shift back to Wonho. Their secret love affair has been going on since they were teenagers. At first, Wonho was just an attractive boy who was willing to indulge her wanton fantasies, but soon enough an affection bloomed between them. It’s so hard to pretend not to be in love with him, especially when he grows more handsome by the day.
“Thinking about him, my lady?” YN’s lady in waiting, Irene, asks her.
Irene is YN’s closest confidant and friend. She knows almost everything about the princess. Ever since she arrived in the castle from abroad two years ago, they have been inseparable. 
“Of course,” YN says, standing and walking over to the window that overlooks her private gardens. 
She opens the glass door and steps outside, her skin warmed by the sunshine. It’s an absolutely beautiful day, cloudless and blue. Birds chirp sweetly and the scent of flowers wafts on the breeze. The princess stops at the fountain in the middle of the garden, sitting on the bench and looking into the bubbling water. YN often made wishes in this fountain when she was younger, tossing in coins that reflected the sunlight back at her. More recently, though, she’s only wished for one thing - to be with Wonho. Her father, although he loves her, would never allow a union between them. Her older brother, however, has promised to allow YN to marry whoever she desires once he takes the throne on his thirtieth birthday.
He does not know that someone already has her affections, but no matter. YN is not worried about being married off. While her brother is the only prince in the kingdom, the king was blessed with twelve daughters and YN is the youngest. Every available man of power in the kingdom and the surrounding countries have already been wedded. 
YN has Irene bring her a book to read and she settles in, getting comfortable in her garden. The hours pass by quickly as she is sucked into the tale, but soon enough a shadow blocks her reading light. 
The princess looks up and is shocked to see Wonho standing in front of her. Alarm flares up inside of her. The two of them have agreed to never be seen together in daylight.
“Won-”
“Your Majesty,” Wonho says stiffly, “The King requests an audience. I have been asked to escort you to the throne room.”
YN hesitates a moment. She can tell that something is wrong by the strain in his voice. Something must really be bothering him for the guard to allow it to leak into his words. She wants to ask him what’s wrong, but she never knows who is watching so she simply stands, handing her book off to Irene who stands beside her.
“Very well,” YN says, trailing after him and back into the castle.
He walks three paces in front of her, leaving her to stare at his back. So much about him has changed in the last few years. He’s gained an immense amount of muscle, something that YN has really grown to appreciate during their midnight endeavors. It’s a shame that everything is covered up by his uniform, but she must admit he looks dashing in it.
As they walk, YN notices that Wonho isn’t the only one acting strangely. The various maids and butlers who usually flit around and chatter pleasantly amongst themselves are dead silent, walking with perfectly straight backs and zipped mouths. The princess notices a few pitying looks tossed her way and something cold settles in her stomach.
What’s going on?
Wonho knocks on the throne room’s closed doors. They are ever so carefully opened a few moments later and Wonho leads YN into the grand room.
Her father sits on the throne, a smaller one empty next to him. It always makes YN sad to see her father by himself. The Queen passed away only a year ago and was her father’s closest friend. The late Queen was kind to everyone, even YN’s mother - a poor girl her father discovered in one of his hunting trips. Apparently, YN’s father was so taken with her mother that he simply had to add her to his harem and rarely visited any of his other concubines afterward. But it didn’t last long - YN’s mother died shortly after her birth. Everyone says that she left YN her ethereal beauty, a fact that led YN to being hidden away in the castle for the majority of her life.
“You’re the most valuable diamond in all of Ameris,” her father told her once, “It’s important that few people know of your existence.”
It had saddened YN when she was younger that she could not attend the lavish parties and balls like her elder sisters and brother, but she came not to mind once Wonho came into her life. It mattered not if other people thought she was beautiful - as long as Wonho desired her, that was more than enough.
Standing to her father’s side is YN’s brother. The jolly air that had surrounded him mere hours ago is gone completely now. He looks furious, an expression YN has rarely seen on his face. He’s looking at a man who stands before the throne, a crown placed perfectly on his head.
Visiting nobility? 
The man turns as the click of YN’s heels sounds out against the marble flooring. YN’s step falters as a large, nearly terrifying grin spreads across his face. He is incredibly handsome, but the smile on his face does nothing but creepy the princess out.
“There she is,” he says, quickly extending his hand towards her.
YN, uncertain, looks at her father who gives her a stiff nod. Hesitantly, YN places her hand in the stranger’s grasp, making sure to school her expression as he places a cold kiss that lingers too long against her gloved hand. The princess has never been more glad to be wearing gloves.
“And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” YN asks, careful to watch her throne. 
“King Seokjin Moonbyss, your highness. I must say, the rumors of your beauty do you no justice. You’re much more radiant in person.”
YN’s blood freezes in her veins. This cannot mean anything good.
“Thank you,” YN says, a slight tremble in her voice.
The man has still not released her hand.
“YN,” her father says, giving her an excuse to look away from this man - no, this monster - beside her, “King Seokjin has asked for your hand.”
YN barely squashes the shout of protest that so desperately wants to escape her throat. There’s no way this can be happening! No way! Her eldest brother is just three years shy of taking the throne, three years more of having to tiptoe around with Wonho. No way she can get married, especially to someone from so far away.
“Excuse me,” Wonho says, speaking up from his place behind YN, “I thought King Seokjin was already married.”
Relief flows through YN. If Seokjin is already married, then surely this is an error.
“She failed to provide me with a male heir, so I had her disposed of,” King Seokjin says simply, glaring at Wonho, “Do not question me again.”
There is not a trace of remorse in his voice at all, nothing but anger.
YN begins to tremble.
“Father -” she begins.
“King Seokjin has made us an offer I cannot refuse,” he says, cutting her off, “And besides, YN, you’ll be able to be Queen. You never would have had that opportunity here.”
YN’s father would normally never make this sort of decision, especially not for the daughter he tried so hard to keep hidden.
“Of course, sweet YN,” King Seokjin says, “You are free to reject my offer if you so desire. I would, however, be forced to declare war on Ameris. After all, this country is the most resource rich of all the lands. It’s a shame. It would have been so much nicer to make a positive connection with this beautiful country. I wonder how much of its splendor will be left once my troops march through it.”
The threat is crystal clear. YN has to marry this King or her country will suffer for it. YN glances at her father and brother, seeing the fear that’s in their eyes. Ameris is much too small to fight Moonbyss and win, especially since the eastern country has been gaining a lot of territory very rapidly. YN swallows. In a matter of hours, her perfect daydream has been shattered.
“I would be honored to marry you, King Seokjin,” YN says, trying her hardest not to cry.
She can release her tears once she’s in the safety of her own chambers. She cannot show any weakness in front of this man.
“Beautiful and smart,” King Seokjin says, “It will be my honor to have you as my bride. After all, the most handsome man in all the world deserves the most beautiful bride of them all.”
YN never really thought much of her beauty. She’s always heard it was a blessing, the only one her mother ever left her, but right now it feels like a curse. 
“I pray that you’ll join me for dinner this evening, my betrothed,” King Seokjin says.
“I would love to,” YN says even though the thought of having to spend even a single moment more in this man’s presence makes her want to hurl.
“You best retire to your quarters, my love. Your father and I have much to discuss before this evening. I’ll send someone for you when I’m ready.”
The dismissal is clear. YN turns swiftly and leaves the room, Wonho following closely behind her. She walks much too fast to be considered ladylike, but she does not give a damn, wanting to be as far away from the throne room as possible. 
“YN, wait!” Wonho calls out to her.
He grasps her wrist, uncaring of who will see, and pulls her to his chest. As soon as the warmth of him touches her, YN loses all composure, breaking down and sobbing into his pristine uniform.
“Wonho,” she cries out, grasping him as close as she can, her fingers creasing the silk he wears, “I don’t want to be Queen! I want to marry you!”
YN feels something wet fall against her head. Based on the way his shoulders shake, Wonho is also crying. She hasn’t seen him shed a tear since one of his best friends was murdered on a mission.
“What are we going to do?” YN asks into his chest, her voice muffled, “I don’t think I can bear being apart from you, especially with someone as cruel as the King!”
“We’ll figure something out, YN, I promise,” Wonho says, pulling away just enough to give YN a salty kiss.
“At least once more,” YN says once their lips part, “I must have you at least once more.”
“Your wish is my command, princess,” Wonho says, pulling her along to her chambers.
The two fall into the sheets, both knowing that this is the last time despite desperately wanting to spend eternity together.
On the other side of the castle, Irene makes her way through the hallways, stopping at a grand door and knocking three times. No one answers, so she swings it open, prepared to wait for as long as it takes. 
Maybe half an hour later, King Seokjin opens the door, looking quite pleased with himself. He doesn’t greet Irene, instead instantly walking over to her and pinning her against the wall, his lips meeting hers passionately. Irene barely has any time to catch her breath, but she doesn’t mind at all, too enamored with this man she knows is only using her.
When he was only a prince, Seokjin was infamous for being a womanizer. All too often, he lured servants and noble girls alike into his chambers, whispering promises and pressing kisses against their skin only to leave them abandoned like trash when he grew bored of them. Irene was one of those servant girls, but Seokjin has kept her around for longer than most. A part of Irene is convinced it’s because she’s special to him, but she knows it’s really not true.
Seokjin has been obsessed with YN, the secret twelfth princess of Ameris for five years now. Ever since he spotted her while visiting Ameris with his late father, he wanted her - needed her. After all, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, trying as he might to find another. His late wife was incredibly beautiful as well, but she didn’t compare to YN. No one else was worthy of her but him. It was YN that drove him to murder his own father and take the throne before he was supposed to. After all, Seokjin has never been a patient man.
Seokjin pulls away from Irene, looking unbothered as ever.
“No good,” he says, “Simply imagining that you’re YN does nothing. I’m tired of waiting.”
His words sting Irene’s heart. She tries not to be bitter, but jealousy is a powerful emotion, one that overshadows the genuine affection she feels for princess YN.
“Well,” the King asks her, “Who is it? The one YN claims to be in love with.”
The King rolls his eyes, gripping his fists tightly. How dare YN love another when he’s already claimed her.
“It’s Wonho,” Irene says, pushing down her feelings, “the guard that accompanied her today.”
“A guard huh? How dare he think he deserves someone as beautiful as YN!” he says, furious.
Seokjin is terrifying when he’s angry. Irene tenses, preparing for the worst. Instead of gripping her hair and tossing her to the floor like he usually does, Seokjin grabs a decorative vase and tosses it against the ground, watching as it shatters into a million pieces.
“You didn’t strike me,” Irene says, shocked.
“I have been practicing,” the King says, “After all, it would be a shame to make a single mark on YN’s perfect body.”
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Much too soon, Irene is knocking on YN’s private chamber door.
“Your majesty,” she calls out softly, “Your betrothed has requested your presence.”
YN rolls over to Wonho, tears in her eyes. He blinks them away, wanting to remember this moment clearly.
“One moment,” YN calls out, listening as Irene walks away.
“Run away with me,” YN pleads, her voice desperate.
“You know we can’t,” Wonho says, his eyes sad.
“Yes we can!” YN insists, “You know this country better than anyone. We can get up right now and flee and -”
“YN,” Wonho says, “What about the country? You know we’ll be forced to go to war if you disappear.”
YN sniffles.
“I don’t think I can live without you,” YN confessed, “And if I can, I don’t want to find out.”
Wonho is silent for a moment before he sits up, an idea in his mind.
“What? What is it?” YN asks him.
“What if you didn’t?”
“What?”
“What if you didn’t have to live without me? I’ve heard rumors amongst the staff of a poison you can take that will put you in a deep slumber for a fortnight. If some was mixed into your dinner tonight, it can seem that you’ve been poisoned and passed away. Then when you awake, you and I can disappear together.”
YN brightens. Even though being unconscious for a fortnight doesn’t sound pleasant, anything will be better than having to marry KIng Seokjin. Besides, she trusts Wonho with her life.
“Okay,” YN says, agreeing right away.
“Are you sure, YN?” Wonho asks her, “You will end up getting rather sick for a few days before the slumber.”
YN nods eagerly.
“Yes, anything,” she says.
“Very well.”
Wonho hops out of bed, pulling on his clothes as quickly as he possibly can.
“I’ll get everything ready. YN, go to dinner with the king, alright? I won’t be able to see you after this so as not to arouse suspicion. I love you, princess.”
He leans down to kiss her.
“I love you more,” YN says, watching as Wonho slips out of a glass door and into the gardens.
Unbeknownst to the lovers, King Seokjin is outside the door, his ear pressed against it to hear everything. He had come to escort his beloved like a sweet fiance would, only to hear his to be wife scheming to get away from him.
He’s never been so angry, but he suppressed it, not wanting to let YN know that he’s been here. He grabs Irene by the arm roughly and leads her out into the hallway, bending over to whisper in her ear.
“Make sure to add enough of the poison to YN’s food to keep her under for longer than a fortnight. Put as much of it in as you can without bringing her to the brink of death.”
“Are you sure your -”
Irene’s question is cut off when he backhands her, one of his elegant rings drawing blood.
“Do NOT question me!” he says, “Do as I order!”
Irene rushes off to do as the King says, tears brimming in her eyes. She’s never regretted being Seokjin’s spy until now, too blinded by love. She should have warned YN, should have helped her disappear with Wonho - someone Irene knows truly loves the princess. King Seokjin is just obsessed with her beauty and determined to own her like she’s some sort of object to be bought and sold.
Peeking around the corner, Irene sees Wonho pouring a liquid into the soup bowl meant for the princess. When he leaves and when the coast is clear, Irene snatches the vial from the counter and empties the rest of it into other dishes reserved for the princess before refilling the vial with water and placing it back where Wonho left it.
“YN, I’m so sorry,” she whispers to herself before fleeing into the night, never to be heard from again.
At dinner, YN pretends not to notice the odd taste in her food. It’s obviously been tampered with, but YN doesn’t let it show at all, eating properly and conversing with King Seokjin as much as she can bear. YN misses the look of glee in his eye as he drinks from his goblet, still believing that everything is going to plan.
YN starts feeling ill once the final course comes around. She quickly asks to be excused and King Seokjin offers to walk her back to her room. YN accepts, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own with the  way the room begins to spin.
For the next three days and nights, YN is in and out of consciousness, the world swirling around her in a nauseating mix of bright colors and fuzzy shapes. When she closes her eyes at midnight of the third day, her thoughts are on Wonho and the fact that the next time she opens them, she’ll be free to be with him.
But YN does not wake up. Not for a fortnight, not ever. Seokjin, furious, intends to find Irene and hang her for murdering his beloved before realizing that she’s nowhere to be found. It’s easy enough to frame Wonho for her murder and a matter of hours after YN dies, Wonho follows her from the gallows.
At his request, YN is preserved and dressed in a wonderful white wedding gown, still looking very much alive. He marries her anyway and has her crowned, determined to have her even in death. She’s too beautiful to be buried underground, so he commissions a glass coffin to display her in, putting her corpse in his bedroom where no one else can see her. King Seokjin finds that he does not mind YN being dead. She’s much less bothersome in passing, much easier to fall to his will.
King Seokjin stands before her, placing his hand flat against the cool glass of her coffin. Even in death, YN is the fairest of them all.
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jackoshadows · 3 years
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 “You,” Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, “will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be Knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.” - Eddard, A Game of Thrones
My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I’ll lay you down, I’ll dress you all in yellow silk, and on your head a crown - Arya, A Storm of Swords
“Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them.” - Kevan, A Dance with Dragons
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So this is an essay of sorts on my speculation/theory that Arya is going to end up as a leader of the North by the end of the series. I will split this into several parts:
Arya and leadership
Arya and Northern leadership
Arya and Nymeria
Skillsets
Importance of being a Warg/Skinchanger
Succession
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Arya Stark and leadership
“Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“  - Arya, AGoT
Arya has always been a leader rather than a follower. Just like Jon at the wall, she initially chafes at having to follow orders instead of doing what she thinks is the right thing to do. Despite Gendry and Hot Pie being older than her, she’s the one giving the orders and making the plans. She manipulates or forces characters into doing what she wants – getting Gendry to leave Harrenhal and forcing Jaqen to help her free the Northmen.
Arya took the lead, kicking her stolen horse to a brisk heedless trot until the trees close in around her. Hot Pie and Gendry followed as best they could. From time to time Arya glanced over her shoulder, to make sure the two boys had not fallen too far behind, and to see if they were being pursued - Arya, ASoS
Like most of our protagonists, Arya is ambitious and interested in being an active participant at the top. She wanted to become a King’s councilor and build castles. That entire little speech that Varys gives about the ideal candidate for ruling fits Arya to a T.
Arya has gone hungry, scrubbed and cleaned, cooked and kept house, sewed and mended clothes, bound up wounds, been hunted, been scared for her life – and done all this with limited protection. Just survived on her wits. Arya can wield a sword, is fluent in several languages and has studied with a Septa.
We also see war torn Westeros and the suffering of the smallfolk through Arya’s eyes in ACoK and ASoS. It doesn’t matter if it’s Stark or Lannister, the smallfolk suffer the same – Septon Meribald’s ‘Broken Men’ speech in AFfC embodies what Arya observes. After Arya frees the Northmen using weasel soup and Vargo Hoat betrays the Lannisters, there are reprisal killings, torture and rape enacted by Stark bannermen and the sellswords. The smith, Maester and the head maid are executed for merely serving Tywin – something on which they had no choice. Gendry points this out to Arya and she feels guilty for her part in all this.
“I hate this lot worse. Ser Amory was fighting for his lord, but the Mummers are sellswords and turncloaks. Half of them can’t even speak the Common Tongue. Septon Utt likes little boys, Qyburn does black magic, and your friend Biter eats people.”
The worst thing was, she couldn’t even say he was wrong. The Brave Companions did most of the foraging for Harrenhal, and Roose Bolton had given them the task of rooting out Lannisters. Vargo Hoat had divided them into four bands, to visit as many villages as possible. He led the largest group himself, and gave the others to his most trusted captains. She had heard Rorge laughing over Lord Vargo’s way of finding traitors. All he did was return to places he had visited before under Lord Tywin’s banner and seize those who had helped him. – Arya, ACoK
"It’s not a village, it’s only black stones and old bones. “Did the Lannisters kill the people who lived here?” Arya asked as she helped Anguy dry the horses.
“No.” He pointed. “Look at how thick the moss grows on the stones. No one’s moved them for a long time. And there’s a tree growing out of the wall there, see? This place was put to the torch a long time ago.”
“Who did it, then?” asked Gendry.
“Hoster Tully.” Notch was a stooped thin grey-haired man, born in these parts. “This was Lord Goodbrook’s village. When Riverrun declared for Robert, Goodbrook stayed loyal to the king, so Lord Tully came down on him with fire and sword. After the Trident, Goodbrook’s son made his peace with Robert and Lord Hoster, but that didn’t help the dead none.”
A silence fell."  - Arya, ASoS
"Wolves, she thought again. Like me. Was this her pack? How could they be Robb’s men? She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cry.” - Arya, ASoS
The smallfolk in the Riverlands are caught between the Starks, Tullys and Lannisters with no good choices. And on the ground level, Arya sees this, understands this and acknowledges this. Her actions benefited house Stark and no one else. She understands the cost of war.
Arya is also very keen on justice. In that she not only thinks that characters deserve justice, but she wants to actively participate and deliver justice. She considers the execution of Dareon from the NW as a just one.
Dareon had been a deserter from the Night's Watch; he had deserved to die. - Arya, AFfC
“Guilty!” Arya shouted with the rest. “Guilty, guilty, kill him, guilty!” …
Arya could only think of Mycah and all the stupid prayers she’d prayed for the Hound to die. If there were gods, why didn’t Lord Beric win? She knew the Hound was guilty… - Arya, ASoS
Her father beat her so often and so brutally that she was never truly free of pain or fear until she came to us.”
“Did you kill him?”
“She asked the gift for herself, not for her father.”
You should have killed him.“ - Arya, ADWD
Arya drew back from him. "He killed the slave?" That did not sound right. "He should have killed the masters!" – Arya, aDwD
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Arya and Northern leadership
I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. - Hugo Wull
The North has famously never had a female leader in House Stark. So is it possible for valiant Ned’s precious little girl to become the first Lady Stark to lead the North?
In terms of personality, Arya resembles some of the other female leaders/members of Northern houses. She is bold and forward like Lyanna Mormont and Wylla Manderly. She has trained with the sword and learned how to use a bow and arrow. She proactively engineers her own escape like Alys Karstark. Characters like Ygritte and Alys remind Jon Snow of Arya.
Arya venerates Ned Stark. She follows his advice as much as Robb, Bran and Jon do. Even more so. She executes a NW brother for desertion. And that is important for the Starks.
I should kill them myself. Whenever her father had condemned a man to death, he did the deed himself with Ice, his greatsword. - Arya, ACoK
The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. - Bran, AGoT
“The Starks do not use headsmen. Ned always said that the man who passes the sentence should swing the blade, though he never took any joy in the duty.” - Catelyn, ACoK
“Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold.” Robb lifted the heavy axe with both hands. “Here in sight of gods and men, I judge you guilty of murder and high treason. In mine own name I condemn you. With mine own hand I take your life. Would you speak a final word?” - Catelyn, ASoS
The pale morning sunlight ran up and down his blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. “If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them,” he said, expecting one last curse. - Jon, ADwD
Arya is one of the Starkiest Starks of the whole lot. She is also the only Stark to actually have the Stark look. She is stubborn and determined to do things the Stark way. She often uses her father’s advice to guide her way.
Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“ - Arya, aGoT
Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms.- Arya, AGoT
Whenever her father had condemned a man to death, he did the deed himself with Ice, his greatsword. “If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him go look him in the face and hear his last words,” she’d heard him tell Robb and Jon once. - Arya, ACoK
Now there are theories that it is future Bran who was communicating with Arya through the weirwood at Harrenhal, but she does gain strength from her father’s words when she prays to the Old Gods.
Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice. “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said. “But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.” “You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you.” - Arya, ACoK
And while Arya is travelling incognito, GRRM keeps her connected to the North, house Stark and the Northern plot. She starts her journey from KL with a NW brother Yoren. She’s disguised as a boy like Danny Flint, Manderly requests a song about brave Danny Flint at Ramsay’s wedding with ‘Arya’. In the Riverlands, Arya’s plot intersects with her father’s bannermen, she participates in the capture of Harrenhal for house Stark and is there for Roose Bolton’s war council. She meets both Roose Bolton and Aenys Frey – our antagonists in Winterfell facing off against Stannis in ADwD. She meets Robett Glover – who is currently in White Harbor - when she lets him out of the dungeons. She gets Jaqen to help her father’s men.
“Vargo Hoat’s come back with prisoners. I saw their badges. There’s a Glover, from Deepwood Motte, he’s my father’s man. The rest too, mostly.” All of a sudden, Arya knew why her feet had brought her here. “You have to help me get them out.” – Arya, ACoK
Arya looked. She knew all of her father’s men. The three in the grey cloaks were strangers. Arya, AGoT
Twin towers. Sunburst. Bloody man. Battle-axe. The battle-axe is for Cerwyn, and the white sun on black is Karstark. They’re northmen. My father’s men, and Robb’s. - Arya, ACoK
Harwin?” Arya whispered. It was! Under the beard and the tangled hair was the face of Hullen’s son, who used to lead her pony around the yard, ride at quintain with Jon and Robb, and drink too much on feast days. He was thinner, harder somehow, and at Winterfell he had never worn a beard, but it was him—her father’s man. Arya, ASoS
“I bet there are Winterfell men too.” Her father’s men, the Young Wolf’s men, the direwolves of Stark. - Arya, ASoS
Arya is also involved in betrothals/marriage – first to Elmar Frey and then married off to Ramsay Bolton to hold the North. As a side note, her connection to all these bastards is indeed interesting - Elmar Frey, Ramsay Bolton, Gendry and Jon Snow. Is GRRM trying to say something here?
We now have the Northerners and Freys that Arya sees in Harrenhal transposed to Winterfell and ‘her father’s men’ rising up for Arya Stark.
Now, we can speculate and assume that these Northerners would have done the same for the other Starks, but that’s not the point here. In the books, GRRM has written this story to revolve around Arya. The mountain clans are marching for ARYA. The Northern houses are fighting alongside Stannis for ARYA. When lady Barbrey Dustin points out the anger of the Northmen at the treatment of ‘Valiant Ned's precious little girl’ she is talking about ARYA.
GRRM has Stannis wanting to rescue Arya for Jon. He has Mance trying to rescue Arya for Jon. He has Jon breaking his vows and dying trying to rescue Arya. A large part of what drives this plot forward is that it’s Arya, and her special relationship with Jon Snow influences a lot of what is happening south of the wall. The story only happens this way with Arya in the North. And that’s why it’s Arya’s story and not that of any other Stark. Superimposing this or that Stark in place of Arya to make a case for why they would be leader of the North makes no sense. GRRM writing in the marriage of Arya Stark to hold the North makes the case for why Arya is important to the North.
So, Arya has actively helped free Northmen in the Riverlands, engaged with important Northerners and Freys at Harrenhal and drives the plot to take down the Boltons in the North. With her leadership skills, her ability to wield a weapon and fight, looking like Ned, following in Ned’s footsteps and advice, her fierce personality, her loyalty to bannermen, her desire for justice and to help the weak and powerless, her huge direwolf - she would be like the Kings in the North of yore.  I think the Northerners will be fine with Arya Stark being the Stark in charge.
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Arya and Nymeria
“What if the wolves come?” “Yield,” Arya suggested - Arya, ACoK
The direwolves are an important part of the books, and an important aspect of the Starks.They are as much a part of the Starks as Dany’s dragons are a part of her. They cannot be ignored as unimportant pets who will end up serving no purpose.
“He is part of you, Robb. To fear him is to fear you.”  - Catelyn, ASoS
Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him - Jon, ADWD
“Part of you is Summer, and part of Summer is you. You know that, Bran.” - Bran, ACoK
“Wolves and women wed for life,” Haggon often said. “You take one, that’s a marriage. The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.” - Varamyr, ADWD
You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord…The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. -  Bran, AGoT
“Roose Bolton has Lord Eddard’s daughter. To thwart him White Harbor must have Ned’s son … and the direwolf. The wolf will prove the boy is who we say he is, should the Dreadfort attempt to deny him.“ - Davos, ADWD
GRRM has mentioned several times that they are important.
The Lannisters are always likening themselves to lions, for example, and their motto “Hear me roar” speaks of a certain way of looking at life. But I think for the Starks it goes a little bit beyond that, especially in this generation, with these direwolves. It’s more than just a handy metaphor with them - GRRM, interview
"Wolves have been part of European folklore, of which America's descended, going back thousands of years. In Rome, Romulus and Remus -- there's always been this relationship between wolves and men." That relationship is seen time and again in Martin's series, and it's one that will Martin says will continue as the last two books are eventually released. Arya's wolf, Nymeria, in particular, will play an important role. "You know, I don't like to give things away." says Martin, a grin spreading across his face. "But you don't hang a giant wolf pack on the wall unless you intend to use it." - GRRM interview
The direwolves are important especially for Arya whose theme is ‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’ and there are constant mentions of the pack in her POV chapters. Nymeria is an alpha, a leader of her pack like Arya is a leader of hers.
“She says there’s this great pack, hundreds of them, mankillers. The one that leads them is a she-wolf, a bitch from the seventh hell.” - Arya, ACoK
Throughout ACoK and ASoS, Arya mentions the wolves in the Riverlands. They appear to be just ahead of her or behind her. In her chapters there are mentions of wolves eating people, of Roose going wolf hunting. It’s almost like the wolves are traveling with her. They even help her escape – the wolf howl giving the signal – from harrenhal. And it’s possible the pack was picking off Roose Bolton’s riders chasing Arya because they were following right behind.
She could hear the sound of her own breath, and the wolves as well, a great pack of them now. They are closer than the one I heard in the godswood, she thought. They are calling to me. - Arya, ACoK
Once, from the crest of a ridge, she spied dark shapes crossing a stream in the valley behind them, and for half a heartbeat she feared that Roose Bolton’s riders were on them, but when she looked again she realized they were only a pack of wolves. She cupped her hands around her mouth and howled down at them, “Ahooooooooo, ahooooooooo.” When the largest of the wolves lifted its head and howled back, the sound made Arya shiver.   - Arya ASoS
Nymeria keeps amassing this huge wolf pack and Arya being a strong warg can sense this
She was no little girl in the dream; she was a wolf, huge and powerful, and when she emerged from beneath the trees in front of them and bared her teeth in a low rumbling growl, she could smell the rank stench of fear from horse and man alike. - Arya, ASoS
She dreamed of wolves most every night. A great pack of wolves, with her at the head. She was bigger than any of them, stronger, swifter, faster. And her brothers and sisters were with her, many and more of them, fierce and terrible and hers. - Arya, ASoS
In her wolf dreams she was swift and strong, running down her prey with her pack at her heels. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC
The wolf dreams also helps Arya connect to Bran, Jon and Rickon. We see Ghost able to sense the other direwolves and Bran trying to communicate with Jon.
Nymeria is a grey wolf and the stark sigil is a grey wolf on a white background.
 “The rain had washed the guard’s blood off her fingers, she wore a sword across her back, wolves were prowling through the dark like lean grey shadows, and Arya Stark was unafraid.” - Arya, ACoK
“Arya had her father’s eyes, the grey eyes of the Starks.” - Reek, ADwD
What’s in a name? I have already mentioned in another post, the symbolism of the names for the direwolves and them being an indication of the future for the Starks. Arya’s direwolf is named Nymeria – a Rhoynish warrior queen who led her people to safety. Something that Arya may well do in the future when the North is under attack from the Others.
More importantly, Nymeria in Dorne changed the customs and rules of house Martell to follow those of Rhoynar and allowed for female rulers. Nymeria herself was the first female leader and was followed by her daughter. Nymeria changed the norm for Dorne and we could see the same happening with Arya Stark in the North.
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Skills and Education
Look with your eyes, Syrio had said, listen with your ears.- Arya, ACoK
Education at Winterfell:
Arya was mainly taught by Septa Mordane and received the same education as Sansa. She would have been taught history and about the Faith by the Septa, she can read and write, and is good with sums. She’s better than Sansa at managing a household. She can ride a horse like a Northman and is an excellent swimmer. She knows some high Valyrian. Besides the Septa, Arya also hangs around Ned Stark when he is teaching the boys. Many of his words of wisdom that she remembers is from when he is teaching the boys. She mingles with her father’s men, the cooks, the stable boys etc.
Kings Landing:
Water Dancing style of swordfighting from Syrio Forel.
Harrenhal:
Being incognito allows Arya to move around like a mouse or the ghost of Harrenhal and observe and learn things. She is privy to Roose Bolton’s war council and listens to them discuss the Northern campaign against the Lannisters. We get the first inkling of the Red Wedding in these chapters between Roose and the Freys.
Arya observes the different people, analyzes their movements and figures out how to approach them.
The night she was caught, the Lannister men had been nameless strangers with faces as alike as their nasal helms, but she’d come to know them all. You had to know who was lazy and who was cruel, who was smart and who was stupid. You had to learn that even though the one they called Shitmouth had the foulest tongue she’d ever heard, he’d give you an extra piece of bread if you asked, while jolly old Chiswyck and soft-spoken Raff would just give you the back of their hand. - Arya, ACoK
And as lords and ladies never notice the little grey mice under their feet, Arya heard all sorts of secrets just by keeping her ears open as she went about her duties. Pretty Pia from the buttery was a slut who was working her way through every knight in the castle. The wife of the gaoler was with child, but the real father was either Ser Alyn Stackspear or a singer Lord Lefford made mock of ghosts at table, but always kept a candle burning by his bed. Ser Dunaver’s squire Jodge could not hold his water when he slept. The cooks despised Ser Harys Swyft and spit in all his food. Once she even overheard Maester Tothmure’s serving girl confiding to her brother about some message that said Joffrey was a bastard and not the rightful king at all. “Lord Tywin told him to burn the letter and never speak such filth again,” the girl whispered. - Arya, ACoK
She aids in the escape of the near hundred Northmen imprisoned in the dungeons and even Roose is impressed enough to make her his cupbearer. And the next time, she conceives of, plans and executes their entire escape all by herself. She plans for the logistics – weapons, transportation, people, travel route, what to wear.  She makes sure she is warmly dressed, takes the map from Roose’s chamber, uses her position of cupbearer to manipulate several men,  manipulates Gendry into escaping with her, takes down the guard and leads them away. It’s an endeavor that showcases her intelligence, cunning, determination, ability to strategize and lead.
Arya also shows a lot of restraint and keeps her secrets. She doesn’t trust the Glovers or any of the Northmen in Harrenhal - and considering the Red Wedding, it’s a good decision.
Their captors permitted no chatter. A broken lip taught Arya to hold her tongue. Others never learned at all. - Arya, ACoK
Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. - Arya, ACoK
On the road Arya had felt like a sheep, but Harrenhal turned her into a mouse. She was grey as a mouse in her scratchy wool shift, and like a mouse she kept to the crannies and crevices and dark holes of the castle, scurrying out of the way of the mighty.- Arya, ACoK
Braavos:
Arya’s education here is not limited to killing for the Faceless Men. She is also educated in poisons and languages. She improves on her high Valyrian and is now fluent in Braavosi and other Essosi languages. She learns acting/mummery. Not showing emotions on one’s face, detecting emotions in another person.
“A man does not need to be a wizard to know truth from falsehood, not if he has eyes. You need only learn to read a face. Look at the eyes. The mouth. The muscles here, at the corners of the jaw, and here, where the neck joins the shoulders.” He touched her lightly with two fingers. “Some liars blink. Some stare. Some look away. Some lick their lips. Many cover their mouths just before they tell a lie, as if to hide their deceit. Other signs may be more subtle, but they are always there. A false smile and a true one may look alike, but they are as different as dusk from dawn. Can you tell dusk from dawn?”
Arya nodded, though she was not certain that she could. “Then you can learn to see a lie… and once you do, no secret will be safe from you.”  - Arya, AFFC
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People skills
“I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.” - Sansa, ACoK
Arya’s ability to make friends wherever she goes highlights her people skills. And Arya is able to communicate and connect with people from all walks of life.
Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. - Sansa, AGoT
She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children., Arya, AGoT
Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.“ - Arya, AGoT
Cat had made friends along the wharves; porters and mummers, ropemakers and sailmenders, taverners, Brewers and bakers and beggars and whores - Cat of the Canals, AFfC
Her girls were nice as well; Blushing Bethany and the Sailor’s Wife, one-eyed Yna who could tell your fortune from a drop of blood, pretty little Lanna, even Assadora, the Ibbenese woman with the mustache. They might not be beautiful, but they were kind to her - Cat of the Canals, AFfC
She’s also loyal to her pack. She doesn’t betray Jon even to her father. She helps free her father’s men. Despite Gendry talking of leaving Lommy or Weasel behind, she refuses. And despite the odds, she tries to help Gendry.
It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that they had Gendry. Even if he was stubborn and stupid, she had to get him out. She wondered if they knew that the queen wanted him. - Arya, ACoK
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Importance of being a Warg/Skinchanger
She was the night wolf, no scraps of skin could frighten her. - Arya, ADwD
Since this is a fantasy series, magic is a big part of the story with a magical existential apocalyptic threat on the horizon. The North is the first bastion facing this threat. Jon and Dany both have magical pets and prophetic dreams. Bran is the 3ER. They are leaders or will become leaders by the end. Arya is a strong warg/skinchanger. Apart from Jon and Bran, she’s the only other Stark to use these abilities so far. As GRRM as indicated, having a direwolf is going to be useful in battle – we are going to be seeing direwolves involved in the battle for Winterfell for example. Arya is able to warg Nymeria from all the way over in Braavos. She skinchanges cats and sees through their eyes, when she is blind. She is deft with a sword, knife and decent with a bow and arrow (she could be better now using her FM senses). She would be an effective fighter to have against the Others and her warging skills could prove useful in battle.
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Succession
I’m not a lady, Arya wanted to tell her, I’m a wolf. - Arya, ASoS
And finally we come to succession. This is the hardest part and entirely speculation and we need the next book to get an inkling of where GRRM is heading towards. I am also basing all of this on Hibberd more or less confirming that King Bran on the Iron Throne is GRRM’s ending.
So of the true born Starks, Arya is pretty much last in line. With the inclusion of Robb’s will, we have 5 Starks left. Bran is the rightful heir to the North. Taking him out of the running, leaves Jon, Rickon, Sansa and Arya. Assuming Jon ends up North of the wall – in his dreams the Old Kings in the North in the crypts reject him, maybe foreshadowing that he doesn’t belong in Winterfell - that leaves Rickon, Sansa and Arya.
As for Sansa, again there is a plot significant reason for why GRRM has put an obstacle in her path, allowing for Arya to jump the queue. Sansa is currently married to Tyrion Lannister, a marriage that cannot be easily annulled (With an enemy regime in KL) or ignored like the show did. Robb Stark has most likely disinherited/removed her from the line of succession and named a legitimized Jon Stark his heir and Lord of Winterfell. If he has the support of the Northern houses who want an experienced, older Stark to lead them, Jon Stark could well be the next KITN over Rickon Stark. I don’t think a 7 year old Rickon would object to Jon in charge. So that makes it Jon Stark, Rickon Stark and Arya Stark.
Does Rickon have to die for Arya to become Wardeness of the North? It’s possible Rickon dies, but it’s also possible he doesn’t.  It could be that Rickon does not want to lead the North – by the end of the book, he would be 8 or 9. Of course there’s the argument of a regent doing the job for Rickon until he’s ready. Or, he could just give way to his sister because he wants to. Something similar to Aemon refusing the throne and it passing to his younger brother Aegon.
Or we could have the traditional situation where Rickon becomes lord of Winterfell as next in line, while it’s Arya who is involved in running the day to day affairs. However, that would very much be status quo - with Rickon at WF and Bran down south in KL, it would be men ending up in positions of power everywhere once again, except maybe Dorne. If this happens, then Arya would be a leader of the North, but the Stark line would continue with the male line.  
It’s possible Jon Stark as King could change things for the North. Jon treats the spearwives the same as the brothers of the NW, he respects Val’s abilities, he trusts in Alys Karstark. If Rickon refuses the mantle, it could very well be that Jon Stark relinquishes his position to his favorite person ever, Arya Stark, to be the next Wardeness of the North.  Thus paving the way for Arya Stark to be the first female leader of the North like her hero Nymeria in Dorne.
It would be fitting for the character who introduced Jon Snow to equal rights for women.
“The Lannisters are proud,” Jon observed. “You’d think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother’s House equal in honor to the king’s.”
“The woman is important too!” Arya protested. - Arya, AGoT
Could King Jon reverse Sansa’s disinheritance after her marriage is annulled when KL is in friendly hands? Sure. But we don’t know how the Sansa/LF/Vale group will react to Jon as KITN and whether they will mount a challenge in Sansa’s name. And if Jon has to choose between Sansa and Arya as to whom he wants in charge of Winterfell, we know who it is he will think is more capable and will always choose.
I do think Winterfell succession will not be as clearcut as many Stark fans are hoping. Too many factions supporting the different Starks. GRRM loves to write about dysfunctional families and the Starks are not anything special in that regard. TWoW will tell us of whether there will be any kind of Stark civil war.
Is Arya too young for all this? I predict that by the time we get to the end of the books, about 5 years would have gone by. At 14, Arya would still need a regent – one of the many lords of the houses in the North. But I think considering her experiences, skillsets, a huge direwolf, Ned Stark’s wisdom and strong connections to the North, she will be an able leader. As GRRM said,
“[Arya is] older than some of the 40-year-olds in the book.” - GRRM
Either way, whether she gets Winterfell or not, Arya will end up as a leader in the North. Either she rules for Rickon and takes care of the day to day responsibilities or she does so in her own right as Lady of Winterfell/Wardeness of the North. She’s not going anywhere or sailing off on a boat. The show’s ending makes absolutely no sense for a character yearning for home in 5 books after going on the nightmare ‘adventure’ from hell. She will be in the North, in Winterfell, being a leader and continuing Ned Stark’s legacy.  She will counsel her brothers and build and her people will love her just like they loved her father.
So in conclusion, I think there is enough story, character build up, characterization and set up for Arya to go North and take over as a leader of house Stark to face the threat of the Others along with Bran, Jon, Dany and Tyrion.
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anniebrainrots · 3 years
Text
Family
In which you reflect upon yours and Technoblade’s shared past. 
=============
warnings: mentions of violence (nothing too graphic), slight gore, angst, SBI family dynamic, no y/n 
wc: 3.2k 
notes: i’m sorry if there are any grammatical errors, i really tried my best :,) 
===========
You can’t remember a time when you and Technoblade actually fought. You had always been attached at the hip, you had watched him grow up from a young boy full of ambition and fire to an accomplished man with strong ideals and a fierce personality. That’s one of the things that you had prided yourself in, well, that and your impeccable ability to calm the pink-haired piglin. 
You remember the first time the voices had appeared; he had come to you after he had gone hunting with Phil for the first time. He had mentioned his first kill, how it had awoken something in him, how it almost felt like he had been running on autopilot when he shot the arrow. You hadn’t known how to talk to him through his episodes then, though with years you had learned what to say to not set him off. 
The first time he had killed a man hadn’t been that long after his first hunt. A bandit had come to your small camp in the forest in the middle of the night. You couldn’t have been older than twelve at the time, Techno being thirteen. You had been held at knifepoint, held in front of Phil and Wilbur while the hybrid had gone out to get more firewood when your campfire dwindled. You remember seeing horror cross the two faces in front of you before the grip on your neck had loosened and a man had dropped right to the floor. You had tried your best to erase traces of that night from your memory, but the thin scar on your neck always made a point to remind you of it. 
He had changed since then, an insatiable thirst for bloodlust had festered deep within him, unable to be satisfied. He hadn’t been too good at controlling the voices at that time, and the first time he had lost control in your presence he couldn’t bear to look at you for a week out of shame. It had taken the help of Phil, Wilbur, and even Tommy to talk him out of separating himself from you. After that, your bond with him had only grown stronger. When you had left the family to pursue your own adventure with Techno, you had learned how to talk to him, to ease the voices that always screamed at him. 
The second time he had lost control around you it hadn’t been directed at you. The both of you had entered a tournament for money, and the result had been devastating for you. Techno had gotten his long hair cut short while your wings had ended up getting chopped off. It had been a foul play, ambushed from the back while you had fought another in front of you. Techno had seen nothing but red, finishing off both people before consoling you the best he could. You had mourned the loss of your flight and your precious wings for weeks, not eating and barely alive, according to Techno. He had half the mind to send you back to Phil, doubting his abilities to protect you but you had insisted to stay with him, that you would simply be too ashamed to look your father in the eyes and tell him why your wings had no longer been on your back. 
Years later, even though you still held the loss of your wings close to your heart, you had learned to move on with the help of your companion, finding solace in causing chaos and taking down unjust governments. Naturally, when Wilbur and Tommy had called upon you both to help them with their revolution against a tyrant who had taken charge of their old country, you had been more than happy to come. 
The first few weeks had been spent catching up with your brothers, and you had exchanges of your adventures and their experiences running their country. You couldn’t help but notice darkness festering deep within Wilbur’s eyes, and one night he broke, asking Tommy if they had been the bad guys all along. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you had followed them that night, eavesdropping on their conversation. You had confided in Technoblade, the piglin merely dismissing your concerns for your brother as he urged you to start preparing for the war. You had tried to ignore it, the way Wilbur’s tongue dripped with acid every time he had spoken of L’manburg, the way Tommy had flinched when Wilbur would walk into the same room, the way Wilbur constantly disappeared in the dead of the night when he had thought no one was watching. But you had been, you had always been watching him. 
The day he hid behind Dream, the man that had nearly killed Tommy twice in their war against the Dream SMP, you had nearly taken it upon yourself to incapacitate Wilbur. Technoblade, as war-hungry as he always had been, paid no attention to this, which had angered you greatly. Once you had learned of Wilbur’s planting of hundreds of TNT underneath L’manburg, you had tried to talk him out of it. 
“L’manburg is a fallen nation, birdie. It’s done nothing but cause pain for everyone, so why does it have to exist? You wouldn’t understand, you weren’t there when we built it, so stay out of our fucking business or leave.” The nickname that Wilbur had given you in your youth sounded like nothing but pure venom and ice, and his words had stung you far more than anything else. 
That night, you had approached Technoblade; you couldn’t help but notice how you had been falling apart due to how busy he had become with his preparations.  It had been obvious to you how stressed he was, spacing out more frequently while you had conversed. When you brought up your concern over Wilbur’s plans, he lashed out. 
“God, you’re so annoyin’, always havin’ concern over what Wilbur wants to do or not. The man ran the country way before we even got here so why do you care so much?” 
“I’m worried because everyone’s life is on the line here, Techno. You’re telling me you’d let your brothers fight in a war that will end up in explosions? What about Tommy, you’re gonna let him go through with this? Why can’t you see that Wilbur’s gone crazy, and he needs to be stopped?” 
“I can’t let you do that. No matter what you want, I promised to help Wilbur and if you don’t agree with his ideals, then just leave. We don’t want you here.” For the second time that night alone, you had been told to leave by some of the most important people in your lives. You choked back the rising sob in your throat, letting your sadness dissipate and anger take over. You had marched right out of his base, not a single call of your name from the man you had just spoken with, and you had concluded that that would be the last time you would talk to him. 
You had gone deep into the forest into your small cottage, taking all of your valuables and putting them in your ender chest, stuffing food and all of your weapons into your bags where they had fit. You had taken a few pieces of TNT, no one needed the rest of these items anyways. You had been deep enough in the forest that the explosion would not be heard from anywhere near PogTopia, so you had quickly ignited the TNT and watched as your house exploded onto tiny remnants. A small crater had been left in its place, small enough to pass off as a creeper explosion in the night. 
Your second stop had been to Tommy’s quarters, where you had found him sitting by his bed. 
He had looked up at you in slight confusion, noting your packed bags and outdoor attire. He had wondered if you were going to go scouting in L’manburg and almost wanted to ask if he could come, but you had cut him off before he could. 
You handed him a sword, the first one you had ever made with your own hands when you were barely his age. 
“What’s this for? And why are you dressed like that?” 
You gave him a watery smile, “this sword helped me survive all this time, so I hope it serves you well in the war. And I can’t fight alongside you anymore, Tommy. Technoblade and Wilbur had made that very clear tonight.” 
“What? Wilbur? I’ll go speak to him right now if he’s makin’ you leave. You can’t leave, you just can’t!” Tommy stood to his full height, arms wrapping themselves around your smaller form. You patted his back, offering words of comfort. 
That night, you had left with a heavy heart, and despite your rather unpleasant last experiences with Will and Techno, you couldn’t help but to think of them fondly from time to time. 
That led to where you are now, in the Tundra, in a humble cottage in the middle of a clearing. There’s a village nearby, with wonderful farmers offering you discounted golden carrots for all the help you provided for them in the past 6 months. 
You never did find out the outcome of that war, and something tells you that it didn’t end in celebrations. You traveled far enough that even news from L’manburg would be unlikely to reach all the way here. Still, though, you can’t help but wonder where Technoblade is, if he’s been taking care of himself, if he’s even still alive. You snort at that, of course he’s still alive; Technoblade never dies. 
One day, you wake up with a slightly more cheery attitude than most other mornings. You prance around your house, humming songs to yourself while you clean and cook. It’s quiet, like it always is, and sometimes you find yourself wishing you’re back to the old days, when everything was loud, chaotic, and bloody. The silence, however, is a luxury you never knew you needed. 
Your black cape and golden crown (one that Techno gave you in order to match with him), hangs in your closet, unused. 
You make sure to polish the crown once a week, it being a gift from a man you harbored feelings for since your youth, you couldn’t bear to leave it to collect dust. You sigh wistfully, placing the newly polished crown on your head while looking at your reflection in the mirror. 
You can’t help but notice the way your features have softened, given your lifestyle with Techno over the years, you were almost never given a break from all of the bloodshed. Your eyes are brighter, and your face gleamed with a newfound glow, one that had always been stained by dirt and grime from the battlefield. You note faint scars running down your arms, a brief moment of insecurity passing through you as you remember the perfectly clean complexion the village women had. 
You’re cut off by your thoughts by a rapid and harsh knock on your front door, and you rush to take off the crown and place it back in your closet and head back downstairs. It’s odd, almost no one visits the Tundra, so the very idea that someone is knocking on your door is already incredibly bizarre. You figure it’s probably a wandering trader, a very impatient one sounding from the hurried knocks. 
You open the door roughly and step back slightly in shock. Phil stares back at you with equal emotion in his eyes, he obviously wasn’t expecting you to answer the door. Your gaze shifts to the man by his shoulders, hanging limply with his head down. 
“Help,” is all Phil’s able to say before you quickly wrap your arms around Techno’s midsection and lead him to lay down on your couch. Blood pools around his waist staining your cushions, but you can’t even acknowledge that. He’s passed out and pale, so you make quick work to tend to his injuries, finding him improperly wrapped in loose bandages. 
After cleaning his injuries, the worst of which being a stab wound on his midsection and a large gash on the arm, you wrap him with bandages and give him healing potions to speed up the recovery. With the help of your adopted father, you move Techno to your bed, closing the door before joining Phil on the floor near the fireplace. 
Phil watches you sit down next to him, eyeing your bloody hands before blinking away to stare at the flickering flame. He also notices your wings, or lack thereof, but chooses to stay silent. 
“What happened? Why is Techno like that?” 
He’s silent for a moment before answering, “after the big battle, they reclaimed L’manburg but reinstituted Tubbo as the new president. Techno didn’t like that, so he fought back. It was him against everyone else. After that he fled to escape but someone was able to shoot him down with an arrow and stab him. I knocked the guy out and tried to fix Techno, but I couldn’t do that with everyone chasing us down. So, I took him on a boat and ended up here. Gave him enough healing potions to not die, but I barely had enough. Thank god we found you.” 
You go quiet at that, a question annoying you at the back of your mind. 
“Did he do it?” From your tone, the man realizes you’re referring to Wilbur, and his heart clenches at the fresh memory. 
“He did. I barely got there in time, mate. I tried to talk him out of it but…” he trails off, shoving his face into his hands to hide his tears, “I killed him.” 
Your shoulders slump in sympathy, about to comfort him, “Phil, it’s not your faul—” 
“No. I literally killed him. When he pressed the button, he gave me his sword and…” this time he lets out a weak laugh, “did I do the right thing, birdie? Was I right to kill my own son?” 
You can’t wrap your head around that. “Wilbur’s dead?” 
Phil cries quietly to himself, nodding his head to affirm your thoughts, making you let out a small ‘oh’. 
You’re at a loss for words. Sure, Wilbur had been nothing but toxic to you the last time you had seen him, but that didn’t overshadow the years of love and affection he had given you in your childhood. Deep down, you knew the Wilbur you had seen last had been nothing but the shell of the person that gave you piggy back rides when you were learning to fly so you can experience being off your feet, of the person that bandaged your knee when you had tripped and had been too scared to tell Phil you had gotten hurt, of the person that sang you songs on his guitar whenever you felt restless at night because he knew they helped you sleep. Wilbur is—was—your brother. 
“He went crazy, Phil. Too clouded by his emotions to think straight. He endangered the lives of everyone around him. He wasn’t Wilbur anymore at that time, Phil. He was just a man that had lost everything, too scared to rebuild from scratch that he just destroyed his work so no one else could have it. It was like watching a child who lost their favorite toy. Jesus, Phil, if you’d seen him then…” You watch the crackling fire, words caught in your throat, unable to finish the sentence, silence lying heavily in the air. “He needed to be stopped.” 
The man you saw as your father goes quiet, and from the corner of your eyes you see just how this man aged. Despite being immortal, Phil always had what you called ‘sleepy eyes’ referring to the way he seems to constantly have bags underneath his eyes that made him look sleep deprived despite being well-rested; a trait that Wilbur inherited, and Techno had purely because of his lack of a proper sleep schedule. Tommy used to tease them about it, despite having developed it slightly after his staying up with you, Wilbur, and Techno in the dead of the night to sneak out when Philza was asleep. 
“Guess we’re both flightless now, huh?” You ask after a moment, studying his burned feathers that would surely never heal properly enough for him to take flight. He let out a humorless chuckle, dull eyes closing for a moment. 
“I tried to shield him from the explosion but it resulted in quite some irreversible damage.” He stretches his wings out, barely even a quarter of its original length, black feathers singed and unrecognizable. He gives you a glance from the side, “you never told me about yours.” 
You hum, and your back burns with phantom pain. “I lost them in an arena. A couple years after we left, Techno and I participated in this free-for-all arena and some guy ambushed me from behind and cut them off.” Your left hand grips your sleeve, images of red and withering feathers flashing before your eyes. You feel a gentle hand on your back, and all of it stops. 
You and Phil sit together in well-appreciated silence, basking in each other’s presence after so many years of no contact. A shuffle from the other room catches your attention, you turn and see Techno stepping out of the room, one hand supporting himself on the wall and the other wrapped around his midsection, tight against his fresh wound. You and him make eye contact for a split second before you turn away and he redirects his gaze to Phil. 
From the corner of your eyes you see them staring at each other, having what seems to be a silent conversation before the older man sighs and gets up. He pats you on the head once and gives Techno a nod before stepping outside. Uh oh. You know what’s coming next and you don’t know if you’re ready for it. You say nothing when you hear approaching footsteps from behind you, staring at the dwindling flame in the fireplace. You say nothing when he sits behind you on the couch, unable to sit on the floor because of his injuries. You say nothing when you turn around from your sitting position on the floor to look up at him. 
Despite only being apart for 6 months, Techno sure looks older. Maybe it had been the effects of war, but both you and him have gone through countless battles before and you had never seen his face like this. Grim, serious, unapproachable. Something in his eyes flicker when he stares at you; pity, remorse. 
“I’m sorry.” Techno says after a moment, looking guilty as his facade slowly breaks. 
You don’t know what to say. The Blood God, infamous for his unyielding wrath and immeasurable power, for his countless victories in war, for his presence made to induce fear upon people, bowing his head to you in remorse. Was this the same Blood God that you hear countless stories of? No, this is Techno. Your best friend, your partner in crime, your person. 
“I know.” 
245 notes · View notes
silverflame2724 · 3 years
Note
Happy Prompt (if you feel like it): WWX being the genius/ex first disciple of great scet that he is realizes they can't sustain the Burial Mounds. So he comes up with a Plan to make them all dissappear. Knowing how important lineage is so them, he asks them to give up the Wen name and take up Wei. (The wens are mostly common folk who just want to live so they agree). He the proceeds to hide them among other clans. People who have met and remember all the good young master Wie always did. He hides them among the Jiang and Nie. (I always head cannon that part of WWX'S flirty reputation comes from him helping women who are in bad situations/ NHS somehow finds out/knows and begins to help him. I figure theyhad to get several Lan women out. Mama Lans ghost helps?). JC knows but ignores it, they aren't WENS anymore, so his pride can leave it be. I'm not sure if A'yuan would still end up with Lan Zhan? But then WWX, WN, and WQ all fake thier deaths and go travel as rogue cultivators. But now WWX has all these living and dead people praying to/for him as the patron Saint of lost causes? And he accidentally becomes an immortal without realizing it? To the absolute fond disgust of WQ, of course. Anyway, I figure old Jin perv still pulls his bullshit at a discussion conference and between NHS, JYL, and LWJ? They somehow clear everyone's nsme. And then newly immortal WWX rocks up in there (to the horror of the Lan Elders who now have to face thier own bullshit/ hypocrisy) and lives happily ever after.
I think I read a prompt or a fic somewhere with the concept of the Wens hiding in plain sight.
________________________
The thought came to him out of nowhere. 
It had been a peaceful day with the Wens as he farmed, invented and tinkered with various incomplete contraptions when Wei Wuxian was struck with a thought: they could not continue like this.
Wei Wuxian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that they couldn’t sustain themselves in the Burial Mounds. Their crops hardly prospered, one by one the more elderly individuals of the Wens got sick and died, the resentful energy messed with everyone’s temperament, the cultivators never stopped trying to break his wards.....the list went on and on.
He had to come up with a plan. He thought they could live here for a time, but that was just wishful thinking. 
With this in mind, he takes the next few days to come up with a concrete plan.
...............................
The first task, and perhaps the most important one, is to ask the Wens to give up the Wen name. It would be easier from then on.
As he presented this suggestion, he was surprised by how readily they agreed. He knew how important lineage was to them, so the rapidness of them giving up their name was shocking. 
“Would you......take up my name?” Wei Wuxian asked quietly. 
The Wens were silent before cheering. Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to react to this. The Wens told him that they were more than happy to accept his name since they were his family. 
Wei Wuxian held back the tears and laughed happily instead as he went on to tell him the next plan of action: hiding them in plan sight.
Various people from various clans owed him favors and remembered the good in him, as they were more than happy to take on the refugees he hid away now that they were no longer Wens.
They had to do this quietly and slowly though. It would be suspicious if a large group of people suddenly left Yiling all at once. So Wei Wuxian took each of them to different places. Some of them went back to their original homes, some went to the Nie, some to the Yao, some to the Ouyang clan. 
He even sends some to the small village of women who he helped run away from their horrible home situations.
It was a little tricky with Nie, but Nie Huaisang pulls through and Nie Mingjue suspects nothing.
He sends some to the Jiang and Jiang Cheng grudgingly accepts them, knowing that they are no longer Wen. 
And for A’ Yuan.......He sends A’ Yuan to Lan Zhan, who is familiar with A’ Yuan. Wei Wuxian sends a letter to Lan Zhan asking him to meet and instead of appearing, A’ Yuan is there in his stead. The letter to Lan Zhan details what to do with A’ Yuan and to hide his identity.
Wei Wuxian trusts that Lan Zhan would take his suggestion and tell his brother and uncle that A’ Yuan was a child that Lan Zhan was asked to take care of by a dying mother.
Wei Wuxian watches from afar as Lan Zhan takes A’ Yuan away and takes the last step in ensuring that the cultivation world forgets him: He fakes his, Wen Qing’s and Wen Ning’s deaths. There’s enough corpses in the Burial Mounds and ones with their physique to replace the Wens and him. He gossips to the town that he’s going to destroy his weapon, the Seal, and subsequently fakes an explosion of resentment, quickly disappearing with the Wen siblings to a random direction. 
He always thought how nice it would be to be like his parents and be rogue cultivators. He guesses that he’ll find out now.
..................................
Years pass and Wei Wuxian makes decent salary by taking care of monsters in the area. Wen Qing is a doctor, of course, and Wen Ning becomes her assistant.  
They move to a little village near Dongying and settle down there. The people there a little more open to demonic cultivation and dark arts and don’t bat an eye at Wei Wuxian using such means. 
Wei Wuxian invents more contraptions, selling them under a false name in towns far away from Dongying.
One day, on a chance night hunt near Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian hears whispers and gossip about Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli clearing his name and capturing the actual people responsible. 
He’s happy to hear this. Overjoyed. But that doesn’t mean he’ll gladly return to the cultivation world. He’s had enough of that life. 
He walks around town for a bit longer, catching bits of gossip here and there. As explores the town, wine jug in hand, he nearly chokes around a mouthful of wine as he sees a small shrine encasing a statue of his likeness. What.....the hell??
He quickly asks around and finds out that people are praying to him for protection. Wei Wuxian squirms a little at this, glad he’s wearing a weimao to cover his face. 
All of this...praying makes him uncomfortable. Not long ago, people were spitting on his name and now he’s suddenly become some sort of Patron for protection? The change is remarkable and cements Wei Wuxian’s decision to firmly stay out of the cultivation world. 
People’s opinions change like a tide and Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to stick around long enough for them to switch back. He sighs, disposing of his empty jug, and leaves the town.
.......
Surprisingly, that’s not the end of the changes. 
He got careless on a night hunt and ends up with the claw of a yaoguai piercing him all the way through his stomach. When the yaoguai pulled out its claw, though......Wei Wuxian healed quickly. Too quickly.
He recovers from the shock at this and finishes off the yao.
What just happened?
.
.
A quick trip to Wen Qing answered everything.
“Congratulations.” Wen Qing says dryly. “You’re an immortal.”
“........What.”
Wen Qing sighs, “From what you told me, you healed unnaturally quickly, right?”
Wei Wuxian nods. 
“There have only been records of immortals recovering that quickly. Even Wen Ruohan healed slower than you did.”
“But I don’t have a core???”
“You do. Sort of.” Wen Qing replies. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t you felt it.”
“.....” I mean, I did think it was odd that I didn’t freeze to death in the winter or die of hunger when money became tight over these years, but I thought those were side effects of demonic cultivation! Wei Wuxian quickly goes through the motions of feeling for his core, willing the surge of hope he felt down. 
And he......didn’t feel a core. He felt more of a large mass of energy congregated in his dantian.
Wei Wuxian is glad that he is sitting down right now because he feels very faint.  “But.....this......how?” 
“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve become some sort of Patron Saint?” Wei Wuxian nods. “It’s rare, but cultivators can gain power from prayers. Take Wen Ruohan for example.”
“He became powerful through the same means?”
“Yes. Well, his people believed him to be all powerful, not so much as what people are praying to you. As the Sunshot alliance chipped down on his people, so too did they chip down on Wen Ruohan’s power.”
“So if people stop praying to me, I’ll stop being immortal.”
“Yes and no. Right now, there’s just a mass of energy concentrated there. It’s basically unrefined energy. All you have to do is refine that power into a core and cultivate normally. Otherwise, yes. You will lose this power as soon as people stop praying to you.”
“I see.......”
Wen Qing raises an eyebrow and brandishes her needles. “What are you doing just sitting here? Go and cultivate!”
“Aiya, Qing-jie! I’m in shock here, give me a moment to absorb this all!”
“I have patients to see! Get your ass to your room and cultivate!”
“Are you my mom or something?”
Wen Qing’s expression turns thunderous.
Wei Wuxian didn’t want to provoke her any further despite wanting to banter more and left to his room.
..................................
“You should visit your siblings.” Wen Qing says one day. “And Hanguang-Jun. I want to hear about how A’ Yuan is doing.”
“Where did this come from?”
“Wei Wuxian.” Wen Qing says patiently. “It’s been over a decade. Your name and our name has long since been cleared. People no longer hate you. And.....they miss you. Your siblings have commemorated the day you “died” and go into mourning for that day. Hanguang-Jun is a little subtler but he wears a mourning sash now.”
“They’ll be better off without me.”
“Says who?”
“The rest of the world.” Wei Wuxian says weakly.
“And why should you care for their opinion? You never seemed to mind it.”
“Ummm.....Lan Zhan hates me? Jiang Cheng might resent me? And Shij---Jiang-guniang---the Young Madam Jin has a life already.”
“First, if Hanguang-Jun hates you, why would he frequently glare at people who badmouthed you?”
“Because he’s a good person. How do you know this anyway?”
“I have friends. Try again. Hanguang-Jun is a famously reticent person. Would he do this for every person?”
“.........I don’t know.”
“The answer is no.”
Wei Wuxian pouts.
Wen Qing then begins to tell him how Jiang Cheng frequently takes demonic cultivators back with him in hopes that one of them would be Wei Wuxian and even added Wei Wuxian back to the Jiang sect register. Jiang Yanli smiles while ruthlessly talking people into apologizing every time she hears something bad said about Wei Wuxian.
She even lectures him on his feelings towards Lan Wangji, that he would entrust A’ Yuan to him.
Wen Qing closes off her speech with threats of her needles if Wei Wuxian doesn’t get his ass over there.
“There’s a Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, wait till they’re done and go meet them.”
Wei Wuxian, sufficiently threatened, hightails it back to what was his home.
.......
Wei Wuxian also decidedly forgets that he was supposed to wait for the Conference to end. Well, he had assumed that they would be done considering the empty state of the area in front of the conference room and stupidly bursts through the door to a room full of people.
Wei Wuxian blinks, “Uhh......”
“Wei Wuxian?!”
“Wei Ying?!”
“A’ Xian?!”
Wei Wuxian tittered from side to side, “Hello, all! I bet you thought I was dead! Well, you guessed wrong! Hahaha......”
..............................
Lan Wangji did not know what this time’s discussion conference would be like. He expected Jin Guangshan to try and subtly slander Wei Ying. He expected Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin and himself to stand up for Wei Ying, as he was unable to do before Wei Ying died.
But he certainly didn’t expect Wei Ying, who he thought was dead, burst into the room.
Everyone was silent as soon as they heard Wei Ying speak, but soon burst into a cacophony of noise.
Continuing the Discussion Conference was futile after that and it was quickly closed. Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying be surrounded by many people, some crying, some happily angry, some exasperated and he couldn’t help his reaction after seeing him once again.
He rushes forward and hugs him.
“Wha--Lan Zhan?”
“You’re alive.” Lan Wangji breathes, voice full of wonder. “You’re alive.”
Wei Ying’s arms come up around him and Lan Wangji feels the strong heart beat through their robes. His elders yell at him for his shamelessness and he comes back to himself, embarrassed at his lack of control.
“Aww, Lan Zhan! I’m so glad you missed me!”
“Mn. Missed Wei Ying a lot.”
A slight blush rose to Wei Ying’s cheeks and he laughed, a little shy. Lan Wangji couldn’t help his response to hearing his laugh again after so, so long. He kissed him.
The crowd gasped around them and Lan Wangji pulled back quickly, wanting the ground to swallow him up. But then......Wei Ying kissed him back.
“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How bold of you! To steal a kiss from me in public!” He giggles, not seeming mad at all and even pressing forward, tangling his fingers in his forehead ribbon.
Lan Wangji’s breath stutters at the gesture.
“You’d better take responsibility!”
Is Wei Ying asking what I think he’s asking? “Responsibility?”
“Yes! You took a kiss from me in public! It looks like I can’t marry anymore.”
“Will marry Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji replies, voice hoarse, ignoring the cries of outrage from his elders, the angry shouts from Jiang Wanyin, and the smirks from Jiang Yanli and his brother. “Will take responsibility.”
“I hope that isn’t the only reason.”
This is his chance to come clean. Lan Wangji already told himself that he wouldn’t hold himself back if he met Wei Ying again. “Like Wei Ying. Love Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying laughs brightly. “I like Lan Zhan too. Now, you’ll finally admit we’re close?”
Lan Wangji ignores everyone, eyes only on Wei Ying as they should have always been, “Mn. Let’s get married.”
___________________________
I feel like Lan Wangji may be a bit OOC......hmm. Well, whatever. I finally got this done and with that, I think I’ve cleared all the prompts I haven’t answered, so asks will open up again!
Hope you all enjoyed this!
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Chronicles of Galar - Chapter 3: A loss & Gain of trust
This chapter is kinda sad at first. As a warning, a minor (and non-canon) character death that hit you hard and you don’t know what to do.. then you meet Leon and everything changes. Your level of friendship increases and he gives you comfort in a way, no other person would ever be able to give you. Comfort!Fluff.
"[Y/n]..", Cynthia's voice was sad and battered and that alerted you directly. Cynthia rarely called, and only when it was important or bad news. Her pitched voice suggested the worst. "I hate to have to say something like that over the phone .. ... Grandmother died .."
Your eyes widened and tears began to run down your cheeks. You had expected all sorts of things, but this news threw you completely off the mark.
"W-what ..? W-How ..? She was very healthy and not yet that old .. ", you mumbled sadly and clutched your smartphone tightly while more tears ran down your face. Professor Carolina, the village elder of Celestic Town and grandmother of Cynthia, was like a mother to you. Carolina had cared for you since the beginning of your trainer career. Since you lived in Sinnoh for several years and lived with her, the two of you cultivated such an intimate and harmonious relationship. Her death news had torn the ground from under your feet.
"She had a heart attack .. Caused by an allergic reaction after she had been exposed to the poison of an aggressive Roserade .. Roserades release a special toxin that has so far remained undiscovered by researchers, as they only eliminate it when they are really feel cornered and have to protect their offspring .. Grandmother had found a nest and wanted to study it from a safe distance, but one of the Roserades has lost its nerve. She fought for survival in the hospital for days, but .. ", Cynthia said and could no longer speak through her own tears .
"For days ...? And you call me NOW ..? Cynthia, I would have left everything and gone to Sinnoh .. "
"I didn't wanted to ruin your adventure in Galar. None of us expected that Grandmother ... would not survive .. The doctors also said at first that she was recovering nicely, but then her condition deteriorated so rapidly .... And then I was just too occupied and sad that I forgot to call you earlier. I am so sorry.."
You felt terrible. Not only because of the loss, but also because you screamed at Cynthia like this for not letting you know sooner. "Don't apologize .. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh .. I .. can't believe it .." you mumbled sadly and wiped your face.
"We all feel that way in Celestia Town.. Believe me .. The .. funeral is next week .. on Wednesday ... Are .. are you coming ..? "
"Of course I'll come .. Cynthia, thanks for everything you've done for me. I'll never forget Carolina .. I'll see you on Wednesday .. I love you, big sister, okay ..? "
"I love you too, little sister .. take good care of yourself."
With these words, Cynthia hung up and you dropped to your knees to completely give in to your emotions. You were crying so loud that your brother and his fiancée ran from the study straight to your room and wanted to know what was going on.
It wasn't long before you felt overwhelmed by the comforting hugs and words of your real family. You gently pushed the two of them away and stood up. "Sorry .. But I would like to be alone for a moment .. I'll go for a walk ..", you said and walked to the door.
"Now..? Do you took a look outside? It's raining cats and dogs. Take an umbrella with you at least. ", Aki said , worried and crossed her arms.
"I don't mind .. It's just water .. I'll .. I'll come back later, okay ..?", You smiled sadly and raised your hand to say goodbye before you just stormed out into the rain. Aki shook her head and collapsed onto the hotel couch. You and them currently stayed in Motostoke.
“I never realized how close the relationship was between her and Professor Carolina. Her death hits her as hard as if a family member had died. ", Aki said quietly.
"She was a family member for her." Mamoru began sadly. “When [Y/n] lived in Sinnoh after our parents started to argue daily, the professor behaved like a mother to her. She raised [Y/n] without hesitation, and became more or less like a little sister to Cynthia. Professor Carolina was the caring mother, our mother couldn't be at that time. So I understand that her death takes [Y/n] with it ... ", he explained.
"Shouldn't we then follow her and be there for her?", Aki insisted. Mamoru shook his head slightly.
"No. She said she wants to be alone. My sister is strong. She won't do anything stupid. Let's give her some time. And when she has recovered, she will come back and then we can still be there for her. ", he smiled confidently.
"If she hasn't caught pneumonia by then.", Aki sighed slightly. Mamoru smiled sadly.
“Then we mustn't blame her. This is what she needs least of all at the moment. "
You ran around aimlessly in the rain for a few minutes until you lost your strength and sat down on a wet bench. Your clothes were soaked and your hair was stuck to your face so that you could barely see anything. But you didn't really care about that at the moment. You pulled back your knees and put your arms around them as you leaned your head on your drawn knees and sobbed softly into them. You couldn't even say goodbye to Carolina .. You wanted to tell her so much, show her so much .. So many things were unsaid .. For example, how grateful you were that she welcomed you so warmly .. How much you appreciated you had learned and how much you  loved to bake Christmas cookies with her one last time .. that was all over now. That thought just didn't go into your head.
Minutes passed. The minutes turned into hours and the rain just wouldn't stop. It was like the heaven cried for her too. Not that it helped in any way, because your own tears just wouldn't stop. At some point you could only hear the rain, but the droplets didn't seem to hit you anymore.
'Have my senses become so numb that I can no longer feel the rain on me ..?' You thought bitterly and then looked up. You blinked perplexed when a red cape was stretched over you. You saw Leon, who was holding his big cape over him and you and protecting both of you from the rain.
"You didn't choose a good day to sit out here." Leon laughed slightly until he saw that it wasn't just rainwater that had moistened your face. Your gloomy eyes made his smile fade and he held the cape over you more generously. "Did you .. cry ..?" He asked quietly. Normally you would have been happy to meet him here, but under the current circumstances, you couldn't utter a single word. Instead, you bit your lip to hold back more tears. Unsuccessful as it seemed, because more tears ran down your cheeks again and made you sob softly in response.
Leon seemed a little overwhelmed. How should he behave now? Nobody has ever cried in front of them, especially not a woman. The purple-haired man looked around for help until he noticed that his hotel was not far from here. "You don't have to speak right now, but we should get dry first, don't you think so?" He smiled and you nodded slightly when you got up. Then, under the protection of his cape, you ran to the hotel. As he entered, Leon called the receptionist to bring fresh clothes and a towel to his room. And a hot tea. You two went to an elevator and drove to the floor where his room was.
Once there, Leon took the towel and rubbed your hair dry. Then there was a knock on the door and the room service had brought a sleeping gown that you could slip into for the time being. Leon gratefully accepted the  gown and handed it to you.
“I'm going to have a look after the tea. So you can change in peace. ", He smiled and patted your head lightly before he got up and left the room. You looked after him slightly. The tears finally stopped, but you still felt miserable. Although another emotion was budded in your heart. A warm, pleasant feeling.. You were glad that someone was looking after you at the moment .. and he was so thoughtful.
A few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. "It's me," Leon called. "Can I come in?" He asked, not wanting to burst in while you were changing. You thanked him very much for his courteous manner.
"Y-yes. I've already finished dressing. ", You said a little broken. The door opened and Leon held a small tray with the tea on it. He saw you on the hotel bed. The towel around your shoulders and in the hotel's white night gown. He smiled a little, because you didn't seem so exhausted anymore. After placing the tray on the bedside table, he sat down next to you.
"How are you?" He asked.
"Terrible .." you replied quietly. "But better than before," you added after seeing Leon a little worried.
"Would you like to talk now about what happened?" He asked further, looking at you.
"... The woman who practically raised me ... and was like a mother to me ... died." You wiped away the new tears and sobbed softly. "She was such a wonderful person .. Why did she have to die so early .."
Leon was silent for a moment and then looked sadly at the floor. His hands clenched into a fist and he didn't even know how to react.
"Professor Carolina ..?" Leon didn't even had to guess, since he already knew a lot about your past. You nodded sadly and Leon's face grew sadder. "I'm really sorry about that .. My deepest condolences .." he said sadly.
"Thanks ..", you mumbled and hugged yourself, trying to find some warmth.
"If I can do anything for you .. Tell me.", He offered you and you looked next to you. You swallowed lightly and sighed.
"Can you .. just hug me ..?" You asked softly. Leon blinked slightly. Although you had met a few times, both of you hardly had any physical contact so far. Except for a short, half-hearted hug as a greeting. This time it was different.
"Of course," he replied immediately and put his arms around your trembling body to pull you close. You buried your face right in his jersey and wrapped your arms around his stomach.
"Thank you ..", you whispered softly and muffled when you felt how he caressed your back soothingly.
"Don't mention it." he said and hugged you to give you the greatest possible comfort. You and Leon lingered in that embrace in silence. Your sobs grew quieter and your breathing became calmer. At some point the purple-haired man noticed that your eyes were closed. You must have fallen asleep. Leon smiled a little and laid you on the bed properly before covering you and caressing your cheek. Then he looked at his smartphone, which was about to remind him of an appointment. He got up and wanted to go when he noticed how you grabbed his hand and prevented him from going. "[Y/n] ..?"
"Please don't go now .. I .. don't want to .. be .. alone ..", you stuttered with half-open eyes. Your [e/c] irises shone from all the weeping and Leon looked at you desperately. He thought about his appointment and sighed. Then he put his other hand on top of yours and smiled.
"Alright. I'll stay with you. ", He said and sat down on the bed again. You smiled gratefully and pressed his hand to your cheek.
"Thank you ...", you mumbled softly and then held up your other hand, asking that he lay down next to you. Leon smiled and lay down next to you to pull you into his arms and hug you. You both looked at each other for a while before closing your eyes and falling asleep.
On the next morning, Leon's voice woke you up. He didn't sounded angry, but a little louder than usual. And he seemed to be talking to someone. You opened your eyes and blinked when you saw Leon pacing up and down the room.
“I told you Oleana. I couldn't meet with President Rose on this appointment because there was an emergency. ... a private emergency. No, it didn't concern me personally, but ... ... Now please listen to me. ", Leon sighed and rubbed his face in annoyance. You just couldn't talk sensibly to this woman. “Of course, I am aware of the consequences if I fail to keep important appointments for no good reason. But the reason was important to me. And I don't care if you see it any other way. … Yes, then tell President Rose that we will postpone the appointment until next week. ”He hung up and sighed deeply again. "I wouldn't want to work with this woman .." he mumbled quietly and turned around. He saw that you were awake and looked at him in shock. "Oh..“
"You had an appointment with President Rose yesterday ...?" You asked and Leon averted his gaze guiltily. "Why did not you say anything..? I wouldn't have held you here if I had known that you had an important appointment .. ", You said ashamed and straightened up.
"You needed someone.", Was his only answer when he looked at you again. His words only made you more shocked.
"You had put my well-being over your appointments ..?", You asked incredulously and put your hand over your mouth. Leon smiled and walked towards you when he put his big hand over your head.
"Of course. I can always make up or postpone appointments. But you cannot control your feelings. That's why .. it was more important to me to be there for you than to give Rose another stupid interview about why I'm the unbeatable champion. ", He said with a charming smile.
You felt like you were about to start crying again. This time, however, not from grief. The warmth of this man simply took in every fiber of your body and you literally threw yourself into his arms after these words. Leon blinked in astonishment before putting his arms around you and hugging you again as you buried your nose in his neck.
"I-I'm sorry, only because of me...Because of me your schedule got messed up .. I'll make it up to you, I promise," You said quietly. Leon laughed softly before pulling away a little and caressing your cheek.
“If you want to make it up, then .. I know of a small, cozy ice cream parlor. That serves the BEST Alcremie sundae in Galar. How does that sound? ”He asked and winked. You smiled and your grief was almost forgotten for that moment.
"Sounds good."
Since that day the friendship of you had reached a new, more intimate level.
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vdlest · 3 years
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Definition of Heaven
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Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Summary:
You found out you were pregnant with Bucky's baby when the blip took place. You keep the baby and raised him by yourself. You have always believed that Bucky will come back to you and your son, Gabriel. Five years later, the Avengers won, Bucky came home to you and Gabriel.
Warning:
Fluff
For the past 5 years, it has always been just you, your son, Gabriel, and the rest of the Avengers like Nat and Steve. You found out you were pregnant with Bucky's child when the blip took place, and during that time, Bucky was in Wakanda and that's where he vanished in thin air just like everyone else who got snapped out because of the son of a bitch creature, Thanos.
It was Steve who told you that Bucky vanished as well, so you told him about your situation, about your pregnancy. He and Nat suggested that you stay with them in the compound to make sure your safe pregnancy and to help you as well throughout your journey to motherhood, which you happily agreed on. You stayed with them and they helped you a lot, they made your journey easier, however, the thought of Bucky is still in your mind and your heart. You always miss him, and you told yourself you'll always love him.
After nine months of nurturing and sheltering your baby inside you, you finally gave birth to a handsome healthy baby boy. When you saw your baby's blue eyes, you knew he got it from Bucky. You ended up naming him Gabriel, the name of your late grandfather who raised you after your parents died. Gabriel gave light to your darkness, not just to you but to everyone else like Nat and Steve. You did everything to raise him well, a strong and brave one, who's not afraid to do what is right and good. His first crawl, first step, first walk, first word, you witness them all, and you wished Bucky did too.
Five years later, Steve and Nat had a strong belief that they can actually bring everyone back but it's high-risk. With the help of the remaining avengers, Clint, Thor, Bruce, and the shrinking guy, Scott or he calls himself the Ant-man, they were able to retract all the infinity stones in the past, but like what was mentioned, it's high-risk. Nat risked her life to be able to get the soul stone. Losing her broke your heart, she's like a sister to you. But she's not the only avenger who fell, Tony Stark did too when he snapped his fingers to save everyone.
Despite the pain of losing two important people in your life, Bucky came home to you and your son. When he found out about Gabriel, he instantly kneeled in front of your son as he introduces himself as his father. You could still remember how Gabriel answered him, I know, I always see your picture on mom's locket. Then, your Gabriel opened his arms to give Bucky, his dad, a hug of a lifetime. You can't help but feel emotional while watching them meet each other. Bucky may not be able to see him for the past five years, you know, he would make it up to both of you, especially to Gabriel.
•••
The morning breeze embraces your body as you go out on your room's balcony to have your morning coffee. The two boys are still sleeping in the master's bedroom of the house that you and Bucky bought after the blip. Your view is the sun shining above the small village you are living in, just like how the sun shines on the world again after five years of darkness.
After Tony's funeral, everything happened so fast. You, Bucky, and Gabriel reunite as a family, just like everyone else did with theirs. Bucky did everything to make it up to you and Gabriel, he worked hard and you both finally had the means to move into your dream house and here you are now, living in the life you wanted for so long.
"Perfect view, isn't it?"
You turned around and saw Bucky about to join you on the balcony. He's wearing his white shirt and his favorite pajamas.
"Good morning," you greeted him, "I thought you are still asleep with Gabriel inside, I didn't want to wake you up. You two are like snoring machines," you joked.
He chuckled as he makes his way towards where you are standing.
You and Bucky were able to pick up where you left off everything before the blip. You two became inseparable after the blip, both of you are scared of losing one another again. You haven't talked about getting married yet but you are already happy and contented with the life you have right now, it's like you're living in heaven already beside your two angels.
As he comes closer to you, he grabs your mug and placed it on top of a table, afterwards, he put both of your hands around his neck and his hands are on your waist. You two almost look like dancing.
Being five years away from him was like living in hell, you always miss him and there were nights when you'll just cry yourself to sleep. But when Gabriel came into your life, you knew you had to be strong for both of you. You just silently hope that one day, Bucky will find his way home to you. And he did.
He stared at you, a smile on his face, "Did I ever say thank you to you?" he suddenly asked.
You frowned, "Thank you?" you chuckled, "For what?"
"For being the love of my life, for choosing me, for bringing Gabriel to our lives, for living this life with me," he put strands of hair at the back of your ear as he cups your cheeks, "Thank you for being so brave all these years. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for loving me unconditionally," he said while staring at your eyes wistfully.
There he is again. Being sentimental about the time he lost and the time he could've been with you to support you.
He always feels so sorry for not being there for you when you found out that you're having a baby, for not being there when you're experiencing morning sickness, for not being by your side when you are screaming at the top of your lungs as you push Gabriel out of your womb. You understood his regrets but you have always believed that he may not be physically there, he is there with you, he's inside your heart.
"I could've been there for you when you found out that you're pre--"
You put your finger on top of his lips and shushed him, "Stop it, will you?" You removed your finger on his lips, moving your hands on both of his cheeks, "How many times do I have to tell you that you should stop saying those things? Bucky, we are here and you'll never lose us again. We'll never lose each other again," you vowed. "And you don't have to thank me for those reasons you mentioned because I did those things out of love, out of my love for you," you rested your forehead against his chin, "I did those things because I love you."
"And I love you too," he murmured, feeling his kiss on your forehead, "I love you and Gabriel more than my own life."
Bucky being a father to Gabriel is amazing. You could see his eagerness to make it up to him not just by giving him toys or any tangible things, but by giving him the attention, time, and love your son deserves. There were times you'd see him reading books about fatherhood and how to be a good father. You could really see his great effort to get to know fatherhood even more.
"Dad, Mom?"
You and Bucky slightly pulled away from each other as you both hear Gabriel behind the two of you.
"Hey, munchkin," you detach yourself from Bucky, as both of you make your way towards to doorframe where your son is standing in his pajamas. You and Bucky kneeled in front of your son, "Had a good sleep?" you asked him, fixing his messy brown hair.
"Yes, I had a good dream too!" Gabriel excitedly said, switching his eyes between you and Bucky.
Bucky pulled Gabriel in between the two of you, "Can you tell me and your mom about your dream?" he asked.
Gabriel nodded, still smiling from ear to ear, "I dreamed of seeing mommy in a beautiful white gown, and you're wearing a white suit, daddy," he said while excitement is still in his eyes. "I also saw Uncle Steve, Uncle Clint, Uncle Sam, Aunt Wanda, and the rest of your friends!" he added.
You and Bucky exchanged glances when you both heard what Gabriel's dream is about.
"What else did you see?" Bucky asked while his eyes are still looking at you.
"You and Mommy kissed," Gabriel continued then he sighed, "Then Daddy said he will take care of you forever, he will make you happy every single day."
You and Bucky kept on staring at each other while Gabriel is talking about his dream, that you two are getting married in his dream. The two of you haven't talked about getting married just yet, but Bucky already gave you his word and you have faith in him.
Gabriel went inside again to brush his teeth, leaving you and Bucky on the balcony again.
Bucky stood up and helped you next to stand up as well. He held both of your hands once you are both standing in front of each other.
"Our son's growing nonstop," Bucky reflected.
You nodded, "I know," you playfully pouted your lips, "Our baby is growing too fast."
"So what do you say about giving him a little sister or a little brother?" he teased you, then he planted a kiss on the back of your hand, "Or should we plan our wedding first?"
"Are you really sure this is what you want?" you asked him, your smile slowly fading away.
Bucky's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?" he seems puzzled. "What do you mean if I'm sure if this is what I want?" he added.
You took a deep breath, "Bucky, I just want to be sure you really want this whole thing, me as your wife, us as one family. Not that I don't trust you or I don't want you to, but I just want to make sure that I'm not forcing you to do this," you stuttered.
"Y/n, you're confusing me."
"Okay," you sighed, "Bucky, before the blip, we are together, right? It wasn't really our plan to have a baby, but it happened anyway. Gabriel is the biggest blessing for us, I just don't want you to think that you have an obligation to me, to marry me just because you have a baby with me. I want you to marry me for the right reason, not because I have your child." Your hand moved on top of his, "Bucky, I love you. You know that, right? But I don't want to pressure you into enteri--"
"Look, y/n," he said, stopping you from finishing your sentence, "I know this wasn't our original plan, this wasn't I had in my mind five years ago when I thought of us and our future, but I couldn't think of any best way of having a future with you. Before the blip, I kept on asking myself why I had to go through those pain all those years, and when I met you, I finally understood why. Those pain will bring me to you, my lightbringer. Now, I have more reason to let go of my past, I have you and Gabriel now. I have both of you as my family," he walked closer to you and cupped your face, "And don't think that I am marrying you as an obligation or what because it would be my pleasure and my honor to marry an amazing woman. I will marry you, not because you are the mother of my child but because I want you to be my wife, I want to see you every single time I wake up and before I go to sleep. I want to grow old with you and it may sound cliche as it is, it's true. I want to spend my life with you."
His words made your worries disappeared. His words made you believe that he's the guy who would make all your worries and doubts vanish in thin air.
"So I gonna ask you now," he let of your face and he removed his dog tags around his neck, "Will you marry me?"
It was a spontaneous proposal. He doesn't have a ring with him, but all he could offer and give you are his dog tags. It may not be the usual way of proposing to women, but you couldn't think of any best alternative for that one. Anyway, you like uniqueness.
You smiled at him, "Yes, I will marry you, James Buchanan Barnes."
Bucky pulled you towards him and kissed your forehead, "I love you," he said before kissing your lips next.
After he kissed you, he puts on his dog tags around your neck.
"I knew it will look more good on you," he said, staring at his dog tags on your neck.
You chuckled, "I love you, Bucky."
He pulled you towards him for a hug and you knew at that very moment, you have everything you'll ever gonna need in your life.
Having Bucky and your son, Gabriel by your side forever is your definition of heaven.
-v.dl
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Soulmate AU part 3: The teenagers slowly become adults;
Leon is endlessly proud of his kids (he’s long accepted that he’s a dad of three unruly teenagers now, and shares custody with Gwen and Hunith, the only other sensible ones), and Morgana and Merlin are abruptly made aware of their new... role(s).
Part 1   Part 2 Part 4
All of their birthdays pass in the next few months. Of course, Arthur’s and Morgana’s come with big celebrations, insisted on by Uther (I mean... Morgana had just come of age, and Arthur was the Prince, can you blame him?), but the gang put on mini celebrations just for them in the evenings.
Everyone got everyone gifts, and they spent as much time together during the birthdays as they could, even Gaius and Hunith joining them when they had time.
Leon was quickly climbing the ranks within the Knights, and was the youngest to be granted the title of captain at just 23, which gave him little more control over his own schedule. He worked incredibly hard, was a good teacher, and never took advantage of his post, so his fellow knights didn’t mind so much when he gave himself the occasional day off, for his kid’s birthdays.
The other knights had definitely picked up an Leon’s... older brother instincts when it came to The Prince, The Ward, The Servant, and The Physician’s Apprentice, and ribbed him mercilessly for it, but he didn’t really mind too much. Said kids certainly found it hilarious.
Morgana coming of age also meant an influx of potential courters, both foreign royalty and local nobility.
Much to Uther’s annoyance, she rejected every single one before even meeting them, insisting that she would marry for love, not because some old man wanted to suck up to The King.
It didn’t take long for him to give up on finding her a suitor to be honest. She wasn’t heir to the throne, so it wasn’t too important, and he knew how stubborn she was; the more he tries to set her up, the more she’ll resist.
Merlin’s sixteenth birthday came a few weeks after Arthur’s seventeenth, and Uther begrudgingly gave Morgana and Arthur a day off from lessons and meetings. Frankly, he knew there would be no point in trying to enforce anything, they would just ignore him and sneak out to see the boy anyway.
~
A couple months after Arthur’s seventeenth birthday, it came time for his official Knighting (he talked about it endlessly when it happened, being one of the youngest to ever be officially knighted, most aren’t knighted until they’re closer to 21. Leon had been very young as well, at only 19).
Much to Uther’s chagrin, Arthur and Morgana insisted that Hunith and Merlin have a front row seats.
He gave in eventually, after Arthur threatened to not turn up to his own ceremony, and Morgana pointed out that the only people in attendance would already know about the whole soulmate thing.
It was a momentous occasion, that involved huge public celebrations (which Arthur and Morgana, of course, snuck out of the castle to join in on, with Gwen and Merlin), and a large feast in the evening.
Hunith finally got a chance to wear one of her nicest dresses, and Arthur even managed to wrangle Merlin into some smart clothes (just a touch of red and gold, to subtly compliment what the Prince was wearing, of course).
Though Uther did insist on having them introduced as “Family of the Court Physician” to anyone who asked, which annoyed Arthur to no end. But he’d agreed to not go public until he turned 18, so he was just going to have to put up with it.
They had a great time, and even Uther loosened up a bit once he’d had a little to drink. He still avoided Hunith and Merlin like the plague, but did get tipsy enough to clap Arthur on the back, and tell him he was proud “Of both your achievement today, and the happiness you found with your soulmate.” which Arthur definitely did NOT tear up at, thank you very much Morgana, and which Uther will deny happened until the day he dies.
Despite having to hide their respective soulmates, the gang had fun. Once the food and tables where cleared away to make way for music and dancing, things livened up a great deal.
Morgana dragged Merlin to dance, despite his insistence that he didn’t know how. Arthur, Gwen, Leon, Hunith, and Gaius watched on in amusement as Morgana tried to teach him the steps in the middle of the floor, no one in the hall daring to complain (she was the King’s Ward, after all).
Morgana made her way through the group, insisting that Arthur danced with her next, then Leon, and then, much to Uther’s annoyance, Gwen and Hunith.
Everyone soon forgot about their worries, maybe it was inappropriate for commoners and servants to mix with royalty and knights, but this celebration was for Arthur, he could bloody well do what he wanted.
Thankfully, by the time Morgana managed to force Arthur and Merlin on the dancefloor together, everyone else in the room was too drunk, and too wrapped up in their own dance partners, to notice The Prince dancing with the Physician’s Apprentice.
Overall, despite the stress of feeling like Uther was glaring a hole in the back of all of their heads, they enjoyed the night. Hunith and Merlin felt, even though it was obviously much fancier, the celebrations were similar to the ones they had back in their little village.
They had greatly missed the Yule celebration that had undoubtedly happened at the end of last year in Ealdor, but this more than made up for it, and by the end of the night, their spirits were lifted, so much so that they weren’t nearly as homesick as they used to be.
~
It was just days after the celebrations, that Arthur and Merlin (choosing to sleep in Merlin’s bed tonight, so they could have breakfast with Hunith the next morning) woke with a start to the sound of frantic banging on the front door. It was very late, still hours before sunrise.
Arthur woke immediately, his instincts kicking in as he grabbed his hidden sword and made his way out of the bedroom before he was even fully aware of himself. Merlin woke up a little slower, but still grabbed his own sword and crept out of the room after Arthur, meeting a worried Hunith in the corridor.
Arthur gestured at them to be quiet and raised his sword a little higher as the banging started again.
Merlin ignored him however, as he widened his (now golden) eyes and dropped his sword. He rushed to open the door before Arthur could stop him, only to find a distraught Morgana shivering on the front step.
She was still wearing sleep clothes, with a cloak and shoes hastily thrown on. He eyes were red and she had tear tracks down her face, her hair a mess.
The moment Merlin threw open the door, Morgana falls forward into his arms, the Warlock only just managing to catch her as she begins crying again.
It takes Arthur a moment to recover form his shock, but he quickly gathers his and Merlin’s swords, dropping them on a side table, before mouthing “tea?” to Hunith and stepping towards his soulmate and his sister.
Hunith nods slightly, and with one last worried look to the girl who had become like a daughter to her, she busies herself in the kitchen; lighting the fire, boiling some water, and gathering together some tea leaves, the type that help with sleep.
Arthur manages to pull the other two inside, so he could shut the door, and he guides them to the living room. Merlin settles in a large, soft armchair, and Morgana follows closely, falling into his lap and continuing to cry into his shoulder, clutching desperately at his sleep tunic.
Arthur sits himself on the armrest, and Morgana gropes blindly for his hand, which he quickly takes, before looking to Merlin and raising a worried eyebrow.
Merlin just shakes his head in confusion. Morgana hadn’t said anything yet, just cried, and he had no idea what could’ve brought on such hysterics so suddenly in someone who was usually so calm.
He wipes all thoughts of his own nightmares from his mind as he strokes Morgana’s hair and whispers gentle words to her. She finally calms down a little as Hunith walks in with four cups of tea, and Merlin asks quietly:
“Would you like Gwen? She only lives a few streets away, Arthur could fetch her and be back in only a few minutes.” Arthur gets up, moving to put on shoes and a cloak, but Morgana croaks out a desperate:
“NO! No, I don’t want to worry her.”
She goes to stand up, but Merlin pulls her back down, settling her comfortably in his lap, as she fiddles with her hands and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.
Merlin just frowns, still stroking her back, and Arthur speaks up quietly:
“What’s wrong ‘Gana? Are you hurt?”
Morgana shakes her head and looks up at Arthur, then Hunith, before finally looking back at Merlin. She gulps before she begins to speak:
“I... I had a nightmare-”
Merlin gives her a sad smile, knowing how terrifyingly disorienting they can be, but before he can say anything, Morgana continues:
“-but not a normal one. I’ve always suffered with night terrors, and Gaius makes me sleeping draughts but they never work. This one was so vivid. Like it was real.-”
She looks down to her lap, and Merlin begins to frown again as she continues:
“-I never really noticed before, or I just wrote it off as coincidence, but all of my dreams... they come true. And this one...”
Arthur speaks up as she trails off:
“Are you sure, Morgana? Maybe you just got a little muddled up, perhaps you dreamt about them after, and got confused?-”
Morgana looks up sharply, somehow still managing to look a little intimidating despite the messy hair and tears:
"Do you remember when you got caught by that mace during training last week?-”
Arthur frowns slightly, nodding as he rolls his shoulder automatically, still feeling a dull ache:
“-well the night before, I dreamt about it, that’s why I came to watch that morning. I just wrote it off because in my dream, it was Leon that hit you, not Sir Kay, but that was the only difference. Even the bruise looked exactly the same.-”
The other three look surprised, but before they can say anything she gulps and continues:
“And when we got attacked by those bandits? I dreamt about that a few days prior. In my dream, Leon was with us as well, and there were three more attackers, but again, other than the slight difference, everything was the same. Even how Merlin ended the fight, and the memory charm.”
Arthur collapses in the chair behind him, looking thoughtful, and slightly worried, as Merlin breaks himself out of his train of thought:
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Morgana bites her lip, before saying timidly:
“I almost did, but I just thought I was being paranoid; seeing connections where there weren’t any. But tonight...”
Arthur looks up sharply, frowning (not accusingly, just... worryingly) as he says:
“What was your nightmare about ‘Gana? I’ve never seen you this scared before.”
She looks up and meets his gaze, tears gathering in her eyes again:
“We were in a cave, me and Merlin. It was dark, and we were... not quite scared, but confused. And then a dragon appeared, huge, angry. It spoke, I couldn’t understand it, but Merlin obviously could, and they talked for a while. Merlin got angry, and then the dragon looked at me, and reared up and started spitting fire. I woke up just before... just before it burned me. I snuck past the guards and came straight here.-”
She looked to her lap again, before mumbling:
“Honestly, I didn’t even know you were here, I just wanted to see Merlin, because he was in it.”
Merlin pulls her close again, and she settles with her head in the crook of his neck as he strokes her hair, worrying his lip at her description of the night terror.
Hunith looked worried, and Arthur was deep in thought for a few minutes, before speaking up again:
“I suppose you two just... stay away from big caves? And if you find one somehow, come find me, and Leon would probably be good as well, and we’ll see what’s going on, together.”
Morgana looks up at him through her lashes, and mumbles:
“It felt... evil. Not the dragon or the place, but... me. Like it was justified in attacking me, like I wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Merlin tightens his hold on her, and his eyes flash gold as he grinds out:
“ ‘Gana, anything that tries to hurt you, will have to go through me first, dragon or otherwise.”
Arthur smiles comfortingly as he says:
“Exactly. As if I would ever let the two of you explore a dragon’s cave without me anyway.”
She looks up as she laughs, just a little, and Hunith speaks for the first time since Morgana had appeared:
“Would you like to stay here for the rest of the night? I can move in here and you can take my bed.”
Merlin shakes his head:
“No, she can stay with Arthur and I, the bed is big enough for the three of us. That way we can wake her up if she gets any more nightmares.”
Arthur nods and pats Morgana’s shoulder before going to their bedroom. He lights a candle, pulls the covers back, and places the swords back in their hiding places.
Morgana sits up straight and looks down at Merlin:
“Are you sure? I can make my way back to the castle easily enough.”
Merlin shakes her head, smiling at her:
“No, it’s fine. I’d prefer you to stay with us anyway. We can talk to Gaius tomorrow about the dreams. I was born with magic remember, it’s not impossible for it to have happened to you as well, we’ll just have to be careful, ok? Everything will be fine, ‘Gana, promise.”
Morgana smiles, and wipes her eyes as she stands up. She gives Hunith a quick hug, thanking her for the tea as she picks up her an Arthur’s cup. She follows Arthur into the bedroom, and Merlin gives his mother a worried look, before grabbing his own cup and saying goodnight, telling her quietly:
“Make sure your door is shut. Hopefully she won’t have anymore nightmares tonight, but I have a feeling she’ll wake up loudly if she does.”
Hunith nods, before whispering:
“Do you think she’s right? Is she some sort of... seer?”
Merlin sighs, looking towards the bedroom, before looking back and replying:
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve never exactly met any other magic-users, I only have Gaius and my own experiences to go off.”
Hunith nods, and the two separate, heading to their own rooms and shutting the doors behind them.
Arthur and Morgana were already settled, having finished their tea. Arthur was back where he was earlier, and Morgana sat in the middle of the bed, her head resting on his shoulder.
Merlin walks around to sit on Morgana’s other side, abandoning his undrunk tea in favour of laying straight down. Morgana and Arthur follow him, and Morgana turns over, curling up under Merlin’s arm, and whispering a quiet, teary “thank you”.
Arthur settles an arm over Morgana’s back, his hand intertwining with Merlin’s on the pillow, and Merlin’s other arm settles over her waist, holding her close.
The boys share a worried look, before closing their eyes. They fall into a shallow sleep, prepared to jump awake at even a twitch from Morgana, determined to keep her safe.
~
Morgana wakes the next morning having slept surprisingly well through the rest of the night.
Merlin is sitting up next to her, one hand protectively splayed on her back, the other holding a book in his lap. She can hear people bustling around in the next room, and she can see the sun start to peak through the curtains.
Merlin looks down at her when he feels her wake, and puts a finger to his lips, before whispering:
“Gwen and Leon arrived earlier to join us for breakfast, we haven’t told them you’re here.-”
Morgana frowns in confusion as she sits up, and Merlin continues:
“-I think you should tell them what happened, they can help, like they helped me, but we still thought it should be your choice. You can sneak out the widow and head up to the castle if you want?”
Morgana shakes her head, and murmurs:
“No, you’re right. They should know, I don’t like keeping things from Gwen, and Leon can always tell when we lie, anyway.” She says the last bit with a weak smirk, and Merlin chuckles:
“Come on then, I think breakfast is almost ready. Plus, some of us have semi full days today, so we should get going before we all start running late.”
Morgana nods, and moves to stand in front of the mirror, grimacing before trying to straighten her hair a little, and washing her face in the fresh wash-bowl.
Merlin chuckles a little before following her up, and throwing a jacket on over his sleep clothes. He waits for Morgana to finish, and allows her to nervously take his hand as they exit the room.
It takes a few moments for anyone to notice them when they first enter the kitchen, Arthur and Hunith cooking, whilst Gwen and Leon play cards at the table.
Arthur is the first to notice, and gives Morgana a smile, before looking to Merlin with a raised eyebrow, meaning “the truth?”. Merlin answers with a small nod, and Arthur smiles again, before saying loudly:
“Morning, you two certainly slept in, didn’t you?”
Everyone looks up at that, Hunith briefly smiling before going back to the food, and Gwen and Leon widening their eyes in surprise. Gwen jumps up to give Morgana a hug, which she enthusiastically returns:
“ ‘Gana! I thought I felt you close, what are you doing here? Did you stay the night?” There’s no accusation in her tone, just concern, and Morgana gives her a brief smile before nodding, and saying:
“It’s... a long story. Let’s sit, we can tell the both of you.”
Leon packs the cards away, and moves up the bench so Merlin can settle next to him, Gwen and Morgana opposite them, and Arthur and Hunith hurriedly serve up food before sitting down at the ends of the table.
Morgana explains timidly what had happened just a few hours previously, and Gwen grabs her hand as she describes the feeling of being deserving of the flames. 
(The way she words the sentence does make Merlin tense slightly, but only Arthur notices, and he squeezes Merlin’s knee under the table.)
Leon listens intently, and when she’s finished, he leans across the table to clutch her hand briefly before looking to Merlin:
“Is that possible? Could she be some sort of seer? I know there are lots of them among the druids, but I’ve never actually met one.”
Merlin shrugs slightly, and replies:
“I’m not sure, it’s possible. We were going to talk to Gaius, he knows more about this sort of thing than me.”
Gwen and Leon nod, and Hunith speaks up:
“Me and Arthur are busy today, and I’m assuming you are as well, Leon?-”
He nods, though reluctantly:
“-But why don’t you two go with Merlin to see Gaius? He’ll probably be more able to understand if you can explain it directly to him.”
Morgana looks a little tense at having to explain it for a third time, but Gwen nods her head:
“That sounds like a good idea, maybe we could... get into contact with some druids somehow? If they do have seers, they might be able to help.”
Leon looks troubled at that, but Arthur speaks up first:
“That could work, but only if we absolutely have to. I don’t want to put them in any unnecessary danger, by potentially exposing them. Plus it would be a long journey, we’d have to come up with excuses. I don’t think my father would accept any reason we gave for needing a few days off to leave the kingdom.”
The others nod in agreement, Morgana looking even more worried, but Hunith sees her expression and speaks quietly:
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Gaius knows a great many things, and if not, I’m sure we can figure it out ourselves.”
Morgana smiles at her gratefully, and with that, the conversation comes to an easy end.
After they clean up, and a round of goodbyes is had, Hunith rushes off to the tailor’s, and Arthur and Leon reluctantly head back up to the castle.
Morgana wraps herself in a cloak, with the hood up, and Merlin quickly gets dressed. In the end, they had decided that Gwen and Morgana would head to Morgana’s chambers, so she could get washed and changed and run a brush through her hair, and Merlin would head straight to the Physician’s chambers, and explain the situation to Gaius.
He was indeed troubled, when Merlin explained what had happened, in as much detail as possible to stop his best friend from having to recount it again.
He knew of her nightmares, and had been making sleeping draughts for her for years, but she had never talked about the similarities to real life events before.
Gaius mentions not knowing much of her heritage, passed her parents and grandparents, but even if it wasn’t an inherited gift, it’s possible for the occasional, naturally magical child to be born. As proven by Merlin.
Morgana and Gwen arrive shortly after, and Gaius gives the King’s Ward a comforting pat on the shoulder, before saying quietly:
“Merlin has explained what has happened, it does sound potentially magical, but beyond that, I’m afraid I can’t be of more help. I think the Prince’s suggestion of just being careful where you go is currently the best course of action. Might I also suggest that you stop taking sleeping draughts for a while? It might be that they are interfering with the process, making them more or less vivid, accurate.”
Morgana looks a little scared at that, but Gwen squeezes her hand and Merlin speaks up:
“That might be a good idea, it’ll be easier to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with if there isn’t any interference.”
Merlin’s confirmation gives Morgana a little more confidence, and she nods firmly. She’s never run away from things before, she’s not going to start now, especially when she has her soulmate, best friend, brother, and knight in shining armour beside her.
Merlin gives her a smile, and Gaius gives him the day off, encouraging the three of them to take the day to relax, and recover from last night’s ordeal. Merlin gives his mentor a grateful smile, and takes Morgana’s other hand, dragging the girls out the door, before saying with a cheerful grin:
“Fancy going to watch Arthur get his arse handed to him on a silver platter during training?”
~
During everyone’s lunch break, they explained the plan... or lack thereof.
Leon was a little... tense, at the idea of stopping the sleeping draughts and just seeing what happens, but in the grand scheme of things, there weren’t any other options.
A few days passed, getting less and less tense as each sun rose and set. Morgana slept peacefully, no more nightmares or... visions. It was still a worry in the back of all their minds, but it was no longer a pressing issue that they lost sleep over.
Until the fourth day.
It had been exactly a year since Hunith and Merlin had moved to Camelot, and they were having a mini, evening celebration at the house, with the whole gang there.
Morgana had gone into the garden to cool off a bit (seven people all in one small room at the beginning of summer... yeah it got pretty hot, pretty quick).
Merlin joined her and they chatted quietly, reminiscing about all the ridiculous things they had gotten up to in just one year, laughing about how many grey hairs they had given Leon.
The conversation halted when Merlin straightened his back, and took in a gasp at a voice echoing through his head:
“Emrys...”
Morgana frowns at Merlin’s sudden reaction to seemingly nothing:
“Birdy, what’s wrong?”
Merlin looks at her in surprise:
“Did you not hear that?-”
“Emrys!”
He gasped, and took a step away from the house, peering into the dark:
“There it was again, can you not hear it? Who is that?”
Morgana looks troubled, and takes Merlin’s shoulder, pulling him round to look at her:
“Merlin there’s... no one there. I didn’t hear anything. Are you alright?”
Merlin looks at her, confused, but tenses, and whips his head around again when the voice echoes again:
“Come and find me, Warlock, I’m waiting. Come alone.”
Morgana calls desperately for Arthur, but Merlin pays her no mind as his eyes strain to see something that isn’t there. After only a second the Prince appeared with a pop by Merlin’s side:
“Merlin, what’s wrong?”
Merlin doesn’t answer him, and he looks to Morgana, worried. She has the same troubled expression on her face as she replies:
“I don’t know, he keeps hearing something that isn’t there.”
Arthur looks back to Merlin, and shakes his shoulder roughly, finally getting his attention:
“Merls?”
Just then, the others walk out of the house, looking worried at Morgana’s scared call, and Arthur’s sudden disappearance. Merlin looks over the group, before glancing once more out into the dark street, before looking back to Arthur:
“It’s a voice, someone’s calling for me. They’re calling me the wrong name but... they’re definitely calling for me.”
Everyone looks troubled at that, and Merlin shakes his head when Gaius asks if he recognises the voice.
Leon lifts his head in sudden thought before speaking hurriedly to Morgana:
“In the dream, you said Merlin and the dragon spoke to each other, but you couldn’t understand them, right?-”
Morgana gives a nervous nod, and the group looks to him, confused, as he speaks again:
“Well, maybe it’s... like that. Maybe that’s how you and Merlin find the cave, you follow the voice.-”
The others look doubtful, but he continues anyway:
“I know it’s far fetched, but how else were the two of you just going to stumble upon a cave big enough to hold a dragon?”
Arthur nods at that, mumbling that it makes sense, and Morgana looks scared. Gwen grabs her hand, and Gaius and Hunith look to each other nervously.
No on really knows what to say, but they all look to Merlin as he groans, bringing a hand up to his forehead, as the voice echoes louder:
“HURRY Warlock, I find myself running low on patience this night.”
Arthur pulls him close, and Gwen takes his other hand, Merlin mumbles:
“Whatever it is, it’s telling me to go find him, alone. I have a feeling he’s not going to stop until I go.”
Leon scoffs before saying:
“Like hell are we letting you go alone, but we should see what this is all about. Lead the way, Birdy.”
Arthur steps back and tells everyone to wait a minute, before popping away. He reappears moments later with his and Merlin’s swords, and three spares, for Gwen, Morgana, and Leon.
Leon just raises an eyebrow, taking the offered sword, and Arthur shrugs:
“Pays to be prepared. There are at least two more still in the house-”
He looks to Gaius and Hunith:
“You two wait here, we’ll try not to do anything too stupid.”
They both look worried at that, but Arthur rolls his eyes, and says:
“Leon and Gwen will be with us.”
At that, Gaius and Hunith relax slightly, which everyone would find hilarious if they weren’t focusing on bigger things.
Arthur turns back to Merlin, taking his hand, and gesturing him to lead the way.
The Warlock leads them up the main road, towards the castle gates. The others are confused at that, they had expected him to start walking out of the city, towards the wilderness, not further in.
They follow him though, getting tenser and tenser, as he allows his feet to carry him through the castle, going further and further down. Towards the dungeons.
They duck out of the way when people pass, and thankfully manage to avoid being seen by everyone. No one notices them even as they move through the dungeons to a hidden, back staircase that falls deeper and deeper into the earth.
All of them frown at this, none of them had been aware of this section of the castle, all having thought the dungeons were the lowest level.
They reach the bottom, seeing a great metal gate in front of them, that opens to a large cave. Morgana gasps, and mumbles that this is the cave from her dream as she grips Gwen’s hand tighter.
Leon takes a deep breath, before stepping in front of the group, and walking slowly forward, pushing the gate open easily, and stepping into the cave, sword raised in defence.
Arthur and Merlin follow quickly, Gwen after them, holding a fearful Morgana behind her protectively.
They gather on a ledge, staring in wonder and fear at the huge cavern that stretches out in every direction. After just a moment, a deafening roar echoes from somewhere near the roof, and the group collectively gasp before huddling closer together.
That is, apart from Merlin, who steps forward, a frown on his face as he yells:
“Like hell I was coming alone. What is this?”
With that, a blizzard like wind whips through the cavern, and everyone takes a step back, looking fearfully up at the giant dragon that descends from above.
Merlin holds his ground, automatically gripping his sword tighter, as the beast lands in front of him, gazing at him impassively.
Arthur speaks up loudly, but his voice shakes as he says:
“Merlin... step back... come here. Please.”
Merlin doesn’t move, but the dragon absentmindedly moves his gaze to the group, making direct eye contact with Arthur before tilting his head downwards, slightly reminiscent of a bow, before looking back to Merlin.
The group moves slowly towards Merlin, unprepared to leave him alone, and the dragon grumbles again, in a language that Merlin doesn’t realise isn’t even English:
“I let you have your year of fun. Now you must grow up, and learn of your destiny. There are bigger things in motion that you could ever hope to imagine.”
Merlin frowns, and the group looks to him in confusion as he replies:
“You let me? What does that even mean? And how did you call me down here? What destiny? And my name isn’t Emrys or whatever, it’s Merlin, always has been.”
The dragon narrows his eyes, before replying, the deep rumble of his growling unnerving to those who can’t understand him:
“So many questions. You are the great Warlock, known as Emrys, the most powerful magic-user to walk the earth. Arthur is the Once and Future King, destined to unite Albion.”
Merlin tilts his head in confusion:
“...right.”
The great dragon appears to huff in frustration, before continuing:
“He will face many threats. It is your destiny to protect, and guide him on his way to unite the land, and bring magic back into balance.”
Merlin furrows his eyebrows. He was already sort of expecting the whole “bringing magic back” thing, but the official “destiny” thing is definitely news to him:
“And how do you know all of this?”
Kilgharrah takes a great step back, ignoring his question, once more looking over the group stood just behind Merlin. His nostrils flare, smoke swirling out as he huffs, and narrows his eyes:
“You should not have brought the witch. In another life, she was destined to become a monster, the hatred to your love, the darkness to your light. The risk is too high, she must be destroyed, before she falls once more.”
He rears up, and takes a deep breath as Morgana stumbles back fearfully, the group gathering around her protectively. Merlin rushes back, standing between the dragon and the group before he can exhale. He falls back down onto his front claws and growls, but Merlin shouts before he can say anything:
“NO! You want to hurt ‘Gana, you’ll have to kill me, and I suspect your precious Once and Future King, first.”
With that, Arthur steps further forward, to be in line with Merlin, and the dragon turns angrily, whipping his tail to the floor with a bang, before turning back and glaring at him:
“Her destiny is inevitable, none of us choose our destiny, and none of us can escape it. She must be destroyed before it’s too-”
Merlin interrupts him:
“I don’t give a FUCK about your destiny. No one’s future is set in stone, and I will never let you hurt her, especially not for something she hasn’t even done yet.”
The dragon growls once again, before leaning close to Merlin, he speaks in English this time, so the group can understand, his voice deep and gravelly, filled with anger:
“On your head be it, or more likely, your precious soulmate’s head.”
With that, he gestures a giant claw briefly at Arthur, before flying off once again, disappearing into the shadows of the cavern.
Merlin blinks a few times, and the anger on his face fades to confusion as he looks back to Morgana, gazing at her assessingly.
She looks terrified, and gulps before saying:
“What is it, what did he say?”
Merlin shakes his head roughly, and walks forward, gathering her in a hug, before pulling back, his hands still on her shoulders. He gives her a small smile before looking to the others:
“Let’s get back to Hunith and Gaius, we don’t want to be gone too long. I’ll explain as best I can when we get back-”
He lets go of Morgana and shrugs briefly:
“-though to be honest, I’m not sure even I fully understand.”
With that, he leads the group out of the cavern, holding Morgana’s hand tightly, and refusing to look back.
Leon and Arthur bring up the rear, and they quickly find themselves back at the house, having made the whole journey in silence.
Hunith and Gaius hurriedly stand and look nervously to the group as they re-enter the house, and grimly settle around the kitchen table without a word.
Merlin and Arthur look stuck deep in thought, and Morgana quietly sniffles whilst Gwen comforts her, so Hunith and Gaius look to Leon for explanation.
He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, before beginning to explain:
“Well... we found the dragon.-”
Gaius gasps at that, and Hunith frowns, worrying her lip between her teeth:
“-Though none of us but Merlin could understand what he was saying. Something about destiny, and Kings, from what we could hear Merlin saying. It wanted to hurt Morgana, and got angry when Merlin and Arthur stepped in the way. Then it... flew off I guess, and we came back here.”
The others, apart from Merlin, had started to pay attention as Leon explained, and when he was finished, everyone looked to the young Warlock.
He still had a deep frown on his face, and was sat exceptionally still, staring at his hands folded on the table.
Morgana gulps and takes his hand, shocking him out of his internal deliberation:
“Merlin, why did it attack me? What did it say about me?”
Merlin takes a deep breath, and stares at her, a slight frown on his face as he noticed the reappearance of tears.
He pursed his lips, trying to decide what to tell her. Risk terrifying her even more, by telling the full truth, but being able to work together to combat it? OR, only tell part of the truth, lie, and save her from the heartbreak, trying to help her avoid her so called destiny from the side-lines?
He clenched his jaw, before giving her a small smile and looking around at his family; the decision was much easier than he first thought:
“He told me about our... destinies. Apparently my real name is Emrys, and I’m a powerful Warlock, destined to help Arthur become The Once and Future King, whatever that means, so he can unite all of Albion, and bring magic back into balance.-”
The others frown in confusion at this, and he looks back at Morgana, squeezing her hand once more before continuing:
“-He said that... in another life, Morgana was destined to become a monster, to fight against mine and Arthur’s destiny-”
Morgana let out a breath at that, and a few more tears fell as everyone else around the table tenses at the accusation:
“-he said that the risk of it happening again, in this life, was too high, and she had to be... destroyed, before she got in the way.-”
Arthur stands abruptly in anger at that, and Leon has to put a hand on his shoulder to calm him before he started angrily yelling. Merlin gave Morgana a reassuring smile before saying:
“-I, of course, told him to fuck off, that he would have to go through me before I let him punish you for something you hadn’t done, and have no intention of doing.”
Morgana shakes her head quickly, like she feels the need to convince her family that she isn’t some sort of beast (that breaks all of their hearts a little bit), before putting her hands over her mouth, and tightly closing her eyes.
Merlin stands and quickly walks to the other side of the table, pulling Morgana up and gathering her in a tight hug. He blinks away the tears in his eyes at her distress, and pointedly ignores the painful stares of everyone else in the room.
Gwen puts a comforting hand on Morgana’s shoulder blade, as she once again finds herself crying into Merlin’s shoulder.
The Warlock tries not to sound angry (he feels the urge to go back down those steps and yell at the bastard, but he figured that probably wasn’t such a good idea) as he murmurs comfortingly to her:
“Don’t you worry ‘Gana, you’ll never be a monster, not to us. Pre-written destiny is a load of crap, our lives are whatever we make of them, dig your own path. I’ve got you, and I’m never letting go. You aren’t alone.”
She looks up at him with bleary eyes, and the others crowd closer as her next question comes out as just a whisper:
“Promise?”
Merlin smiles at her, and wipes away her tears, but before he can answer, Arthur speaks up, in a strong voice:
“We promise, ‘Gana.”
Leon gives her a reassuring smile, and Gwen nods her head firmly as she speaks:
“We’re in this together, destiny or no.”
Gaius and Hunith take the beds that night, as the other five fill the living room with various blankets and pillows. They crowd in together, Morgana held protectively in the middle, everyone else silently making oaths to themselves that they would never let her down.
~
That’s the end of part three!! 
I reckon there’ll be two more parts to the story, but again, that depends on how many different ideas I want to fit in. I also haven’t started writing part 4 yet, so it might take a little while longer for it to arrive.
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catflorist · 3 years
Text
Stars (ao3/ffn) catflorist warning: major character death
Sasuke joined the Akatsuki for simple reasons. He heard they had a plan to destroy the shinobi world, and he wanted a part of it. 
As a blizzard raged in the cold northern air, he followed a dark-robed figure into a passageway carved into the cliffside of a snow-capped mountain. The tunnel twisted and turned, snaking past cavernous rooms and rocky chambers. Akatsuki forces milled about everywhere, red clouds hovering on dark cloaks everywhere he looked. His guide, Konan, led him past without stopping.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To our leader,” Konan said, leading him deeper. “She says she knows you.”
He was sure they were halfway through the mountain before she stopped by a metal door. 
“Wait here.” 
She knocked and the door opened a crack. Whispered words were exchanged, too low for Sasuke to overhear.
“You’ll have to wait,” Konan said. “She's still bathing.”
Sasuke was annoyed. Why was Karin going through these theatrics? He hadn’t seen her for months, not since disbanded the team and left to face Itachi alone. How she’d ended up in the Akatsuki he couldn't guess. Not only that, she somehow had all of them tiptoeing around her. 
“Tell Karin I don't have time to wait,” he snapped.
Konan gave him a curious look, but stayed silent.
“What?”
“Enter,” a voice called from inside. The way it echoed off the rock, it didn't sound like Karin’s voice at all.
He stormed in. Torches lit the dark room in a flickering glow, and the air felt warm. A shadowed figure rose from a steaming pool of water. An attendant held out a billowing Akatsuki robe, helping guide arms through sleeves. 
When the light caught her face, shock ripped through him. Because it wasn’t Karin.
Her pink hair was dripping wet, her cheeks hollowed. She pulled on glasses over red-rimmed eyes pinched with pain, the green irises huge beneath the thick lenses. The dark robe slipped off bare, bony shoulders—was that all she was wearing? He averted his eyes, stared at the steam curled in the air. His guard down, his chakra stretched out to meet hers of its own accord. But there was nothing. 
He recoiled. How was that possible? She should be dead.
A diamond mark on her forehead pulsed like the core of a star, the only part of her with any vitality, energy. That and her eyes—they were still bright and sharp. The rest was fading.
“It's good to see you,” Sakura said.
.
.
It didn’t take long for Sasuke to understand. The chakra stored in Sakura’s seal was all that kept her alive, and one day it would run out. 
At the same time, it all depended on her, it seemed, the meticulously planned attack on the shinobi world. She was its life force. Every ounce of her remaining chakra was rationed and monitored, planned in advance for that day. It was all anyone talked about, the reason why heads lowered in respect when speaking Sakura’s name.
To fill his time Sasuke accepted mission after mission. He brought back intel, took out troublesome political figures, and weakened supply chains, doing anything they asked of him to prepare for the attack on Konoha, three months away.
He avoided Sakura.
One night Konan pushed aside the curtain hanging in the door of his small chamber, an alcove in the stone set apart from the other Akatsuki members. “You’re back. What was it this time?”
“We intercepted a shipment of weapons,” he said. “They’re waiting in the meeting room.”
“When do you set out again?”
“I don’t know yet. What do you want?”
Konan met his eyes. “She wants to see you.”
He crossed his arms. “Tell her I'm busy.”
“You think you’re so important,” she said in that calm, mild way of hers. “You wouldn’t act this way, if you truly understood the magnitude of what she’s doing for us. For the world.”
Overcome with sudden anger, Sasuke forgot he came to the Akatsuki willingly, that each day he helped advance its mission. That he too hated what their world had done to his family. 
“It's all for nothing!” he spat. “You’re throwing her away. For nothing.”
“You’re selfish. It’s no wonder you don’t understand sacrifice.”
He grit his teeth. “Find another way.”
“She’s dying already,” she said. “She’s just making something from the time she has left. What have you done with your life?”
Sakura was frozen. Dying. Sasuke pictured her in a land of ice, the snowy expanse that surrounded the mountain lit by a weak and wintery sun. Perhaps she could stretch her life a few years, each day lighting her chakra no brighter than a candle’s fire, barely warming her hands in the cold. 
Instead she would burn up all at once, quick and hot and bright, like an exploding star, and maybe something would grow after the flames cooled. Fire always led to life in some way after all. She would not wait to freeze to death. 
“Go away,” Sasuke snarled. The curtain was already flapping in the doorway.
.
.
Sasuke stormed through the hideout after a botched assignment. What should have been a simple scouting mission had turned into a bloodbath after a surprise ambush. The hidden villages were growing more hostile and clever as the day of the attack drew nearer. 
He didn’t pay attention to his loud footsteps, the eyes following him in fear, until a figure darted into his path. One of Sakura’s attendants, blocking his way with an outstretched arm, a finger held to her lips. 
“What?”
“She's asleep.” Her voice was hushed, like discussing a sleeping god. Not his old, annoying pink-haired teammate. 
Sasuke stepped back. “So?”
“It's the first time in three days.”
Sasuke realized the hideout was utterly quiet except for their conversation. If he listened hard enough he might hear snow falling outside. 
An old memory flashed through him. When they were genin, taking missions as a team, how much Sakura hated waking up in the morning. She’d groan and clutch her pillow, though she’d always get up and help him with their breakfast anyway. That Sakura would never struggle to fall asleep for three days. How things had changed.
Sasuke knew when she woke up, because the deathly silence in the compound lifted. Foot traffic picked up again, the scent of cooking food from the mess hall drifted through the halls.
He walked down the twisted passageway to the metal door, following the route he’d memorized, though he hadn’t ventured this way since Konan led him the first time. He pushed open the doors without knocking.
A wide futon was spread on the ground, where Sakura lay against soft pillows. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell from the stiffness of her shoulders that she was awake.
“Sakura,” he said.
Her head turned, set deep in the pillows like it held a heavy weight. She did not look surprised to see him, did not ask why he’d avoided her for weeks. “Sit down.”
With some reluctance, he lowered himself on the edge of the futon. Steam curled in the air, and water gurgled somewhere hidden, feeding the spring. Beneath the blanket, Sakura’s legs shifted gingerly.
“What happened to you?” he said.
“It’s this world,” she said. “Person after person, sent out to get killed. To protect someone else’s money, or goods, or to fight in pointless wars. And the survivors, they sent them all to me. It never ended.”
She closed her eyes again. “I healed, and healed, until something inside me broke. I couldn’t make chakra anymore. Without my seal I would have died then and there.”
Without meaning to, Sasuke’s hand stretched out, brushing her forehead, where the mark lay. Her brow was feverishly hot. 
“That’s nice,” she whispered. He was about to pull away, but his fingers changed course, trailing into her hair, drawing a sigh. He didn’t know what to do. It was a long time since he’d tried to be gentle. He tried to think of what he liked as a child, the comforting touches he received from his mother, or Itachi, a lifetime ago.
When he finally lifted his hand, the cords of her neck seemed less tense, her head less heavy on the pillow.
She exhaled. “I was dying. I’d given everything away, but still they wanted more. That’s why I’m here. The way this world is, it can’t go on. Everything I have left is going into changing it.”
“This world won’t change,” he muttered.
A thin arm emerged from the blankets, fumbling at her bedside for her glasses. She slipped the frames on, appraising him with large eyes. “Then why are you here?”
.
.
This new Sakura was a stranger in many ways. She carried herself with a quiet calmness, a stillness, like she’d lived longer than her years. When she walked down the corridors of the hideout, heads bowed. At gatherings, she barely needed to speak louder than a whisper, because everyone listening hung onto her every word. 
Knowing she favored him, the members of the Akatsuki looked differently at Sasuke, too. They brought him into their meeting rooms, seeking his advice and ideas. He learned why each of them wanted to destroy the shinobi system. Its claws had harmed others beyond himself. He started to believe they could truly build something new. Something better, that would never force older brothers into cruel and heartless choices.
When Sasuke returned from a mission he found Sakura sitting on a ledge under the stars, snow gently falling around her. They were high up on the mountain, but the sky was white and hazy in all directions, so he could barely tell where they were or what lay in the distance beyond the haze.
“What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”
“I like the fresh air.”
He sat next to her, knowing it was useless to argue. Everyone knew Sakura did as she wanted. 
“My father used to use his katon on days like this. His fireball was strong enough to span the whole length of the lake. But when it was cold, he used it to warm his breath.”
“Show me,” she said.
His hands shaped the quick signs. When he exhaled, a soft puff of fire curled out, a flash of red and orange warming their icy surroundings. “Like this.”
Sakura watched him with furrowed brows. “Can you teach me?”
“Yes, but…” He stopped, tried again. “You can’t...”
“I can’t use my chakra,” she said. “But I can still learn.”
He took her hands. “Serpent, ram, monkey, boar, horse, tiger.” He didn’t need to, but he shaped her fingers through the signs. “Pull the chakra into your throat. Let it churn. Exhale.”
Sakura mimed the signs, paused in concentration so the chakra could build. Of course, it was only pretend. She exhaled. Her cold breath hung in the air, the furthest thing from fire.
“Thank you. I understand now. Your katon always fascinated me.” She opened her eyes. “Once, I saw you practicing in the distance. I secretly hoped, one day, you would teach me yourself.”
Bitterness filled him. “Not like this.”
“This is enough,” she said, her voice kind.
He thought about young Sakura—energetic and talkative, irritating, nervous around him. He pictured her, watching as he exhaled fire, wishing. The way her voice sounded as she spoke to his back, because he didn’t have the strength to turn and look at her, begging him to stay, or to take her with him. 
“Did you mean what you said? The night I left?”
For once she didn’t meet his eyes. “That I loved you? Yes, I meant it.” Then her calm returned. “I’m glad you’ve thought about it since then.”
He felt the urge to throw her off guard, to catch a glimpse of the girl from his memories.
“You still love me,” he accused.
Her eyes seemed to sadden. She touched his face, her hand growing warm. He wrenched away, but it was too late. A cut on his cheek was healed. 
He held his cheek like she had burned him. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m in control. I know how much I have left. Shouldn’t I be able to do what I want with it?”
Her hand remained outstretched. He gripped her wrist tightly, so tight it must hurt, and threw it away from himself.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
.
.
“Why are you always bathing?” Sasuke asked her once.
Shameless, she stood up in the bath, reaching for her robe. He tried very hard to ignore her body, only glancing up when he was sure the robe was around her. The front hung loose, only her hand clasping it together.
“It hurts less in the water.”
Her eyes always gave everything away. Even when they were kids. They said everything she was thinking. When he met her eyes now, he was dazed to find unguarded curiosity, desire. The difference now was she put it bluntly to words.
“Haven't you wondered?” she said.
He would be lying if he said he hadn’t. He was wondering now, painfully aware of how his body was reacting to her there, so close, so easy to touch. 
“It doesn't matter,” he said. “You’re—you’re sick.” Dying. But he couldn't say that. “I could hurt you.”
“I've never been as fragile as you thought I was.”
She let the cloak slip. It draped down low, revealing the narrow expanse from the hollow of her throat to the space between her breasts. Sasuke heard a small noise escape his throat, a strangled cry. And he was crossing the room, because he couldn't refuse her, not when it was something he also wanted so badly. Each footfall shed away the time and distance built up between them, laying in his wake like shed layers, so by the time he got to her he already felt naked. 
He walked straight into her touch, her palm pressing against his heart, the other curling around his nape. He slipped her glasses off, let them fall, secretly hoping they’d break on the stone ground. He hated them.
In the dark, as he leaned in to kiss her, he could almost imagine they were somewhere else. In a soft bedroom, in a life they lived together, elsewhere. But he could not ignore the echoes sounding off the rock walls, the feeling of emptiness handing over their heads, the cold pressing in.
.
.
Sasuke stared up at the sky, his back to the dirt.
Around him, battle was waging. The day they’d all been waiting for, fueled with Sakura’s remaining chakra, was almost over. He didn’t know which way the tide was pulling now. He could only feel the hole in his side and know for him it was over.
When he next opened his eyes, everything was green, like he was lying on the forest floor. It wasn’t what he expected death to be like. But Sakura was there, leaning over him. He smiled, washed with relief. At least, even in this place, they had found each other. It was such a comfort, it didn’t matter to him what happened next.
He tried to sit up, and pain tore through him, though it was fading quickly. His eyelids drooped. Sakura’s hands shifted across his body, so warm.
“Can I go back to sleep?” he mumbled.
She cupped his cheek. “Yes, my love.”
He almost listened to her, but strange sounds reached his ears. Metal clashing, screaming. He cracked open his heavy eyes. A body lay close by, red staining the ground beneath. Above him, Sakura’s face was streaked with dirt and tears.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
“My part is over,” she said, hands rooted to his chest like an ancient tree to the earth, unwavering and sure. “I have some left. Just enough.”
His body rippled with an electric shock. “Don’t, Sakura!” 
He struggled to move, but she held him down with an iron grip.
“Just take it!” she cried. “What else would I do with it?”
It was always coming to this, he knew. But he wasn’t ready. He needed her to stay just a little longer. There was so much he still needed to tell her. 
“One more day,” he begged. “You could stay just one more day.” 
Her green eyes were like a storm, and as she steamed the last of her chakra into him, she didn’t look like she was dying. She looked as strong as he remembered. “If I stop now you’ll die.”
That night, when he left the village, he should have taken her with him. Taken her far, far, away. Why had he left her there? What use were his prized eyes and Uchiha blood if he couldn’t see the right choice to make? 
“Don't leave,” he gasped. It was hard to see her, tears blurring his vision. “Please don't leave.”
Her hands softly slipped from his chest. “It’s okay, Sasuke-kun.” Her voice came from far away. “Just go back to sleep.”
The mark faded from her forehead like a star at dawn.
.
.
Konoha fell. The world was raw and overturned. Burning, and growing, and burning, and growing. One day, Sasuke would want to see it. For now he returned to the mountain, to Sakura’s pool.
He floated in the water, weightless, aching with the life she’d given him.
.
.
.
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notes: a longer multi chapter is coming soon, but for now take this, and sorry
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