#like ah yes lets make this the preferred transport method
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forever baffled that americans chose cars over trains as transport like. who the hell actually likes driving and paying too much money per gas stop. literally everything abt cars sucks
#the wolfs howl#not to even mention how deadly cars are like#both for pedestrians and drivers tbh#like ah yes lets make this the preferred transport method#if i could i’d literally take busses and trans everywhere and im so serious
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Nie Huaisang spends so long trying to avoid saber practice/cultivation work in general, accidentally invents loads of magis escaping/supressing techniques. Accidentally developps a whole new school of anti cultivation methods. Accidentally becomes useful in a war effort, or incresing the Nie miltary power, or whichever you decide. It's all Da-ge's fault anyway.
“Seriously?” Nie Mingjue said, looking up at where Nie Huaisang had managed to get into a tree. “This is the extent to which you’re unwilling to train, is it?”
“I’m very serious, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said earnestly, clinging to the trunk for dear life.
“You’re stuck in the tree is what you are.”
“…possibly yes.”
“Possibly?” Nie Mingjue crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think ‘possibly’ gets da-ge to climb up there and carry you down.”
“…definitely yes. Please help?”
“How did you even get up here?” Nie Mingjue complained, shuffling up the tree with his hands and knees. He would’ve preferred to fly with Baxia, but the tree was tight against the wall and he wasn’t quite good enough at balancing on her just yet; he couldn’t risk harming Nie Huaisang if he took a tumble. “You are not strong enough to climb this tree.”
“It was an accident,” Nie Huaisang said. “It won’t happen again! I promise!”
“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue said. “Like I believe that.”
-
“I really thought I’d worked out all the kinks this time!” Nie Huaisang protested. “I swear!”
“I believe you,” Nie Mingjue said. “In the sense that I believe that’s what you thought.”
“Rude, da-ge.”
“Mm. Too rude to help you down from the tower?”
“Da-ge!”
-
“Have you ever considered – just maybe – that the amount of effort involved in using your modified transportation array to try to flee from saber training is more than what it would have been to just attend training?” Nie Mingjue asked, glaring.
“It’s the principle of the matter!”
“Well done, Huaisang. You’ve found the one situation where principle are not going to help you. Down! Now!”
“But –”
“Now!”
-
“Why do you care so much about me training the saber?” Nie Huaisang asked way back in the beginning, pressing his face into his brother’s shoulder. He felt more than heard his brother’s sigh, the inhale and slow exhale.
“It’s our tradition, Huaisang,” his brother murmured. “Our father’s, his father’s, and our ancestors before them, right up to the founder of our sect. All of them cultivated the saber, and in so doing won renown…how can we do any less?”
“You have plenty of renown for the both of us,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “What does it matter if I don’t earn any? I’ll cling to your thigh and live a happy life instead.”
“Huaisang…”
“It’s not like I don’t know all the sect principles! So what if the practical portion is a little underdeveloped –”
“There’s going to be a war,” his brother said suddenly, and Nie Huaisang fell silent. “A long and terrible war, in which many people will die. If you don’t train, if you don’t get strong, one of the ones that die could be you. That’s why I want you to train.”
Nie Huaisang frowned. That was a problem – but maybe he could solve it another way?
-
“See, the way the array works is that even if someone tries to kill me, I’ll be somewhere else!”
“So, like a transportation talisman?” Nie Mingjue said doubtfully.
“More like a transportation array,” Nie Huaisang corrected. “Talisman users have to train for years and years to get good at using the talisman, and even then they can only use it until the talisman’s gone. This array is simple and has low energy requirements.”
“Mm. So what’s the downside?”
“Ah. That.”
“Yes, that. Nothing’s free in life. What’s the downside?”
“Well, I mean, there’s…well. I haven’t quite solved the issue of – aiming.”
-
“You need to keep this array of yours a secret,” Nie Mingjue scolded. “You’re always talking about the advantage of surprise, right? Well, there won’t be a surprise if you tell everyone about it!”
“The whole point of it was to get me out of saber training,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “It didn’t do that, either, did it?”
“The amount of saber training I make you do is less than a third of what I do,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “If you’d prefer to switch –”
“This is fine!” Nie Huaisang yelped. “I just – don’t understand why it’s necessary at all, you know?”
“Let me lay out a scenario for you: someone attacks you, you activate the array, you disappear. However, due to the lack of aiming, you appear right behind the attacker. All he needs to do to gut you is turn around, and activating the array a second time will take time. What do you do?”
“…stab him first.”
“Exactly.”
-
“Do you want to learn how to use the array?” Nie Huaisang asked.
“I’m not going to stop cultivating Baxia,” Nie Mingjue said.
“I know, I know,” Nie Huaisang said. “But you could supervise me better if you knew what I was doing.”
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, and Nie Huaisang sighed. Looked like his latest attempt to spend more time with his brother was doomed to failure.
But then, unexpectedly, Nie Mingjue said, “Let me finish this letter and I’ll come with you.”
“You – you will?”
“Someone’s got to supervise you, don’t they? And clearly that’s going to be me.”
Nie Huaisang beamed.
-
“You saved my life,” Nie Mingjue said when he finished hugging him very enthusiastically, and Nie Huaisang stared at him. “You did!”
“Me?” Nie Huaisang said doubtfully. “But – how?”
Nie Mingjue just patted him on the back and left.
“Nie-er-gongzi,” another voice said, and Nie Huaisang turned to see a somewhat bedraggled looking Meng Yao, who smiled shakily at him. “I hear we have you to thank for your brother’s – uh – unique fighting style?”
“…me? Fighting style?”
“The one where he disappeared and appeared all over the room while attacking Wen Ruohan?”
Nie Huaisang coughed. “Oh, that. Uh, yeah. That one’s me.”
“It’s really interesting,” Meng Yao said, and his smile looked a little steadier now. “Mind teaching me?”
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Hi🖤 Omni! If you're looking for a fic request I've got one.
Okay so Essek is Feeblminded by remaining Volstrucker at his tower. Verin came to visit later that day and has been taling care of Essek, as they both would be scared of the Umavi's wrath should someone find out.
Well Caleb comes to visit a few day's later and Certainly gets a surprise.
Fluff ensues.
I'm talking the Unicorn from Despicable Me level Fluffy😁😁😁
Hi Umbra! Sorry I'm incredibly late answering this, life is weird but I hope the length makes up for it! I know I said drabble but like this just turned into a whole fic so I hope you enjoy!
Verin had worried when Essek’s door hadn’t opened of its own accord, usually he knows when he’s arrived. Deciding something was certainly wrong he barges his way into his brother’s tower. He finds it silent which is normal but unnerving and the unnatural stillness as he calls for Essek has his hackles up.
His knuckles pale as he grips the hilt of his sword and searches methodically throughout the tower. Finding the main floor empty he heads up the stairs to the library. There’s a shuffle, a falling book, a whimper. He draws his sword, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The door is ajar and he can hear shuffling. He thrusts it open is momentarily relieved to see his brother. His hair is tousled and white is stained with flecks of red, his robes are torn and his mantle is askew.
He’s never seen him like this before and his heart lurches. Surprise and fear are plastered across his features, far more freely than Verin’s ever seen him feel. He doesn’t talk and he seems to not even recognize him. Checking the rest of the room, the sword is returned to its sheath and Verin crouches, reaching a hand to Essek.
“Brother, what happened?” Silence, a whimper. “Essek? What’s wrong? It’s Verin, your brother.” His brows unknot, and the tension in his jaw slackens. There’s a looseness to his demeanor and as he stands he waves his hand as if to float, but nothing happens. He tries again and again. The first try was decisive, after watching him for so long Verin knows what it looks like when he casts it. The second time it’s not quite right, the third time it gets looser still. By the time Verin has stopped counting and Verin has grabbed Essek’s hands to calm him it seemed like Essek didn’t know what he was attempting to do.
“Is this some kind of spell? What happened?” His brother looks up with the face of a stranger. His eyes are open and sad, his ears fall just a touch and Essek leans in to hug Verin. He’s never wanted to do that before.
Verin hugs him back. “Oh Essie, what are we going to do?”
Caleb approaches Essek’s tower and is struck by immediate concern when the door doesn’t open for him. Essek always lets him in when he arrives, and with everything that’s happened he immediately panics. Caleb tries to tell himself Essek must be busy and has missed him tripping the wards. So, he lifts the knocker and gives the door a few raps.
He’d asked Caleb to meet him here to assist in the transport of his most important items after their trip to Aeor. He needs to run, he knows it and Caleb knows that turning himself in to the Dynasty would mean certain death so he’s agreed to help. No amount of good will from the Bright Queen would let them bargain for his favour. Selfishly, Caleb won’t allow him to get caught, so he will harbor Essek for some time, helping him stay out of the eyes of the Dynasty.
Eventually he knocks again, beginning to hold a firebolt just in case. “Uh, just a minute,” calls a stranger’s voice from behind the wood. “I’ll be right there.”
The door opens just a crack, “Who is it?”
“I am Caleb Widogast of the Mighty Nein, who is this?” His hand is up and encircled in flame.
“Oh thank the Light, one moment.” Whoever he is, he’s clearly relieved. Caleb’s firebolt stays held.
As the door opens Caleb is greeted by a tall drow, muscular with long braided back hair. He looks familiar but Caleb cannot place him. His features are slowly fading into relief from what must have been a deep concern. “Hello Caleb Widogast, I am Verin Thelyss and I am so glad you’re here. Your the wizard yes?”
Nodding, bewildered as he’s being dragged into Essek’s home by his brother, Caleb can hardly remember to respond, “Uh ja, that’s me. Where is Essek?”
“Well so I came by a few days ago and he didn’t let me into the tower which was weird. There have been some rumors going around and when our mother said he was back I had to ask. I don’t know if you know but… well it’s bad.”
He’s leading him upstairs as he explains and the back of Caleb’s neck is on fire. Verin doesn’t know, but there are rumors that are most likely true. Is he too late?
“So, I’m hoping since you also practice the arcane you might know what’s happened here and how to solve it.”
He leads Caleb into the library and Essek is seated on a chair idly flipping through a book far too quickly. It doesn’t even look like he’s reading, Caleb knows what he looks like when he’s reading. The quiet concentration and the tension it brings his jaw is completely missing. When Essek looks up at him there’s recognition but no words and when he rises to make his way to Caleb, he walks.
He’s wide-eyed and has a sweet smile across his face, it’s difficult to look away but if he doesn’t the heat rising in his cheeks will show. “Essek, what is it mein Freunde?”
No words. Why can’t he talk and why isn’t he floating?
“Essek?” A gentle hand reaches up to rest on his cheek and the heat takes over at the abrupt contact. Especially with Verin standing over his shoulder observing them. “Verin how long has he been like this?”
“About 2 days. I didn’t really know what had happened and if the Umavi found out well… I’m unsure what she would do.” Verin is a little more easier to map out than Essek had been initially and he’s been told enough stories about Dierta to understand the undercurrent of Verin’s words.
“Ja, I understand.” Verin starts at that and Caleb just continues past it, “I believe he has been affected by the spell Feeblemind. I - ah - have experience with this kind of thing. We have friends that can cure him but I will have to contact them, which I will not be able to do until tomorrow.”
Essek’s hand has wound its way into Caleb’s and he tries and fails miserably to contain the blush that he knows is spreading to his ears. Memories of little touches in Aeor flood back and Caleb pushes away thoughts of conversations he’d promised they’d have later, after Essek was safe. To call to attention this thing between them and get it out in the open before it drives him mad. Even if Essek’s feelings do not align with his it will be better to have it in the open.
“So this isn’t hurting him?”
Caleb turns to Essek, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He remembers a blur of time, when his mind had failed him. He remembers terror, looking down at his hands and not knowing whose they were. He didn’t have an anchor, nothing but his own thoughts, with someone there it might be different. Essek can’t understand him but the tone of voice seems to elicit some positive emotions and Essek squeezes his hand, a contented smile across his face, “He seems alright to me. It is unpleasant to be cut off from your casting, but he isn’t in pain and he isn’t alone.” It’s difficult to mitigate the emotion bleeding into his voice.
He pushes down memories of the years he’d been locked away and squeezes Essek’s hand back, reassuringly. “Have you gotten him to eat?”
Verin nods, “Occasionally. Probably not as much as he needs. I’m not exactly an excellent cook and nobody can see him like this so I’ve sent his staff away.”
“Alright, well I’ll just do this then.” he begins casting the tower, “I understand if you want to stay but if you need to go I can care for him.” he wants Verin to leave, he wants him gone so badly, to just take care of Essek properly without the shadow of somebody who doesn’t know hanging over them.
“I should be back to Bazzoxan soon. They’ll begin asking after me.” Caleb finishes casting the tower and leads Essek in. Just before he enters, Verin stops him, “You mean something to each other. I’ve never seen him act this way before, granted there’s an arcane influence but genuinely he has never smiled like he did when he saw you. I trust you with this because I think he would. Do not betray that.”
Caleb nods, “Of course not. We’ve faced the most difficult challenges of my life together and with our friends. I will care for him.” Verin seems satisfied with that and makes to leave, and Caleb enters the tower to find Essek waiting in the centre of the tower. He has an idea of where he wants to go. As the tower door closes behind Verin, he and Essek begin to drift upwards. Essek opens his mouth as if to reflexively murmur ‘up’ as had become their custom in their long travels together and his brows knot in distress, as if he’s realized again that his voice will not come. Caleb reaches for his hand, to comfort him and says it for them both, to which Essek smiles.
The drow releases Caleb’s hand and begins to swirl around, never leaving the central column and Caleb is forced to mirror his motions lest they collide. He flashes back to a moment of levity when they’d first come to Aeor. They had showboated then, dancing around each other as their works often did. This Essek is less restrained and his eyes and nose crinkle into a genuine smile when Caleb joins his frivolity.
They stop at the ninth floor which Caleb had known to be Esseks’ destination and immediately Essek lays on the pillows he always places in the corner. Usually, on their research expedition, he tranced in his room but on particularly emotional days they both preferred an expanse of stars above them as they rested. It became tradition and over time they’d drifted closer and closer together, until they would sometimes come to consciousness to find that through the night Essek had curled into Caleb’s side or that their hands had wound together unknowingly.
Now, Essek’s eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open in wonder as though it’s his first time seeing it all over again. Caleb stands over him, following his gaze up to the idly shifting starscape above. Caleb is quickly distracted by the versions of them that traverse different paths. Sometimes in each other’s company, other times in solitude. In a few they hold hands or make contact at the shoulders. Those are the ones he likes the most.
When his gaze is pulled back downwards, Essek stares up at him with a tenderness that quickly turns to expectation. He’s arranged burgundy cushions across the floor beside him for Caleb and so he obliges. As he stretches out across the crude bed slender, cool fingers interlock his own and he lays back and tells Essek of the constellations he’s hidden among the stars.
When Caleb himself was in this state he remembered lacking familiarity. Nothing around him made sense and the upheaval of his life only moments prior had only amplified the disorientation of the magic that kept him prisoner for 11 years.
Essek has someone to watch over him, he’s in a place that evidently brings him much joy and in recent months he’s found himself halfway to peace. Caleb finds his heart swell at the idea of making this experience bearable.
The silence was always the worst so he points to guide the elf’s eyes as he tells them the stories behind each constellation. He tells him of Nila, gentle and fierce. Of Twiggy, ever optimistic and wholly delightful. He tells him about Reani who Essek has spent some time with. Brief recognition flashes across his face, though it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Caleb remembers. He remembers knowing that someone was there who he should recognize but not having the words to know he had forgotten their name. He was in terror and treated everyone as a threat. Essek treats everything with wonder and discovery. The innocence is sweet and a syrupy feeling pools in Caleb’s throat as he’s again confronted with the way his heart swells when Essek looks at Caleb with that same contented smile.
He scoots closer and this is entirely too much. The idea that this version of Essek may curl into his side willingly, while they were fully conscious where the other version cannot unsettles him. Instead he stands, offering his hand, “Why don’t we get you something to eat ja?” There’s a momentary droop of his ears, much more pronounced than any movement he’d seen before before he lifts Essek and they go down to the dining room.
If there is to be anything significant between them it cannot be spurred under these circumstances. Caleb has to know he means it. As they wait while he cats prepare what had become their usual fare while traversing Aeor, he defaults to telling stories. First he tells him of the tunnels they traversed to reach the Dynasty, crafting an illusion as well as he can of the crystalline caves they made camp in. Food arrives and he continues weaving story and image as Essek picks at the well spiced soup comprised mainly of squash and potato. As he crafts an illusion of the dragon turtle they’d fought just after the peace talks out of amber and morphs its shape to a smaller turtle and then a sea slug, laughing to himself at the absurdity, he notices the clink of Essek’s spoon has long subsided.
Glancing over electric eyes focus on him instead of the illusion, so he drops it. “Ah, Es tut mir Leid, I know I tend to get carried away.” A little contented noise bubbles from Essek’s throat and his heart squeezes. In a desperate attempt to try and get Essek to eat more he turns back to his own soup and looks expectantly over to his friend.
Giving him a look of exasperation, he mirrors Caleb and eats most of the soup. Caleb rips up bread and encourages him to dip it in what’s left of the soup and finally, the bowl is empty. They leave the cats to clean up and Essek’s hand grasps Caleb’s again and squeezes. He knows he shouldn’t draw conclusions or let himself be taken by these gestures that the man wouldn’t make if he’d had the presence of mind, but it’s turning into a losing game.
With the time spent on the ninth floor and the prolonged battle of coaxing Essek to eat they only have a few hours until sleep. Essek takes his customary seat on the couch in the study and Caleb withdraws some of the lighter fiction that now populates the shelves. Lying back on the sofa, feet resting on the armrest, head by Essek he holds up the copy of Der Katzenprinz to show the illustrations. “You seem to like hearing me talk so why don’t I share this with you? Either way you won’t understand what I say so I will read it to you as it was originally intended.”
He begins, in Zemnian to tell him the fairy story that had brought him so much joy as a child, and the cats bring them hot chocolate as instructed. Warm mug in hand, Essek sits patiently through the story and as it turns to a close, picks up another of the books Caleb has gathered and thrusts it upon his chest. A real laugh bubbles up at that and he obliges.
As the night winds on and the mugs are emptied, Essek’s hand winds its way through Caleb’s hair, gently combing. When he looks up at Essek he’s met with soft, drooping eyes and a plain smile laced with nothing but care. He tries to stop Essek over the course of the book but finds that the drow always goes back to his hair so eventually, he leaves it. When Essek’s breaths even and elongate and he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open, Caleb sends him to trance.
He’s met with a slightly mournful look as Essek settles into the cushions he’s provided for trancing, but Caleb squeezes his shoulder, “If something goes wrong the cats will know to come get me. This is for the best.” Looking not at all reassured, but staying in place, Essek lets him leave without protest.
In the middle of sleep, dreamless and warm, there’s pressure. Then a caterwaul cuts through his subconscious followed by several more. He awakes with a start and immediately the cats gather around his feet as he pulls on slippers. They lead him to Essek’s room, where through the closed doors he can hear the sounds of furniture being disturbed.
Barging in, heart pounding, he finds Essek with tears streaming down his face. “Essek Schatz what’s wrong?” He kneels, abandoning any sense of propriety or boundaries and as he collapses into Caleb’s arms with nearly silent sobs he’s struck by how small the other man is.
“It’s alright Essek, whatever it was it cannot hurt you. I will keep you safe as you have done me.” They’ve never talked about the nights when the cats would do the same to Essek as they’d done to Caleb. When he’d been awoken from nightmares with angry red scratches down his forearms and a friend to bandage them. They’ve never quite discussed the comfort in Essek trancing just beside Caleb’s bed on difficult nights and he’s tried to stifle contemplation about the safety the man brings to his subconscious. The timing wasn’t right and despite his own longing he couldn’t make that step towards Essek. Not then.
Now, however, the elf shudders in his arms and he brings him into his lap, lighting soft amber globules of light to examine Essek. When he finds no physical harm he puts them out again and draws him in tighter as Essek clutches at the sides of his nightshirt and curls into his chest. He sings gentle lullabies his mother had once used to soothe him, voice cracking slightly as he flexes it in a long forgotten way. Eventually the shaking stops and breath becomes more solid, but hands stay grasped into his shirt so, with assistance from the cats, he maneuvers them into an easier sleeping position. Ever determined, Essek stays in his arms the whole time and when he tries to encourage him to trance beside him, arms wind around his waist.
“Okay, okay. If this will help.” Caleb resigns himself to creaky joints the next morning and sleeps with Essek in his arms, pushing away any indulgent thoughts of future nights spent with him in the same orientation.
When he awakes Essek is gone from his lap, though their fingers are laced and his head rests atop the drow’s on his shoulder. “Guten Morgen Essek.” He startles and smiles over at Caleb. Open, honest, vulnerable. They need to fix this. “I just need to prepare and then we will see Jester ja?” He receives a blank stare in return and nods to himself. “I will be back in a few moments and then we will go to Nicodranas. Just wait here.” He leaves and dresses quickly, returning to find Essek essentially where he’d been left. He takes a moment to glance over his spellbook and concentrates as he casts Sending, “Hallo Jester, I need your assistance with a pretty big restoration. Can you help today?”
She sounds half-asleep as she responds, “Caleb? Oh hi! Yeah I can help, just come to mama’s, we’re in Nicodranas. Oh my gosh I have to tell you, the dragon turtle-” her word economy same as ever.
“Okay Essek, Jester can help. I don’t know where you kept your parasol but I’m sure she can make you another.” With that they head out the door and Caleb transports them safely to the Lavish Chateau. Essek’s hand never leaves his.
Upon arrival they’re beset by a shouted greeting and Jester crushes Caleb in a hug before even realizing the other man is there. “Ohmigod Essek hi! I missed you!” Instead of awkwardly patting her back as he usually does, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in. “Hey Caleb, what’s going on with Essek?”
She pulls back and sees his broad smile and dancing eyes and looks at Caleb distinctly concerned. “Ah- I’m afraid he is a victim of the Feeblemind spell. It’s what they used against me in… well.” Her face clouds with understanding. “He’s okay physically though, whoever attacked him clearly just needed him out of the way. If you can use Greater Restoration that will undo the effects. He’s been ah - rather clingy.”
She waggles her eyebrows at him, making suggestive noise, and gets out the required diamond dust, sprinkling it delicately over Essek who watches in wonder. She puts both hands on her shoulders and green radiant energy emanates from her and passes to him. Before long he’s shaking his head and stepping back, voice hoarse from disuse, “Where- Jester? Thank you oh my gods thank you.”
She grins back at him, “I’m glad you’re back Essek! It’s a good thing Caleb brought you here you were acting so weird-”
She’s cut off as he chokes out, “Caleb.” and looks over with a deep violet flush and wide, apologetic eyes. “I ah- I am sorry for putting you through that. I-”
“Nein, do not apologize. Maybe we should get back to your tower to try and piece together who did this to you and what they were after ja?’
Essek nods and casts his levitation cantrip, shoulders sagging with relief when it works. “Yes, of course. Thank you Jester, I’m sorry we can’t stay but-”
She hugs the both of them again, “It’s okay, you have lots to talk about probably I don’t know bye!” she gives Caleb a wink as he begins casting the spell again and to his surprise Essek’s hand winds itself in his as they vanish.
They’re back in the tower and Caleb looks down, Essek’s hand still in his. Essek drops it and there’s a flush set deep into his cheeks and it spreads to his cheeks as their eyes meet. “Caleb I-” he swallows “I remember most of what happened, though not very clearly. I um-” his eyes are downcast and Caleb braces for what he believes to be coming, “Thank you for your patience. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable it is very difficult to explain but I think you’re aware of the feeling. I didn’t exactly have my full faculties and I fear I broke boundaries that may have encroached too far on your hospitality and our friendship.”
It’s difficult to see him so apologetic for the affection displayed. This thing between them has gone unspoken quite too long and before he realizes it he’s speaking, “Don’t apologize for that Schatz, I ah- I didn’t mind. There’s something I think we ought to discuss fairly plainly because I do not want to mince words about the way I feel anymore, it’s tiring.”
Essek looks up to meet him, steeling himself and as Caleb is about to speak he cuts him off, “I am aware enough of how I acted to realize I cannot properly hide my feelings further.” He takes a deep breath, the back of Caleb’s neck is burning and time has all but frozen, “I care deeply for you Caleb. It is difficult to bring myself to those words for I know this is the last thing I deserve but here I am, a fool for you. I know that there were moments in Aeor, I hold them close to my heart as precious things in a life of solitude. If you do not do the same, if you do not feel the same I will remain your friend if you’ll allow it, your research partner, anything. But-” he looks down almost sheepishly, “I owe it to you to be forthright and so I will tell you that if you’ll have me, I would very much like to see where this takes us.”
A smile breaks across Caleb’s face as their eyes meet, “May I kiss you?”
Essek draws in a sharp breath, eyes wide, and nods. It takes Caleb only a moment to close the gap, hands sliding around Essek’s waist and over the back of his neck as he leads them together. Essek’s hands hold his shoulders and his eyes flutter closed as their lips meet, electricity and heat mixing. When they finally pull back they’re both flushed. Essek lets out a huff of a laugh and Caleb wraps him tightly as he brings him in again, smiling into another kiss.
#shadowgast#critical role#essek thelyss#caleb widogast#the mighty nein#cr fanfic#cr#critrole#fan fiction#archive of our own#omniwrites
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Fallout
After the events of a terribly off-track recon mission at a remote Garlean castrum, the infiltrators ended up leaving with one more person than they came with... a near-mortally wounded young soldier kidnapped rescued by Deccan Aurelius.
With the youth near death from his injuries, the rogue tesserarius had to find someone to help...
(forgive the back-and-forth tenses; this is a transcript of RP rather than short fiction.)
Adelle hurried out through the door to a hallway in the rear of the house, dressed in her usual brown cloak and skirt. One sleeve looked s bit charred, but otherwise there wasn't so much as a thread out of place. The small raen woman who had greeted Deccan, Naino, bowed at the waist and slipped downstairs to put together a tray of tea and cakes. From the hall was the busy chatter of people, the guffawing laugh of someone amused and a hammer as another person did their best to repair a ceiling. A small green Au Ra glanced their way and vanished out the door trailing pipe smoke, and a raven haired Roegadyn excused herself as she dragged in several planks of dry wood. "Lovely to see you again, Deccan. Come, I have a private office where we can speak. Do you have a preference for tea or coffee?"
The big blond man nods.. he looks a bit different than the last time she saw him; short leather jacket, tank top, denim pants, practical boots but all in shades of dull tan and brown. Instead of the gunner's goggles he'd been sporting the night before, he wears a simple pair of frameless glasses on his aquiline nose. They don't seem very strong, though... the lenses don't distort his pale green eyes much, if at all. Odd. "Ah.... thank you for seeing me...." Dec glances at the few people in the area, "Actually... I think your office is probably advisable, given the circumstances."(edited)
"Certainly," she smiled, and gestured for him to follow down the winding corridors and a flight of stairs. Adelle opened the door and peered in, then urged him to make himself comfortable. The room was quiet, save for the heavy tick-tock of the chronometer, and smelled faintly of citrus and dried roses. A second desk faced them on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by bounty posters, armor polish and hunting gear. "Mist's desk," she explained as she claimed her usual high back chair. "Now please, speak freely. I keep the same privacy and discretion here that I do in my infirmary. Whatever you can tell me about my possible patient would be welcome."
Deccan's pale gaze seems to track around the room with an inordinate amount of care and practiced method, even as he eases himself into the proffered chair. It's like he's looking for.... something. Guards? Wards? Cameras? ...All three, likely. Eventually though, it returns to Adelle. "He was... ah. Rescued from the site of a conflict between Eorzean and Garlean forces. Though..." The man fidgets quietly. "his wounds predate the incident. I've been doing what I can to care for him, but he's got internal injuries and I think he's going septic. He's young, he has his whole life ahead of him... I don't want him to die...."
Adelle leaned forward. With her gloved fingers laced on the desk she frowned, and the branch-like scarring that curled up the side of her face tugged awkwardly at the corner of her mouth. "Which side was this man on? I assure you now, it makes no difference to me other than knowing how to help him." Her brows furrowed. "Well, if he will accept my help. That is a factor as well "(edited)
Deccan sighs, frowning vaguely, and tangles his fingers together. It's this behavior that may well indicate his 'fidgeting' is less displacement activity and more the fact that the scruffy blond man's hands shake nigh constantly. "He's... Garlean," the blond admits quietly. "That's why I was resistant to bringing him to more, eh..." He fishes for a good word, "... commonly accessible clinics, or the Conjurer's Guild. As for accepting your aid, he doesn't want to die either. Like I said, I'm no medicus... but I...remember that the one that had been seeing him indicated his chance of survival was low..." He scowls distantly at his hands. "I don't know, maybe it is too late, but I have to at least try."
"Does he receive aetheric healing without issue, or should I plan for other means?" She reached for a mosaic, gem-encrusted fountain pen and began scribbling on a sheet of loose parchment. "I could always use aetheric means and stabilize him after the fact..." She mused, tapping the pen against the desk's surface. "What are the extent of his injuries as you know them? And does he speak Eorzean?"
"I don't know," he admits, honestly enough. "I haven't really had a problem with it, but I know some people are really prone to aethersickness just from the exposure. As for his wounds... I'm pretty sure they're from arrows, or some other piercing weapon. But either he wasn't recovered quickly enough, or they were poisoned with something... or I don't know, that part of La Noscea is a jungle and who knows what could have gotten to him..." He wrings his hands a little more, "I'm sorry, I don't know more..." As for speaking Eorzean, he nods, though the question surprises him. "He does, yes..."
"Easier for me, then. I can explain things to him. I am unfortunately a bit rusty..." She continues to write, scribbling various tools and medicines and potions. The Elezen lifted a hand to her linkpearl. "Naino? Forgo the tea. Can you see if Silas is available? No, not Cassius. The first Silas. Thank you." She smiled. "You have told me plenty. Who is he currently with? Do you leave him alone?"
Deccan nods slightly. "He's... at my place. He's safe; it's quiet there and I know no one will find him. I don't really have a choice but to leave him alone... but I did set up a bit monitoring system that alerts me if something happens. I don't leave him alone for very long, though." He pulls out a battered Garlean-made tomestone and shows it to her.
She nodded, although the tomestone gave her reason to pause. Adelle seemed to stiffen some in her comfortable chair, and drew in a deep breath as though to steady herself. "We will need to go swiftly then. Naino will let me know if Silas is available, although I am beginning to see that you are...quite desperate. What would you have done if I had reported you to the authorities for harboring what amounts to a criminal?" Adelle capped the pen and slipped it into her desk. "How long has he been ill?"
Deccan fidgets with the 'stone quietly. "I... don't know," he admits, frowning a little. "Milloux knows about my background; I figured if she vouched for you, you would at least be inclined to hear me out instead of just... following the party line." His pale eyes lift, "I'd like to think that was a point of common ground, actually," he continues. "I've been talking to him. Explaining things. He's no criminal, I know that much... just a soldier in a war that was set in motion by forces none of us can stop. All anyone can do is try to stem the bleeding..." He sighs, pushing himself to his feet, "I can't answer that either. I don't have any of his paperwork... but I know he's not doing well. Maybe... about a week?"
"So long?" Her sapphire eyes widened. "Twelve, then perhaps we have even less time to discuss this than I thought." Adelle stood and rounded the desk, hurrying to the door. She left it open as she nearly ran down the hallway and passed off the note she'd scribbled to someone else, then made her way back to the office. On her return she had a weathered, walnut cane in hand. Expertly she clipped it to the mount sewn into the back of her cloak, and beckoned for him to follow. "My apologies. I had no idea it had been so long. I would have suggested I come your way at once. I have my staff preparing my things for me. Is there anything else I should know?"
Deccan jogs after her, now looking more concerned than he did at the start. "Ah... not that I know of. I live... um. You know where the Sultana's Breath is, yes? In the Goblet. I can meet you there..." At least it's not anywhere strange or unfamiliar.
"I do. Which ward?" She glanced briefly back over her shoulder at him and paused briefly at the infirmary door. Her leather medical satchel was already within easy reach, and clinked tellingly as she snatched it up. Dozer perked his head at the sight of her and wagged his tail. After a moment of hesitation she whistled, and the little terrier bolted to her side. A few commands had him sticking close, his attention fully on her. He didn't even go for a sniff of Deccan's boots.
"Twelfth ward," the big man says, stuffing his tomestone back into his pocket. "We can take my airship if you don't mind close quarters. It's not really intended to carry more than one but I'm sure it'd be fine since I didn't exactly arrive with cargo onboard." That said, he goes to head back outside, presumably toward his transportation.
She shook her head. "I will meet you there. I can take aethertyes without complication."
He doesn't seem all that surprised. "Well... all right. Don't go to the front door, go around back. I'll be there as soon as possible." The airship -is- there... small, single-man, and obviously an Ironworks manacutter, although it looks kind of banged up and secondhand. The big blond vaults into the cockpit, straps in, and starts it up, hovering just for a moment before wheeling to one side and lifting off, accelerating into the southern skies.
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Adelle was quick to bid farewell and, after Naino explained where Silas could be found in the house, hurried to find him herself. Peering in through the doorway, the elezen waved toward him. "Silas! I have a patient I would appreciate your help with. A Garlean man, and it sounds like he has been through more than I would like for a patient. I offered my help before I had the full story, and now I think it might be helpful to have you along. We will be at the Sultana's Breath apartments in Ward twelve. I have to hurry there, but please meet me if you can."
It would take awhile before Deccan manages to catch up.... airships, however fast, aren't instantaneous and can't compete with simply teleporting from place to place. If they go around the back, as instructed, they'll find... well... a small cactus garden, and one of the maintenance entrances. It lacks the ornamentation of the front portal, has a 'NO ENTRY' sign on it, and is, of course, locked.
"seventy and seven hells, Adelle." He sat bolt upright, turning to flash a hint of a panicked glare "what does he know?" Silas stood, closing the notes he had been working on, and began putting together his field kit. "And what do you know of the patient? How old? Is he military? Do you have a name?" He sighed, shaking his head and waving her off. "Never mind, hurry, I get it. I'll see you there, go."
She'd rushed out the door the moment he agreed, Dozer racing at her side. Thankfully getting to the Goblet was a mere blink, and another still to get to the apartments. Even better, she was a familiar enough face to ignore. Most people knew the blue duskwight with her little terrier who went from clinic to clinic, or chased him around the pool. So it meant nothing to simply wave as she meandered with the little alibi to the rear of the building. She lingered there while Dozer sniffed at the sand, ushering him away from the threatening cactus thorns. Now and again she lifted her head to shade her eyes against the sun.
It takes... an unfortunate while for Deccan to get there, around half a bell... though that in itself speaks to how fast he was moving. The battered manacutter has to take a sweeping arc around the apartments before he can bring it down behind the building... there's actually a cleared spot of desert where he's plainly been parking it, and he does so now. He vaults out of the cockpit and jogs over to the maintenance door. Dec pauses, glancing at the unfamiliar face but... he's with Adelle, and she did say she was bringing someone, so he doesn't object, instead moving to unlock the door. "This way. Watch your step..." He waves them both in, checks the exterior, then locks it again, before moving off down the hall. After passing through what's obviously the gardeners' workshop, he moves off down a bare hallway... then another, then past some storage rooms... a low rumble almost more felt than heard indicates their proximity to the great furnaces that heat the building during the icy Thanalan nights. He comes to what looks like the door to yet another storeroom... though this one has a rather more modern looking lock on it, for all that it's nondescript, blends into the wall, and only has a single red light on it. He produces a cermet key and swipes it.(edited)
Adelle followed with some small degree of worry, and let out some of the tension in her shoulders with a breath. The air still moved around her, caressed and whispered against her skin. She could feel earth and stone surrounding them, and water bubbled through pipes and faucets. She kept her attention on her surroundings, listened as much as she was able and then... She stared at the small device in undisguised shock, and at her side Dozer scratched behind one ear. Seemingly no threat, then. "Who knows you are down here, Deccan?"
He shrugs, "The gardeners. The maintenance men. That's all. It's... well... They aren't paid that well by the building supervisor, and I offered to help them out in exchange for a corner no one was using. Everyone's happy..." And the building officials have no record of his presence. He pushes the door open into a narrow cement corridor, unpainted, lined with pipes and slowly-rusting grilles. There -is- light here, filtering through dirty, somewhat cracked windows, but it's still dim, and the rumbling from the furnace is clearly audible. It's also warm and somewhat damp.
Deccan waves the two of them in, and once again ensures the door clicks shut behind them, the light turning back to red from its brief-lived green state. "He's right around the corner here."
Adelle swept her hand forward, and at once the air began to stir. A gentle breeze lifted in the enclosed room, ushering away the promise of mildew and rot. She'd seen what a nasty bit of lingering, damp air could do in the dark: she did grow fungus as a hobby. "Hello?" She called and, after a moment - "[Hello?]"
There might have been the hint of rustling, though it stops at the sounds of voices. Deccan speaks quickly after her, "It's me, I brought help...." The voice that responds is weak, and slightly slurred. [... pyr Aurelius? Did you... find a medicus...?] Dec winces visibly when the speaker uses his title, but just makes his way around the chain link gate to where, yes, a small living area has been set up. As long as one isn't claustrophobic, it's actually fairly comfortable, with a rug, a large cot, a low table with some few personal things on it. It's also occupied by the slight figure of a young man, his blue hair damp with sweat and his color... somewhat hard to determine, actually, in the dim light. It's not enough to conceal his bruise-darkened eyes though, or the unpleasant scent of someone with grave issues. To his credit, Deccan does seem to have propped the windows open here to let in the dry desert breeze, but it hasn't done much for the temperature, only the humidity. The air movement brought by his visitor does seem to help. [Leth, this is Adelle. You're going to have to trust her, even if her methods are unfamiliar. All right?]
"Sea and skies..." She muttered, and all doubt and unease was gone. She hurried forward and bowed as quickly as she could while still being polite. Her Garlean was out of practice and oddly accented to even her own ears. "[I am Adellenne. A Conjurer, but I know healing methods you will be comfortable with. This is my Second,]" she gestured to Silas. "[What happened? I need to know details so I use as little magick as possible.]" Her gaze drifted to Deccan. "Fresh water, boiled, and a lantern with an exposed flame." Adelle spun her hand in a lazy circle and drew in more fresh air through the window. The breeze smelled of spices and heat and sand and - distantly - the promise of a rain shower. "And clean bedding."
"I just changed it this morning," he protests, a little defensively. He -has- been doing his best to care for the youth, and there's a basket of soiled linens shoved up next to a stack of crates to back up his protests. "But... uh. I can probably scrounge up another set, just a moment..." Dec sidles around Silas and goes in search of sheets and the other items. The young man on the cot is obviously beyond the point of really caring who's asking him questions, and is probably just doing his best to stay awake and coherent. [We were ambushed on patrol... I couldn't really even see where they were coming from, it all happened so fast. I took a few arrows in the fight, but... I didn't think it was that bad... at first... they were only arrows...] He sort of trails off into a mumble, then forces himself awake again. [I was in the medical bay... when, um.] He stares at the ceiling for a bit. [... pyr Aurelius sort of, um. There was some kind of attack or something, haywire magitek armor units... I don't know what happened, but the next thing I knew, pyr Aurelius was running out of the Castrum with me. I... he said he was rescuing me...] Leth may or may not be sure this is what happened.(edited)
Adelle explained each step as she did it. She checked for fever, checked his pupils for a basic response, quickly unbound the bandages and even just how much give his skin had to it. "My first thought is cellulitis. This is not poison, it would show in his eyes and gums more than this. Likely just an infection, but very deep." She murmured to Silas, and half to herself. "[Breathe deeply for me, please.]" Adelle was already rummaging through her bag for what appeared to be a simple wooden tube. The elezen worked smoothly but quickly, and all the while slipped back into cooling the room and freshening the air.
Leth seems a bit happier just with the gentle drop in temperature, but it's small improvement. Unbinding his wounds at least proves that Deccan is at least well-skilled in field medicine; they're all packed well with gauze and while they could stand changing at this point, the dressing is probably only a couple of hours old. Still, the wounds are ugly; bloodless in the center, surrounded by halos of bruise-black and scarlet. It's the beginnings of tissue necrosis, although it seems his caretaker's efforts have held off the worst of it. The young soldier makes a few quietly distressed noises as she examines him, but he's too strung out at this point even to complain loudly. Deccan returns some time later, with a couple of (mismatched) sheets and one of the gardeners' lanterns. He hands these to Silas, who is a pair of apparently unoccupied hands, then goes to boil some water. Fortunately... that's not a big deal; Dec is a severe coffee addict, and there's a giant magitek pot in the other... well... 'room' is probably inaccurate, but. 'Space' will do.
Silas sets the lantern within Adelle's reach, but not so close as to be in her way. His grim silence breaks as he sighs, shaking his head at the sight of the wounds. "What in the hells are they teaching nowadays" he mutters to himself, low under his breath as he opens his own supply case, taking out what appears to be a heavily modified imperial shadow's visor, putting it on and playing with several dials on the side, the lenses on the front beginning to glow. " I hope you've something in mind Adelle. I've not got much in my arsenal for shite like this what ain't basically a knife."
Adelle looked at her gloves and stripped then from her hands, then pushed up her sleeves. The roping network of burn scars was on full display now. "Break a window, I need as much air and access to...to everything as I can possibly get. Silas, we need to cut away the dead tissue before I do anything with Conjury. If Garlean medicine could not save this man, then it means traditional means will not work." She reached into her bag and withdrew a vial of swirling purple liquid flecked with unfortunately recognizable pieces of morbol vine. "[I am going to do what I can, but it will hurt. Without my help you are more likely to die than not. Am I being clear?]" She held the vial out to him. "[This will make you sleep without dreams while we work.]"
Deccan returns with what's obviously a paint can, albeit one that's been thoroughly cleaned. Steam curls from the top as he sets it down on the low table by the head of the cot, next to the lantern. That done, he moves back to sit on a crate near the boilers out of the way, watching them. He does seem to be watching Silas more than Adelle... probably because he's got that visor on. For his part, Leth just nods vaguely; he's plainly having visible difficulty staying conscious, his violet eyes drifting closed despite obvious effort to the contrary. He -does- shoot a glance toward Deccan, as if confirming that this is all right, but eventually disengages a hand from under the sheet to take the vial and down it. Apparently he's not too sick to make a really disgusted face, though. "....ugh!" [What was in that st...mmngh...] Well, so much for 'barely conscious'.
Adelle reached out the moment he began to slump, familiar with the potency of her sedatives. The next moment she was laying him back and set Silas with the task of cutting away what was left of his clothes. "We need to cut away the necrotic tissue. It is already setting in, and combined with the fever he has very little time left. I can feel it, even without reaching out. I will be using Conjury on him but...as little as possible." Vials and bottles were withdrawn from her bag as she cleaned the wounds as well as her hands, and a sharply sterile smell filled the small space. "We cut away the tissue here, here and here. There, as well. Surgical debridment. Once the diseased flesh is removed I mean to use Conjury to..." She heaved a sigh and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "I mean to use Conjury for his fever and the infection in his blood. The moment I pull out my cane there is a vial of amber colored liquid with a pink label that you need to force down his throat. I used it to treat aether sickness in the past. It should keep him from going into shock." The elezen looked to Deccan. "After that, I have other treatments I can provde you that will help him recover. We get him through the surgery, keep him from slipping into shock, and we should be in the clear. I think he would prefer aether sickness to a coma or losing any limbs."
Silas cut away the youth's clothes, and turned back to his supplies. He pulled out what once was the core of a magitek bit, rotating it in his hands until he found the right side, activating a thin line of light which he passed around his hands and, rolling up his sleeves, his forearms. "How steady is your scalpel, Adelle?" He lifted the bit into the air, setting it floating, the light still beaming downwards. "If you want to save your energy for the fixing, I can do the cleanup. I've got an extra vial in my bag for y' as well, in case it's more'n you're expecting."
Deccan just shakes his head. "Do what you have to do," he rasps quietly. "Honestly... aether sickness passes, and I at least know how to deal with it. Better some fugitive malaise than... dying slowly on a cot in a warzone because your medicus has better things to do with his time..." His tone remains soft, but tinged with bitterness. A glance to the man standing nearby, then back down to the wounded soldier. Distractedly, he fumbles at a pocket in his coat with shaking fingers, then seems to clamp down on the habitual behavior and lowers his hand. Not that it stops twitching. "I just wish I could've done more for him," he mutters.
"Steady. This sun is fine so far, but I would appreciate having my strength reserved for the finer sealing of blood and organs. I have some concern that the infection is heading towards his heart." She glanced briefly at the bit and offered a wry smile before her gaze lingered on Deccan. "Take a few steps back, please. Once we start working I will need to be monitoring him fully and cannot worry about where you might be standing." She commanded Dozer to lay down toward the entryway, well out of sight and reach, then returned to Silas. "Ready when you are."
Deccan grunts softly. He'd thought he was out of the splash radius, but... he drops off his crate and moves back past the chain link gate before finding another crate to park on. It seems he still wants to watch... probably unsurprisingly.
"He should be fine," Adelle urged Deccan as she looked once more over the wounds. "Silas and I work well together, and I have yet to lose a patient. I even managed to sew the entirety of a man's fingers back to his hand. They even work." Hopefully the words were a comfort. The elezen sterilized the surgical tools she'd brought along, and laid them carefully on the nearest surface. At least she knew what she was doing.
Deccan nods a little, his gaze once more flicking over to Silas. HIs expression drifts thoughtful for a moment, brows furrowing, but then he seems to just shrug whatever it was off and move on. Not for the first time (or likely the last), he goes for his coat pocket... only to once more stop himself. Instead, he just stuffs his hands under his arms. A slight nod, "I figured," he says quietly. "Milloux wouldn't have suggested I speak with you if she didn't think you were good...." He glances out the dirty, slightly cracked window at the desert beyond. After awhile, he adds softly. "....Thank you for agreeing to help."
It was easy for Adelle and Silas to fall into the usual rhythm of surgery. The air continued its steady whirl around the room as it kept fresh air moving in the small space, and the light from Silas' bit cast a bright enough glow to work without difficulty. They worked in tandem with one another - passing tools, cleaning skin, adjusting position - like a well oiled machine. The lack of humidity in Ul'dah barely left enough sweat for her to bead on her brow. She could almost feel the infected pockets of flesh be removed, felt the grip of the fever loosen...Adelle kept her eye on the wounds and the moment she felt they were clear, she thrust her cane over the man's body and stretched out her hand. A new ethereal light flooded the narrow chamber. She could see it even with her eyes closed. There! There was the worst of it! If she could just... Adelle clenched her hand as though she'd crushed something in it. "I-I think...I think that should do it."
If nothing else, the young soldier is... above all... young. And with youth comes a certain degree of resilience and vibrance of life. It was still bad... another day or two without direct care and the likelihood of sepsis and organ failure would have been nearly unavoidable. But care he received, and his body... his aether, still present even if displaying that curious stubborn inertia that his people's do... actually seems to respond without unexpected resistance as she draws out the poisoned aether that remains after the poisoned tissue has been excised. He's going to have some nasty scars, but at least their area is comparatively small. All this while he hasn't stirred, still sleeping the dreamless sleep of the excessively drugged, but his fever-sweat is already starting to dry rather than being replenished. Deccan, for his part.... just watches. He notes the bit, notes the procedure... but says nothing; barely even moving. In truth, he seems a man to whom watching in stillness is... if not natural, then carefully trained. There's not even any sound from him until she speaks. "He'll... recover?"
She staggered back with a nod and the foul taste of rot at the back of her throat. "I have two bottles of a tonic you can give him over the next few suns. No more than one spoonful every four bells, but the fever will break and he should be back to his usual self in no time," Dozer finally approached - the little dog left his commanded place to set a paw on her foot. She looked down at him and sighed, then withdrew a bottle of white pills from her pocket. The Elezen swallowed one dry. "I should be going. If he does not wake by noon tomorrow, get an ammonia capsule and break it under his nose. That should work."
The big blond Garlean nods a little, looking between the two, then rummages a card out of his pocket and a pencil. He scrawls a pearl number on the back, then slides off his crate to offer it to the healer. "I don't have much," he says quietly, looking between her and her associate, "But... I owe both of you. If you ever need anything... information, contacts, even my rifle, for all that I'm not what I was anymore... don't hesitate to call me. Okay?" The card is for the Shroudrose Teahouse... a cream colored rectangle with awfully floral and feminine lacework printed all over it. The pencil marks on the back are rough and dark, as if he had trouble controlling the pencil, but they're legible.
She reached out to take the card, and offered him a small smile. "Information and contacts might be helpful, actually. We will be in touch. I would like to come check your ward within the next few suns, if that is permissible. Unless you have another healer you work with at the Teahouse?" Adelle pocketed the card without a second glance. "If not, just watch for the brightening of his eyes or a return of a fever. You did a fine job keeping him alive. If not for your help, he likely would have died well before we arrived. It is more likely than not that you saved his life."
Deccan nods again. "...Of course. Just ping me and I'll let you in. The...ah. maintenance guys won't let you in otherwise...." A pause, then he looks a little wry, "Well, unless you pay them to. Anyhow..." He trails off, looking at the pale figure on the cot, "... I'll be sure to keep a close eye on him. And give him the tonics when he comes to. "Ah... there is one healer," he admits, "But she's been very busy lately and I haven't seen her in some time. Family business, I think." He ventures a slight smile, "Oh and... if you come by sometime, order whatever you like and tell whoever's on the counter that it's on me. I still haven't gotten them to add bagels to the menu, but they keep telling me it's not -that- far off..."
"I will certainly take you up on that. As soon as he wakes enough to move, have him sit up for a bit and change the sheets. Conjury can make things heal almost too quickly, and we do not want him forming anything that will not flex with his movements." She gave him one last smile. "You did well, Deccan. Get some rest." Adelle scooped Dozer into her arms. "We will go without being noticed. I promise."
Deccan offers her a slightly wry smile, "I will. It... won't be the first time I've dealt with physical therapy to counteract keloid contraction." He sighs, moving aside so they can go. "Thank you again...." A glance back to the figure on the bed, "... though we've both got a long road ahead."
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The Things We Let Go CH. 2
Summary: Addison goes to stay with her friends, The Abbotts, and they make their way to the world cup to meet the Weasley gang.
Character Pairings: Fred Weasley X New Character
Word Count: 5.7K
A/N: I've been having so much fun writing this. Some dialog is borrowed from the original story.
Godric’s Hollow was a lovely little village that was made up of a humble square containing just a post office, a pub, and a church. A few muggle and magical dwellings alike surrounded the square, but there couldn’t have been too many people living there. As the Abbotts led me towards their house, we passed what appeared to be a war memorial in the center of the square. As we drew closer, it began to transform into statue of three people. A man with unkempt hair and eyeglasses, a woman with kind eyes and flowing hair, and an infant boy, perched atop the woman’s lap.
I paused to look at it, and the Abbott’s continued walking ahead. I knew this must be Harry Potter and his parents. James and Lilly potter had been killed here the night that He Who Must Not Be Named tried to kill little Harry. I’d heard the story many times before, but standing here so close to where it happened, broke my heart for the boy, who I now knew looked so much like his father, even more.
“C’mon Addie!” Charlie called over her shoulder from a little ways ahead. I tore my gaze from the family, frozen in one last eternal moment together, and hurried to catch up; pulling my trunk behind me.
We strolled a little ways more until we reached the Abbott’s house. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t exactly grand either. It sat beside a wide garden, and had an even bigger yard surrounded by tall hedges. A few chickens pecked at the ground beside the front walk. As we approached, the front door swung open and Hannah, Charlie’s younger sister, bounded out to meet us.
“Mum! Dad! I’d begun to worry you’d miss supper,” she called as she came.
Hannah was about to enter her fourth year at Hogwarts, just one year younger than Charlie and I. The three of us were sorted into Hufflepuff when we first began Hogwarts, which is how I met Charlie. There are only a handful of girls in each year per house. It was inevitable that you would become close with those in which you lived and shared your classes with. I had also found that in general, the Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors got on pretty well. Unless we were playing each other in quidditch, we usually cheered each other on. Most of the people I considered my friends were in these two houses. The Ravenclaws and the Slytherins tended to be more of our within school rivals. This was just the way things were.
Hannah and I exchanged hugs and words of welcome in front of the house before Mr. and Mrs. Abbott ushered us inside for dinner. I had never been in a home that operated primarily off the use of magic, and it was mystical.
As we entered I saw what looked like an entire staff of invisible people preparing our dinner. Knives lifted themselves off counters and were chopping vegetables on cutting boards. A large pot on the stove was stirring itself as various spices rose from their wooden cupboards and shook themselves into it. The dishes in the sink were washing themselves, a soapy sponge circling around a plate as if a hand that we couldn’t see was holding it there. Other dishes flew from cupboards and took their place on a long dining table in a room off of the kitchen. I ducked as a pile of napkins arose from a drawer and flew past my head.
I grinned to myself at the wonder of it all. Imagine being able to wave your wand and all your housework would be done. One day I would be able to prepare a meal with the flick of my wrist, or clean up a mess more quickly than it was made. Until I was seventeen however, it was strictly forbidden for me to use magic outside of school. They didn’t want untrained wizards running around drawing attention to the fact that an entire magical community existed and operated alongside the non-magical one.
“This all must be so new for you,” said Mrs. Abbott as we sat around the table. “I remember when I visited a magical family for the first time.”
“I guess I just never thought about using magic for all of these things,” I replied. “You were able to cook an entire meal without even being home.”
“It all does seem a bit strange doesn’t it? It’s been a long time, but this was all very strange to me once too. And it will only ever get more impressive.” She chuckled. “Watch this.”
She raised her wand and waved it a sweeping motion. Suddenly out of the kitchen floated several large platters with the most decadent array of food I had ever seen laid out for a family meal. There was a plate stacked full of porch chops, and a basin of soup containing an assortment of vegetables and what appeared to be lamb meat. Mounds of mashed potatoes were on another dish that was now settling on the table next to a heaping pile of sprouts. A spoon dove into a bowl of peas that bumped into a plate full of treacle tarts on its way down to the flat surface.
My mouth hung slightly open as everything in front of us became still, “Wow.”
Mr. Abbott chuckled lightly and began scooping servings of everything onto his plate.
“This all looks amazing Mrs. Abbott, thank you,” I said as I began to do the same.
“You’re very welcome my dear, but please, call me Susan,” she patted my arm.
Dinner passed quickly and fairly quietly as we all stuffed ourselves with all of the wonderful things Mrs. Abbott had prepared for us by magic. We did learn, through a rather clumsy owl that crashed through the window in the middle of supper, that Hannah’s friend Hermione Granger, was staying with the Weasley family and would be attending the World Cup with them. This left Mr. Abbott with an extra ticket to the world cup, that he tried adamantly to get Mrs. Abbott to accept, to no avail.
“No, no,” she insisted at the end of the meal, “I think I will be much more comfortable here. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
“But Sus-“ Mr. Abbott interjected.
“Ted,” she said softly, “please don’t insist that I go camping for however long this match might go on. Even if it is with magic. Really, I’ll have a much better time hearing about it from all of you when you get back.”
Mr. Abbott conceded. They sent the three of us immediately up to bed, saying that we’d need to be up well before dawn tomorrow to be on our way. Charlie, Hannah, and I climbed the stairs with full stomachs and heavy eyelids. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since I’d cried with my mother at home in the parlor, but it felt like a lifetime. That’s usually what happened when I made my way back into the magical world at the end of each summer. However, for a reason I couldn’t put my finger on, it made my heart a little bit heavier this time.
~
The next day, we had been roused from our beds in the early morning, and followed Mr. Abbott sleepily into the front yard. I had dressed in a plain muggle clothes at his instructions, and I chuckled to see him in nurses scrubs when he led us out the door. I wondered if Mrs. Abbott had tried to inform him that these were definitely not everyday muggle clothes, or if she had simply laughed to herself as I had when he’d dressed that morning.
We loaded two small tents and a few days’ worth of clothes into backpacks that now hung off of our shoulders as we took ahold of Mr. Abbott’s arms. He warned the three of us to close our eyes again, and Apparated us to the site of the cup. The second time Apparating was not much more pleasant than the first, and I wondered how this could become someone’s preferred method of transportation, especially when flying on a broom was so exhilarating.
We appeared on the edge of what seemed to be a deserted misty field in the middle of absolutely nowhere, with two sleepy-eyed wizards standing in front of us. “Good morning!” Mr. Abbott chimed to the pair. They had both, like Mr. Abbott, tried poorly to dress like muggles. One wore a tweed suit with rubber boots that came up over his thighs. The other wore a traditional Scottish kilt and a poncho.
“Oh hello Ted,” yawned the one in the kilt, “Well rested are you?”
“Went to bed nice and early last night,” replied Mr. Abbott, “Wanted the girls to be wide awake for the excitement today.”
“We’ve been here all night, about time we got some sleep, I reckon. Here, let me find your campsite,” He unrolled a long piece of parchment and consulted it. “Ah, Abbott, here we are. Just a quarter mile’s walk in that direction, it’ll be the first field you’ll see. The site manager is a muggle called Mr. Roberts.”
“Thanks, Basil,” said Mr. Abbott and he ushered us in the direction Basil had indicated before.
As we walked through the tall, dew filled grass, Mr. Abbott explained that the Ministry of Magic had arranged for people to arrive at staggering times throughout the week leading up to the cup so as to not draw too much attention. This was a muggle campground that would be housing the thousands of world cup attendees.
I clutched Charlie’s arm as we made our way blindly through the mist. I was starting to wonder if we had even been going in the right direction when a quaint stone cottage beside an iron gate began to appear out of the haze. Beyond the gate, I could just begin to make out what looked like hundreds of tents going up the hillside towards the dark wood of the trees on the other side.
Mr. Abbott led us up the path to the small cottage and waved at a man standing in the doorway.
“Hello!” He called happily. “We’re looking for er- Mr. Roberts?”
“That’d be me. S’pose you’ve got tents booked too?”
“Yes sir, it should be two. Under the name Abbott, we booked them a few days ago.”
“Aye,” said the man called Mr. Roberts, consulting his own list, “Your space is going to be up by the wood there. Next to an odd looking bunch called Weasley. D’you know them? Seems like everyone here this weekend knows each other. Odd. Never had more than a handful of pre-bookings at once, now we’ve got hundreds. All dressed strangely and acting funny. Just odd,” he seemed to have remembered we were obviously a part of whatever gathering was happening here. “You’ll be here just the one night?”
“That’s right just one,” said Mr. Abbott uneasily.
“So you’ll be paying now, then?” asked Mr. Roberts.
“Oh er- yes- certainly,” stuttered Mr. Abbott.
“Oh Mr. Abbott won’t you let me?” I interjected, knowing it would seem odd to this muggle when Mr. Abbott was unfamiliar with money that is clearly from his own country. “My father gave me mug- er- money before I left home.”
Mr. Abbott started to protest, but clearly thought better of it because he sighed and nodded. I counted out the correct bills from the envelope that I’d had in the pocket of my jeans, and handed them to Mr. Roberts.
He then handed us a map of the campsite and watched us suspiciously as we left the cottage and made our way through the gate. Littered throughout the field were tents that for the most part gave the impression of muggles camping there. Some however were obviously magical; huge grandiose tents, some with multiple stories, and even one with live peacocks strutting about the entrance. No wonder Mr. Robert’s thought we were a strange bunch.
As we neared the edge of the woods at the top of the hill, Mr. Abbott caught sight of Mr. Weasley and called out to him. “Arthur! Hello there mate!”
“Ted!” laughed Arthur, “So good to see you! Are you our neighbors for the night?”
“It seems that way! Glad it worked out too, Hannah was hoping to see Hermione and Ginny.”
“Right! Yes, Molly had told me our girls were friends at school. The kids are all off getting firewood and water to start on breakfast.” Mr. Weasley’s eyes finally settled on me, “Forgive me, Ted, this isn’t one of yours is it?”
“Oh no, she isn’t mine. This is Addison Morris; she’s in Charlotte’s year at Hogwarts,” said Mr. Abbott.
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Weasley,” I said politely and reached out to shake his hand.
“Same to you my dear! Who are your parents? Anyone I would know?” He asked.
“Oh, no sir. My parents are muggles,” I normally wouldn’t have been so confident in telling a stranger my lineage. There are some people in the wizarding community who view blood status as the most important identifier of a person. He Who Must Not Be Named operated under a philosophy that magical blood should be left pure. Muggle-borns like me were, in his eyes, an abomination. I had spent enough time around Ginny Weasley however, to know that Mr. Weasley did not think this way. He found muggles absolutely fascinating.
“Oh!” cried Mr. Weasley in excitement, “How lovely! I work in the misuse of muggle artifacts department at the ministry, you know. The muggle way of life is just so interesting to me. Please tell me, Addison, what exactly is the function of-“
“Forgive me Arthur,” Mr. Abbott interrupted, “but maybe the girls and I should work on getting settled just a bit before you jump into that.”
“Ah. Right, yes. My apologies. I do get a bit carried away,” he turned to Hannah and Charlie, “It’s lovely to see you girls as well.”
They both echoed “You too Mr. Weasley,” as we began to unpack our backpacks. After Mr. Abbott looked around and saw no sign of the muggle Mr. Roberts, he waved his wand over the two piles of poles and canvas and transformed them into two modest tents; earning himself a sharp look from Mr. Weasley. However, neither of them really looked big enough to comfortably hold two people, so I wondered how we would all be able to sleep.
My worries were quickly soothed though, for as soon as I stuck my head in the flap, I knew one of these tents could have easily slept all of us and then some. The inside looked a bit like a large one room cabin. Several oversized bunk beds lined the walls, while a table and a small kitchen sat off to one side. Across the room on the other side was a doorway to what appeared to be a washroom complete with a toilet and sink. The whole place was decorated like a cozy cottage that my grandmother could have lived in. I shouldn’t have been in awe, with how much wonder the wizarding world threw at me on a regular basis, but I was.
“We haven’t used these in ages,” said Mr. Abbott as he entered the tent behind the girls, “It’s a little dusty and dated but I suppose it’ll do.”
“It’s wonderful,” I said in amazement.
We unpacked our few belongings and settled in our bunks to wait on breakfast. Mr. Abbott had said he’d try to go move Mr. Weasley along a bit. I couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Weasley had hoped to have a regular muggle camping trip, and Mr. Abbott kept cheating by using magic.
After as few minutes we were beginning to drift back to sleep on top of the covers of our temporary beds, when new voices and footsteps approached outside.
“We’ve gotten the wood, Dad,” It was Ginny Weasley, “As long as I haven’t got any fake wands in here it should make a good fire.”
“Dear sister,” said another voice that I knew to belong to one of the Weasley Twins, Fred or George, “why would we ever do something like that?”
There was a chorus of laughter outside the tent, and I sat up on my bunk. Ginny was two years younger than me, only about to enter her third year at Hogwarts, but she was one of my closest friends. We’d met shortly after she began school, when a couple of older Slytherin boys had cornered me in an upstairs corridor, calling me Mudblood; a horrible word for muggle born people like me. A sentiment that echoed that of the terrible war that had ended barely 11 years prior. Ginny had been coming around the corner just as the word left the taller boy’s mouth. She’d shouted at them, and a rage, the likes of which I couldn’t imagine from an eleven year old girl, had emerged from her. After she was through giving them a piece of her mind, she’d taken me in her tiny little arms and let me cry. Then she had led me from the castle, down a narrow winding path, to the Hogwarts Game Keeper called Hagrid. Hagrid had sat and talked with us for hours and by the time we’d left, you’d have thought Ginny and I had been friends for years.
I half-ran out of the tent and to the small circle where Mr. Abbott, Fred, George, and Ginny were sitting watching Mr. Weasley arrange the wood they’d brought into a pile to start a fire.
“Addie!” Ginny jumped up off the large log she was sitting on and threw her arms around me.
“I’ve missed you,” I said, squeezing her hard, “How has your holiday been?”
“Oh, you know, Mum and I stuck in a house full of men for weeks on end. Was yours alright?” said Ginny.
“Just trapped in a house full of Muggles all summer. I’m sure you can imagine,” I said as I released her.
“Actually, I can’t,” she laughed. “Were Charlie and Hannah in there with you? Why don’t you go get them. As soon as Ron, Harry and Hermione get back, Dad’s going to try to cook us breakfast. Not sure how that’ll go over though.”
I stuck my head back in the tent and told the girls that Ginny was outside and Hermione would be returning soon. The two of them leapt out of bed as well and came outside to join everyone. Ginny had returned to her seat, but left space on her right for me to sit. The twins were sitting cross legged on the ground to the right of the log, and Mr. Abbott had made room for his daughters on an ornate wooden bench across from them. I suspected that he had used magic to erect this place to sit, and maybe even again to make it wide enough for three of them, something Mr. Weasley was obviously not willing to do.
I settled in next to Ginny and watched Mr. Weasley open a book of matches that he must have acquired with a scenario like this in mind. On his first few attempts, he simply let the match fall out of his excited hands rather than strike hard enough to light them. Eventually he was able to get the match to light, but as soon as it was ablaze, Mr. Weasley would squeal with delight and proceed to drop it on the ground.
“He’ll be at this for ages,” the twin closest to me, I wasn’t sure which it was, leaned in and whispered.
“I could help…” I offered.
“No, this’ll be a laugh I guarantee,” whispered the other twin, leaning around his brother. “I’m George by the way, I think I’ve seen you around Hogwarts.”
“Don’t listen to him, I’m George,” interjected the first twin. My face burned red as I realized I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to tell them apart. I’d have to be sure I was careful not to use their names and look silly. They were both tall, with the burning red hair that was the trademark of a Weasley, and large curious brown eyes. Light freckles dotted their faces. In unbuttoned, long sleeve flannel shirts with white cotton t-shirts underneath, they were sort of handsome. I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t noticed it before. I’d seen them plenty around school, they were the two trouble makers in the year above me. Argus Filch, the school caretaker, all but had their pictures up in prison style wanted posters outside his office.
“Knock it off you two,” said Ginny. “Don’t mind them Addie, that one’s Fred,” she indicated the one sitting closest to me, “and that one’s George,” shifting her arm to point at the one who’d said he was George the first time.
“Well I’m Addison Morris, you can just call me Addie though,” I said to them.
“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Fred, who I’d noted was in a deep green colored flannel while George’s was blue. “D’you want a sweet?” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a fist full of brightly colored candies.
“Fred!” Ginny reached across me and batted his hand away. “I thought Mum had you empty your pockets before we left The Burrow.”
“That woman,” Fred grinned.
“Yeah, she ought to know well enough by now that we’ve always got a trick or two up our sleeves,” said George with a wink.
“Go on Morris,” Fred challenged, “try one.”
“Take my advice,” Ginny said rolling her eyes, “Don’t eat anything if these two are offering it to you.”
The twins laughed and Fred stowed the sweets back in his pocket. Mr. Weasley continued to try to get a fire lit for ages as we all sat and watched in amusement. Every few minutes I could feel Fred’s eyes on me but I refused to turn and meet them. I was a bit uncomfortable with male attention, after my first attempt at a dating had gone so poorly. In my third year, I’d developed a crush on Cedric Diggory. He was a handsome Hufflepuff who was now about to enter his sixth at Hogwarts. He was a very sweet boy, but quickly let me know that he thought I was a bit too young for him. At the time, I was mortified. My face turned a deep shade of scarlet every time I was in the same room a Cedric, my crush long gone by this point, but the embarrassment of the public rejection was something I couldn’t shake.
Right before I got to the point where I was going to have to get up and find something to do to avoid his gaze, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked up carrying a kettle and a couple of saucepans full of water.
“You’ve been ages,” called George as they approached the circle.
“Met a few people,” said Ron, shaking out his own mop of red hair and setting the water down. “You not got that fire started yet?”
“Dad’s having fun with the matches,” chuckled Fred, and all of our heads turned back to Mr. Weasley just in time to see him light yet another match and say “Oops!” as he dropped it in surprise.
“Come here, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione rushed forward and began helping him properly construct and light the fire.
Harry had finally gotten a chance to look around the small circle and noticed there were more people than when he left. He gave me a small smile and wave before turning to sit on the ground next to Hannah and Charlie. He knows Hannah a little bit better than he knows me, but I also wondered if Ginny sometimes made him a bit uncomfortable. It was no secret that Ginny had been immediately taken with Harry the first time she’d seen him, before she even attended Hogwarts. So far, it didn’t appear that Harry shared the same feelings.
Mr. Weasley and Hermione were finally able to get the fire lit, and all the proper greetings and introductions were exchanged. In the hour or so that it took the fire to get hot enough to cook over, Mr. Weasley gave all of us a rundown on the ministry officials that we saw passing through the area. I was brilliantly absorbed, having never heard so much about the workings of the magical government, so much so that I stopped noticing the glances at me that Fred stole.
Just when Mr. Weasley and Mr. Abbott began cooking eggs and sausages over the blaze, three more people, who I assumed must be Weasleys as well, strolled out of the trees towards us. I recognized the youngest of the three, Percy, who had been Head Boy the previous year at Hogwarts. Ginny had told me in a letter over the Holidays that he’d began working at the ministry and was making everyone else miserable with his endless talk about cauldron bottom thickness or importation of faulty quills.
The other two were older. One exceptionally tall, with his red hair swept back into a ponytail and an earring dangling from his ear. The other was shorter and stockier, much like Mr. Weasley, but his freckles covered so much of his face that he almost looked like he had a tan. I assumed this must be Bill and Charlie, Ginny’s eldest brothers who’d already left home. Seeing them all here in one place did make me feel bad for her, having six older brothers was sure to be a bit much under one roof.
“Just Apparated, Dad,” called Percy as they grew closer. “Ah, excellent, lunch!”
We tore into the food that Mr. Weasley had cooked surprisingly well considering he didn’t use any magic. I was scraping the last bit of egg off my plate, when Mr. Weasley stood suddenly and waved at a man walking towards us. “Aha! The man of the moment! Ludo!”
The man called Ludo was dressed in full quidditch robes with a picture of a wasp plastered across his chest. I could imagine that once upon a time these robes had fit him well, but now they were stretched across a belly that surely hadn’t been there in his Quidditch playing days.
“Ahoy there!” yelled Ludo excitedly. “Arthur, old man, what a day, eh? Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements…. Not much for me to do!”
Percy lunged forward with his arm outstretched, obviously hoping to shake this man’s hand. He must’ve held an important position within the ministry. Mr. Weasley went around and introduced everyone in the circle to Ludo, ending with Mr. Abbott and me. However, I could tell Ludo had stopped listening as he did a slight double take when Mr. Weasley had rattled off Harry’s full name.
“Everyone,” Mr. Weasley ignored Ludo’s amazement at being face to face with The Boy Who Lived, “this is Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. It’s thanks to him that we’ve got such good tickets kids-“
Mr. Bagman grinned and made a waving motion at the Weasley kids and Harry as if to say it had been no big deal.
“Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur? Ted?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking between the two men. He shook the pockets of his robes and I could hear the jingling of wizard money. “I’ve already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland’s front three are the strongest I’ve seen in years – and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match.”
“Oh.. go on then,” conceded Mr. Weasley, I wondered if only to shut him up. “Let’s see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?”
“Just a Galleon?” Mr. Bagman looked slightly disappointed but recovered quickly, “Ted, d’you want to go in with him? Make it a bit more interesting?”
Mr. Abbott looked a bit flustered but managed to say, “No, no, I’d better not. My wife would have my neck if she knew.”
“Very well, very well.. any other takers?” Mr. Bagman looked around to the rest of us.
“They’re a bit young to be gambling-“ stammered Mr. Weasley.
“We’ll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts,” blurted Fred from the ground beside me as he and George quickly counted out their money, “that Ireland wins – but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch.”
I was shocked that the Weasley boys even had that kind of money, it wasn’t a secret that raising seven children had left the family without a lot of extra money. Ginny rolled her eyes but didn’t seem surprised.
“Boys,” Mr. Weasley cautioned, “that’s all your savings… If your mother knew-“
But Mr. Bagman would hear nothing of it. The boys finished their transaction with the man and George tucked the slip of parchment he was given carefully into his pocket. For the sake of their poor Mum I hoped that Fred and George would win their bet. I didn’t want to see my team lose, but I didn’t want the boys to lose their life savings either.
Turning back to Mr. Weasley, Mr. Bagman said cheerfully, “Couldn’t do me a brew, I suppose? I’m keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number’s making difficulties, and I can’t understand a word he’s saying. Barty’ll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.”
“Mr. Crouch?” said Percy, whose ears had perked up at this new name. “He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…”
“Anyone can speak Troll,” Fred scoffed from beside me. “All you have to do is point and grunt.”
Before I could help myself, a loud giggle escaped my lips. I quickly clamped my hands over my mouth and felt blood rushing to my face. Percy threw a nasty look to Fred and me, but turned to stoke the fire angrily to bring the kettle to a boil. Fred grinned at me and I could have sworn I saw him wink before I turned away in embarrassment.
A few moments later, as if he’d heard us talking about him, the man called Barty Crouch, whom Ginny had told me was Percy’s boss at the Ministry, had Apparated between the Weasley’s tents. He was an older man, who was tidy from head to toe. From the part of his hair, to his crisp suit and tie, all the way down to his polished black dress shoes. He could have passed for a muggle working at my father’s firm. Quite the opposite of Mr. Bagman.
He began trying to gather Mr. Bagman for an urgent ministry matter, but was unable to complete his request before Percy had finished handing out cups of tea and turned to offer one to him.
“Mr. Crouch!” squeaked Percy, bending into an awkward bow. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Oh,” replied Mr. Crouch, looking slightly surprised to see him here. “Yes – thank you, Weatherby.”
Fred and George choked on their own tea, Ginny nearly fell off her log, I spit my tea back into my cup, and Ron and Harry didn’t even attempt to hide their snickers. Percy sent another nasty glance, but this time extending it around the entire circle. A little pink in the ears, he turned and busied himself with the tea kettle.
“I expect you’ll both be glad when this is all over?” Mr. Abbott asked, gesturing to the chaos that surrounded our small circle. Most of the wizards in attendance clearly were not as serious about blending in as Mr. Weasley and Mr. Crouch. Many of the surrounding families were struggling to keep their children in line, if not blatantly using magic themselves.
Mr. Bagman however looked surprised. “Glad?! Don’t know when I’ve had more fun… Still, it’s not as though we haven’t got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?”
Mr. Crouch cocked an eyebrow, “We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details—”
“Oh details!” cried Mr. Bagman, waving Mr. Crouch away. “They’ve signed haven’t they? They’ve agreed, haven’t they? I bet you anything these kids’ll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it’s happening at Hogwarts—”
I had only been half paying attention to what I assumed to be small talk about the ministry until Mr. Bagman said Hogwarts. What was happening at school?
Mr. Crouch cut Mr. Bagman off and insisted that they must go and attend to the business that had brought the both of them to our campsite. They excused themselves, but not before Barty had the chance to call Percy “Weatherby” once more while thanking him for the tea.
“What’s happening at Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley? Dad?” asked Hannah, as soon as the pair had left.
“Yeah, what were they going on about?” called Ron from the ground near her.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” smiled Mr. Weasley.
“It’s classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it,” interjected Percy smugly. “Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it.”
“Oh shut up, Weatherby,” I muttered. Fred laughed from beside me and poked me in the ribs. “Good one, Morris,” he said softly enough that only I could hear.
My stomach twisted into knots. Not the unpleasant kind that come the morning of a big exam or before your parents lecture you about the marks on your report card, but the kind you get before a big quidditch match or before the trip you’ve been looking forward to for half a year. The hopeless romantics of the world might have even called them butterflies.
I tried to shake the feeling off, I was there to watch my favorite team play my favorite sport. I wasn’t here to develop another silly crush on someone older than me, something that was sure to end in my heartache. But sitting there, stealing glances at Fred from the corner of my eye and feeling him do the same, I feared it was already too late.
#harry potter fanfiction#fred weasley fic#fred weasley#harry potter#fanfic#fred#hp fanfic#hp#harry potter and the goblet of fire#goblet of fire#fuck jkr tho
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For the Princess (Final Rose)
“Shall I purge these heretics, dear sister?” Sigrid drawled.
Eira twitched. The mental changes that came from her sister’s use of Saviour could be disturbing at times. She knew all about the extremely ruthless outlook her sister’s Semblance possessed, but Saviour had become increasingly good at hiding its murderous impulses behind a veneer of civility.
“And by purge you mean…?”
Sigrid’s smile was as sharp as a razor. “Why, sister, you are the princess. They have defied your simple orders and sought to subvert your authority. The only fitting punishment is death.” She lifted her sword with careless ease. “How many pieces each do you think? I think five would be best. After all, there are four limbs, and we can leave the heads attached to the bodies.”
The would-be rebels looked like they would throw up in terror. Two of them actually did.
“Sigrid…”
The younger woman turned her attention back to the people in front of them. “You are the crown princess. In principle, your authority is second only to that of our beloved parents. In theory, Arendelle is an absolute monarchy. Your word is law to these people, or it should be.”
“You can’t just execute everyone who defies me.”
“And why not?” Sigrid raised her blade to kiss the cheek of the closest rebel. The Faunus woman went completely still. Like everyone there, she knew the weapon was sharp enough to cut reality itself. “You are a fully qualified huntress who was born and raised in Arendelle. When you give orders regarding the deployment of forces to combat the Grimm, they should be obeyed. To question your orders is one thing - a suitably intelligent subordinate can offer useful commentary. But to defy them outright without informing you until after the fact? Why, if I had not noticed the discrepancies, we would have lost at least three villages to the latest attack.”
Eira bit her lip. Her sister was, of course, correct. Despite Saviour’s desire to simply exterminate the problems it encountered, its logic was sound. The only real issue was the nature of the punishments it wished to dole out.
“We will take them into custody,” Eira said. “As the law dictates, they will be tried in a military court for insubordination, dereliction of duty, and treason.”
“The law also provides for battlefield executions when necessary,” Sigrid pointed out, blade skimming the Faunus’s throat. “We could start with this one. She is the commanding officer of this little rebellion.” She smiled thinly. “If you’re worried about the mess, I can make it quick and clean.” The air around her hummed. “A little tweak, and I can erase her from existence. It’ll be like she was never here.”
“Sigrid.” Eira’s voice cracked out like a whip. Her sister usually had better control over her Semblance, but the potential harm these rebels could have caused meant that Sigrid and Saviour were both eager to punish those responsible. “I gave an order. They will be taken into custody.”
Sigrid turned to her, and Eira met her gaze. The Semblance stared out at her through Sigrid’s eyes, a combination of eerie, inhuman calm and unbridled, inhuman rage. She inclined her head gracefully. “As my sister commands.” Her lips curled. “You’re not afraid to meet my gaze?”
“Should I be?” Eira asked. She wasn’t stupid. She had absolute confidence in her sister, but if Sigrid ever turned on her, she was dead. Saviour was simply too powerful for her to beat.
“Of course not.” Sigrid put one arm around her. “You are my dear sister. You need but say the word, and I would gladly slaughter all of your enemies or drag them before you in chains. You need never fear my sword.”
“That is… not entirely reassuring.”
Sigrid’s eyes gleamed as she turned her attention back to the rebels. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
X X X
Sigrid closed her eyes and let Saviour’s power slip away. She was normally a much gentler and calmer person, but the thought of how many lives could have been lost because of the rebels’ insubordination was enough to make her jaw clench. It would have been so easy to defy her sister’s order and simply execute the rebels on the spot. Yet she had obeyed not only because it was Eira who’d given the order but also because she’d known she would regret it later.
Still, her anger only lingered until they were once more in sight of the palace. Home. It was a welcome sight after a bad night like this, Arla had most likely stayed up to wait for her. Her lips curved up into a smile at the thought of the other woman. It had taken a while for the shepherdess to bring all of her flock over, but the sheep had adjusted well to Arendelle’s cold climate. After all, they were Yun sheep, and the Yun mountains could be incredibly cold at times.
There were some who questioned her choice of spouse, but Sigrid had only needed to let the leash of Saviour loosen just a little to make them see the error of their ways. Her Semblance approved of her choice although she had been forced to create a new directive forbidding the use of an army of Semblance-enhanced super sheep against her enemies. Given the effects Arla’s Semblance had, her flock was basically equivalent to an entire division of seasoned infantry, possibly more once she took the stronger sheep into account.
When she arrived back in their chambers, she was only mildly surprised to see Thunder Horn there. The Ancient Sheep was a mighty warrior in his own right, easily the equal to entire teams of skilled huntsmen and huntresses. It put her mind at ease to know that he was rarely far from Arla’s side. The flock was lucky enough to have a trio of Elder Sheep, as well, and they could hold any foe off long enough for Thunder Horn to return if he was needed.
The great ram nudged her and then inclined his head at Arla who was sprawled over the couch in an ungainly heap.
“Yes. She fell asleep again waiting for me.” Sigrid patted the ram on the head. “Thank you for looking after her. I can take it from here.”
The ram nodded and then leapt out the window to go rejoin the flock. He had known Arla from the day she’d been born, and Sigrid was one of the few people he trusted enough to hand her safety to. Even the royal guard had been forced to earn his trust, and more than one of them had ended up in the hospital after failing to meet his rigorous standards. It wasn’t a surprise at all that the ram and Fury got along wonderfully. Her uncle’s chocobo had most certainly approved of his methods.
“Hey…” Arla opened her eyes and smiled at her sleepily. “You’re back.” She paused. “Not good, huh?”
“It could have gone better,” Sigrid replied before she bent down to lift Arla into her arms. “I’ll carry you back to bed. You always complain about your back when you fall asleep on the couch.”
“Well, the couch might look nice, but it’s not as comfy as I’d like.” She huffed adorably. “We need to break it in more.”
“And by break it in?”
“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter,” Arla grumbled. “Not that I would mind, though. But you know what I mean.”
“How is the flock?”
“They’ve settled in nicely,” Arla replied. “And we’ve got some more lambs on the way too. I think they’ll really do well here. The conditions are just right for them. Compared to the Yun Mountains, there aren’t as many crazy things here that want to eat sheep.”
“My mother did a wonderful job of reining in most of the local wildlife,” Sigrid said. “Most of the dangerous animals keep well clear of people and settlements because whenever they did cause trouble, she turned up, and they, well, died.”
“Saviour does that.” Arla sniffed Sigrid. One of Arla’s grandparents was a Faunus, but the only things she’d inherited from the old wolf Faunus was a slightly enhanced sense of smell and better than normal night vision. Still, the irony of someone who was part wolf Faunus being a shepherdess was not lost on either of them. “Did you have a bath before you came back? You don’t smell like a battlefield at all.”
“Ah.” Sigrid chuckled. “It was necessary to use Saviour immediately to prevent unnecessary casualties.”
“And Saviour prevents you from smelling?”
“Yes. Its defence is all but absolute. Blood, muck, grime, none of those can interact with someone using Saviour. By the time I turned it off, I was already on the transport back with Eira.”
“You know that seems horrible unfair. The last time I was on a battlefield, I ended up smelling awful.”
“I would prefer it if you weren’t on a battlefield without me,” Sigrid replied.
That had happened several months ago, before Arla had moved to Arendelle. A large host of Grimm had advanced on Oerba, and the shepherdess had directed her flock to aid the warriors of her clan in repulsing the threat. Since her Semblance was basically an area-of-effect ability boost, her presence had turned what should have been a close battle into a rout. However, that hadn’t stopped the Grimm from noticing the threat and trying to eliminate her. Thankfully, a cadre of Yun warriors, along with her most trusted sheep had been able to repel any assassination attempts.
The next time Arla took to the battlefield, Sigrid would be with her and no threat would get anywhere near her.
“I’m not totally hopeless, you know,” Arla replied. “I can take care of myself even if I’m not a walking apocalypse like you or your sister… or your parents… or your cousins… or well… basically everyone in your family.”
“I know.” Sigrid’s lips twitched. Arla was a skilled fighter. Being a shepherdess in the Yun Mountains meant knowing how to defend herself and her flock. She would have been solidly in the A Tier of huntresses if she ever got ranked, but Sigrid, her older sister, and both her parents were EX Tier huntresses, and she was confident her younger sibling would achieve an outstanding rating in time as well. “We are a bit odd, I suppose.”
“Meh.” Arla yawned. “My best friend is an Ancient Sheep, and my Semblance lets me turn my flock of sheep into an army. I’d say I’m pretty odd to.”
“Then you’ll fit right in.” Sigrid’s mind drifted slightly. She had proposed and Arla had accepted, but they had yet to set an exact date with the recent increase in Grimm activity. Perhaps she should let Saviour out a bit more, so they could be done with the Grimm and get married sometime in midwinter as was usually the custom for Arendelle’s royalty. Then again, Arla might prefer a different time, and Sigrid wasn’t particularly attached to a midwinter wedding. “Arla…”
She trailed off and smiled. While she’d been thinking Arla had fallen back asleep.
X X X
Author’s Notes
Some more Sigrid, but older this time. She is gentler than both Averia and Lightning, which has led to her version of Saviour being somewhat more bloodthirsty than theirs (i.e., it defaults to extermination as a method of dealing with problems more than theirs do). I can only imagine how happy Saviour would be to end up in WH40K. So much evil to slay. So much corruption to extirpate.
Arla is an easy going person too. One of the things she does to win Lightning’s approval is to get along really well with the flock of sheep Lightning once saved. Indeed, they eventually get brought over and join her flock. To Diana’s aggravation, the sheep that is her mortal enemy actually quite likes Arla. Sigrid’s choice of spouse helps set a trend that persists throughout history. Despite being related to the royal family, bearers of Saviour marry for love. Choosing a suitable spouse is vital for their mental health, and an insane or otherwise mentally compromised bearer of Saviour would be devastating.
And, yes, Sigrid and Arla do have a combination attack. It involves armouring and arming the sheep with Saviour-made armours and weapons. It looks absolutely ridiculous, but it is incredibly effective. Also, Lightning will never admit it, but Saviour-enhanced sheep look adorable right up until they start killing everything.
If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.
You can find my original fiction on Amazon here.
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The Best Way To Pick The Finest E-Scooters
An electric scooter can be a small car that resembles a bicycle that is powered with electrical power. There isn't any usage of fuel or oil to get the electric scooter to work. Individuals of all ages could use scooters. We may also declare that owning an electric scooter is ordinary nowadays, and it might become rather common as running an automobile while in the next few decades.
However, electrical scooters have been considered an exemplary method of transportation now a day. These vehicles may certainly uplift the hassles and stress on strolling. However, the folks are also which makes it a perfect arrangement for people who are on the move but do not own a car together with them. Moreover, the electrical scooter is small in size, also you can easily navigate on crowded roads. Click here: thescooterguide.com/hover-1-pioneer-electric-scooter-review for more information.
However, the challenging thing concerning the best electric scooters is there are numerous shapes, sizes, shapes, and colors. It is essential to find knowhow prior to buying in order to steer clear of any uncomfortable incident. Let's check out what you should search for while obtaining a electrical scooter.
What things to look for while choosing an electric scooter?
It would be needed for you to know the working system of an electric scooter before buying. Either the scooter is to get standing upward, or riding, the significant parts and works just like brakes and speed have been all governed with knobs and shifts over the handle. But, all these attributes create the scooter more effortless to manage and journey. Here's the outline of a few things when buying the most effective electric scooters.
Make and Type
Whenever you're on the lookout to find the finest and trusted electric scooter, then it's imperative to decide the model of scooter that you need. A number of models allow you to get a top-rated elected scooter for the two children and grownups. What do you have to understand concerning the hover 1 pioneer electric scooter reviews, apart from just simply how cheap it actually is? Ah yes, the fashion conscious element.
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Make sure that you are mindful of burden limits to the electric scooter which you're likely to buy. It's all-important to understand that bigger scooters need longer leaning in turns, and it appears hard to carry turns corners using these electric scooters. More over, they have increased braking space, which means it's going to last longer for one personally to block the automobile.
Furthermore, it is likewise exciting to know that the bigger scooters are less inspired by a few outside facets like gusty winds whenever you're crossing a bridge.
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You are able to also examine the speed of electrical scooters with eachother. Nevertheless, the scooters taken for fun and recreation with maximum rates of 4 to 10 miles could be unsatisfactory. It's necessary to know that there are two important sorts of specified rates. These are the best speed and cozy cruising rate. Some of these electric scooters promise to have a blister 20mph top speed. Anybody who's tried one at this speed can find that it is not sensible to traveling virtually any distance.
Battery and Selection
The score of a electric scooter's battery is usually deceptive. Several of the producers estimate the battery dimensions in Ah or Amphours, however, the issue is that this information is more pointless. However, it would be honest in the event the battery units are recorded in watthours if scooters. Inside this manner, it may be done with satisfactory paying for.
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When it has to do with purchasing the greatest electric scooters, make sure to inspect every one of the safety apparatus and features extensively. It's preferable to be safe than sorry rather than underestimate the hazards caused by electrical scooter risks. Furthermore, following a precise instructions and safety measures are crucial towards the exciting.
Miles a Charge
It's necessary to ensure how much funds a scooter has and how much time is required for that battery to charge.
Price
To greater buying, then you can compare the cost of this quality of the scooter. Costs of electrical scooters change into a huge degree. Generally, the rates vary due to colors, designs, and processes that are available to produce a favorable experience with distinct kinds of scooters.
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PepperStuckony Hallmark Challenge snippet
Written for the @heamarvel Hallmark Challenge --- a challenge that even I, as a mod, said I wouldn’t be participating in, I’ll have you know. I am definitely not a fan of Hallmark movies, preferring to make fun of them as my mom tries to legitimately watch them (we... compromise).
BUT, along came @tehroserose with her love for this Quad, and she won me over, enticing me gently to turn to the dark side because they have poly, not just cookies.
I may or may not continue.... oh who am I kidding. Rose, you’re awesome, and you’ll likely end up with some train car s/mut before Dec 24 (when this Challenge finishes). That good enough for you? ;) ily
I did Prompt 9: An anxious bride-to-be (Character A, “bride” is non-gender assigned) throws in with broken-hearted and cynical Character B and a happily married couple for an emergency ride to Point X from Point Z.
Check out my UST-driven PepperStuckony snippet below and let me know what you think! <3
“Let’s play a game,” she begged—her, Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, reduced to begging.
There was only so much Pepper could handle, and it seemed like she’d reached her limit. That limit seemed to contain many different things:
One of which was Tony, the love of her life, engaged—arranged via Howard of all people; who even arranged marriages anymore??—to another man he didn’t even like, let alone love, sitting next to and pressed against her from knee to hip to shoulder. She was uncomfortably aware of every single part of him.
Another thing helping her reach her limit was that said love of her life had somehow lost his wallet and the small bag containing her phone and StarkPad. Not only was she bored practically to tears, but they needed to be in Ottawa yesterday if they were to make the meeting with the Prime Minister’s cabinet on time, and the only method of transportation available to them in Halifax had been the VIA Rail train—every last plane was cancelled or diverted due to the blizzard, including their Learjet, every last car rented, and Tony and Pepper both refused to get on a bus of all things.
Which left… the train.
Oh, it wasn’t so bad, if you got past the fact that the trip took on average twenty eight hours. Twenty. Eight. Hours. Tony had reminded her of that fact one too many times.
She was well aware, Tony.
Especially considering all she had to amuse herself was a collection of battered, dog-eared, creased Hallmark and Harlequin novels one of their companions had loaned her with a blush.
Ah, yes, their companions. The third of many reasons Pepper had reached her limit.
There was only so much that Pepper could handle when forced to listen to two disgustingly sweet (loving) men, who were so obviously in love with each other, prattle on and on about their Christmas plans. How it was going to be so perfect, so beautiful, so spirited, so loving, so perfect perfect perfect, and even about the history of their small town’s Christmas traditions and especially those of their large, loving, amazing, extended family.
Four times now Pepper had been reminded of everything she desired most in the world.
Steve Rogers had to be on the fifth go of the same exact topics, with that same sappy (stunning) and dopey (adorable) look on his face, as his husband, James call-me-”Bucky” Barnes went through their photo album, and shared the memories with not only his husband, but also Pepper and Tony.
But worst of all—the absolute worst thing—was the thing that pushed her over the edge: Tony looked happy. He looked wistful, as if he wanted what they had, and Pepper… Pepper wanted it too.
But she couldn’t have it. Tony was not meant for her, as much as she might wish it.
As much as she did wish it.
Thus the game.
“Truth or Dare,” Tony said immediately, his devilish grin, his roguish charm, more suited for Halloween than two days before Christmas, spelling immediate doom for Pepper—and Steve and Bucky, if she knew her Tony.
She did.
“Truth,” Steve and Bucky answered simultaneously, leaning back and relaxing into a comfortable-looking snuggle with each other on the opposite bench seat.
“Hmm,” Tony mused, his eyes as wide and observant as they’d been for the last seven hours of their trip.
Damn it, Pepper groaned internally. Tony was awesome when he got like this—both in the very bad and the very good sense of the word.
“You both find my Pepper here stunning, don’t you?” he asked, voice even and light, curious, though he sounded sure of himself, as if he already knew the answer and was simply waiting to see if they would lie to him.
Oh fuck me, Pepper wanted to say aloud, and she never swore out loud, never; instead opting to internally up the dial on her freak-out, the only outward sign of her reaction a probably rather comical widening of her eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat as the two men opposite them sent suddenly dark, appreciative glances her way.
Nope. Her control noped right out.
#pepperstuckony#stucky#pepperony#pepperstony#winteriron#stony#other ship names i don't actually know?#heamarvel#hallmark challenge#marvel event#my writing#snippet#prompt 9
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Okay, here it is. I started writing this on the 1st or 2nd but a bunch of stuff happened that delayed me finishing. Basically, I saw all the #2019 kingdom stuff on @beerecordings‘ blog and it sounded like people had fun that night. I was unfortunately unable to really join in because it was after 11pm for me when it got going. However, I did send a picture of my cockapoo Honey as a sort of ‘peace offering from the future’. And when I woke the next morning to discover the Queen was dead and Tardus was about to vanish, So I realised I had to race to pick her up before I lost her for the rest of 2020. And then this fic somehow came out of that. Look, idk, don’t ask me. All I know is that writing in my dog’s POV is so funny to do and maybe I should write more stuff from odd Points of View this year.
Anyway, here’s Honey doing her own thing while visiting royalty.
Honey hated this. This was far too much. The threatening noise, the bursts of colour she could sense in the sky, just everything about tonight. Holly talking nonsense at her wasn't really helping the situation either, if she was going to be honest. She would admit she had been warned but now was not the time to debate whether she should have listened.
"Are you going to behave yourself? You're going to Tardus for uh, diplomatic reasons." Another intrusive noise boomed. She gristles in retaliation. The movement of Holly's hand on her back increases. "Shh, shh. It's okay, baby. Just some fireworks. There shouldn't be any of them in Tardus."
"Is she ready to go?" An unfamiliar human asks upon appearing in her peripheral.
"Just a second. Honey. Hey, look at me for a minute." The clicking of a tongue captures her attention. "Hi. Listen, you need to be on your best behaviour. You'll be a guest there, after all. I'm guessing there's gonna be a bunch of people walking around the castle so don't get underneath anyone's feet. And no jumping on beds, sofas or whatever. You can get away with it here because we give you permission. But, over there, you won't have explicit permission. So don't go jumping onto anything you're not supposed to. Comprende?" Another explosion. Strokes are accompanied by a sigh. "I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll come for you when it's morning there, okay?"
She doesn't recognise the smell of the person who takes her from Holly. Nor are the scents in Tardus particularly familiar once they arrive. The journey across the world had been stressful. Like pretty much everything in the past several hours. The eyes of a human dressed in extravagant regalia light up at the sight of her. This must be Bee, the queen Holly had spoken of.
"A gift from Holly of Medwich, ma'am. To help with the celebrations."
"Oh, hello there." Hands interrupt Honey's inspection. Okay, she enjoyed strokes and scratches as much as the next dog but there was a process to this. Oh wait, no, this human has got their hands underneath her ears, making them flop slightly from the motion of scratching the back of her head. Honey takes this opportunity gets a good whiff. Alright, this Bee smelled trustworthy. She leans in when a hand cups her face. Now for the true test of faith. She is in the perfect position to flop.
"Oh! Careful there. What would Holly think if you hit your head on the floor?" The queen giggles. Probably roll her eyes then give her a cuddle, Honey thinks. Her belly is seconds away from being rubbed when a servant has the audacity to interrupt.
"Your majesty, there are urgent matters that require your attention concerning tonight."
"Well, you heard him. I'll be back later, okay? This is a big place so if you wander off, it would be easy to get lost. Be careful. I know Holly wouldn't want you get hurt or go missing. Actually, can we get someone to keep an eye on her while I'm gone?"
"Of course, ma'am." The messenger nods and departs.
Unsupervised, Honey immediately sets off to explore the various surrounding halls. She enters a chamber. There, situated on a table, partially hanging off the edge, were papers. She pays them no notice as her tail absentmindedly thumps against the wood. It is only as the paper falls that she becomes attentive to them. They suffer the fate of being ripped without a moment's hesitation. Shreds of varying sizes are the end result. Bee's ever trustworthy advisor discovered the scene.
"What did you do?! Those were my-" The person scrabbles at the pieces of parchment. "Wait, these were the... important notes I thought I hid before heading out." Their body jerks, slightly and silently, in a way she thinks is related to happiness in humans. Yes, that beahviour was a good one. She had done something positive. Fingers find themselves gently pressing behind her ear. Yeah, keep doing that but maybe go up just a fraction. "I suppose I should thank you. Won't tell if you don't." A wink is directed at her.
Despite apparently doing something right by shredding paper, Honey is ushered away from the area. Oh well, there was always something else to check out, something to sniff or somewhere to laze about. And just her luck that her senses detected a hub of activity and delicious scents. A kitchen? Brilliant!
A young cook spots her. "I heard about you. You're our little guest, aren't you? I don't blame you for coming straight to this part of the palace." He gives a smile reminiscent of when Holly stole one of her balls before hurling it across the living room. "You like chicken?" She knows how this goes. She is usually made to sit before being granted food. "Aren't you polite. Here you go."
Something else emitted an amazing scent. So sweet. Undoubtedly tasty. If only she could have a bite. Honey follows the food all the way back to the throne room. Ah, she understands. Well, Bee was nice to her before so surely she wouldn't be heartless enough to ignore her sad eyes tactic. She lays her head on the queen's lap. Bee laughs, obscuring her face. Their eyes meet a moment later. There is a great deal of hesitation. Oh, forget her. Mummy was usually the only one who shared her dinner and sandwiches anyway. But she'll tell Holly about this injustice, don't think she won't. Wait, never mind. Tardus' sovereign is kind enough bestow her a morsel. Sugar! She is sure she's had something like this before. Sweet bun, was that what humans called it? She is given a few more pieces before the bun is gone.
It doesn't matter. Honey had a new focus now. A servant arrives with chocolate pancakes. She administered her persuasive ways again but it proves unsuccessful this time. Bee uses the old excuse of 'chocolate is poisonous to dogs'. Please, at least think of something more creative. She's sick of that poison line. 'Dangerous' was another one of the same vein. Besides, that excuse was probably human propaganda so they could hoard all the chocolate for themselves. Honestly, she's been eating chocolate as a treat for years and has experienced no health problems as a result. So there. Stop lying about chocolate because it's not nice. Also please let her have some of those pancakes.
There is speak of a pond creature who is leaving soon. The queen orders more chocolate pancakes to be delivered to the creature's aquatic dwelling. A pond sounded great. The beaches back home sucked during winter, always forbidding dogs like her to have fun and splash around. Maybe she could earn permission to swim for a while. Once more, Honey leaves Bee to her royal duties.
The sky is dark now, an expanse of stars blanketing it. The night causes her further problems with navigating a landscape which was already unfamiliar. She swears she returns to a path she was travelling minutes earlier. No matter how long she searches for this elusive pond, her efforts bear no fruit. She should probably return inside. The explosions she thought she'd be escaping by coming here are sounding again. Yeah, she definitely needs to find someone. She'd prefer Mummy or Holly but they're far away.
Okay. Perhaps if she retraced her steps...
There is chaos as she nears her destination. It is too much noise and panicked hurry for her. She thinks she hears several shrieks regarding Bee's demise. Dodging people's feet is tricky with their volume in consideration. They weren't paying attention to her. Something big had obviously gone down. She lets the crowds lead her to the square where they seemed to be gathering.
"Anyone wanting to leave Tardus for Medwich, over here!" Medwich? And what she swears sounds like Holly's voice? Yes! She wants to leave Tardus for Medwich! Please. The second Holly spots her, she flings herself off the back of the beast on which she had been perched.
"Honey! Oh my god. It's okay. Hey, it's going to be alright. I'm here. I'm here." Holly comforts with both her words and actions. "What happened?"
"The Queen's been assassinated." Someone answers.
Holly goes quiet for a second. "I'd heard rumours but I was hoping they weren't true. Is it really true this place will return to the earth when the last timezone reaches their midnight?"
There is a murmur of general agreement. A second person speaks. "There's about an hour or two left before Tardus falls for another year."
"So come to Medwich. It was early morning when I left so it will probably be about 11 by the time we return." Her owner pats the cherry coloured dragon. "This guy's pretty fast."
A third voice. "There's no point. We'll all be home before this kingdom is truly lost."
"Are you sure?" Again, a consensus of assurance. "Well, in that case... Come on, Honey, let's go home."
Holly rambles as they mount the dragon. "What do you think of my ride? I know what you're thinking. 'What are you doing with something that can fly when you hate heights?' But don't you think a dragon's a cooler mode of transport than a unicorn or lion? Plus, the Welsh have the best method of mythical transportation so why wouldn't I call in a favour to pick you up in style? Although, I had hoped it would be in a few hours. Sorry, I had no idea this place was a limited time deal. Whatever. Mum probably needs my help with today's belated Christmas dinner. I'll give you an extra pig in blanket as compensation. How's that sound?"
"Make it two."
"Yeah, I missed you too."
Her owner tightens her hold as the dragon is signalled to depart. With a cry of "Happy New Year!" during launch, Tardus gradually fades into the horizon, leaving it doomed to be crumbling by the time they set foot in Medwich.
#my writing#honey the dog#beerecordings#2019 kingdom#also I should clarify that when I say Honey eats chocolate I mean doggy chocolate#you know... the stuff that is specifically designed not to have the ingredients that can hurt animals#and no I was not momentarily possessed by my gen z nature and caught myself in the middle of writing 'yeeting' instead of 'hurling' a ball#'last second editing' was meant to be one last skim to check for spelling/grammar mistakes#not adding roughly 300 more words which caused me to have to restart with the whole 'skim for errors' process#oh well it's done now#I should show this to Honey when I next see her in April
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OOTW: The Explanation Snippet
This will one day be a chapter. When I have a better handle on Eri and the majority of the plot knocking on my head has been resolved. For now it’s kind of like the other snippet that’s Tumblr-only. I’m offering it up to the readers as a vague explanation for how KHR met BNHA.
It’s not often Aizawa takes Eri out of the UA grounds, and she’s not sure if she should be excited or terrified. So she has Aizawa’s hand in a vice grip and a chunk of his scarf wedged in the other, while her eyes dart around, trying to soak in every new thing she sees.
“It’s not far now” the man promises, and Eri nods, even though she doesn’t know exactly where it is they’re going. It’s clearly not where she’d lived before she’d been with Aizawa though, so it’s probably a nice place.
A few minutes later, Aizawa stops outside a small building with bright windows and knocks on the door. The man who unlocks the door is the same height as Aizawa and dressed all in white.
“Aizawa” he greets. “Yamada sent me your message, but it wasn’t very specific. How can I help?”
“Something Hizashi once said has come back to haunt me” Aizawa admits, as Yamamoto opens the door and allows the two entry. “I was looking for some advice.”
Yamamoto glances down at Eri, who have shuffles behind Aizawa’s leg.
“Ah, you must be Eri” he says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Eri braves stepping out just a smidgen.
“Really?”
“This is Yamamoto” Aizawa tells her, and Eri, gives a small ‘oh’ in understand.
She knows Yamamoto. Yamada talks about him, and Aizawa once brought sushi he made home.
“Hi Mr. Yamamoto” she offers, and the chef smiles at Eri.
“Hello Eri” He replies. “You know, my youngest, Fuuta, is probably only a few years older than you. He’s upstairs if you want to say hello?”
Eri glances up at Aizawa, who smiles and nods in permission, and the girl cautiously steps past the kitchen and heads for the stairs. She vaguely hears Yamamoto asking Aizawa something about how something called ‘fostering’ and how it’s treating him, before it tapers off from distance.
The upper part of the building looks deceptively large, with 2 doors on each side and another small staircase at the end. It’s easy to tell where Eri is supposed to go, because only one door is open, and she can hear someone talking.
Still, she inches the door open in caution. She doesn’t want to upset whoever is inside.
“Um, hello?”
The room is really small, barely wide enough to shove the bed in to one end while a desk and chest of drawers line the sides. At the desk, there’s a young boy, engrossed in a giant book, who jerks up at her voice.
“Oh, hello?” he says. “Who are you?”
Eri bites her lip.
“E-Eri” she stutters out. “Yamamoto said I could come up?”
The boy grins, and her shoulders drop in relief.
“Oh, you stay with Aizawa right? He mentioned he had a little girl staying with him.”
He slips off the chair and sits on the floor, patting the ground next to him, and Eri happily sits down.
“Do you like staying with him?” he asks, and Eri nods.
“Oh yes. Aizawa is very nice” she insists. He brushes my hair and he buys me nice clothes and he really likes cats.”
It’s true. She has five stuffed cat toys on her bed right now. The secret that she actually prefers dogs is one she’ll never, ever tell, because it might make Aizawa sad and make him give her away and-
“Tsuna likes cats too” Fuuta tells her. “He and Gokudera used to have some. Yamamoto prefers dogs though.”
“What about you?” Eri asks, and Fuuta shrugs.
“Well, dogs are rated number 1 on most popular animals for pets” he says. “But honestly?”
His eyes dart around the room in mock suspicion, and leans in.
“I like fish” he admits. “When I’m older, I’ll have a great big aquarium and have dozens of tropical fish. It’ll be it’s own little universe.”
“That sounds amazing” Eri gasps. She’s never seen an aquarium, but it sounds amazing.
“Really?” Fuuta asks. “Most people think fish are boring.”
Eri immediately shakes her head. “No, no, no.”
“So...what do you like to do?” Fuuta asks, and Eri frowns.
“Um...I like being with Aizawa, and Mirio, and Izuku” she starts. “I like...”
Not being hurt any more. That was her favourite thing. But that’s probably not the right answer.
“I like stories” she decides upon. “Aizawa reads me stories at bedtime, and they’re really fun.”
They really were. Aizawa tells her all about new worlds, and princesses trapped in towers or by curses until their heroes come to save them. About magical schools and talking animals and all the different endings where the villains don’t ever win. It’s possibly her favourite part of the day.
Fuuta’s eyes immediately light up.
“I could tell you one” he says. “There’s a story I’ve been really wanting to tell people, and you can tell me if it’s any good?”
Eri matches his grin as Fuuta stands to grab one of the books on the desk.
“I started writing it down. Tsuna says I can tell people so long as I’m careful. It’s a little rough, but-”
“I don’t mind” Eri promises. “How does it start?”
Fuuta smiles.
“So, once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a boy who lived in a village with his mother. The boy was no good at anything, but he didn’t mind, even when people called him dame.”
“What was his quirk?” Eri asks, and Fuuta blinks in surprise before laughing.
“Oh, um. He didn’t have one. But one day, a strange man came to his door, and told his mother he was a tutor sent by his father to help the boy become a successful leader. However, in secret, he told the boy he was actually a legendary warrior sent from a faraway kingdom, to groom the boy as the next king.”
“Wow!” Eri gasps.
“He told the boy that his ancestor had once been king, but had left the kingdom to his cousin when he fled. But now, all the other princes were dead, and the boy was the next rightful heir. The boy refused.”
Eri’s face fell.
“What? But why?”
Fuuta smiled.
“Because it wasn’t just any old kingdom he was to rule, but a very powerful one. The villain kingdom.”
“There’s a kingdom of villains?” Eri asks, face pale, and Fuuta laughs.
“Don’t worry. Only in the story” he insisted. “The warrior told him he had no choice, and then unsealed the boy’s quirk.”
“Unsealed?” Eri repeats.
“It turns out that the villain kings all had this very powerful quirk, and since the boy was supposed to stay away from the kingdom, it was locked away when he was very young. But now they needed to train him in it very quickly.
And so the legendary warrior started to train him, sometimes with threats or blackmail, or even trickery. Along the way, the boy started to gather knights of his own. Friends with powerful, uh, quirks, that could help him rule.
They fought many battles, and fought many enemies. One in particular was a lord from a neighbouring kingdom, who had a quirk that let him talk and interact with every version of himself in every dimension. Using this ability, he was able to take over the entire world ten years into the future.”
Eri gasps.
“The boy and his friends were transported to this time in order to beat him, and in doing so, saved the timeline and helped the lord abandon his quest, becoming a friend to the boy himself.”
“Oh yay!” Eri says. “So the bad lord became a good lord.”
“Well, as good as a villain lord could be” Fuuta admits.
“Then the legendary warrior needed help. You see, he and seven other legendary warriors were all under a curse, and were going to die unless it was broken. The boy had grown fond of the warrior, even though he was a villain, he had always helped the boy, and given him strength and friends. So he fought the curse, and found a way to break it.”
“And then the warrior became a good guy?” Eri asks, and frowns when Fuuta shakes his head.
“Everyone was happy, but the boy still had to inherit the villain kingdom. In desperation, he turned to the warrior, asking him to stand with the boy in rejecting the role. But the warrior refused. To him, the kingdom of villains was too important to leave without a king, and he believed the boy would be the best person for the job.”
“But the boy didn’t want to be a villain” Eri summarised “Especially the king of them.”
“Right” Fuuta agrees. “He was very sad, and didn’t know what to do. The Villain Kingdom was so powerful, there was nowhere in the world he would be able to run. He could never escape.”
“Couldn’t he ask heroes for help?” Eri asks, and Fuuta shook his head.
“There were no heroes in his kingdom. The Villain Kingdom was so powerful, anyone with powerful quirks was abducted into their kingdom. It was so powerful, that most people didn’t even realise just how powerful they were. The boy was on his own.”
Eri’s face fell, and Fuuta quickly pushed on.
“But-But then!” he continues. “The lord that could speak with his other versions came to the boy, and told him of a way to escape. In the future, he had tried to bring another version of himself into his world, but the other lord didn’t survive properly, but then he realised the problem was you couldn’t have two versions of a person in the same world. If the boy used the method the lord used – to go to a world where the Villain Kingdom never existed, and he had never existed, he would be just fine, and the Villain Kingdom would never find him.”
“So he could live a happy life!” Eri squeals.
“The boy agrees, and many of his friends agree to join him. And so, they jumped into another world.”
“And lived happily ever after?” Eri asked.
Fuuta smiles. “Hopefully. That part hasn’t been finished yet.”
Eri nods. “It’s a sad story” she says. “Nobody came to help the boy, not even the people he thought he could trust. But I like the ending. It’s a happy one. I like sad stories with happy endings.”
Fuuta grins back. “So do I.”
“Do you think the boy and his friends will get to be happy in the new world?” Eri asks.
At the question, Fuuta looks away, glancing back at his desk and at the heavy book he’d been reading before she came in.
“I don’t know” he admits. “It’s hard to rank happiness. But I want to believe so.”
“Eri!” Aizawa’s voice calls up from the lower floor. “Are you ready to head back?”
The girl’s head jerks in the direction of the door, before looking over at Fuuta apologetically.
“Thank you for the story” she says. “Maybe I can come back and hear it again?”
“Sure” Fuuta promises. “And you can tell me your story too.”
“My story’s not that interesting” Eri mumbles, and Fuuta shakes his head.
“Everyone’s story is interesting” he insists. “And yours is ranked pretty high.”
“Ranked?” Eri repeats, and Fuuta grins.
“I’ll tell you next time.”
#katekyo hitman reborn#katekyo hitman reborn fanfiction#khr#khr fanfiction#khrxbnha#bnha fanfiction#bnha#my hero academia#fuuta#eri#fanfiction#fanfic#out of this world
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Borderlands: Skies the Bodyguard 1
Jack sends Wilhelm on an important mission.
Previous!
Next!
--
Chapter 13
“H-Handsome Jack, sir, I-I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the employee sniveled, “I-I would never embezzle from the company. Was it Nicholson who said that? He’s lying! He’s been trying to ruin me for years!”
“Jackson,” Jack growled with annoyance. “You think I don’t watch the numbers? You think I don’t notice when something’s off? You think I’m an idiot?”
“N-no, sir, I-I d-.”
The poor sap didn’t even have a chance to finish begging as Jack took out his pocket watch. I watched from the office door as he wrapped the chain around the sucker’s throat, struggling not to smirk. I always did enjoy the way their eyes popped out.
Jack let his chain slip from the still twitching corpse and pocketed the watch. He sighed as he straightened his jacket and spoke into his ECHO comm. “Clean up in Mr. Randal Jackson’s old office.”
With that, he turned on his heel and marched to the door. I waited until he was fully out before following, like an obedient shadow.
I watched Jack closely as we walked through the corridors. His shoulders were still square, his head was still held high, and his eyes still looked straight ahead. Everyone we passed still looked at him with the same amount of respect and/or fear. But I knew.
Jack’s preferred method of dealing with nobody, no good employees was the airlock. Strangling was reserved for more ‘personal’ dealings. But it is definitely more satisfying than shooting someone out an airlock.
Yup, it was obvious to me. Jack was pissed.
He had every right to be, really. Thanks to the Vault Hunters, Roland narrowly escaped Hyperion’s grasp. Now they were all safe in Sanctuary, laughing and plotting. So for the last couple days, Jack was in rotten mood and taking it out on anyone who dared slip up.
Oh, well. As long as it wasn’t me.
When we arrived back at his office, Wilhelm was in his usual spot in the lobby but with a most unwelcome guest.
Professor Nakayama was standing by the office door, clutching his briefcase to his chest. All of us looked at him with the same amount of disgust.
“Ah, sir, it’s time for our weekly appointment,” he said excitedly.
Jack scoffed with blatant repugnance but Nakayama’s smile didn’t waver. When Jack didn’t demand he leave or strangle him, I motioned for him to follow us into the office.
Jack collapsed into his chair and immediately turned his attention to his computer. I told Nakayama to remain on the other side of the desk and attached the probes to Jack’s head. As his memory was copied, I stood beside him and watched the computer screen.
It was still black. It didn’t look like the Vault Hunters had left Sanctuary at all since we left. This deeply displeased Jack as he growled softly, his eyes narrowing. I glanced at him warily before quietly clearing my throat and motioning to Nakayama to wrap it up.
Even with his rose-coloured glasses, Nakayama could tell when Jack was in a bad mood. So he finished the memory copying and left without another word except for, “thank you for your time, sir.”
Jack exclaimed in aggravation as he leant back in his chair. “What are they doing? Angel, can you hear them at all?”
“I’ve caught a few things, sir,” she replied, “and you’ll be happy to know, they’ve taken your bait.”
“Huh?” I questioned while Jack’s face lit up.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. They should be leaving shortly.”
“About time,” he said, smiling for the first time in days.
“What bait?” I asked.
“All part of the plan,” he smirked and clapped his hands together. “Welp, better get everything ready.”
He typed on his keyboard and an item digistructed onto his desk. It looked like a large battery. Then he went over to his minibar and started making drinks. I approached him curiously but before I could see what he was making, he handed me two shot glasses of brandy but one was fizzing like crazy.
“What’s the deal with this one?” I asked.
“Just a lil’ somethin’ special for Wilhelm,” he replied then added seriously. “Do not drink it.”
I blinked with surprise and glanced at it warily.
After he grabbed the battery, he strode out of the office and I trotted after him.
“Wilhelm!” Jack boomed as we entered the lobby. “Have I got a job for you!”
Wilhelm looked at him expectantly, almost excitedly.
“I’ve got some important cargo that needs transporting and you’re just the man to transport it,” Jack announced as he handed him the battery. “This needs to take a trip through the Tundra Express. You must keep it on you at all times. Once you’ve reached your destination, I’ll let you know what to do next.”
“Understood,” Wilhelm nodded as he tucked the battery away.
“Great,” he exclaimed happily and nodded at me. I handed Wilhelm the fizzing drink. Even with his limited expression, he looked at me questionably. I just shrugged.
“Cheers!” Jack exclaimed, holding his own shot glass high. We toasted and drank.
“Now then,” he declared and took our glasses, resting them on the table before leading us to the fast travel station. He quickly punched in some coordinates and stepped aside. “Off you go. Your ride will be leaving soon.”
Wilhelm nodded before teleporting away. Jack beamed, almost too happy. I eyed him curiously as we went back into his office.
“Angel,” he sung, “Wilhelm’s ready to go.”
“Understood,” Angel replied, “the train and the guards will be ready shortly.”
“Excellent,” Jack grinned as he sat in his chair. The Vault Hunters were finally on the move. Looked like they were going through Three Horns Divide.
I watched Jack closely as I sat in my chair. His switch had flipped way too quickly.
“So what’s the deal with that thing?” I asked, “why’s it so important that Wilhelm has to guard it?”
“It’s a power cell,” he replied, “and with it, we’ll be able to destroy Sanctuary.”
I blinked, impressed. “Really. So where’s it going?”
“Sanctuary, duh.”
I was confused again. “How’s Wilhelm supposed to get it there?”
“He won’t. The Vault Hunters will.”
I just stared at him incredulously. Jack rolled his eyes, still grinning. “Just watch. It’s more fun that way.”
I shrugged agreeably and watched the screen as the Vault Hunters entered the Tundra Express.
“Oh, oh, I know what happens next!” Tina squeals excitedly, bouncing up and down. “The Vault Hunters meet Mordy, who tell them that a Vault Key is being moved on a Hyperion train, then they come to me, and I help them blow it up! And then-.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Skies snaps, “who’s telling this story, you or me?”
“But I already know this part,” she whines, “and it’s one of the best parts because it’s got explosions and me!”
Skies smiles wearily and rolls his eyes. “You know your side. But isn’t the whole point of this to tell my side?”
“Fiiiiiiine,” Tina groans dramatically and leans back. “Go ahead.”
She smiles, satisfied, and leans against the side of her old cell. “Actually, it’s ironic that this is your favourite part of the story. Because for me, it’s when things started to go bad.”
#Borderlands#Borderlands 2#Borderlands fanfiction#Borderlands 2 fanfiction#Borderlands au#my oc#my art
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Colors Ask
Original list can be found here! Though some of these were doctored up a wee bit just so I could make better sense of them.
[RED] What are you most passionate about? How did this passion develope?
My passion has been creating these ideas and worlds and AUs or even just overarching plots to stories I'll probably never write. It started with my voracious habit to read - something I probably do WAY too much of if I'm too be honest. As I read I would theorize and extrapolate from what the story told so far and I guess it became a habit. Now I look at fandoms I like or pairings and suddenly and writing down notes, sketching designs, and looking up references for this whole new Alternate Universe just because I can. I love it!
[ORANGE] How many pieces of fruit do you aim to eat per day? What do you actually manage?
Uh, I don't eat often bub. A meal at McDonalds is enough to fill me up for an entire 24-hour period. I eat fruit when my body craves it which tends to be about once a week to every other week.
[YELLOW] What's your happy place? Real or fictional?
Okay. That 'happy place' idea is utter bullshit. When I get an anxiety/panick attack, I don't go to a tranquil place in my mind and start to feel better. That doesn't help because guess what, an idle mind is the perfect playground for personal demons. Happy Places probably exist but they don't do jackshit once you're already in one and besides, I couldn't never keep my thoughts straight enough in the middle of an attack to make a decision.
[GREEN] Do you prefer indoors or outdoors? What's your favorite flower to smell?
Indoors during winter and late autumn, outdoors the rest of the year. I like to just lay in the grass when the sun is high on a clear, breezy day and bask in the light like a cat. As for flower... hell if I know. A flower is a flower to my brain.
[BLUE] What is your favorite mode of long distance transportation? Have you ever been on a plane? If so, what was it like?
Uh, car. I've only been a plane plane twice (nearly passed right out walling to my seat the first time I was so terrified) but both were utterly boring. The book I brought with I finished before half the trip was over. Though it was fun seeing the clouds, I think they would get boring after so many trips. And besides, in a car trip on my own, I can play whatever music I want however loud I please.
[INDIGO] What's your top three names? Would you ever consider having children?
I actually have a list in Google Drive because my boyfriend and I had started talking about the possibility of having kids sometime in the next five to ten years. Looking at it, it's hard to choose but it follows a pattern of a Latin, Greek, or Irish word that had meaning.
Daughter: it would be Eirini (Greek: Peace), Elpida (Greek: Hope), and Nadur (Irish: Nature).
Son: Anam (Latin: Soul), Rioga (Irish: Royal), and Nostrum (Latin: Ours).
[VIOLET] What's your favorite cake flavour? Are you any good at baking?
Chocolate hands down. If it's chocolate you got me. And yes, I am very good at baking. My two favorite recipes are Red Velvet cake with Cream Cheese frosting and Flour-less Chocolate Torte. Both arevcompletely from scratch mind you, frosting and all. So god damned delicious.
[PURPLE] Do you support the Royal Family? Who is your favorite historical figure and why?
Royal Family? Well, I don't know anything about them instead of Royal Family how about President? And no, I do not support a large portion of Trump's decisions mainly to do with his methods and the nuances of those decisions.
Also, I don't really have a favorite hostiorical figure? Or even one I like? To me they're like one big tapestry that details the human race, one which is still continually being added to. They are a part of the whole. Which to put in layman's terms means I like history overall more than any singular person involved.
[PINK] What is your favorite animal? Zoos or farms?
CATS!!! I love house cats, big cats, wild cats, domesticated cats, exotic cats, local cats, cats, cats, cats! But not the musical, lol. But I'd rather see cats in their natural habits. Hells, I'd rather see all animals in their natural habits when considering non-domesticaed animal breeds. I don't like either of them if the purpose is to just visit the animals in them.
[TURQUOISE] Do you like being in the sea? What coastal town is your favorite to visit?
Hm. I was born and raised in the land of ten thousand lakes and have only ever been to the coast twice, the Gulf of Mexico and the Southern Californian coast in specific. I was able to wade into the ocean when I went to the Gulf but I don't think that would be a good choice to base my decision on as I was stung my floating remnants of jellyfish and then didn't risk going in again after that. To make things easier, let's go with large bodies of water in general, to which the answer is a wholesome yes. I love to swim and float in the water.
[MINT] Do you like astrology? Do you consider Pluto a 'real planet'?
Ah. This question. I do occasionally practice witchcraft when I have a good purpose to do so - such as making a charm for a friend, cleansing my home, and other such things. Astrology is part of what I do so yes, I like it in the sense that it helps me work or stronger correspondences. As for Pluto....bot really. Pluto is a dwarf planet by scientific standards. In my practice, there isn't much to tie it to outside of a person's sign related to it. It's hard to work with it because of this as all the other planets (substituting earth with the moon here) have ample correspondences.
[CRIMSON] Have you ever broken and bone before? Do you enjoy going to the dentist?
Hell no to both questions. Next!
[AMBER] Do you have a license to drive? If now, how do you get around?
Yes I do! I have a 2007 Volkswagen Jetta Wolfsberg edition. My first car, used it be my dad. I've had it for just about two years now and I keep her in tip top shape as much as a possibly can! Just wish I had a proper garage so I could do my own small repairs and work on her.
[LIME] Do you like monkeys? Do you believe the theory of evolution?
No, I don't really care for monkeys. And from a scientific standpoint, yes I do.
[TANGERINE] How tall are you? Do you ever wish you were taller or shorter?
I am literally just a hair below 5'11" and for a woman my age where I live, that is really tall. I match height with most men I've met. But I do sometimes wish I was shorter just because my height and stature paired with my resting bitch face tend to intimidate or slightly scare people when they first meet me. I often have to explain that, "No, I'm not angry, this is just my normal look when I'm not really feeling any specific emotion. You're fine, I swear. I just look like this." And I'm a gentle giant. Think BFG if you know it. I'm the one who will jump in to protect and be a meat shield for someone else but am unable to raise a hand for my own safety. People being scared of me just makes me feel really damn sad and depressed.
[AZURE] Which gender and sexuality do you most identify with?
Uuuuuuh. Hm. Well- that is kinda a hard question? For gender I think the closest I can relate to is genderfliud. I don't have any body dysphoria but I do know there are times I feel way more masculine than feminine. The reverse is just as equally true. And then there are times where I don't feel like I have a specific gender. Sexuality can make this kind of hard to pin down for me. Put it this way. I am panromantic but I find males sexually arousing much more than I do females. And for those curious (unlikely anyone) I'll go by any pronoun. He, she, it, they/them, I really don't give a fuck.
[BEIGE] What is your favorite pop/soda? Do you enjoy alcohol?
P E P S I. Coke is an abomination, something which my boyfriend heavily disagrees with the heathen... I don't....really like to drink often. Alcoholism kind of runs in the family and due to that, I'm more likely to form a codependency on it as well. My family on my Dad's side is heavily German if that helps make more sense. But I do enjoy sweet wines the very few times I allow myself a glass, no more than two.
[CORAL] What is your favorite Disney movie? Who does it better, Disney or Pixar?
You- you can't just ASK me this!! I grew up on Disney! To pick a favorite would be blasphemous of me!!! Also, if that didn't make it clear, Pixar can suck my sack. Disney for the win.
[SAPPHIRE] Do you wear any jewelry? What do you think looks best on other people?
I wear a silver ring on me right middle finger everyday 24/7 and only take it off during my job or when I'm going into any amount of water. I used to wear earrings as well but I lost my silver pair and I can only wear gold or silver. Yes, I have tried to nail polish trick and hypoallergenic. No, I couldn't get either to work with me. My ears would still puss around the non-pure metal earrings. Now I only wear any of my other earrings when I'm doing something special and never for more than a few hours or so.
[GOLD] What do you consider your biggest achievement? When was the last time you won (at) something?
Ah, achievements, things that
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Empathy is hard
For the majority of my life I have been baffled by a very deep, very stupid question. “How can someone who has taken a loan, enjoy anything?”
Now, I understand why that would sound stupid to you. It sounds stupid to me now. But as a twelve year old kid, all I could think when I saw my relatives who took a home loan, going to an expensive restaurant, was “How can you enjoy this moment? you have hundreds of thousands worth of loan! You should be saving every penny you can to pay back the loan! STOP ENJOYING!”
I believed this stupid thing till the day I got myself a student loan. I still vaguely remember the day I actually got the loan. After, I finished signing all the documents at the bank, came back to my hostel room exhausted and instinctively went to the cafeteria to have a hot cup of coffee. I don’t remember precisely but, probably that was the time I realized what every debtor ever in the whole word know: “I will not be changing my daily behavior or stop “enjoying” just because I got a loan.”
Let me tell another instance of similar behavior. I couldn’t believe people liked drinking coffee without sugar. I thought they have something wrong with their taste buds or they intentionally want to drink bad coffee or they just don’t want to be happy. And of course I started drinking coffee without sugar recently. Now, why I started it is a story for another time. But the important thing is that I now prefer my coffee without sugar and yes my taste buds are fine.
Similar story repeats when it comes to me starting to use public transport, switching to Ubuntu OS and using fountain pens.
Now, apart from highlighting the stupidity of my younger self, the point I want to make here is that Empathy is hard. It was hard for me to get into thought process of a debtor until I became one. Same goes for those drinking espresso or writing with fountain pen.
Ah…Empathy, the hottest new buzz word in technology and corporate scene. Everyone from designers, to product managers to the CEOs are supposed to have empathy now. That’s the rule according to the popular twitter wisdom at least. The likes of Satya Nadella have attributed it to the success of their companies. Countless others have written blogs and books about it.
What is Empathy?
Let me do the cliche thing first. {In generic old English man’s voice} : Websters English Dictionary define empathy as “the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner”
If you skipped the last paragraph, you are not alone. No, seriously. I copied the definition from the Webster’s website but haven’t read it. Let me give you a simpler, more metaphorical definition. “To empathize with someone is to put yourself in someone’s shoes.” That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. More methodically it is creating emotional and behavior model of someone for yourself. It is not holding hands with someone, but looking through their lens.
It definitely not the touchy-feely thing you only feel for the less fortunate.(Hint: That’s sympathy)
With this definition in mind, it becomes obvious why many businesses want their employees to empathize with their customers. And it seems very easy to do, especially if you are the target customer. But if you are not, it can be very difficult as I have demonstrated earlier. It is hard for a charter jet interior designer to empathize with their billionaire customers. And it is hard for a millionaire CEO to empathize with poor malaria victim customers of her medicine.
I am in a minor Empathy deficiency of my own right now. I am developing an internet product for migrant blue-collar workers. I find it extremely difficult to judge what product feature someone will use, what will they like and what they wont.
I have found two ways which seem to be working for me to empathize with my target audience. I think they are general enough to be applicable for most readers.
1. Talk with them when they are emotional.
Talk to your customers or whoever you want to empathize with. But talking to them when everything is good and happy is not that helpful. Talk to them when they are angry, when they are frustrated and sad. What frustrate someone? What makes them angry and sad? Answers to these questions will tell you what they care about, what is important to them. This will help you create a better mental model of their emotions and behaviors.
If they are angry and frustrated at your particular service or product, That is the golden opportunity. Don’t avoid such customer calls. Those calls would probably save you hundreds of A/B tests later on.
2. Read or Watch fiction.
Fiction, where the characters belong to your target audience can be a very useful tool for developing empathy. If the creators and writers have done a good job, not only you will be able to empathize better, but you would find it difficult not to empathize with the characters.
You are essentially outsourcing empathy creation to the writers and storytellers. This can be a powerful and entertaining tool of forming empathy.
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Chapter Five: Part Two
Moments later, William steered his motorcycle into an eerie looking alley and parked it. He got off and smiled at Madeleine, who was taking off her helmet.
“Where are we?”
“Well, we’re almost there. I didn’t want to give the surprise away just yet, so we’re walking there.” William said as he took both helmets and put them in the back compartment of his bike.
“You’re just loving this, aren’t you?” Madeleine asked as she dismounted the bike and stared at him.
“What? Annoying you? Always, Princess, always.”
The pair began to walk down the dimly lit alleyway, and came out on the crowded London streets. Madeleine observed her surroundings, hoping to find something she was familiar with but she couldn’t see anything that looked remotely familiar. She didn’t know London well enough yet.
“I’m curious, do you know where you are?” William asked her as he led them through the crowds of people on the busy London sidewalk.
They seemingly blended into the crowds, no one had noticed them yet. That could be because William was wearing a baseball cap, and Madeleine wasn’t necessarily as well known to the British people as he was. But she hoped for the rest of the night, they could go manage to go unnoticed.
“Not really, I haven’t been in London long enough to learn the city.”
“Well at least you have me as your tour guide for the night.” William stopped and turned to her. “Hey Princess, look up.”
Madeleine frowned at him before she looked up into the sky. She smiled as she saw all the city had to offer just blocks away. The London Eye, Big Ben, Westminister Abbey.
“I’m seeing lots, but what in particular should I be looking at?” She asked, smiling.
“All of it. That’s your surprise. You’re getting me as your personal tour guide for the night to see the city. I have the whole thing planned but the question is... Where to first, Princess?” William asked, grinning at her.
Madeleine couldn’t help but jump out of excitement. She had wanted to tour all of London since she and Louise first arrived but hadn’t had the chance. And now she was going to experience it all firsthand with a Londoner, who just so happened to be Prince William.
Madeleine turned to him, “Surprise me.”
William furrowed his brow. “Are you setting me up for failure here? I thought you didn’t like surprises.”
“I didn’t, at least until you came along.”
William grinned with satisfaction as he offered his arm out to her. “Alright then, your tour awaits you. On to the London Eye!”
Madeleine linked her arm with his and they made their way arm in arm to their first stop.
After a forty-five minute private ride on the London Eye, Madeleine found herself completely in love with London. She’d gotten up close and personal with the city, as she’d had the opportunity to see a good chunk of it in detail. And now she couldn’t imagine a better place to be in.
Now, William was escorting her to their next destination, Big Ben. Madeleine was in awe of how much thought William had put into their night. She was glad she’d come along with him. But a small part of her wondered what tonight truly was. Was it just a night out or was it a date? She was afraid to ask in fear that it would dampen their mood, so for right now she was too content with how things were going to ask him.
“So, Princess. Are you enjoying your night so far?”
Madeleine grinned over at him. “I can’t even make a snarky remark. Tonight has been fantastic. Thank you, William.”
William gave her a smile, one of those smiles that lit up his whole face. “Well, well I didn’t even know if you knew how to give a compliment. Especially towards me. But, I’m the one who should be thanking you, Princess.”
Madeleine raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”
“Yes, you see I never thought I’d hear from you after my Gran and your parents forced us together. I know we got on as the night went on at Buckingham, but I still wasn’t sure if I’d have the pleasure of seeing you again. So thank you Madeleine, for not letting them affect how you think of me. I hope I won’t let you down.” William said as they came directly in front of Westminister Palace and looked out over the bridge onto River Thames.
Madeleine smiled over at him. “That night at Buckingham definitely wasn’t how I expected it to go but, I couldn’t have imagined it any other way. I’m glad I met you William, and I’m happy to be here with you right now.”
“My, my I think she likes me! Alert the presses!” William exclaimed, grinning at Madeleine.
Madeleine giggled, as her eyes met his. “I think they already have been alerted, remember? Now, how about we go check out Big Ben?”
“Ok, I’ll race you.” William replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine but be prepared to lose. And then you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” Madeleine said, grinning.
“Psh, this is coming from the girl who couldn’t manage to jump off the fire escape by herself. I’ll take my chances.” William paused. “On three, Princess?”
Madeleine nodded and William began to count. “One, two....”
William didn’t get to three, before Madeleine darted off ahead of him. Her laughter filling the air as he rolled his eyes and began to chase after her.
William came up beside her, as they were nearing the end of Westminster Palace and almost to Big Ben. “You know cheating doesn’t count.”
“Really? I thought you Englishmen and women did things differently.” Madeleine said grinning.
“Nope, cheating is cheating anywhere in the world.” William paused, “And I for one, will not stand for it.”
“And what are you going to do about it?” Madeleine asked as she gained a bit of a lead on him and began to run backwards.
William chuckled. “Well, this...”
He sprinted towards her and effortlessly picked her up and swung her over his shoulder, causing Madeleine to squeal.
“Now who is the cheater!”
“Still you, Princess.” He replied as they stopped in front of Big Ben.
William sat Madeleine down in front of him and she looked up at him with her hands on her hips. “Could you please stop picking me up? Just because you can doesn’t mean that you should.”
“Now that you’ve asked me not to, it’s only encouraged me to more.” William quipped and Madeleine growled.
“That is an entirely unfair advantage you have over me.” Madeleine replied, her hands still on her hips as she began to pout.
“My, you’re a sore loser.” William said, chuckling.
“No, more like I’m disappointed in your hospitality here. I mean, I’m the foreigner in a strange place here in the company of well, a stranger. The least you could’ve done for me was let me win.” Madeleine said with a small smirk on her lips.
“Bullshit! Now would you quit your complaining and take in London’s sights please? We do have an agenda!” William said nudging her in the arm and Madeleine turned her attention to the giant clock that was towering over them.
After visiting Big Ben, William proved that they did have a packed agenda to follow for the rest of the night with visits to the Westminister Abbey, the Sea Life Aquarium and the London Dungeon.
As they exited the London Dungeon with their bags of souvenirs, that William insisted they buy to mark the occasion, Madeleine found herself exhausted from his night of events.
Yawning, Madeleine looked over at William and smiled. “Well you outdid yourself, Prince William.”
William furrowed his brow. “Hold up, you think that’s it? You have the grand finale coming up, Princess!”
Madeleine began to chuckle. “Are you insane? Everything is nearly closed now.”
“Well, if you’re not up for it then I can take you home. But it involves breaking and entering.” William said and he grinned at the quizzical expression he got from Madeleine in response.
“I’m sorry did you just say, breaking and entering? What on earth do you have planned?”
“Well you’ll just have to come with me to find out. That is, unless you’re too tired.” William said smiling at Madeleine, who was yawning again.
“No, no I’m interested to see what this grand finale is.”
William extended his hand to Madeleine and she took it. “I have a car waiting for us. Come on.”
“What about your motorcycle?” Madeleine asked.
“Oh don’t worry, your preferred method of transportation is safe and sound back at Clarence House.” William replied as he led her to a black BMW waiting for them.
Twenty minutes later, the BMW pulled up in front of what appeared to be the grand finale.
“Kensington Palace?” Madeleine asked as she looked from her window over to William.
“Why yes, Princess.” William responded with a look of mischief in his eyes.
“I’m confused, your family owns this. It’s not exactly breaking and entering, William.”
“Ah but we don’t exactly have permission to be here. So, in a way, it is.” William replied as he exited the car and extended his hand out to Madeleine to help her out of the car.
Madeleine just looked at his outstretched hand. “Why in the hell do we have to break in? I don’t need to be in a police report.”
William popped his head in the BMW and put his face directly in front of Madeleine’s. “Princess, come on. Be young and reckless with me.”
Madeleine cocked her head to the side. “This is preposterous, William. This literally makes no sense for us to do.”
“Madeleine, be the Party Princess. Come on.” William replied, offering his hand to her again.
Madeleine sighed before she took his hand. “Do not make me regret this.”
“Oh, you won’t.” William said as he led her down the fence, past the main gates.
“How exactly are you planning on getting in anyways? Aren’t there security patrols and alarms?” Madeleine asked as she observed the palace grounds to make sure there wasn’t a security guard in their midst.
“There are, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t flaws in the system. Security cameras and sensors stop at a certain part of the fence, you can slip in and out undetected. And the guards don’t walk the grounds for another hour.” William replied as he stopped them in a far left corner of the fence.
“And you know this how?”
“I used to live here, darling. Harry and I snuck out all the time, don’t worry no one will know we were here.” William said grinning.
“And your brother is nicknamed the wild one, imagine that.” Madeleine replied, shaking her head.
“Oh he is, I’ve got nothing on Hazza.” William gestured towards a break in the fence. “Ok, we’re going to climb in this way. I’ll go first.”
Madeleine watched as William slinked in through the break in the fence. She wondered if this was a good idea, but in the end she decided to follow his lead. How much trouble could they actually get in if they were caught?
She climbed in the break and was suddenly on the grounds of Kensington. She expected an alarm to go off, because she figured this was all too easy. But after a few seconds all she heard were the sounds of London traffic in the distance.
“What next, William?”
William grinned at her determination, then pointed across the property. “Ok, so you see that door over there? We just have to sneak across the property to the door, which is usually unlocked, and we’re in.”
“And what if it’s not unlocked?” Madeleine asked.
“Well, it has to be or we’re out of luck.” William replied as Madeleine sighed.
“You could have just ended the night with the Dungeon.” Madeleine said as she ran a hand through her hair.
“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” William replied, taking Madeleine’s hand. “Come on, and quit worrying.”
Madeleine followed as William crept across the grounds of Kensington. They slinked through the timed lights, waiting for each of them to turn on and off before they passed. William showed her all of the security motion detectors to avoid and jump over, and she thankfully avoided them.
After what felt like hours of sneaking across the palace grounds, they were at the door. The door that needed to be unlocked, or this was all apparently for nothing.
William turned the doorknob and it opened to reveal a dark room.
“Hallelujah!” William said followed with a sigh of relief.
Madeleine chuckled. “It’d be some press headline if we got caught in here after hours. I can see the magazines now ‘Madeleine and William’s dirty date gone wrong!’ or ‘William and Madeleine: The Party Prince and Princess’.”
William raised an eyebrow at her as he turned the light on, illuminating the dark room. “Oh so this is a date now?”
“What? No. That’s what the press would say, dummy.” Madeleine replied as her cheeks turned red.
William smirked. “Well this could be considered a date, but I don’t think you like me enough for that.”
“I like you plenty. More like I couldn’t give my parents and your grandmother the satisfaction of going on a date with you.” Madeleine retorted.
“No, you could just break into Kensington with me. But hey, you do you Princess.” William declared before he left Madeleine to go to the next room.
“Hey! Where in the hell are you going!?” Madeleine hollered after him as she hurried into the room.
“Chill, or the guards will hear you. Have you never broken in anywhere?” William replied rolling his eyes.
“As a matter of a fact, no. You on the other hand...” Madeleine countered.
“And what exactly does that mean?” William asked as he led Madeleine through a bunch of different offices.
“You seem well, erm, experienced in this.” Madeleine paused as they passed through yet another office. “Do you even know where we are?”
William huffed. “I know where the closest exit is, you on the other hand...”
Madeleine gasped as she thumped him in the shoulder. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Watch me, Your Royal Highness.” He said as he held open a door for her.
Madeleine walked through the door and instantly stopped in her tracks. Ok, so William did know where he was.
She was standing in a stunning entry way of Kensington and was looking directly at the King’s Grand Staircase. The walls were painted in immaculate murals, the ceilings were embossed with lavish carvings, and the staircase was a beautiful iron carved design.
“Welcome to the King’s Grand Staircase.” William declared as he grinned over at Madeleine.
“It’s gorgeous.” Madeleine exclaimed. “The stairs, they’re just begging for me to slide down the banister.”
William let out a chuckle. “Go on then.”
Madeleine shook her head and smiled. “I couldn’t, maybe if I ever get more comfortable with the place I will.”
“Well, you can always do it on your way out.” William said as he led Madeleine up the Grand Staircase.
“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” Madeleine replied, following him slowly up the stairs as she tried to take in the gorgeous paintings on the walls.
William gave Madeleine the generic tourist tour of Kensington first. As a child he’d snuck in on many tours and had the facts about Kensington memorized. He took her through the Queen’s State Apartments, the King’s State Apartments, and lastly The King’s Gallery. Madeleine oohed and aahed over every single room and fact he told her, much to his delight.
They were coming back down the Grand Staircase after finishing the tour at nearly one o’clock in the morning.
“You outdid yourself. This night was just... wow.” Madeleine said, grinning over at William.
William smiled. “I actually have one more surprise, but it’s later than I planned. So I understand if you want to get home.”
Madeleine shook her head. “Oh no, I’m trying to figure out how this night could get better but go on and surprise me again.”
“Well if you insist.” William said taking Madeleine’s hand in his.
Madeleine looked down at her hand in William’s. She couldn’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. How right it felt, right here with him. She liked how he made her feel; comfortable and safe, but he challenged her too.
Moments later, after walking down various hallways and entering different rooms, William had led Madeleine to the true grand finale. He opened a final door and there it was, the night got even better.
They were standing in their own personal movie theater, lit with romantic twinkling lights and candles. She couldn’t believe him. He’d thought of everything. There were beers chilling, popcorn waiting to be popped, various types of candy waiting in baskets, blankets, snack foods. And rose petals leading from the doorway to the two chairs, positioned in front of a massive screen, that were waiting for them.
“Too much?” William asked as he looked over at Madeleine, waiting on her reaction.
They hadn’t moved from their spot in the doorway because Madeleine was trying to take all of this in. How did he manage to do this all in a matter of days? Is this why she didn’t hear from him? He was creating the perfect night. She turned to him and looked into his eyes, she smiled. “No, well maybe. But it’s perfect. I’m about speechless.”
“And I didn’t even think that was possible.” William extended an arm out to her. “Shall we, Mads?”
Mads. It was an obvious nickname for her. Yet, no one had ever called her that in all of her nineteen years. And suddenly she only ever wanted him to call her that. She wanted to be his Mads.
Madeleine linked her arm with his as he escorted her to her viewing chair. He took a seat beside her.
“So what are we watching?” Madeleine asked as she looked over at him.
“Well you have options. I couldn’t pick one movie so you have your choice between Casablanca and Jurassic Park.”
Madeleine couldn’t help but laugh at her options. “My, those are two very different choices. How will I ever decide?”
“I didn’t know what type of movies you liked so I decided to give you two very different options.” William replied.
“Casablanca, it is.”
“Good choice, that was one of my Mum’s favorites. And would you like a snack or refreshment?” William replied, rising from his seat.
“Um how about Twizzlers and a beer?” Madeleine decided, as she watched him go to a projector in the back corner of the room and set up Casablanca.
He then moved and grabbed two beers, her Twizzlers, and a bag of potato chips for him. He joined her just as the movie was starting, and he placed a blanket over them.
“I’m glad I came out with you tonight.” Madeleine said as she laid her head on William’s shoulder.
William looked down at her. “Me too, Mads.”
A few minutes passed into Casablanca and Madeleine found she couldn’t concentrate on the movie. She kept thinking of the closeness currently between her and William. She could feel his warmth, she could smell him; sweet and smoky. He didn’t flinch when she laid her head on his shoulder, so this must be a date. Right? It wasn’t the perfect time to ask him, but she needed to know how he felt before the night continued.
“William?”
“Yeah, Princess?” He replied looking down at her.
“What exactly is tonight? Are we just hanging out or is it well um.... a date?” Madeleine asked, not moving from her comfy spot on his shoulder.
“Well, I suppose it depends. What do you want it to be?” He asked.
Madeleine cleared her throat and fidgeted in her chair before she responded. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing, in case she had different feelings for him than he did for her. But at the same time she admired how honest she could be with William, so she decided to go with honesty.
“Would you hold it against me if I said I hoped this was a date?”
William smiled down at her. “No, because that’s what I hoped your answer would be.”
Madeleine smiled back at him as he wrapped his arm around her and she snuggled into his chest. She wasn’t sure what exactly her relationship with William would hold, or how far it would go. But one thing was for certain, he was everything she didn’t plan on when she came to London. He was unexpected and up until recently, nothing close to what she had in mind for herself. Maybe he could change that, or maybe he already had.
A/N: Hey guys! I so hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had a ball writing it! As always I hope you guys will send your feedback and thoughts to me, it’s always so encouraging!
On another note, I’d like to direct you all to @royalfanficcentral! It’s a new blog that reblogs new chapters and posts about all of the great fanfics in the fandom (including this one!). I hope that you’ll give them a follow, it’s a great blog for you if you like royal fanfiction like mine. Anyways, I hope you all have a great weekend and can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter! - Jill
#royal fanfic#royalfanficcollection#royalfanficcentral#princess madeleine ff#madeleine and william ff
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> CC : Tell DH You Got Dunked
Last Thursday at 5:14 PM
caepaeCaesurae
Evwening chief
devotedHarlequin
Cae! C3<
caepaeCaesurae
c3< :)
An honor and a pleasure. Howv's the evwening?
devotedHarlequin
it is being a well enough evening, though I were having to extract a wriggler from the heating ducts.
caepaeCaesurae
WVhy are they large enough for anyone to get into?
devotedharlequin
it is not that they are large, it is that the wriggler is so small
caepaeCaesurae
trolls clamber into any space they can fit, honestly
devotedHarlequin
also it is having to do, I think, with carrying enough air to be being effective
caepaeCaesurae
hm.
caepaeCaesurae
I imagine there's plenty of design that goes into the things.
caepaeCaesurae
Had your ear to the rumor mill lately?
devotedHarlequin
:oO I aint done what is being the happening
caepaeCaesurae
Long story short, Mituna and I had a bit of a fight, but wve're doing much better nowv.
devotedHarlequin
Hm. And this fight is being of enough worrisomeness that you are thinking that you need to tell me, but also too trying to make it sound not so bad?
caepaeCaesurae
It wvas noticeable enough that there's rumors going around.
Happy to tell you the full thing ovwer a drink if you wvant.
caepaeCaesurae
But...aye, I don't really wvant anyone getting ovwer-fussed about it.
devotedHarlequin
Hm. I aint gonna say no to a drink, or to be seeing you where I can be stealing kisses and for certain sure seeing with mine own eyes that you are okay
caepaeCaesurae
I'm not saying no to kisses. Be there in a moment, chief.
devotedHarlequin
(o:
CC: Caesurae wraps himself in a cloak, and spends a while debating between walking out to the church and trying to teleport himself. In time, he heads down to the courtyard instead, and uses the public transport pad to transport over to the church pad.
DH: His ears perked at the sound of the transportalizer going off and he pocketed his pad, and dusted flour off his hands onto his apron, and walked on out thata way. Small clowns, still very young tussled and chased each other, two sweeps old and sturdy, with other older clowns keeping a close eye on them and waving at Caesurae. He was starting to be well recognized.
The door to the outside was knocked on and laborously opened by one of the adults with purple eyes with only a flew flecks of grey in them, letting in a pair of trolls with baskets full of eggs to hurry off down the hall, getting a laugh out of Arlequin as they passed.
"Cronus!" he grinned as he came into sight
CC: Cronus had some recent bite and scratch marks, but they looked a lot more like Nadaya's usual than anything Mituna could've (let alone would've) done. He grinned wryly when he saw Arlequin, wandering closer to acquire a hug and some relatively chaste cheek-kisses. "Hey, chief -- good to see you."
DH: Cro came away with new white lipstick as he drew back and Arlequin touched his face with a brush of floury knuckles {and you as well sweet voice of reason, have you eaten yet? If we're drinking it may be a good idea.}
CC: It was a good thing white was part of his aesthetic. Cronus gave a wink and a fond grin, loking up at the ridiculous giant. "{ WVhat a fantastic notion -- I'd lovwe to, if that's an offer. }"
CC: He seemed physically intact, which was possibly a nice reassurance.
DH: He beconned him with a grin. {There's plenty in the kitchen, there always is, we'll get a couple of flatbreads with some meat vegitables and cream on them} did he mean a pita? He might've. He was going to watch the way Cae moved for signs of lingering injury, but he was relaxing slowly.
CC: Caesurae was walking well, which was generally a good sign. Ankle soreness came and went, but just now he was in a good enough mood it wasn't bothering him. He followed along cheerfully, reaching up to rest a hand on Arlequin's shoulder as they walked. "{ You're a wvonder. I'm afraid my sylladex is busted at the moment, so I'll be making wvhatevwer I offer to drink -- so if you could havwe anything I might havwe heard of on Alternia, wvhat wvould it be? }"
DH: He snaked an arm around Cae and hummed a thoughtful sound. {I don't know that you would know our brew master, so I'd have to say perhaps [small exclusive brewery for highbloods]}
CC: "{ Unfortunately not, but I do knowv that one.. }" ...he uncaptchalogued a pleasantly chilled bottle of the suggested beverage, stroking his thumb across the neck of the glassware before offering it up to Arlequin. Tricking himself into uncaptchaloguing things he vaguely expected to have was /so much easier/ than making things out of smoke. He wasn't sure why he'd never picked up this method before, but he liked it.
DH: Arelquin took the cool bottle with raised eyebrows and a smile. {Garunteed to taste as good as you remember it} He winked at him and gently ushered him into the kitchen where a few of the boys were workin. He busied himself putting together a couple of pocket sandwhiches for them.
CC: He smiled wryly and shrugged his confirmation, then came along, leaning against the counter as he 'uncaptchalogued' another and rolled it in his palms. "{ Aye, that. ... Pardon if I wvorried you any. }"
DH: {You're strong and capable. My worry is why you're downplaying it so much.} He offered Caesurae a bread pocket wrapped in wax paper and absently ruffled one of the smaller clowns' hair. Time to head to his room.
CC: "{ Is it dowvnplaying? ..tsk. }" He shook his head, accepting the sandwich and taking it and his drink as he followed.
CC: "{ Perhaps one night I'll learn wvhy it sounds that wvay. }"
DH: {It does sound so. ..When something is so important you feel the need to bring it up, but continue to volenteer that everything is fine it rattles the nerves somewhat}He told him. {..I am glad to see you truly are well}
CC: ..he shook his head. "{ My apologies for that, as wvell then. }" A faint, sheepish smile. "{ Maybe I'll learn not to reassure you unless you ask, somenight. }"
DH: {I may have a suspicious mind.} He stepped around wrigglers and toys and made his way to his door, to hold it open for Caesurae.
CC: "{ So do wve all. }" He sidestepped the wrigglers easily, but had to swerve slightly to avoid a toy. He bowed his head as he passed through, finding somewhere comfortable to settle, where he'd be able to immediately lean on Arlequin once the larger troll was down.
DH: Arlequin settled in easily, the door wasn't locked but it was closed. He set his sandwich on a knee and opened the miracle beer his auspistice had given him. {what happened?}
CC: Caesurae sprawled out a bit, leaning against him, and taking a moment to wiggle his toes noncommitally before he started opening his own drink.
CC: "{ .. WVe argued online, at first, and I managed to offend him wvithout intent. He came to continue the convwersation face to face. }"
CC: "{ There wvas a conflict. My sylladex and many of its more delicate contents wvere destroyed, and I ended up unconscious in the bay. He took me to Kankri, wvho eased my panache and wvoke me. ...after a bit of convwersation, I think wve'vwe resolvwed evwerything, and are nowv at peace, wvith a greater dedication and fewver misunderstandings. He's resolvwed to fix evwerything that wvas broken, and wvorks at it yet. }"
CC: He managed to get his beverage open after all that, and glanced up at Arlequin finally, fin shifting.
DH: Arlequin turned that over in his mind, considering, then glanced down at him quickly, eyes going to his chest, looking for an amulet.
CC: He had his quadrant jewelry on, but no other adornments. A violet seadweller in a leather jacket.
DH: (the clover is what hes looking for))
CC: (( should still have it, yes ))
DH: He relaxed a little when he saw the encased clover and quietly wrapped an arm around him and hugged him against his side. {It sounds as if he were extremely angry, what did you say to him that got him so worked up?}
CC: Caesurae relaxed into the touch, but sighed slowly as he leaned against the larger troll. "... Apparently I implied he wvas damaged and I wvould havwe to make a decision for him. He wvasn't answvering questions, so I had to guess, and I seem to havwe guessed Exactly WVrong."
CC: "And nowv I knowv not to do that."
DH: "..Ah." He murmured and held the sea dweller against him. {He hates that. My memories and emotions are mixxed but that I think is the thing he hates most in creation. Being viewed as broken and having choices taken from him.} He frowned.
{..I am not surprised but it doesnt excuse fucking attacking you.}
CC: Caesurae leaned against the larger troll, and set his drink down so he could pat Arlequin's chest gently. "{ ..He's concerned there wvill be trouble for him from this. I don't particularly care as long as he behavwes in the future. }"
CC: "{ ...I wvas startled at the time, but there's no lasting harm. }"
DH: He grumbled an unsatisfied noise, and leaned down to kiss a horn. {It is your right to decide your feelings in this, you are the one he hurt. ..And I know that if I say anything against him the wrath of the entire palace will come against me in any case}
CC: "{ ..It wvill not, }" He leaned into the attention, then kissed a shoulder. "{ ..You can speak your mind, and he wvorries about your anger. I request that you make no threats, but that is my opinion. }"
CC: "{ All is wvell, and you and I are safe. }"
DH: {I am not stupid enough to threaten a former slave, even beyond the political and justice repercussions. .. I do care about him, whether I would prefer to or not, as well. I wonder if he understands that neither of us would raise a hand to him at all?} He shook his head.
CC: "{ ... I don't knowv wvhether he believwes, but I think he is becoming awvare of that on my end at least. ..One reason that I am glad wve spoke. }"
DH: {I am going to have to consider how to express that I'm angry with him without frightening him.} He frowned and started eating his sandwhich.
CC: Caesurae snuggled in, quietly starting to eat his own as if in response. He didn't speak, for a few minutes after that.
DH: {He would bait others. when we were young, into fights. Do you remember?}
DH: {He is an adult and needs to take charge of his actions during his mood swings.}
CC: "{ He is regretful, and wvishes I wvere angry. }"
DH: {Of course he is} He sighed.
CC: "{ ... It is no intentional act of comeuppance, but I find it difficult to believwe he doesn't havwe the right. }" nom.
DH: {I entirely understand that feeling, although you may want to make sure and give him some pushback, otherwise hes gonna think you're playing him.} What a good sandwich
CC: "{ ..I wvill try to remember. I think he is somewvhat convwinced, though. }"
CC: "{ .. He found some things among my effects that suggest I am being truthful. }"
DH: {remember when I used to drive you up a wall waitin for you to hate me?}
CC: He hesitated, then sighed audibly. "{ There wvere legitimate reasons to be concerned my opinion wvould change. }"
DH: He leaned down and kissed his head. {Let him decide how he feels about you and how to deal with that, I already fucked up enough trying to figure that out for both of us}
CC: Caesurae leaned against him, quietly. "{ ... I wvill try. }"
CC: "{ Do you regret asking me to judge? ... Or do you mean something else? }"
DH: He snorted softyly and decided to squeeze him. {I do not regret the judgement, but he is already in the state of mind needed to judge you, Caesurae, and has already decided what he wants}
DH: {Imagine if I had decided you judged wrong and followed you around with the knife trying to get you to kill me}
CC: ...He glanced up slightly more quickly, fins lowering visibly, when Arlequin mentioned Psii had already decided. There was visible concern. The fins shifted slightly as Arlequin went on.
CC: ".. He has not mentioned any judgement. Does he fear I wvould ... ?"
DH: "..Caesurae I am speaking of deciding that he wishes nothing."
DH: "There is coming a point where insisting on punishment is being more for you, than for him."
CC: His fins pinned. "... If he says he wvants nothing, he can havwe it, but he Does Not. He has the right, and alwvays wvill, wvhether he takes it or not -- and that doesn't mean he /has/ to, he just /can/."
CC: "I'm not -- I'm not trying to tell him he has to ..."
DH: "..It sounds as if you are"
CC: He made a face, reding his cheek on Arlequin irritably, sandwich held out of the way.
CC: "I don't ask him about it, I don't tell him unecessarily, it's just there."
DH: "You dont gotta use words to be doing the thing, Cae." he took a sip of his beer.
CC: Low, irritable grunt.
CC: "..Havwe you talked of this often?" he grumbled softly.
DH: "What lettin people pick their own judgement? I mighta done some sermons on it."
CC: He chuffed in annoyance. "WVith /Mituna/."
DH: "Oh! Nah, just him tellin me for my own misdeeds toward him. An knowin his younger self." Sip
CC: Caesurae glanced away grumpily, not entirely convinced.
DH: "You think I'm in any position to be gettin personal conversations bout how he feels about other people?' He smiled at the ceiling. "..Though he did tell me I aint fucked up so bad we caint be friends, which I'm real happy about"
CC: Caesurae leaned against Arlequin, and vaguely felt like crawling into a hole, the advice only making him less certain of how to approach the mess. He'd...thought he knew. Kind of. Now there was some entirely new thing to be self conscious about though.
CC: "...I am glad for you," he said softly.
DH: "thanks, gonna take some work but maybe I aint so big a fuck up." he hummed. "hear you n him're already friends."
CC: The softest, most dubious little grunt.
DH: "..its prolly gonna be okay unless you're as stupid as me an I ain think thats possible."
CC: ".. Howv'd I start that fight again?"
DH: "still aint trickin people into attackin you then ritually sacraficin them an eatin them." he mused. "prolly fine."
CC: After a moment, his lip twitched despite himself.
CC: ..slow, soft, incredulous laughter, followed by a facepalm over the visible half of his face.
CC: "..I lovwe you. WVhy is he this tolerant?"
DH: He grinned when he got a laugh. Good. "love you too- donno, I blame Kankri."
CC: "Somehowv. ...Fuck, chief."
CC: "..Thank you." He will never top Arlequin. Arlequin is the biggest. At everything.
DH: He kissed the top of his head. "Perspective is important."
CC: "It.. ...I guess so."
DH: "The beer's nice, your memory's good."
CC: He wasn't sure why he was blushing, but he buried his face again, snuggling in. "..For some things."
DH: Apparently it was time to squeeze hug the big sea dweller. "..glad you're okay an things aint terrible”
CC: "...aye," he agreed after a moment. "..They're not." He was quiet a moment before cuddling again.
DH: "Its nice to be having you over." he murmured to him.
CC: "..should stop by more often."
DH: A quiet dubious noise. "Don wanna startle the preacher."
CC: "..wvell, /I/ should stop by /here/ more often."
DH: "..ah yeah, you know I hear some parts of a sentence oughta be included when you say shit"
CC: "...Sorry, chief. I think wvords aren't my bag this wveek."
CC: "I'll wvork on it."
DH: "..it aint bother you to be around allt he little brothers and sisters?" he murmured.
CC: "..It...depends. But I'm getting there."
DH: "I'm glad. All these lil clowns is sweet as anything most the time when they aint bitin each other cause they bored."
CC: "..WVhat wvill be done about their boredom?" Aside from.. diplomatic talks so they could go outside more.
DH: "work, plenty of work with the sheep an the chickens and the cookin and cleanin and buildin on more parts to the church and makin leather things and paintin shit and carvin horns and bones and their learnin of course they gotta spend somma the night in learnins.."
CC: He nodded slightly, tracing a shape on the clown's chst. After a few moments, he started to turn, so he could resume nibbling at his sandwich.
CC: He realised on some level that the part of him that had been dead and more than a little crazy would be horrified by his current position cuddled into Arlequin. ..there was this tiny whiff of Kurloz, though ...
CC: "...of most of a sweep of solid friendship...
CC: ".. I'll growv used to them in time. They growv slowvly enough."
DH: "Seems so fast to me, some nights" he murmured.
CC: "You look forwvard to seeing wvho they wvill become."
DH: "So much, its excitin, I'm.. tryin not to get more attached to the purples than the other shades cause it aint fair but.."
CC: "..they'll last longer. ...Aye, best to be fair, but I understand."
DH: He made a soft disgruntled sound. "..I've had many loves, lesser and greater amoung the warm hues."
CC: "Evwen the briefest of trolls can movwe mountains."
DH: "An the cooler of us may die from somethin long before a warm blooded troll does.."
CC: "And fuck knowvs if in a realm of magic and technology wvith so many wvarm in powver, if they'll finally be able to fix the longevwity problem."
CC: "..Livwe in the moment, it's a brand newv wvorld."
DH: "..I plan to, although I aint good at not plannin and working toward a future neither." he gestured around them with his bottle. "suppose I coulda stayed in the castle and loafed a while longer."
CC: "I wvonder howv that wvould havwe changed things.."
DH: "coulda ended with people bein more familiar and relaxed with me ..coulda ended in kankri havin a melt down and my ass gettin killed before they figured out why he was bleedin.."
CC: He softly papped a clowntit, chuffing. "..wvhich I wvouldn't havwe allowved."
DH: "..And if it were Mituna who did it?"
CC: A momentary pause, before gamely trying to resume. "..I wvould relate the issue to his descendant, gather Kankri's aid in turning Mituna after Kankri inevwitably forgivwing any slight against his person, and set the situation to rights."
DH: He grunted. "You mean ressurect me"
CC: He hesitated, then rested his cheek against Arlequin, shoulders falling.
CC: "..Nevwer wvithout your permission."
CC: "Any wvho harmed you /that much/ wvould havwe Problems of their owvn, soon enough."
DH: He set his bottle down and stroked his hand gently down Caesurae's back. "I got a lot to live for, right now, but the carneval's been callin me a long time."
CC: It was not hard to see a circumstance where his friend who had enjoyed death and his friend who was waiting for death could leave him as one of the last highbloods, for a moment. Caesurae hesitated, then settled slowly. "..I knowv," he answered. "..In due time."
DH: {In time, not now- call me back, if I go before the church can stand on its own.} He murmured.
CC: "...Aye," he answered softly, resting his cheek against the chest of the troll he'd really, really, really, really wanted to murder at a point not too many sweeps in the past.
DH: He brought his hand up from his back and rested it against the back of his head, breathing out a slow soft sigh.
CC: "..I think I'm a bit..scattered, tonight," he said softly.
DH: "You was attacked by an angry psionic then set upon by every motherfucker in the world an hadda defend him without even gettin to take time for recoverin." He noted.
CC: "...I awvoke to the middle of a convwersation wvith him, and Kankri wvanted to talk about ..something.. right after," he noted softly.
DH: He stroked his fingers at maddeningly short hair lightly. "you wanna drink and rest an talk bout pretty girls?"
CC: Much softer, and after a few beats, "..I wvouldn't mind."
DH: "..but what is it being that you would like?" he asked in a soft rumble.
CC: His expression creased slightly, and he managed a weak smile. "..I should probably actually start my drink." He headrattled slightly, trying to draw his composure back up around himself. "I wvould lovwe to rest, chief."
DH: "lets do that then, no more talk of terrible things, tell me about Mindfang's breasts." he patted at him.
CC: A soft snort. "..you'vwe seen them more recently than me. ... .. sorry, for still being on edge."
DH: "I know but you can get damned poetic about them." He chuckled. "..nah, shh, we gon make this fun an get you relaxed."
CC: His cheeks colored, but he eased slightly. "I apparently get poetic about a number of the finer things in life."
DH: "You wanna smoke? I'll share." He asked.
CC: "..Sure, chief. You're a wvonder."
DH: "spreadin miracles all around" He dug out his little tin and his pipe, lets give this poor troll some relax time.
CC: Caesurae settled a bit, cuddled with a giant troll, and tried not to be anxious about attack or self-conscious about his ability to assess social situations safely. He would eat his sandwich, drink his drink, and enjoy quietly smoking with someone who was on a different place in his personal safety radar than most of the rest of his clade. Not better, not worse, just different.
DH: ((sounds like a wrap))
CC: (( sounds like it -- I can post it with the tumblr IM thing on the front ))
DH: ((sounds good to me :D ))
#ooc eyes only#devotedharlequin#hon ment : The entire thing with#palteringCecutiency#In Which Cae Continues To Be Uneasy A Bit
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Red Streak: Growing Pains
I’m not sure where this scene will even wind up in the final narrative, but I suddenly, desperately wanted to share this. Why? I don’t have the slightest idea. Lack of emotional regulation, probably. *shrugs*
Other explanations:
it’s been burning a hole in both my hard-drive and my soul
to reassure you the story is far from abandoned, even if I’m currently obsessing over Mordin?
to reassure myself that this crazy AU plot and its associated characters have value?
to give you an update even though there’s been no chapter this month???
This was one of the inception moments for the fic - it’ll probably never end up in the story at all, maybe it just matters as a jumping-off point for me? Mysteries.
I wrote this the first week I conceptualized Red Streak, way back in my other life, before I sold my soul to this fandom. I don’t think it’s the first thing I wrote for it, but if it isn’t, it’s very, very close. (ETA: please keep that in mind, because the writing in this drabble is ahaaaa... rough. Happy to say I’ve improved much since then)
Minor spoilers (regarding Hannah, also Jane’s BFF) but nothing that hasn’t been hinted at very obliquely already.
3,100 words, approximately, and enough emotion that I abandoned my entire life to write this goddamn epic piece of space trash after this... *mumbling intensifies*
Albacus
Mindoir Colony
April 4, 2169 AD - 0230 hours
Albacus heard the tell-tale bumping and heaving of a poorly inebriated body as it fumbled blindly through the access vents above the warehouse, and he sighed quietly through his mandibles. Jane was even later getting back than he had anticipated, and he had come to expect a certain level of tardiness from her in recent weeks.
The sloppy noise of her scuffling in the ceiling was sure sign that her system was full of some addlebrained teenager poison.
After the mid-season harvest festival last month, he had caught Jane and a half-dozen barely respectable farmer children trying to abscond with some of his storage barrels in the middle of the night. Later, Jane confessed that they had hoped to establish a crude distillery in the office of the old abandoned copper mine. Spirits only knew what they’d been plotting to brew using last year’s corn and rice, but Albacus had hoped that bringing down the underage speakeasy and scaring most of them half out of their minds in the process would have put an end to it. No such luck, apparently.
In the shadowy darkness of the warehouse’s back corner, a ceiling panel wiggled tentatively before swinging open with a steely clap. He could hear his daughter feebly trying to shush the rusty old hinge as it swung free and echoed through the room, but her efforts were in vain. One of her feet poked out, a scuffed high heel dangling precariously from her toe. The impractical footwear gave a few warning tugs before slipping off completely, bouncing down across a stack of boxes and finally meeting the floor with an embarrassing plastic splat.
Really, he would be fully justified to confine her to quarters just for the embarrassing sloppiness of this attempt at covert infiltration.
Her other leg emerged from the access panel and fished for unsteady purchase, then Jane slid out of the vent completely, clinging like an overgrown pyjak to a shelf stocked with decades-old transport batteries and power converters.
Jane had been climbing through storerooms since her mother’s time and had never quite kicked the habit, though she was getting much too tall for it now. The too-short, too-tight, too-little-of-everything dress she was wearing only complicated her descent. In all his life, he had never seen her dressed like this, had never guessed her capable of such obvious, deliberate underage promiscuity.
Had he finally let himself fall victim to the short-sighted idealism of a parent?
No, he decided. This wasn’t his Jane; all of this was recent, and hopefully impermanent.
He forced himself to wait until both of her feet were securely on solid ground before spooking her. She tiptoed over to her fallen shoe, and just as she was bending over to retrieve it, he finally growled, loud enough that she squealed in panic and let fly the only weapon at her disposal.
He caught the shoe an instant before it struck him square between the eyes, forced to admit that her aim was true, even in the state she was in.
“Pari!? Holy shitballs!”
Albacus let the curse go unremarked upon, though he filed it away for later. Plenty of time for that, once the first few rounds of discipline had softened her resolve. He turned her cheap plastic shoe over in his hand and saw that a clearance sticker had been clumsily ripped from the sole. The glossy material was muddy all over, and littered with telling green smudges. A cheap, recent acquisition then, and not a treasured one. Good.
“How was the glider maintenance? I trust Mr. Cortez is coming along well with his project?”
He asked the question knowing it would force her into some lie or other. The real question was how long she would take to crack.
“Yeah, the glider. It was… cool. We decided to paint it black.”
A likely enough story, given that Jane and her friend had been working on that glider together for the better part of the season, but that had not been the only thing his girl had done that night. Not in that outfit.
The Cortez family’s youngest boy was a good kid, one of the few on the colony. He had been a reliable assistant around the spaceport, a natural at taking stock orders and processing the dense inventory. Plus, he was a far better student than Jane - she would have flunked out of introductory calculus if he hadn’t come to her rescue. Yes, Cortez would have made an infinitely preferable match for her poorly-conceived attempts at sexual deviance. Unfortunately for Albacus’ peace of mind, Cortez was hardly the type to chase after girls.
Why did Jane have to reduce herself to the dregs instead - the unworthy bullies who sat glowering at her from the shadows?
Because she was a teenager, he reminded himself patronizingly. A lonely one. Thanks to you.
When she failed to elaborate, Albacus prompted her unkindly to continue.
“After you left Mr. Cortez? What happened then?”
This was unfamiliar territory. Though he was perfectly comfortable disciplining Jane when necessary, his trusted methods had yet to amputate the rebellious streak that had recently started festering in her.
In the past, even when she had acted foolishly, or made the sorts of poor choices that children often did, it was rare that she failed to see the error of her ways, and even rarer for her to continue on a bad path once she knew it was wrong. Whether it was a dangerous weapon misfire or a poorly handled customer, she had always been contrite before, eager for forgiveness, ready to try harder.
He could scarcely bear to watch her slip into angry, libidinous behavior now. Not out of boredom. Not out of loneliness. She was so much worthier than that.
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she said with barely contained snottiness. “I’m fifteen next week. Once I’m the age of majority, I’ll only have to answer to myself.”
Ah. With her fifteenth birthday looming, he had long suspected they might be forced into an awkward conversation about turian coming-of-age rituals - and the fact that most of them were meaningless in the face of his exile. It did not please him to have to begin tiptoeing over that delicate minefield early.
“The age of majority? I see. Maybe next week you will wake up a full-grown tarin. At this moment, you remain fourteen years old, and still a human being.”
She opened her mouth to complain, but he silenced her - holding up her ugly little shoe, stiletto drawn like a threatening finger. He pointed to a crate (one half gross order of flame-retardant hull sheeting) and waited silently until she submitted. She was quite a sight: hobbling peg-legged to the crate on one clicking heel, finally plopping down with a tiny, rebellious hiss.
Whomever she had been tousling with had left her hair all lopsided, and her dress was riding up over a pair of ripped stockings. The idea she may have been intoxicated or somehow unwilling during those fumblings made his every parental instinct flair into a blood-rage of protectiveness. She was still woozy with the unknown drug, her sentences streaming together and her movements uncoordinated.
“Are you injured in any way?”
She shook her head, but didn’t look entirely sure of herself either.
“Did you give your consent and use appropriate protection?”
“No.”
When he shot her a look so forceful that it could have decapitated a regenerating krogan battlemaster, she shifted uncomfortably and then corrected herself.
“I mean, I didn’t need to. I - I left.”
“Jane, putting yourself willingly into that kind of situation… this is unacceptable behavior.”
“I’m old enough to be with anyone I want!”
“You are coming into your own, Jane. I won’t... disrespect you any further by pretending as though you are not.”
As if he were testing a whip, he slapped the heel of her shoe against his open palm before continuing. He appreciated the guilty height of her flinch.
“It may surprise my fool child to learn this, but I understand the complications inherent in puberty - in fact, I understand them a far sight better than you do. I am not afraid of you exploring the urges that come naturally to young people - or at least I was not, until you started behaving like my own personal morumplacus. All I ask is that you stop lying to me, and stop associating with lowlifes who have no respect for you.”
“They’re not lowlifes! They’re my friends!”
“If that is true, then why have I yet to meet a single one of them?”
Jane refused to answer, but the red glow that bloomed across her face said more than enough.
“As I thought. Why waste your time with anyone who takes advantage or makes you feel ashamed?”
“Maybe I should be ashamed! I’m a total freak!”
He held fast, her shoe squeaking under the renewed pressure of his grip. He would lose the last scrap of authority he wielded, if he let her see how deeply those words had cut.
Jane wasn’t finished with her self-hating tirade, not by a long shot.
“What the hell am I, anyway? I don’t belong here.”
“What you are is my fool child. But you have one thing right: you do not belong here at all. At the moment, you belong in your bed. Asleep.”
“Your child? I’m not yours at all! How could I be? When I was a kid, I thought it didn’t matter, as long as we loved each other. Hell, you act like it’s no big deal, but that’s not how the galaxy works, is it?!”
She had never armed such a tone against him in her life.
“Jane-”
“NO! I’m not stupid! Ever since I was little, I thought I could be just like you. I thought maybe if I worked hard enough and showed I was good enough I could go to the Military Academy on Palaven and fix everything. I could take back your honor, or win a great battle in your name, or found a colony for you or something crazy like that, and the whole war would be forgiven and we’d be family for real.”
His heart stopped. She had always shown an interest in turian language, tactics, martial forms, whatever he taught her. Still, he had never once allowed himself to slip into the sentimental dream that Jane might want an official position in his family. The realization that she did left him so raw that his response was far more brutalizing than it had any right to be.
“Impossible. You would have no place.”
“I know! I’m not a stupid kid anymore. I’m just some human orphan, I can never be your heir, or your real mahir - or - whatever. I can’t even wear your familia notas.”
“Listen to me, that is not -”
“SHUT UP! I can’t stand it anymore! I know I’ll never be good enough! I don’t know why you even waste your time with a stupid human freak like me!”
She balled her hands against the sides of her head and squeezed her eyes shut as if willing him to vanish into a black hole. He lacked the fortitude to be angry; her self-rejection left him too wounded, shamed him to the core.
“So… if I couldn’t be a turian, then I thought maybe I should join the Alliance, and be a some tough-ass Marine like Mom was. Steve is the only other person on this worthless colony who wants to join up, and for a while it seemed like it might be an okay plan, as long as we stuck together. But what if they take him and not me? What if I don’t act human enough - or they say I’m the kid of a traitor?”
The stream of self-annihilation droned on with increasingly meaningless angst.
“It’s like I don’t have any parents at all - Everyone here hates me - I don’t belong anywhere - What good am I - Why was I even born?”
Her arms fell from the sides of her head and fisted in the hem of her skirt. The material there had started to fray, and she picked stubbornly at the threads.
“So… then… I figured Ripper has a cousin in the Blue Suns, and he acted like it was cool that I knew all this turian warrior stuff. The mercs don’t care - they’ll take anybody. He said if I was a merc, it wouldn’t matter if I thought I was a turian, or a batarian, or even a wild varren, as long as I could kick ass and blow things up. Nobody would care that I was a worthless bastard, or that my mom was just some alien-loving whore-”
“JANE!”
His voice ripped through the storeroom like a concussive grenade, the anger and shock of it was so explosive that he was sure there would be shrapnel embedded in the walls come morning. Jane stiffened for a brief moment, and then she quailed in deep crimson shame.
He barked: “Never repeat such hideous filth about your mother. Or yourself. Ever. Do you honestly believe a single word of that to be true?”
Too stricken to make a sound, she just sank further into the crate and shook her head. After a long fight with herself, her shoulders heaved and she pathetically began to cry.
In the face of her infantile trembling, he relaxed by degrees, then finally gathered up his wits and went to comfort her. He tossed aside her garbage-pile shoe and pulled up another crate (twelve dozen boxes of expired thermal clips ready for recycling.)
Gently mustering the last exhausted, patronizing supply of fatherliness he had, he surrounded one of her small shaking hands with both of his own.
“Jane, enough of this. Master yourself. Never allow jealous, bloodthirsty vermin to make you feel ashamed to be Hannah Shepard’s daughter. Or mine.”
In a tiny voice, she mumbled: “I never should have listened to Ripper anyway. He’s not even that good of a shot.”
He laughed bitterly, without mercy.
“As for him, if you honestly believe you can run off to join the Blue Suns without my catching up with you, then by all means, get on the next shuttle to Omega.
“Just remember: if you ever discharge a weapon without carefully considering the honor behind each bullet, I will personally break every one of your fingers and make sure you can never hold a gun again.”
He raised her hand to his mouth and gave it a human-like kiss, emulating the ridiculous princes in the vids she had watched over and over again as a child. A prince who wouldn’t hesitate to break every bone in her body if she chose to behave like a thug.
“I hate the gangs,” she spat drunkenly, voice full of simple rage, her earlier rebellion instantly forgotten.
Jane had always been transparently pure-hearted. No simple boy with a merc cousin was ever going to change that.
“Mercs are sloppy idiots with no ideals, and you are not that.”
She nodded and swallowed thickly with guilt. Thank the spirits, he finally had his girl back.
“If you keep your head down until your birthday and convince me that you’re ready to start being responsible again, we’ll commence advanced bellixiatum. I can teach you anything you want to know about being a fearsome and honorable combatant, but only if you forget about these predatory wannabes and start acting like my mahir again.”
“Pari…” She was whispering so quietly that he almost didn’t hear. “I’m sorry for bringing up the turian stuff. I know I have no right.”
He sighed and squeezed her small, pink hand.
He found himself wondering, and hardly for the first time, just how the two of them had gotten to this place. The last heir of Regidonis, living a life of lonely obscurity on a human farming colony and raising a stubbornly ferocious child so alien that she couldn’t even share his meals.
His life was so perpendicular to the one he had been groomed for since birth that he occasionally felt impaled by the hard, spare destitution of their daily reality. If he dwelled on the things he had lost - the Tenefalx, the Blackwatch, even a future flirtation with Primacy - it could nearly get the better of him. Most haunting of all was the constant, enduring nightmare: finding Hannah alone on the floor, cold and unprotected. Losing her forever, before ever getting the chance to tell her…
Then he would remind himself that despite everything, he was hardly alone. For all that he had dearly paid, he had won something remarkable. He had his diume.
He would remember how it felt to hold a sleeping child in his arms for the first time. Back when she was still a terrified wreck, as they clung together through those early, tragic nights. Humming broken old melodies against her forehead until her nightmares dissolved. When he had first begun to consider her his own.
How could he hate this life, when he thought about the way his daughter’s lopsided smile never quite stretched across her face the same way twice?
“Fool child,” he said, pronouncing the words more meaningfully than usual. “Have I ever told you what diume means?”
Her head shook a silent no.
“Look at me.”
She didn’t budge. He pulled her hand to the dark red marks on his face, encouraging her fingers to follow the ancient familia notas of the Regidonis clan, a once proud symbol that that no longer meant anything at all.
“My joy.”
She finally met his gaze, and the dark wet smear of her eye makeup started to stream down her cheeks.
“Diume, exempting these few weeks of temporary insanity, you have made me proud with your every breath. If I could rearrange the stars and allow you to become a true Regidonis Gloranumis, I would.
“But this…” he jostled her hand as it traced his notas, “Is no longer mine to give. You and I must find something else, something all our own.”
He wiped the tears and filth from her face, then slowly touched his crest against her forehead.
“Never doubt that I love you. I love you as surely and completely as if you were my natural child. I may not be able to give you my place in the Hierarchy, but we can make our own way, somehow.”
“I love you too, Pari.” Her voice was ragged with a dozen unvoiced emotions, and he curled both hands around the back of her head and held onto her like something precious.
Then she burped quietly, the alcohol rancid on her breath.
“You’re confined to quarters for a month.”
“I know…”
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