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tilltheendwilliwrite · 3 years

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Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Five

Master List / Read on AO3

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Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining, much angst, violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

Din watched Baast with growing concern. She'd withdrawn after Nevarro, spending the majority of her time with Grogu or in the sleeping hammock she'd strung between the walls of the Razor Crest. She refused to take his bunk, wouldn't even hear of it. When she slept - which he knew wasn't often as he could hear her prowling quietly around his ship - she did so in fits and starts and bad dreams.

By the time they arrived at the Tribe's new home, he was genuinely worried. He didn't know enough about Zentari biology to be able to say if this was normal or not, but with how worried Grogu seemed, he was going to go with not.

But Din couldn't focus on Baast as he navigated the high winds and icy blizzard of the Tribe's new home. The planet was damn near inhospitable, but that was why they liked it.

This was his first visit since the massacre on Nevarro, and he was both excited to see who remained and dreading it. There had been far too many Foundling helmets in the Armourer's pile. An old outpost carved into the rock served as a place to land ships and keep them from being snowed in. Blast doors slid open, appearing to welcome him home. Mandalorians waved him forward, and he recognized the armour of Paz Vizsla.

"That kriffing bastard would live," he muttered as he maneuvered the Razor Crest around and set it down. The blast doors were already closing, not that those who worked on their ships appeared to care either way.

Descending into the belly of his ship, he found Baast growling at her hair and tsked when he snaked the comb from her fingers. "You're making matters worse," he huffed, quickly separating the tangle. He twisted the mass into a long tail, then wrapped it into a knot at the base of her skull, where he tucked two long sticks he'd picked up in the market on Nevarro. They were made of hardened steel, sharpened to a deadly point, and would make a handy weapon if she ever needed one. She kept her eyes down and didn't look at him when he helped her into her cloak.

While they'd been on Nevarro, he'd been careful to pick out clothing she could layer for cold weather rather than buying winter gear. He had no desire to lead the Tribe's enemies to them again and made damn sure they weren't followed. The one thing he couldn't avoid buying were boots, but Dune came through on that one.

After Baast damn near killed her, they spent a mostly pleasant few hours with Dune while she'd cooed over Grogu and listened intently as Din told of his run-in with the Jedi. They said nothing of Baast's origins and wouldn't. What Cara didn't know couldn't get her killed. Of course, the ex-shock trooper would attempt to kick his ass if he said that out loud, so Din hadn't, remaining silent as Dune fumed for being "out of the loop."

Before he drew up Baast's hood, he lifted her chin with gloved fingers. "Baast, everything will be alright."

She gave him a wane smile, her vibrant eyes too dull for his liking. "As you say, Mando."

He gritted his teeth. That, too, had changed. She no longer called him by his name when they were alone. He was back to Mando. It was the first time in his life that he hated hearing anyone utter that word.

"Baast, we need to talk-" He cut himself off when loud pounding came at the ramp and flipped her hood over her head. "We're not finished," he warned, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her.

She picked Grogu up but said nothing. There was no defiance, no strength, no beskar spine left to her.

He clenched his fists and headed for the ramp, where he punched the release with more exuberance than was needed. It lowered to reveal Paz and another, weapons trained on the doorway.

"Nice greeting," Din grumbled.

"You've too many bodies on your ship."

He held out his hand, and Baast joined him, her hand sliding up his arm to his elbow. "We seek the Alor."

Weapons slowly lowered, but he could tell they remained suspicious.

"This way." Paz turned and headed across the hanger.

Din didn't bother to hurry. Paz would wait because they'd piqued his curiosity. He would remain once they reached the Alor to see just what Din was up to. Suspicion followed them like a red wave as they made their way through the rock corridors. The deeper they went, the warmer the air grew, indicating the Tribe had found lava flow or hot springs heated the base.

It was good, secure. Hopefully, they could remain here for some time.

Paz stopped at an open doorway and indicated inside. "Leave the child with the other Foundlings."

"Nu draar," Baast growled, her stance defensive as she rolled onto the balls of her feet.

"He will be safe and happy with the others," Din encouraged. Looking inside, his heart plummeted. Where once there were thirty or more Foundlings, now fewer than fifteen remained. "Is this all?"

"Sabine has the older ones. They train."

"This is The Way," Din murmured.

"This is The Way," Paz agreed. "Leave the child."

Baast hissed at him, and Din stepped between them before things escalated. Already he could tell Paz wasn't impressed.

"Baast, udesii," he murmured, laying his hands over hers on Grogu. "He will be safe and far happier with the Foundlings. No one will touch him, I swear it."

She held onto him as if her very life resided in the little green menace, and leaving him behind was allowing a part of herself to be torn apart, but with gentle coaxing, he managed to remove Grogu from her hands and set him down to join the others children. Grogu cooed happily and toddled off to play while Din urged Baast onward after Paz.

The giant warrior peered at Baast for a long moment before continuing away from the Foundling Nursery.

Finally, after more twists and turns and stares from other Mandalorians, they arrived at the Foundry where the Alor waited in her golden helmet. She didn't bother to look up as she worked on polishing a pauldron.

"You dare to bring an aruetyc here?"

At any other time, he might have flinched at such a reprimand coming from her, but not this time. "She is not an outsider. She is Baast'mal, last of the Zentari."

The pauldron slipped and clanged against the forge before she caught it and set it carefully aside. "The Zentari are no more."

"She knows The Way," Din insisted. "We completed the greeting."

The Alor turned then to face them as Baast pushed back her hood. The sharp intake of breath Paz took did not escape him.

"I am Baast'mal, daughter of Sengor'du and Lin'talia of Zentarus." She tilted her head. "Great Alor, I greet thee. Holder of the Creed, blessed of the constellations. May you raise warriors strong in the Way and find your riduur. Your cyar'ika. Your ka'rta."

Din had never seen the Armourer show surprise in her body language before. "I greet thee, Zentari of the Bright Star, though it saddens me to learn you are the last. Can you be certain of this?"

"I felt the only other of my kind die three years past," Baast murmured.

The Alor bowed her head. “Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.”

Din knew how she felt. It was like a gut punch without warning to know they'd lost something so damn special.

"Be welcome, Baast'mal. Perhaps among our Tribe, you will find the one you seek."

Baast said nothing, looking away as if in shame, and Din reached for her elbow before remembering they were no longer alone on his ship where he could take such liberties. Now, she would be courted by every able-bodied male of the Tribe to see if they proved worthy to be her riduur.

"Leave us," the Alor commanded.

Din hesitated, but when Baast didn't look at him, he stepped back and walked away.

***

"Shut the door, Vizsla," she commanded as the big one followed Din out.

Used to Din's t-shaped visor, the Alor's eye slits were almost disconcerting, but Baast didn't allow it to show.

"You are of a great lineage, Baast'mal, daughter of Sengor'du. The Tribe will see this as a great omen, a reason to rejoice when we have so little."

"Not so great," Baast sighed. "I cannot be what I was born to be. I am no riduur. My fated mate will never complete the bond."

She tilted her head. "Oh?" Then motioned toward a table next to the forge. "Sit. Tell me your story, Baast'mal."

Baast, knowing her future depended on her honesty, spoke the truth. She told the Alor of her kidnapping as a child, her brutal years as an experiment, and the wretched way the Empire forced bonds with the Sand Cat and Manka. She showed off her Snake Tooth and admitted how broken she felt knowing she would never have the one thing she yearned for.

"I was bred to grow warriors, but I will remain barren," she whispered, unashamed of the tears streaming down her cheeks.

The woman across from her tilted her head, having remained silent through her entire recitation. "They took you from Zentarus too young. There are… things missing from your education, knowledge you have yet to acquire."

"There is?" Baast was surprised and yet not completely. She had been very young when they ripped her from her family.

"There is. I can teach you, but it will take time."

"I am not sure Di- Mando will be alright with a delay. I promised I would help him find a Jedi for Grogu."

If she was surprised Baast knew Din's name, she didn't show it. "Hm, for the child you took as your own. You will find parting with him to be like death. I do not envy you the position you have placed yourself in."

"I know," Baast whispered. "But he may be my only chance at a child."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." She stood and motioned for Baast to follow her to the forge. "For now, you will sleep. Rest, Baast'mal. You are safe here, and I can see you have not been sleeping."

"Not because I felt unsafe," she snapped. "Mando is not to blame."

"Isn't he?"

She stared, but Baast refused to look away. She would give the Alor no reason to doubt Din.

She chuckled and turned to the forge, her hands busy out of Baast's view. "I have long considered Djarin one of our finest warriors. I am pleased to see him living up to his potential."

When she turned back, the mark of the mudhorn was in her hand, dangling from a leather thong. The Alor stepped forward and tied the cord around Baast's neck, settling the shiny bit of beskar against Baast's chest.

"There. Now, none who see you will challenge that you belong. I will have one of the others deposit you in a family suite so you may remain close to your Mandalorian with your child."

"He is not my Mandalorian."

She looked at Baast, and Baast swore she could feel the amusement rolling off the woman. "Isn't he?" she asked before going and opening the door. "Vizsla. Retrieve the child and take her to the home set aside for Djarin."

"Respectfully, no." The one called Paz crossed his arms, radiating defiance. "If she is Zentari, she should not be living with him. She should be available to all to choose."

Baast was too tired and too stressed to deal with his macho bullshit any longer and walked into the corridor with long smooth strides. She let her cloak fall behind her as she stalked the male keeping her from her child.

"And do you think you are worthy?" she asked, soft, cold, and deadly.

"Baast," Din warned.

She could feel him now, more and more; even with the beskar, his emotions were starting to bleed through. Being with him was agony; her soul cried out for his, but being apart would likely be even worse.

"I could be," Vizsla snickered.

Baast smiled to show off her fangs, then kicked him down the corridor. "You do not choose!" she roared. "I choose!"

When she made to stalk after him to teach the too proud Mandalorian a lesson he would not soon forget, she found herself captured against Din.

"He means no disrespect, but he is right. You... you must find your fated mate." The words sounded like they pained him. "You can't stay with me and do that."

Baast felt herself crumble and swayed into him, distraught at causing him such grief.

"She is clan of your clan as the child is the child of her heart. Baast'mal wears your sigil. Until she says otherwise, she will remain Clan Mudhorn. Collect the child, take her to your home, and return to me, Djarin."

The Alor's command was not one they could ignore. Din bowed his head and pulled Baast away, past Paz, who radiated wary respect.

The traversed corridors in reverse until they came to one deserted of others, and Din spun her into the wall. "Are you alright?"

She clung to him, clung and shook as every cell and fibre and atom of her body begged for his until she could hardly bear it. "Your Alor has information for me. My knowledge is incomplete. I must stay until it is no longer this way."

"Then we stay."

The easy acceptance shocked her into searching the t-visor for his unseen eyes. "But, Grogu. The Jedi."

"It can wait."

"Mando," she sighed.

"Din," he growled low, pressing his body closer. "You will use my name with the Tribe and in private, Baast."

She closed her eyes, the pain growing.

"Are you sick? Do you need a healer?"

His concern broke her a little more. "No. I am fine."

"You're not fine!" he snapped. "You're fading! I can see how much something is hurting you, Baast. What is going on?"

She dredged up every ounce of self-preservation she had left to stare him cooly in the visor. "That is not your concern."

He stepped away as if she'd hit him. "Fine. Use my home. I will find somewhere else to sleep."

She watched him walk away, her heart cracking with each step until he turned the corner, and it shattered.

Baast landed hard on her knees, unable to catch her breath, gasping and dry heaving, tears spilling freely down her face. When the hands came, they were gentle, but she would not have cared if they brought pain. Nothing hurt as much as Din walking away.

"I'm Sabine. Allow me to offer aid, Zentari."

Baast could only nod as she allowed the female to help her up and lead her away.

***

He stalked back to the forge with angry strides but a heavy heart. Baast was breaking down, and her continued refusal to let him help would drive him insane.

Paz nodded as he went by and shut the door to the forge as he left.

"So, you have brought us a Zentari. This is well done of you."

He said nothing, knowing she needed no response.

The Armourer held up the pauldron of earlier and discarded it. "But she is soul-sick."

"Soul-sick?" He'd never heard of it before.

"She believes she is damaged. Too long was she with the Empire. Too long has she battled the mind games of the demagolka. They could not break her spirit, so they poisoned her mind. This poison sickens her soul. She needs mirjahaal."

"Demagolka…" Din whispered, horror filling him. The Demagol was the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, a real-life monster and war criminal. He was known for his experiments on children and was hated by all Mandalorians for his perversions. Children were to be cherished, never tortured. "Are you sure?"

She looked at him. "What else would you call one who experiments on children?"

He felt foolish for not seeing it himself and tilted his head in apology.

She hummed and returned to the forge. "You will help her find mirjahaal."

"She doesn't want my help."

"But she needs it. You will do this. I have spoken."

He sighed but made sure the sound didn't leave his helmet and drew the ingot of beskar from his pocket. "For the Foundlings."

The Alor hummed. "This is The Way."

"This is The Way." Din turned and left, knowing a dismissal when he heard one.

He stormed out but only made it as far as the turn to the first hall, where he stopped to sigh and closed his eyes. How could he help Baast find mirjahaal when she didn't want anything to do with him anymore?

How could he help her find healing and peace of mind when he no longer felt it himself?

***

Nu draar - no way/ not on your life

Udesii - calm

Aruetyc - traitor/outsider

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la - not gone, merely marching far away.

Mirjahaal - peace of mind, *healing*, general term for emotional well-being especially after trauma or bereavement.

***

Next Chapter coming soon

#star-crossed:bound by blood #the mandalorian #au #din djarin

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midnight-marimba · 3 years

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Mar’s DQXI Fic OCs

It’s Dragon Quest OC And NPC Week, and I’m going to approach it from the other direction than what’s described in the event proposal, because I rarely end up inventing a detailed character without context, but I often find a specific need for a character in a piece of fanfiction and build them up out of that prompt into something better than a footnote. So I’m going to take the opportunity to talk about some of my fics and the original characters and NPCs who wandered into them and made themselves interesting enough that I’m eager to share a little extra detail or commentary about them. (Under the cut)

Hair Tie That Binds

A comedic story about Hendrik recruiting Erik for a heist to help fix his own mistake. (9k words)

I needed a minor villain, so I invented Lady Druzy (named off of an obscure corner of a gem list, so as to suit a minor Heliodoran noble). She is petty, spiteful, vengeful, and apparently my favorite archetype of OC to write. She is awful and I loved writing her.

After Rain, The Sun Will Shine

A Sylv/Hendrik one-shot involving Hendrik’s memories of Sylv’s mother. (8k words)

When I wrote this, I had not yet heard the detail from the voice drama (please somebody translate the whole thing?? <3) that Sylv's mom's given name was Gerbera and her stage name was Sylvia (that is, exactly the same stage name Sylv took in the Japanese version of the game). I had only heard a broader rumor about the drama and Sylv choosing a stage name in honor of their mother.

So when I went to write a story about her, I looked at a list of Dutch names (to match Arnout and Hendrik — Zwaardsrust is Dutch) and hunted for one a name with a "Syl" sound. I landed on Silke, which is also satisfying from a word association perspective (since it looks like "silk" which sounds highly appropriate for a "famous Zwaardsrustian beauty" — one of the few canon details we get for her).

I tried to make her stubborn and determined, inspiring and willfully optimistic for the sake of the people she had under her leadership. Sylv-like, but with a slightly more intense philosophical flavor than canon Sylv, as she’s walking out of an arguably even greater tragedy (or at least more personal at a larger scale?)

Silk and Swagger

Faris/Reader, from the point of view of a Heliodor guard. (1.7k words)

The guard is nameless and the fic is relatively short, but my goodness it was fun inventing someone who is instantly smitten with Faris and believes the best of him at all times.

When Home Isn't Marked on the Map

A Sylv/Erik longfic set a couple years after the end of the game, in which Erik is coming out of a period of self-imposed isolation after a disastrous attempt at confessing his one-sided romantic feelings for the Luminary, and he begins by going looking for Sylv, the one old companion he dares hope won’t yell at him for his absence. (74k words)

Since the ultimate seed of the idea behind this fic was "Erik would be protective towards orphans and Sylv would like that about him" I needed some kids to put in the story. There are two sets of four that I named and included.

First is the group from the rural area near Puerto Valor, and thus they have Spanish names: Isabella, Serafito, Paz, Ana. I'm pretty sure I named the younger ones with shorter names to help myself keep them straight. In my head, they have a darker complexion than the rest of the kids in the story, since I always wish the DQ world was a little more diverse on that front, but I fear that I forgot to actually write that detail in. (Room for improvement...)

The second group is an expansion of the four child NPCs you can find playing hide-and-seek in downtown Heliodor. I could only find a canon name for Cammo (the King of Hide-and-Seek) so I gave the rest of them stone related names, figuring the pattern from Cobblestone might extend around Heliodor into the poorer and less formal areas of the kingdom (Ruby the innkeeper notwithstanding). So they are Flint, Crystal, and Mica.

There are so many of them that it was tough to give all of them a lot of characterization, but I tried to distinguish each of them at least a little. Isabella, the leader of her group, blunt in a way that reminds Erik of Mia and Veronica. Serafito, a little bit of a self-sacrificing caretaker. Paz, young but outgoing, and Ana, even younger and a little shy. Flint, the canny, cautious, and slightly manipulative leader of the Heliodor gang. Cammo, sneaky and adventurous and clever. Crystal, strong and brave and protective. Mica unfortunately ended up being most notable for the ordeals he goes through.

My favorite among them ended up being Crystal, from the instant she decided she was after Hendrik's job.

Diamond

A Sylv/Serena and Sylv/Dave fic, from Serena’s point of view. Set after Act 3 as Serena chooses a mission to research and perform healing around the world, travels alongside Sylv’s new circus troupe, and they both get to pursue some missing character development. (118k words, technically 1 chapter short of an intended ending but may not be continued.)

Mind the tags and content advisory if you go into the fic itself, because (1) for reasons of 2020, a story about a doctor-hero was simply not an ideal story to begin in the year 2019, and (2) it is NOT a utopian style world — many characters have prejudices, others are closeted in some major ways, and not all of that is gone by the end of the story. I 100% understand many folks not wanting to go roll around in that kind of fiction, and while there’s a discussion about Representation I could shoehorn in here, I’m going to set it aside for the sake of on-topic rambling about fun OC development.

For this fic, I wanted Sylv and Serena to be traveling the world together. Serena was to be motivated in part by the allure of getting to meet more new people, and also, I think it’s useful for her personal growth to spend a little time away from her blood family and most of the people from whom she would naturally take direction. I also wanted to explore Sylv as a leader in a way that’s not so easy within the canon party, and in general, I imagine Sylv both being friendly to every stranger and also having old friends pop up everywhere he goes.

Between the two of them, I ended up needing to plop in OC's left and right, both for Sylv’s new Act 3 circus troupe, and in every town they visited. Because I’m a nerd, I expanded lore for some of the regions too, and I will mention some of those details here with the characters.

Sylv’s troupe:

Chill, a contortionist from Sniflheim, where people get kind of uncomfy about magic, especially when it looks too close to evil witchery. Like, say, Zing.

Samir, a short, round bard from Gallopolis who can do amazing things with a variety of instruments, and his partner Grey, once a guard from Heliodor until he decided that job was even more bland than his name, and he ran off to Gallopolis to join the circus.

Maria and Mateo, a couple of quiet, short and slender dancers from Puerto Valor (in my head, Mateo is about 5 feet and Maria’s a couple inches shorter, though I keep gravitating away from talking in Modern Earth units of measurement when writing for this fandom). Their kids, teenaged Leo and toddler Lena, aren’t (yet) performers, but are present because I thought it was interesting to plug some kids into a story about a traveling circus troupe, and because I wanted to give Sylv an excuse to interact with kids.

Francine. A classically beautiful acrobat from Octagonia, where the only work she could find was being a bunny girl handing out flyers. She’s had a crush on Sylv, which didn’t work out, and in the aftermath she’s a little bitter and is predisposed to dislike anyone else getting too close to Sylv. She is rude and spiteful when she does not like someone (though she may do so in an overly-sweet tone), and she awkwardly overcompensates when she wants to prove she’s moved on from something, and she ended up being my favorite OC here.

Some other notable OCs in the world:

In Sniflheim: Healer Heather, the doctor who would really rather not have any magic in her house, so she doesn’t get a mob coming after her next time the tide of public opinion turns against witches.

In Lonalulu: Nohea, the charming and handsome hula dancer who isn’t quite as nice as he seems, and Pika, the shy, plain, and clumsy but kind-hearted net weaver. Both are there as potential love interests for Serena (and for contrast against Sylv, of course).

In the Inner Sea: Coral the mermaid, a singer. She's here for advancing Serena's character development, but it was fun to have other OCs react to a mermaid, and trying to write plot-advancing mermaid dialogue raised my respect for the localization team 1000%.

In Gallopolis: Doctor Zel, who is very scientific and good at her job, never makes eye contact, and lacks a comforting bedside presence. (Happily they have Faris to help with public relations during a health crisis…?)

This is only about half of the OCs and NPCs named in the story, but they’re most of the ones with the most screen time, and most of the ones that stand out in my mind. But the outgoing and friendly Sylv and Serena I was trying to write, both of whom wanted to engage with the people of the world at large, just spawned new characters around them as they went. You know those stories about mythical people where flowers bloom after them everywhere they go? This pair was like that, only with OC’s instead of flowers.

#dqxi oc npc week #dqxi #dqxi fanfiction #dq11 fanfiction #my writing #these stories are old but if you comment I will still love you forever

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lostbutterflyutau · 4 years

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Soothing the Storm

Note: Originally written for weekly challenge prompt “storm” on the Fandom of Avalor. Now, I know I actually missed that deadline, but considering it is a ship fic, I feel it fits both that prompt and “Love” as well.

I’d also like to take time to thank @ograndebatata for suggestions throughout and taking time, as always, to beta for me.

***

“What do you think, Cleo? Will Audrina choose Marcelo or Nathaniel?” Carla asked as she turned a page in the book she was reading, gave a quick glance to the stuffed cat tucked in her left arm. “I mean, sure. Marcelo has that typical ‘suave prince’ thing going on, but Nathaniel is the one who’s sending those letters. I just know it!”

Of course, Cleo didn’t respond. The soft, innocent expression on her face stayed the same as it always had, but Carla still laughed to herself. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer, but she still liked talking to Cleo from time to time. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain ‘why’ if asked, but she still did it. She wondered for a moment if it was a sign that she’d become too attached to her or some lingering echo of the past loneliness she had felt as a child and then shook off the idea. She didn’t need to justify it. Point was, she just liked talking to her sometimes, usually when trying to work out complicated homework or, as she was doing now, the plot of her latest romance novel.

Carla looked at her companion again, sighed as she leaned further back into her pillow, “But first she needs to do something about that aunt of hers.” She frowned at the thought, turned focus back to the book. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she should be studying for her upcoming potions exam but was quick to shrug that off as well. She deserved a little break. Especially with how hard she’d already been working in regard to that exam. Besides, she just had to know how this chapter ended.

She turned another page, a silly grin returning at the letter in the following scene and how, after reading it, Audrina decided to meet the sender at the ball as requested. It was the oldest, most cliché plot device ever, but Carla found herself hooked on every word. There were many reasons she hid her love of these books from pretty much everyone, the stupidly cliché plotlines being one of them. While she knew they weren’t meant to be taken seriously, she was also aware of how other people viewed such novels and the stereotype of people who indulged in them and wasn’t interested in being one of them.

‘Please, don’t let this be another one of those misunderstandings that sends her after the wrong man,’ Carla thought to herself as she read on. Despite having promised herself that she would stop at the next chapter, she kept going, told herself she’d get up after finishing this one. This was the masquerade ball. The typical turning point for such stories. Whoever Audrina’s love was, they would finally get to talk face to face and – hopefully – share their first, honest kiss without any more disguises. And, given the rating of the book, she guessed that the kissing would be followed by another way of conveying their feelings. One that was more intense than kissing, but from what she knew of the author, just as loving.

She gave first a dreamy sigh and then a soft giggle at the thought before continuing on through that chapter and then part of the next one, forgetting what she’d promised herself. She just had to see that kiss, which seemed like it was finally going to happen when, after navigating a room full of curious people, Audrina finally made her way to the garden in hopes that her mystery man would be there just as the letter said. And then she saw him with his back turned to her, mask in hand. Her heart racing, she opened her mouth to speak and…

“Ah!” Carla startled out of the story, her book flying up when she jumped at the loud crack of thunder that sounded outside.

‘What the – ?’ She turned to look at the double-doors that led to her balcony, raised an eyebrow at the sound of the rain pattering against the glass. It had been raining on and off most of the day, but now seemed more intense than before. She frowned, turned, and slid off the bed, shivering a little when her bare feet hit the cold ground. She then took in a breath when she reached the doors and grabbed one of the violet drapes, hoping that there wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises as she gently peeled it back, eyes widening when she saw how dark the sky had gotten. She quickly glanced at the clock, thinking that maybe it was simply later than she thought. Of course, it wasn’t. Dinner had only ended two hours ago, and while it was past sunset, she had to concede to the fact that this wasn’t ordinary darkness. It was storm darkness.

Her frown deepened at the very word. Storm.

Carla slunk behind the curtain, one hand holding tight to the fabric as her eyes scanned the sky. On a logical level she knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. Not while she was safe and protected in the palace. Yet, she couldn’t help the dread that came along each time those type of clouds rolled in. Part of her hated it. Hated herself for still holding to such a silly childhood fear. The other jumped again when a flash of lightning broke through, a startled squeal leaving her lips as she stumbled backward, her foot getting caught in an upturned corner of the rug.

“Ow,” She muttered, rubbed the sore spot on her backside and took a moment to gather herself before she sighed and moved to stand back up. Despite her better judgement, she stepped towards the window again and gave the sky another hesitant glance, shivering at both the clouds and the rumbling she heard in the distance.

***

Meanwhile, upon hearing that same rumble, Gabe briefly looked up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing slightly. He had expected a storm given the day’s weather but had thought it would be a light one. He set the finished report on top of the others, tried to shake off the rising uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t that he had a problem with heavy storms, it was that Carla did and he hated how much they stressed her out. Not that it was her fault. It was just… there was only so much comfort he could offer during such times. Especially when he wasn’t even near her.

‘It’s still more than what you can offer by staying here,’ A voice pointed out from the back of his mind.

Gabe’s eyes narrowed another fraction. Yes. He could do more if he were with her at the moment, and he did want to be there comforting her to the best of his ability, but he also had things to do still. He had to get through this stack. It was already two days late and if he pushed it off any longer, more would just pile up on top of it. Besides, it wasn’t like she was completely alone. She had plenty of other people she could turn to if she really needed it. Elena even resided in the same hallway. If she really needed company, she could go to her. Or even come down to his office if it was him she needed. He wouldn’t turn her away, not on a night like this.

Though reluctant to do so, he turned back to his paperwork, tried to push the thought out of his mind as he picked up the next report. Unfortunately, changing focus didn’t do much. Thoughts of Carla and how she was coping remained in the back of his mind.

‘Stop it,’ He told himself. ‘She’s fine.’

He paused for a moment and took in a slow breath to recentre himself, turned the page over. He shifted his thoughts back to his work, determined to keep focus as he read over the page before him, making notes when needed.

Before he knew it, he had gotten through that report, and then another, a mix of pride and relief seeping through him as he closed it, glad to see that, for the most part, the guard was doing well. Of course, there were a few things to address. There always were. New recruit Arias looked like he needed a good dose of humility similar to the one Gabe himself had gotten in his early days. Then there were Rojas and Paz, who were butting heads often enough that he was considering separating them into different units. But those were both relatively minor infractions. Overall, he was proud to have maintained consistently good results since being appointed Captain.

A small smile breaking through at the thought, Gabe set the finished report on top of the designated pile and grabbed the next unread one, hoping that it would continue the trend of good news. The moment he opened it, however, a deafening thunderclap suddenly crashed into his ears, the impact making him flinch violently enough that he dropped the report.

He sat up, turned toward the window just in time to see two separate flashes of lightning cross the sky. His mind immediately turned back to Carla, the last storm they’d weathered together and how she’d showed up at his bedroom door in the middle of the night. While she tried her best to stay composed, when he opened the door, a violent rumble had her jumping into his arms. She ended up staying for the rest of that night, curled up close and clinging to him as he gently rubbed her back and soothed her through the howling winds and booming thunder until she finally fell back asleep, hand still intertwined with his.

As cheesy as it sounded, Gabe liked being that comforting presence for her. Sure, she could go to someone else, but it wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t know what was wrong or how to help. By her own admission, only he and Victor knew about her fear. She was too ashamed to tell anyone else because of how silly she felt it was and how she – Carla Delgado – Princess of Harmony, Royal Event Coordinator and Malvaga in training – could be brought down by some rain and thunder.

His frown returned at the thought just as another streak of light flashed across the sky. It was then that he set down his pen, decided that the reports could wait. It didn’t matter if more piled up later. What mattered now was Carla and how lonely she probably was at the moment. She hated feeling alone. Years of having no one to rely on but her father had been responsible for that. Not that he blamed anyone. It was simply the nature of her lifestyle. But simply understanding why she felt that way didn’t make him feel for her any less. And knowing both about her dislike of being alone and her fear of storms, he couldn’t help but be worried. He had to make sure she was alright.

***

“Carla?” Gabe called, gently rapping on her bedroom door once he arrived and giving a quiet sigh when she didn’t answer. He didn’t know why he expected her to. She was probably hiding. Even he had been startled by how booming the thunder was as he made his way through the halls. He tried knocking again, called her name a second time and put his ear to the door, listening for any sign of movement.

He waited another few seconds before pushing down the handle, announcing as he opened the door, “I’m coming in.”

Once inside, his eyes quickly scanned the room, seeing nothing out of place until they fell over the bed. While he didn’t actually see Carla, he did see a lump of purple that told him she was there curled up underneath her blanket. He smiled at the sight. Not because she was scared, but because of how cute she looked in acting as if she could use her blanket for protection from the storm.

“Carla,” He said, this time in a softer tone as he crossed the room to the bed, set a gentle hand on her back.

‘Gabe?’ Carla thought, though she didn’t respond out loud, only clutched Cleo tighter. While part of her was happy to have his company, she also wondered why he was there. She hadn’t expected to see him at all, especially after he turned down her offer for a parlour date earlier, saying that he’d be busy catching up on reports all evening. They’d both already had dinner, so what else could…

‘Oh no…’ She stopped, silently groaned when she realised what it was. Of course the weather had tipped him off. He was the only other person besides her father that knew about the storm thing. She wanted to be grateful that he cared so much, but instead she was annoyed. How would she ever learn how to handle herself if he kept swooping in to rescue her? If she wanted him there, she would have either sent for him or taken the trip down to the barracks herself, just as she’d done before.

She then realised that, in all the times she’d done so, Gabe never turned her away and never judged her for the reason, whether it be a thunderstorm, nightmare or stomach-ache. Instead, he let her in and did his best to make her feel comfortable regardless of the ailment. Which is exactly what he wanted to do now. Except that instead of her coming to him, he found her first.

She sighed to herself, the guilt briefly making her forget the raging storm outside until a fierce thunderclap broke her thoughts. She whimpered, curled into herself even more.

“Come on, Carla,” Gabe coaxed as he carefully rubbed her back. “You can’t stay under there all night.”

“Why not?” She replied. It was safe there. She was warm and cozy and had a friend with her. Sure, she could still hear the thunder and the constant pattering of the rain against the windows, but at least she couldn’t see it or the lightning.

He smiled as an idea came to mind, teased, “Because if you do, I won’t get to see your pretty eyes.”

“You look at them all the time.”

“Doesn’t mean I get tired of it.”

Unable to help it, she quietly giggled at his teasing, figured that, at the very least, she owed him some kind of appearance for coming all this way.

Gabe went to speak again, stopping when he saw and heard shuffling along with the soft jingle of a bell as Carla shifted around and finally pulled the blanket back and off of her head, the smile returning at the thought that she looked like a ruffled little kitten coming out to explore the world after a nap.

“There’s my Cutie!” He said with a laugh, eyes soon falling on the ‘actual kitten’ still tucked in her arms who also had her head sticking out. “Hi, Cleo.”

“What do you want?” She asked and moved to sit up, the blanket still around her shoulders.

He reached over, moved a loose strand of hair out of her face, “I just came to check on you. I know how you get when the weather’s like this.”

She frowned, “Not that I’m ungrateful, but I don’t need checking, Gabe. I’m not a baby.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. Even after all this time she still had trouble with being seen as vulnerable. And he didn’t blame her. From an outside perspective it could be seen as “just a silly fear”, but for her it was very real. “I know you’re not a baby. But you are my Cutie. And you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.”

“No I’m not,” She retorted, crossed her arms.

He chuckled, pointed out, “Carla, you’re hiding under the blanket with your kitty.”

“Well… Um…” Realising she was caught, her eyes widened slightly before shifting around and finally settling on Cleo. “That’s because Cleo is scared,” She argued, holding the cat closer to her chest.

Gabe smiled, replied, “And so is her owner.”

Immediately, her eyes shifted downward, that same wave of shame she felt when he first entered the room coming back over her. “Yeah, but…” She started and then stopped, took a minute to think over what she wanted to say as her hands idly ran over Cleo’s back.

“But?” Gabe pressed.

She sighed, admitted, “I shouldn’t be scared. I know that I’m safe here. Far safer than I ever was during some of those roadside stops with Papa. And yet –”

“Carla,” He started, slipping a careful finger under her chin. “Look at me.”

She did, the warm, comforting look in his eyes reassuring her as he continued.

“I get how you feel. Fears like this aren’t exactly rational. I mean, look at me. I’ve taken on all sorts of evildoers and yet, I’m terrified by something as small and harmless as a gecko.”

A brief giggle escaped Carla’s lips at the reference as she recalled the day she learned about his fear during a brief weekend getaway to Ophidian Island with their friends and how silly it seemed at the time. But, despite thinking it was silly, she also reassured him that she didn’t think any less of him for it.

“But even if I wasn’t, that’s not the point. The point is that it’s okay to be scared. Even if the reason might seem silly to others, it’s real to you and the people who care about you,” He finished, sliding the finger he hand on her chin upward until he was cupping her cheek.

Carla didn’t respond, not right away, only closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. When she opened them again, he was still there giving her that same reassuring look. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even think of a word, she was interrupted by yet another thunderclap accompanied by a harsh streak of lightning that instead of speaking, had her gasping as she pulled the blanket back over her head and resumed “kitten mode.”

“Come here,” Gabe encouraged, returning his hand to her back and waiting while she first peeked out, looking from him to Cleo and back again before carefully setting the cat aside and then crawling across the bed and over to him. He gave her a moment to settle herself across his lap, her arms coming to wrap around his neck while his own hands found their places, one settling on her back and the other on top of her leg.

She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder and let out a breathy sigh, eyes fluttering closed as his hand moved up and down her back. She felt stupid for being stubborn initially. Gabe was right. It was not only okay for her to be frightened; it was also safe for her to let him know.

He smiled at the way she easily settled into him, grateful that he was able to make her feel better, even for a little bit. All he wanted was for her to feel safe and loved, especially during times like this. Storms often left her feeling lonely, helpless, and distressed, things that she’d felt more than enough times in her life and that, if he had his way, she wouldn’t feel again. Unfortunately, he knew that his ability to make that happen was limited. Life wasn’t exactly the most predictable foe. But he would still try his best whenever he could.

The thought driving a wave of protectiveness through him, he tightened his hold on her, hoping to convey through his touch that he was there for her. Then, his heart leapt as another deafening thunderclap boomed overhead, accompanied by a particularly bright flash that lit up the whole room and drew a startled yelp from Carla as she clung even more tightly to him, burrowing her head further into his shoulder.

“I know,” He soothed, his hand resuming its up-and-down motions on her back while the other shifted, fingers brushing against the black ruffle on her dress. He was then suddenly aware of the fact that Carla was still in her daytime dress. He threw a quick glance to the clock, which told him that it was past her usual bath time. On any other night, she would either be in the bath or already in her nightclothes and curled up with a book or looking over her studies. The thought reminded him of how those long baths relaxed her and sparked an idea in his mind.

“I have an idea,” He said, getting a curious look in response once Carla lifted her head. “Why don’t I set you a bath? Something perfume-y with extra bubbles.”

Carla raised an eyebrow. “Why? Do I smell or something?”

“What? No! Of course not. I just thought it might relax you,” He explained, continued with an inviting look in his eyes, “When the door is closed the bathroom is relatively quiet. We could draw the drapes and set you up one of those ‘cheesy’ candlelight baths like in your books.”

Carla giggled at his last comment, added, “Only if there’s rose petals too.”

“Well, I can’t make any promises on that front.”

She faked a sigh, said as she slid off of his lap, “I guess I’ll have to settle for a rose scent instead.”

He chuckled, promised as he crossed the room, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She giggled again, moved to shut the curtains again before stepping over to her armoire to pull and set aside both her usual nightgown and bathrobe. She then turned her attention to the drawer at the bottom and opened it, taking a minute to rifle through its contents before finding his pyjamas. He hadn’t said anything about staying, but she hoped he would. No one could say how long the storm would last and if it ended up going through the night, she would prefer to not sleep alone.

Once both sets of clothing were laid out on the bed, Carla moved onto her vanity and winced when she saw how static from the blanket had mussed her hair.

“Good thing I’m done for the night,” She muttered to herself as she started to take down and brush out her hair, shivering halfway through when a smaller thunderclap sounded. She hoped the bath would do some good in distracting her for a bit. Warm, lustred water and perfumed bubbles sounded more than inviting and far better than huddling under blankets like a child. She stood, gave a delicate sigh at the thought of sliding into the water and letting it take over her body and her fears as she tossed aside and traded her clothes for her robe, finishing with the tie just as Gabe called her into the bathroom.

Once she crossed the doorway, she let out a small gasp. He’d not only put out the tea candles like she suggested, but rearranged some of her flowers around them, even tossing a few into the water.

“You like?” Gabe asked, a teasing hint in both his voice and gaze.

“I do,” Carla replied, her smile curving into a smirk as she stepped over to him, slid her hands around his neck. “But… I’d like it even more if you’d stay.”

Gabe blinked. It wasn’t an unfair request. Nor an unexpected one. He’d had a feeling that she would ask him to join her given the current weather situation. And since resolving to see her, he hadn’t planned on going back to work. Especially not after seeing how badly this particular storm had frightened her.

“Come on, Gabe,” She said, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. “Join me?” She encouraged and tilted her head slightly, the eager yet pleading look in her eyes slowly working its magic.

He met her gaze, thinking just how sincere she looked. Somehow, he knew that, more than anything, she wanted his company. The bath was an afterthought. Sure, it would be nice to sit back and relax with her while the water worked its own magic on them, but the best part would be the two of them just being together and enjoying each other’s company.

“Of course,” He finally agreed, lips turning up into the smallest of smiles at the way her eyes lit up in response.

She didn’t say anything, only leaned up to touch her lips to his in a soft kiss that she hoped conveyed her appreciation for him, what he’d already done for her that night and how happy she was that he was willing to stay.

***

Sometime later, once they were both properly bathed, dried, and dressed, they returned to the bed, this time to snuggle up under the covers, each one holding a hand onto the book Carla finally picked up off the floor.

Gabe turned a page at her nod, asked, “So, let me get this straight… Iduna – ” “Audrina,” She corrected him with a huff, shifting her free arm and Cleo over slightly.

“Right. Audrina,” He nodded to himself, continued, “So, Audrina is in love with this guy she only knows through letters?”

Carla shrugged. “Yes and no. She knows Nathaniel. He’s a family friend. But she doesn’t know that he’s the one writing the letters.”

“Oookay. And where does this Marcelo guy fit in?”

“He’s the prince that’s been chasing Audrina since childhood. And it would be a great marriage if she picked him, but she’s not so sure. Her aunt, however, is. And she’s going to do everything she can to get her daughter into his good graces instead, including humiliating her niece.”

“Huh. I guess these books are a little more complicated than I thought,” Gabe mused, absentmindedly playing with the ruffle on the end of her sleeve.

She carefully pulled the book out of his hand, marked the page before handing it back. “And what did you think?” She asked, looking up at him with a smirk as if she already knew what he was going to say.

Knowing what she wanted, Gabe took the book, said as he set it on the nightstand to his right, “That they were all about torrid displays of fantasy with bits of plot sprinkled in to make it feel like more than cheap smut.”

It wasn’t exactly the answer she was expecting, but close enough. She had figured he would say they were all cheap smut. She shifted again, moved to wrap her arm around him so she could snuggle in closer. “I guess that’s fair,” She admitted. “There are romance novels like that. This just isn’t one.”

“Oh?” He said, lips curving into a teasing smile, “Any I should know about?”

“Like I’d tell you,” She teased back, nestled her head against his chest.

A playful chuckle escaped his lips, his smile still in place as he moved his hand to run it over her hair. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

She playfully swatted his arm and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, earned another laugh from him in response as he continued stroking her hair, his teasing smile melting into a warm, reassuring one.

Another thunderclap sounded overhead, making Carla’s heart jump. She didn’t flinch, however, only tightened her hold on both Cleo and Gabe as he hugged her, her heart slowly settling as her eyes did, his warmth and the soft beating of his heart against her ear helping to lull her to sleep.

He kissed her head, reached over to shut off the lamp on the nightstand. He then adjusted first her blanket and then his as he settled down with her, comfort and peace claiming them both for the night despite the raging storm outside.

#Elena of Avalor #fanfiction #Carla Delgado #Gabe Nunez #Gabela #Gabe x Carla #Mirror World AU #my fanfiction #my fanfic #EoA Discord #Weekly Challenge #Storm #Love

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