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heyyyharry · 4 years

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Chapter 6: Cottage in the Woods

(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)

…in which the king is dead, Y/N faces a tough decision, and Harry thinks this might be goodbye.

Word count: 10k

Warning: smut and angst (please don’t hate me or Harry lol)

AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.

Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.

Wattpad link (original character: Reyna as Y/N)

Willem’s sickness had only gotten worse since he received the news that his daughter had fled the kingdom with a prisoner. He’d sent people to go after her, find her, and bring her back, but it had been almost two weeks and the missing princess still hadn't been found. Prince Kavan and his retinue had cancelled the wedding and returned to Attwell, and the King of Attwell had been furious. He had broken the alliance with the North and declared to cancel military aid and political support when Isolde was to be at war again. Never had Willem thought his dynasty would crumble because of a woman, but now he was starting to believe in the prophecy.

Could Madam Maggie be right when she said the faith of his kingdom was entirely in the hands of his only daughter? Everything had gone wrong since she left, and if she didn’t come back, if there was no wedding, if Egon became King, then Willem would lose it all. He had failed to be a husband and a father, and he might fail to be a king, too.

This morning when he woke up, the sky was grey. The castle was engulfed in dark clouds and the snow was falling so hard and thick that he could only see a white grey snow curtain when looking out of the window from his sickbed. Another storm was coming, one he had expected for a really long time.

“Josephine is here, Your Majesty.”

“Send her in.”

The guard opened the door for Jo to come in. She kept her head down and stayed close to the entrance as the door shut behind her.

“You asked for me, Your Majesty?”

“Come closer,” Willem said, his voice was low and unsteady. Jo hesitated before walking towards him to stand at the foot of his bed and only looked up when she’d been given permission.

Willem had only allowed his subjects to see him when he was well, so when Jo was requested to come to his chamber, she thought there had been a mistake. But there he was right in front of her, white as a corpse, nothing but skin and bones. Most of his hair had fallen out and there were more wrinkles on his face than she could recall. He was dying, and he knew it.

“Jo.”

“Yes, my lord?” Jo walked around the bed to stand beside him. Willem coughed while struggling to open his eyes.

“I asked to see you because you are the closest to my daughter. Did she tell you where she was headed?”

“No, my lord. Y/N--Um...Princess Y/N...didn’t tell me that she was going to run away, but my guess is that she’s heading to Theros.”

“To see Edgar?”

“I think so, my lord. She had always talked about how much she missed her uncle.”

Willem gave a low “hmm” and asked no more questions as he lifted his shaky finger and pointed to the desk facing his bed. “Bring me that envelope.”

Jo hastened to get the white envelope with the red royal seal and bring it to the King.

“Keep it,” he said, pushing it back into her hands. “Give it to Y/N. I might not be here when she returns and I need her to read this...”

“Your Majesty--”

“It’s all right, my child. Everyone has their own time.” Willem flashed a weak smile at the distressed maid. “I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to. But I know you did. And if you still do, please look after her.”

Just as Jo opened her mouth to respond, a guard walked in and she hurriedly hid the letter behind her back.

“Prince Egon has arrived, Your Majesty.”

Willem nodded and gave Jo a dismissive wave. She did a small curtsy before making her way to the entrance, following the guard and walking right past Egon without making eye contact. She brought the letter to her front before his eyes could catch it and just continued walking.

“Why did you ask to see Jo, father?” asked the Prince as soon as he entered the room and shut the door. He made his way to his father’s bed and stood beside it with his hands behind his back.

Willem had his eyes closed as he sucked in a breath. “I asked her about Y/N. I thought she might know where your sister went.”

“I already interrogated her as well as all the other servants in the castle. Nobody knew about Y/N’s plan to rescue a prisoner and run away with him. And forgive me if I’m wrong, but I believe that is treason.”

“She was scared. I was hard on her.”

“She was weak and could not fulfil a simple task. It was her duty to marry Kavan Gennady but she failed, and not only have we lost our strongest ally from the West, we will also be fighting on our own if Theros--”

Willem put up one hand and Egon’s mouth clamped shut. The Prince clenched his jaw as he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his irrational feelings of malice to himself.

“I didn’t ask to see you so you could tell me the things I already know,” the old King said. “Are they still looking for her?”

“Yes, father. I ordered our men to search every little corner on the main road through the towns, but we couldn’t find Y/N and the thief. They must have taken the trail through the forests and the North mountain. They’ve been on their own for a week without food and water, so it’s very unlikely that they are still alive.”

“She’s alive.”

Egon froze as his eyebrows knitted. “Yes, father?”

“Y/N is alive. I can feel it,” Willem said breathlessly as he started coughing. “Bring her back. And do not harm her.”

Egon released a sharp exhale as he straightened his back and lifted his chin. He had been patient, thinking he had got Isolde in the palm of his hand, but it seemed more difficult than he’d expected as Willem was too stubborn to let Y/N go.

“Father,” he spoke after a moment of silence, “you’re already on your deathbed. So why don’t you shut your whiny mouth and let me have the fucking throne?”

Petrified, Willem pointed his finger at Egon’s face. “How dare you--”

“Speak to you like that?” Egon scoffed. “But I am. What are you going to do?”

“G-Guards!”

“Go on. Scream louder. I’ve sent all of your guards away for a reason.”

Willem trembled as the last bit of colour on his face drained out and Egon stepped closer, smirking down at him, his nostrils flared and his eyes turning dark.

“You are a foolish man,” he told the King. “For all your life, the only thing you’ve ever cared about was the crown on your head.”

“Guards!”

“You spoiled me when you thought I was going to be your heir, and tossed me aside like a bone when you found out it was your precious daughter who would be ‘the saviour’.” Egon shook his head, laughing mockingly. “You were going to put the fate of your kingdom in the hand of a useless woman and a foreigner, and for what? A stupid prophecy that was told by another woman?”

“You are a disgrace!” Willem barked. “All you’ve done since your mother died was getting drunk and fucking whores. Anyone could be a better ruler than you!”

“Hmm, you might be right. Anyone could be a better ruler than me.”

“What are you doing?! Stop--”

Egon shoved the pillow to Willem’s face as he jumped on the bed, throwing one leg over his torso and sat on top of his chest. The old King was unable to fight back as he was too weak compared to his twenty-year-old son.

“But. Only. I. Will. Be. King!” With every word, Egon pressed the pillow harder, using all the strength he had as his knuckles went white and his face was damp with cold sweats. It didn’t take longer than two minutes for Willem to go silent and stop moving.

Egon removed the pillow slowly, his lips curved into a smile. He let out a joyous laugh and continued laughing for almost a minute before getting off the bed and fixing the duvets and the body’s position.

Before he ran out to find a guard and announce the death of the King, he took one last look at Willem’s face, admiring it for a second.

“See you in hell, father.”

Three days later...

“Welcome to Leslie’s whorehouse, gentlemen! We have all the best ladies—”

The commander slammed his fist on a table, making Leslie shrink back behind her counter. He scanned his eyes around and scowled at whoever dared to look. “We have been told two wanted subjects are taking shelter in this house. We’re here to bring them back to Isolde.”

“We don’t take orders from Isolde.” Leslie scoffed, squinting her tiny eyes. “Besides, how are we supposed to know these people? What do they look like?”

“It’s the prin--”

The commander raised a fist to stop his subordinate so he could continue, “we’re going to search every single room in this house. If you want to keep your head on your neck, do not get in our way.”

As no one dared to object, the commander turned back to his men, “I will search upstairs, one man downstairs, the others stay here and make sure nobody leaves.”

A guard rushed forward and whispered to him, “should we send more people in, commander?”

“We’re not sending ten men to catch a street rat and a girl,” the commander grumbled. “Stop questioning what I asked you to do and follow my order.”

“Yes, commander.”

“If you see the prisoner, kill him,” he said loudly to the guards but made sure everyone else heard it too. “Attack the important subject if you must, but keep this one alive. Prince Egon’s order.”

“Yes, commander!”

Everyone made way for the commander as he headed to the wooden staircase. On the first floor, he met a long corridor with numerous doors on each side. He started from the closest one, banging his fist on it until someone answered, but it was always the prostitutes and their clients who cowered or huddled in the corner as soon as they saw him.

In every room he passed echoed the moaning and laughing and the sound of bedframe slamming against the wall, but one room caught his attention as it was suspiciously quiet. He stopped and banged on the door. “Open the door! Prince Egon’s order!”

As he got nothing but silence, he raised his fist, about to try again before he had to use the last resort and kick the door down.

Click! The door was pulled open.

He saw Harry waving at him as Y/N jumped out and shattered a vase over his head. He stumbled back, losing his balance on the broken pieces and one jolt of her knee to his crotch made him drop to the floor. The princess drew out her sword before the man could get up, but as she raised it above her head, she stopped abruptly.

He took the opportunity to kick her in the knees and stood up when her body hit the ground. He raised his blade to strike, but Harry charged straight at him and cut his throat with Stefan’s hunting knife. Blood splashed all over Y/N’s clothes and face as the guard collapsed right in front of her.

Harry immediately dropped his weapon. He stepped around the dead body and wrapped his arms around her, her body had gone stiff and her face was pallid.

She knew that man. He had been her mother’s guard for the longest time before he was her brother’s. He used to carry Y/N on his shoulders when she was small, but today he was going to hurt her and she had to watch Harry kill him.

“Peach! Are you okay, love?” Harry frantically asked as he used his sleeves to wipe the blood off her face.

She kept gawking at the body lying in its pool of blood. “He—He was going to hurt me.”

“But you’re okay now.” Harry held her face, turning her eyes back on him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

“Guys! Terrible news—Holy shit!” Stefan covered his mouth, grasping the door so he wouldn’t faint. “That—That’s a dead body! A bloody dead body in the middle of our room!”

He looked at Y/N first as she was the one covered in blood, but Harry didn’t give him a chance to assume it was her.

“I did it,” he said and continued to clean Y/N’s face. “I had to. He was going to hurt Peach.”

“Well, what are you still doing here then?! You have to go!” Stefan hopped over the dead body to pick up the swords and Y/N’s satchel. “I was downstairs when they arrived! They said they’d kill you and I’m sure the 'important subject’ they mentioned was Rain. They would take her back to the castle for that bastard Egon!”

“Over my dead body.”

“I’m pretty sure that was what they meant, Harry.” Stefan rolled his eyes as he shut the door and locked it.

“We have to jump out of the window,” Y/N spoke, causing the men to freeze. Stefan opened his mouth but she shushed him and darted across the room to lean out of the ugly squared window.

“I think if we fall into the giant haystack down there, we’ll be fine.”

“Oh, she’s serious then,” Stefan mumbled, taking a shaky deep breath.

Harry exhaled through his mouth as Stefan gave him a nudge. “Fine. I’ll go first and I’ll catch yo—PEACH!”

Both men fled to the window, poking their heads out and sighing in relief when they saw that Y/N was fine. She pushed herself out of the haystack and stood up, fixing her clothes like it was no big deal.

“Wow, that was sexy,” Stefan said, and Harry shoved him out of the window.

Screaming, he slumped into the haystack and Y/N pulled him out of there so Harry could jump. Harry landed with a sharp cry, making Y/N push Stefan aside and drop down on her knees beside him. She carefully rolled up his sleeve to find blood soaking through the cloth around his wound.

“Harry, you’re--”

“Don’t worry,” he told her, pushing himself up. “Come on. We have to go.”

“This way!” Stefan told them and Harry quickly followed, but Y/N didn’t move. A young girl was looking straight at her. Before she could react, the girl picked up her dress and ran away. It took Y/N only two seconds to recognise her.

It was the same girl she had kicked out of her brother’s chamber when she needed to speak to him about Jo. That girl remembered her. That girl knew she was the Princess. That girl must be one of Leslie’s prostitutes and the one who had ratted them out.

Shit.

“Peach!”

“Coming!” she shouted back and raced after Harry and Stefan.

Five men were guarding the stable door as they looked for Thunder and Lightning. Y/N joined Harry and Stefan behind a wall, leaning her back against it as her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.

“They’re going to take our horses,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

“They can’t,” Stefan turned to her, “I already hid Thunder and Lightning where they couldn’t find. But we have to cross the stable to get there.”

“Shit,” Y/N muttered, looking at Harry. “Maybe each of us can take down two guards? I’m sure Stefan can handle one.”

Stefan flinched. “I’m not sure about that…”

“Bad idea,” Harry said, making his friend sigh in relief. “We cannot make a scene. Willem’s men are everywhere in this area. They could shoot us if we show our faces.”

“So what are we--”

“They went this way!” the female voice made them all jump.

“That sneaky little bitch!” Y/N muttered.

“Who?” Stefan asked but she didn’t care to answer. She looked around and spotted a hay wagon nearby.

“There! Hide in there!”

“We’re diving into hay again?”

“You don’t get to be opinionated now, Styles!” she scolded him and forced him onto the wagon. They lay down together for Stefan to cover them with hay. Nobody had seen Stefan run away with them so those guards didn’t bother to take a second look at him when they passed by.

He held his breath until they were gone and turned back to the wagon to tell his friends, “I’ll get the horses for you and we’ll get out of here.”

“Stefan, wait!” Y/N said as she heard his hurried footsteps fading. Harry pulled her to his chest and started rubbing her back to put her at ease.

“He’ll be back, just trust him,” he said, and she gave a nod, nuzzling his neck and closing her eyes.

Suddenly, they heard a voice. “They killed the commander.”

“Fuck that little bitch,” spoke another guard. “The Prince won’t be happy. He wants her back before his coronation.”

Coronation?! Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, her heart almost stopped. If her brother was having a coronation, it meant...it meant -- She couldn’t even finish that thought. She couldn’t accept it. Her mind went blank for a second and she heard Harry asking if she was okay, but she couldn’t tell him. If she removed her hand, she would start sobbing so loud she wouldn’t be able to stop. So she buried her face into his chest and forced herself not to cry.

They lay there for a long moment until the wagon began to move. Y/N knew it wasn’t Stefan because whoever was riding the wagon was too quiet. As she and Harry were trying to figure out what to do next, this person spoke to them, “your friend will catch up with us. I already told him where to find you.”

It was a woman.

Harry muttered into Y/N’s hand something sounded like “what the fuck?” but she only glowered at him and asked the lady, “who are you?”

“Someone who wants to help,” she said. “Now be quiet. And trust me.”

They didn’t have any other choice. Their fate was in this woman’s hand, so this could either be the luckiest day of their life, or the very last.

As the room faded into view, the first thing Harry saw was two beautiful women staring down at him. He thought one of them was Y/N, but when the blinding light started fading, he realised he had never met either of them. His eyelids fluttered as he kept on blinking. He thought he was dead for this was what heaven looked like in his imagination, he’d be surrounded by beautiful women, but if he was in heaven, where was Peach?

“Where’s Peach?!” He sat up straight, causing the girls to jump away from the bed.

“Who?” the taller one asked before giving a smile. “Oh, you mean the girl?”

“I thought her name was Rain,” said the other.

“I thought so, too.”

“Who are you?!” Harry’s face twisted as he shifted his eyes back and forth between the girls. They exchanged some funny looks while giggling, which made him more confused.

“I’m Mary, and this is my older sister, May,” said the tall one, “I was the one who saved you in the village. Don’t worry, you’re safe here in our home. You passed out on the way here so we brought you inside. Rain just went out a moment ago for some fresh air.”

“Where are we?” Harry asked, still breathing hard.

“I wish I could give you a specific answer. But all we can say is that you’re in the middle of the woods with two beautiful ladies,” Mary said, making May scoff as she swatted her on the arm.

“We don’t have friends or even neighbours so we’re so happy to have you here.” With a beam, May handed him a cup of tea, but he shook his head and waited for his brain to catch up with what they were saying.

“So the two of you live alone in the woods?”

“Yes, but we’ve been living here for a very long time. We have another sister who’s away at the moment. Her name is Maggie, you’d like her. But by the time she gets back, you might not be here anymore.”

Harry rubbed his forehead, his eyebrows knitted. “Isn’t it dangerous for the three of you to live here on your own? Aren’t you afraid?”

“Oh, we’re not afraid,” said May.

“In fact, danger should be afraid of us.” Mary laughed along with her sister, but then she noticed the blood soaking through his sleeve and she gasped. “Oh sweet thing, you’re hurt!”

“It’s okay.” He pulled his arm away before she could take it. “I got this wound a few nights ago. It must be bleeding again because I jumped out of a window.”

He expected them to question why he’d done such a crazy thing, but those ladies didn’t even seem surprised, as if people jumping out of windows was a normal thing that they saw every day.

“Come with me,” Mary said as she grabbed his hand, pulling him up. “Lucky for you, I know a lot about medicinal herbs.”

As he hesitated to stand, she chuckled. “Are you still worried about your lady?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yes. But you’re not, so worry about yourself,” Mary said as she led him to a different room.

This one was smaller, with two narrow rectangular windows for sunlight to enter, but not enough to brighten the whole room. There were dry flowers hanging on the ceiling and crooked shelves on the walls that kept jars in various shapes and sizes and clay pots of exotic plants.

Mary told him to wait at the dusty table in the middle of the room while she prepared the herbs. He took some time to look around before she returned and pulled up a chair. She sat in front of him, their knees touching.

“This is what I’d like to call my medical room,” she said and gave him a reassuring smile. “Pull up your shirt.”

“What?”

“Pull up your shirt.”

“But I’m not--”

Mary pulled up his shirt before he could stop her and his eyes stretched as he saw the large bruises on his torso. Mary released a breathy laugh and began to apply the herbs topically. Her fingertips felt cold against his skin, making him shiver and she would stop to make sure he was okay before she continued.

When they both looked up and made eye contact, he shyly looked away. He heard her giggle as his heart started beating like a drum, but when he saw the bloodstain on his other sleeve, he thought about Y/N.

Mary let down his shirt and went for the wound on his arm. He hissed when she applied the herbs to it and breathed out steadily once he had gotten used to the burn.

“So the girl, Peach,” she said, smirking at the nickname. “Is she your lover?”

“No.”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. He said nothing, so she went on, “well, if I were your lover, I’d be very jealous of how much you care about her.”

“She’s my friend, so there’s nothing wrong with me caring about her,” he said, sounding more like he was explaining to himself than to the girl. “Besides, I’m not in love with anyone.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Mary said and pressed her red lips into a smile.

Harry was no stranger to having women flirt with him so he knew exactly what Mary was doing. The tingling feeling in his stomach made him shift on his chair, but he soon realised it was only because this woman looked like Y/N, not exactly the same, but enough to make him feel something he shouldn’t.

He decided to change the subject, “this must be the herbs Stefan mentioned. He told me he'd get them for my wound.”

“Impossible." Mary scoffed. "These are very rare. My oldest sister had to bring them back from the highest mountain in the East. So unless your friend often travels there, I assume he was talking about the ordinary kind, you know, the useless one."

Harry laughed along at the joke. He had a few questions about this mysterious sister but didn't think it was necessary to ask, so he went on, "you said that Stefan knew we were here, right?”

“Yeah, I saw him hide you two in my hay wagon, so I offered to help and told him to bring the horses here tonight. It’s too risky to go during the day as those Northerners are everywhere in the village now.” Mary rolled her eyes, pursing her lips as she started dressing his wound. “Why are they after you anyway?”

Harry stayed silent, his eyes shifted to his lap.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Mary chuckled as she finally finished and cleaned her hands with a cloth.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she gave him another smile, he had to ask, “do you always help strangers like us?”

“Only the ones who deserve our help.”

“And how do you know who deserves it?”

“We just know.” Mary gave a shrug and kissed his arm before standing up. “We’re done, love. You’re good to go.”

Y/N had never seen the sky so blue. She was used to the washed-out grey so characteristic of wintry afternoons that when she stepped outside, she thought she was lost in a daydream. She sat on the grass, hugging her knees to her chest, just watching the clouds float across the pretty blue sky and forgetting how much time had passed since she got there.

The weather felt like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat, and the grass was a soft green with a hint of yellow. Seeing all these vibrant colours instead of the usual dull grey and white, she knew she was close to her destination. But the invisible weight resting against her chest didn’t allow her to feel any sense of joy.

Her father was dead. She’d watched the person she cared about kill someone she’d known her whole life. She’d even dragged poor Stefan into this mess and made him risk his life for her.

And Harry, her Harry…

Had they been caught at the brothel, he would have been killed. They only wanted to keep her alive because she was the princess. Harry didn’t matter to them. They didn’t care about the life he used to have, his dreams, his family, all of which mattered so much to Y/N that she wouldn’t forgive herself if he never got to have them again.

“Hey.”

She flinched and turned around, smiling as she saw him approach. The sun was slowly sinking into the woods and painting the sky shades of red and pink. Harry sat down by her side, resting his elbows on his knees, one hand holding the other wrist.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” She tucked a strand behind her ear and took his arm to check the wound. “Wow, the girls did a pretty good job.”

“They really did.” He chuckled. “I think they’re witches.”

“They saved us, didn’t they?” She lifted her shoulders in a half shrug. “If they’re witches then they’re good ones, and we should be thankful.”

As he said nothing and kept gazing at her, she bashfully wiped her cheeks, thinking there was something on her face and was perplexed as he let out a soft laugh and held her hands to stop her.

“I just think you’re very...pretty,” he said, making her blush.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Harry gave a shy nod, and her heart felt like it could explode. That feeling of ecstatic elation was so out of this world, yet it disappeared as she woke up from her short-lived daydream. Despite knowing this would not last, a part of her was still holding onto that fantasy, in which they met as different people in a different time and maybe then they would have fallen in love.

But the reality was this, them sitting side by side, silently wishing they could live in this moment forever until their shadow started shrinking towards their feet and they knew ‘forever’ had come to an end.

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her skin cooled by the breeze. Harry noticed so he asked, “do you want to go inside?”

She shook her head. “Can we just enjoy this beautiful sunset for a bit more?”

“Okay.” His mouth twitched as he watched her watching the sky. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. What’s wrong with you?” She chuckled, turning to look at him but his serious expression remained.

“Are you really fine?” He paused to let her answer. To his disappointment, she gave him nothing.

She wished she could tell him everything, from her true identity to all the demons that were chasing after her, to the childhood memories she refused to let go, to that summer day at the Vidarr River with the boy who had saved her life, to how she was falling in love with that boy and had not realised it until this very moment, to how much it scared her that she would ruin him before he could love her in return.

Everything.

How sad it was that their entire relationship had been built upon a lie. Would he still treat her this way if he knew who she was? Or would he look at her in disgust and assume she was just like her father and brother? Or worse, he could hate her for lying to him.

Before this day, she had feared that he would hurt her. But now, she just wanted to protect him from everything bad in the world, including herself.

“Peach...”

She jerked away when he reached out his hand to touch her shoulder. The look on his face almost broke her heart. He was shocked, but he’d seen it coming. His hand fell back to his lap as he broke the eye contact, his mouth opening and closing as if he had run out of words to say. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t something he’d done but she didn’t know how to even begin so she let him get up and walk back to the cottage.

Watching him go, she wondered if she should stop him and tell him the truth, but a voice in the distance knocked her out of her own head, “Rain!”

“Stefan!” Y/N got up quickly and ran to Stefan as he got off Thunder’s back and gave her a big hug.

She held his face, laughing with her mouth wide open. “You’re here! I was so worried!”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I thought they got you.” She pulled him in for another hug, closing her eyes. “God, I’m so relieved.”

Stefan was hesitant to return the hug but once his arms had locked around her, he didn’t let go. She was the one who pulled away and turned to Thunder, giving her horse a warm hug as well.

“Where’s Lightning?” she asked Stefan as the smile slipped from her face. “Did they take her?”

“No, I would come back for her tomorrow. Leaving the village with both of them would’ve been too suspicious.”

“You’re right. Thank you so much for helping us.” She smiled, patting him on the back. “Come with me. Harry will be so happy to see you.”

“Wait, Rain,” he stopped her in her tracks.

She turned around, raising her eyebrows at him. “Yes, Stefan?”

Stefan took a deep breath, stepping closer and running his fingers through his short brown curls. His cheeks were flushed from the cold as night fell which made her wonder why he was reluctant to go inside.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Oh, okay…” Her lips parted as she tensed her shoulders while hugging herself. She hoped he wasn’t going to break some terrible news. Even though she couldn’t guess what it was, she didn’t think her heart could handle it.

And she was right.

Stefan took her hand as he got down on one knee and she recoiled in shock, her eyes bulging. “What are you do--”

“Marry me.”

“What?! This isn’t funny, Stefan. Get up.”

“No, this is not a joke. I love you, Rain.” He reached for her other hand but she withdrew both and took two steps backwards, shaking her head.

“No, you can’t. You can’t!” She kneaded her forehead, her breaths quickened. “Look, you are a nice man and--and I-I’m very flattered. But you don’t want to be with me--”

“But I do. I want to be with you so much and I want to be the one who takes care of you--”

“No, stop!” She covered her ears and he hurriedly followed as she walked away.

“You’ll be happier with me. You can finally have a family and a home. You don’t have to keep on running!”

“I have a family and a home!” She turned around, raising her voice, “I’m going back to Theros. That’s my home, and my uncle is the only family I need.”

“How do you know your uncle is still alive, Rain?”

“I just know, all right? And you--God, Stefan, please don’t make this harder. I can’t...I can’t marry you.”

Stefan shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a sharp breath, his head hung. She sucked in her lips while picking at her nails. She kept shifting from one foot to the other, unable to stand still as her heart was beating so loud in her ears. She thought she knew what he was going to say. She was praying he wouldn’t say it.

“You’re in love with Harry.”

“No,” she blurted, shaking her head.

“But you are, Rain.”

“I’m not in love with Harry. I’m not in love with anyone. Not even myself.” She held her head, holding back her tears as her voice trembled. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m...I’m trouble--”

“I can handle it, like today--”

“Today could have been worse. We could’ve been killed. And we might not be lucky like today if they find us again, Stefan. I--”

I broke my father’s heart and killed him. I denied my responsibility and betrayed my kingdom. I put innocent people like you and Harry in danger. I don’t deserve to be loved.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Stefan spoke as Y/N couldn’t finish what she was saying. He put his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close as she unclenched her fists and let her arms dangle at her sides.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “I don’t know about your past, and I don’t care how awful you think it was, because I know you have a good heart and you deserve to be happy. I lost my family too, so I understand what it’s like to feel like you don’t deserve what your loved ones couldn’t have. But we can change that. Marry me and let’s be happy together. We’ll have a normal life just like you’ve always wanted.”

Y/N took a deep breath and slowly lifted her hands to rest them on his back. Though she knew her heart would break if she chose not to break Stefan’s heart, it could be the only way this could end without anyone getting hurt.

Harry was pacing back and forth in the cottage while waiting for Stefan and Y/N. May and Mary were making dinner and didn’t bother to question why he appeared to be so upset. He’d tried not to let it show, but jealousy had got the best of him. Half of him wanted to go outside and see what was taking them so long, whilst the other half couldn’t stop thinking about the way Y/N had jumped into Stefan’s arms the second she saw him.

Chewing on his lips, Harry reassured himself that Stefan was probably giving her updates about what was happening at the brothel after they had left. Y/N had never shown interest in Stefan before, so he had no reason to worry. Right?

The handle on the door shook slightly and Harry flew straight to it and opened the door, glowering at Stefan the second he saw him alone. “Where’s Peach?”

“Oh, she’s checking on Thunder.” Stefan stepped around Harry to walk in as May and Mary came to introduce themselves.

Harry couldn’t care less about what they were saying to each other. He continued pacing back and forth and pinching his bottom lip anxiously until he heard, “you’re welcome to stay with us, Stefan.”

“You’re staying?” He shot his head up, his eyes went round.

“Yeah.” Stefan nodded happily. “I’m going back to the village tomorrow with Mary to get Lightning. I couldn’t bring both horses here as it might have been suspicious.”

Mary put her hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving him a warming smile. “You and Stefan can sleep in the shed and Rain will sleep here with May and I.”

“Can you give us a moment?” Harry told her and pulled Stefan back to the entrance. He watched the girls set the table and turned to his friend, lowering his voice to a whisper, “how was Peach when you talked to her? Did she tell you why she was so upset?”

“No, she didn’t say anything but she was very emotional. Did you do something wrong?”

“Fuck, I think I did,” Harry breathed into his palms, his eyes squeezed shut, “she was terrified when she saw me kill that guard. I bet she only sees a murderer when she looks at me now.”

“That’s not true,” Stefan said, putting both hands on Harry’s shoulders. “You only did that to protect her and I know my lady won’t ever think so about someone who has saved her life.”

“Your lady?”

Despite Harry looking distressed, Stefan proudly raised his chin. “I just proposed and she said she’d think about it.”

Harry froze as those words hit him like an arrow, yet his heart didn’t stop, it kept beating faster and louder.

“I think she’s going to say yes. God, I cannot wait until tomorrow!”

Stefan was on cloud nine so he could not see through Harry’s fake smile. He patted Harry on the back and joined the sisters at the table. Meanwhile, the heartbroken man went limb by the door as his shoulders slumped and his face turned blank.

He wanted to be optimistic and believed that maybe meant no for Y/N. Still, if she had wanted to turn Stefan down, she would’ve done it right when he asked. So she was actually considering it. Y/N believed that marriage was the ultimate happy ending for a woman, and one would be happy if they married the right man. Stefan seemed like someone she could fall in love with. If Harry was her, he would rather stay with Stefan than continue to wake up every day wondering if it would be the last.

Despite knowing the reason she would consider marrying Stefan, Harry still could not accept it.

When Y/N entered, his entire body stiffened. She stopped at the door and gave him a smile, one too gentle, almost forceful that it made his skin crawl. Stefan was being distracted by whatever Mary was telling him about and so he didn’t notice Y/N coming in. Harry grabbed her elbow as she walked past. She looked at him, flustered as he gently pulled her closer.

He brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Stefan and I are staying in the shed tonight, so...uh...if you can’t sleep, you can come over. We can...cuddle again.”

“Okay,” was all she said before giving a small smile and joining the others at the table.

That night, Harry couldn’t sleep. He kept tossing and turning while Stefan was snoring next to him. He would prop himself up on his elbows every few minutes to look at the door, hoping Y/N would enter and join him under these covers.

He missed her soft skin, her sweetness on his tongue as he held her legs apart and watched her squirming and gasping his name. But most of all, he missed falling asleep holding her and waking up smelling just like her. If she came to him tonight, then he would know that she chose him over Stefan. But he waited, and waited, and waited, until he fell asleep.

The next day, he woke up alone. He didn’t know how late it was, but his head didn’t hurt as much as yesterday and his wound wasn’t as painful anymore. He rolled out of bed and put on his shirt before taking a heavy-footed walk outside.

The sky was so pretty today, blue, bright and soft all at once. Harry filled his lungs with fresh air and the soft smell of the morning’s dewy grass. He couldn’t help but notice the red and yellow wildflowers growing along the path. Thinking for a second, he decided to pick some for Y/N.

He walked around the cottage and found her, Stefan, and May at the stable getting ready for the trip back to the village. He watched Y/N from a distance, and his heart pained when he saw Stefan give her the same flowers. He looked down at the ones he had picked, his heart slowly sinking and he heard Mary’s voice from behind, “are you okay?”

“You scared me,” he said as she approached.

She pointed to the flowers. “Are those for Rain or for me?”

“No one. I just thought they were pretty,” he said reluctantly. “You can have them if you want.”

Mary took the flowers without faltering and told him she loved them very much.

“May, look!” she shouted at her sister who was following Y/N towards them. “Harry picked these flowers for me! Are they pretty?”

May rolled her eyes, laughing slightly, but Y/N’s expression stayed the same. She was looking at Harry, who was staring at his feet as if he was afraid to see her reaction.

May told Mary that Stefan was waiting for her, and as Mary said goodbye to Harry and Y/N, she didn’t forget to give Harry a kiss on the cheek. Y/N didn’t ask about it, not even after Stefan and Mary had left. Harry assumed she was upset about him and Mary, but he didn’t think of it as an achievement.

If only he could go back to when he didn’t care if she ignored him, but as he watched her helping May with the housework just to avoid him, all he wanted was to tear his head off and set himself on fire.

In a moment of selfishness, he wished Stefan wouldn’t return.

When Stefan and Mary came back, the sun was setting and Harry had just woken up from a long nap.

His wound didn’t hurt anymore and all the bruises had magically disappeared, but he had been weary all day long and didn’t want to leave the bed. He covered his face with a pillow, trying to fall back to sleep when a knock on the door made him jolt right up.

“Harry! I’m back!”

And so is Stefan, he thought tiredly and ran his hands over his face.

He came to open the door as Mary kept on knocking but she was too impatient to wait. She burst right in before he could touch the handle and slammed the door shut, standing with her back against it and her hands behind her back.

“May and I had to go outside so Stefan and Rain could talk,” she said, biting her lip. “Would you escort me to their wedding?”

“There won’t be a wedding.”

“Why not?” Pouting, she followed him to the bed and stood with her hands on her hips as he sat down.

“I know Rain. She doesn’t want to marry Stefan.”

“That’s not what she told May.”

His eyes popped out as he looked up at the girl. “What did she tell May?”

Mary plopped down by his side, hugging his arm and resting her chin on his shoulder. “She said she was going to say yes.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” Mary shook her head. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask May. Or you can see it for yourself!”

She got up and pulled his arm but he didn’t move. She huffed, her nose crinkled like a little girl. “Don’t you want to congratulate them?”

“I’m too tired, Mary. The only thing I want right now is some ale.”

“I have ale!”

Harry was surprised when the girl ducked under his bed and pulled out a wooden box full of ales. His eyes grew large as she put a finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet.

“I have to hide these from my sisters. They hate it when I drink, but I’m not a baby anymore, I just turned eighteen last month.”

“Eighteen?” He chuckled. “You’re the same age as Peach and you look quite like her.”

“I assume that’s a compliment?” She smirked.

“It is.” Harry sighed sadly as he took the bottle from her hand.

Y/N was waiting for Stefan by the fireplace when he walked in. From the cheerful look on his face, she guessed May had told him something before he entered, which would make what she was about to say so much worse. But he might already know that as he took a seat on the opposite side of the table and saw the massive frown her face.

“I’m sorry, Stefan,” she told him, the flame glowing in her eyes as she met his disheartening gaze.

Stefan swallowed hard, running his fingers through his hair. He knew this was going to happen, and yet he was brave enough to hope it would go differently.

Before he came back, she had prepared a long speech to turn him down, thinking if she gave him reasons then her answer would hurt him less. But after spending some time to think it over, she realised people would only hear what they wanted to hear, and the other things, no matter how genuine, would be a waste of time. She was not going to waste his time, and only going to say what she thought was important.

“I actually considered it, you know,” she spoke with a faint frown. “I thought about how marrying you would be the perfect escape for all of us. And I even told May that I was going to accept your proposal.”

“So what changed that?” he asked calmly despite being everything but calm. She appreciated how he was trying to understand instead of being bitter about her decision.

She sucked in a breath, kneading her temple. “When you came back and I heard you outside, there was this unsettling feeling in my stomach. It was not only sadness but also guilt. And I thought, if I felt that way about accepting your proposal then how could I spend my whole life with you and feel it every day? You don't deserve that. And I don't either.”

Stefan nodded. Though disappointed, he didn't interrupt her.

“I ran away from the place where I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t, and I don't want to go back to that same life. I can’t love you the way you want me too, Stefan. I’m so sorry, but I can't, and you deserve a wife who will love you until her very last breath. I’m very sorry.”

“It’s okay, Rain. You don't have to apologise,” Stefan said as he reached across the table to hold her hand. “I’ve spent some time to think and realised I was wrong to put you into this position. I wouldn’t be happy if you marry me only because it felt like the right thing to do. I don't want to be the greatest mistake of your life.”

She rolled her eyes as they shared a laugh. “Well, it would be a real challenge to become the greatest mistake of my life.”

Stefan pressed his lips into a smile as he gave her hand a squeeze. “I know someone else will fall in love with you, Rain. Trust me, it’s very hard not to.”

Harry gripped the bottle in his hand, his eyes swivelling towards the back of his head in a distressed sense of a headache. Mary was rambling on about something to do with magic and potions, which made no sense to him but he wasn’t making an effort to understand.

They were sitting on the floor, he tilted his head towards the edge of the bed, sighing as the walls started changing figures and the ceiling was expanding and shrinking in a blink of an eye.

With her head on his chest, Mary was singing a song she didn’t know the words to, so she replaced most of the lyrics with his and her name and both of them dissolved into laughter every time she shouted them out loud.

He felt shivers down his spine as she nuzzled his neck, her warm breath tickling his shoulder whilst his own breath was the underlying cause of the smell of alcohol that entered his nostrils. His mouth was sore and dry so he poured the rest of the ale down his throat and put the empty bottle back on the floor with the other ones.

He gently pushed her head off his shoulder, clearing his throat as he stood up, just to fall down on the bed in an unbalanced attempt to walk to the door. He lay there, his arms spread, feeling the comfort of the mattress overtaking the state of drunkenness.

“Peach,” he mumbled while covering his eyes with his forearm. He felt the bed weighing down as Mary got on and mounted him. She straddled his waist, giggling like a madwoman as she lay flat on top of him, her chest against his chest and he wasn't in his right mind to push him off her.

As she put her lips to his neck, he cupped her cheeks and brushed her hair out of her face. His vision was blurred as her face faded out of focus only to fade back in while spinning in circles with the ceiling.

“Peach...you’re here,” he mumbled out of desperation as he sat up, locking an arm around her waist. Mary couldn’t stop laughing. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed her forehead to his.

“Peach? I like Peach, the best fruit in the world!” she said drunkenly, but all he could see was her mouth moving in silence.

He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb and she sucked it into her mouth, holding his wrist so he couldn’t pull away. But he didn't want to. His eyes bored into her as his eyelids drooped. He smiled, staring at his finger between her lips. He adored Y/N’s full lips. Y/N’s bright eyes. Y/N’s pink cheeks...

It was Y/N that he saw sitting on his lap. It was Y/N who was whispering into his ear how much she wanted him. It was Y/N whose lips he was kissing, whose hands snuck under his shirt, whose dress he was taking off. It was all her.

Kissing him passionately, Y/N combed her fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes at the comforting feeling. She took the opportunity to slip her tongue in, and instantly he responded by gliding his tongue against hers. She leaned back to flick her hair out of the way, reaching down to put his hands around her waist and rubbing her crotch against his thighs. She began to pant a little as she cupped his growing bulge.

“You're hard,” she whispered in his ear, ending it with a moan and grinding down more urgently.

His hands had to steady her, and her head fell against his shoulder, breathing heavily and her eyes fluttering.

"G-god," she moaned. "You've got me so wet."

Harry moved her hips faster in circles, eyes rolling back at the sensation of the pressure on his cock. "I need to touch you..."

"P-please," she whimpered, and he lifted her off him and slid her underwear off her hips, his body reacting strongly to the sight as he pulled his pants down to release his erected cock, sliding his fist up and down the length as she started kissing him again...

Everything after that was a blur…

The next time Harry opened his eyes, he was lying naked on the bed, tangled up between the sheets, and the sunlight was shining through the high window on the wall. He wasn't sure the images in his mind were a crazy dream or actual memories of the night before, until he flipped onto his side and saw the girl’s bare back as she was sleeping beside him.

“P-Peach?” he whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder. His slight movement made her stir awake, and he was petrified when she turned over.

He instantly sat up as Mary propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. The blanket slipped down, exposing her perky round breasts and he quickly looked away, making her chuckle.

“You loved them last night. Don't hurt my feelings.” She smirked and threw her legs off to the side of the bed. He sat on the other side, his back facing her as they silently put on their clothes.

“I can’t get pregnant, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” she told him, but he kept on getting dressed and didn't say a word. She broke the silence once again, “you don’t remember anything we did?”

“Only a bit, ” he finally said, “but I thought...I thought…”

“You thought I was Rain, right?”

He did. He fucking did, and he was so ashamed.

Lucky for him Mary didn’t look angry or bitter. She turned and patted him on the back. “It’s okay. I don’t remember much either. Except for a few things you said--”

“What did I say?” he asked quickly.

She chuckled at his worrying look. “When you came, you said you loved her. I thought it was so sweet.”

He wished she had been lying, but he knew himself and that was definitely something he had said when he was drunk and missing her.

She might have left with Stefan already or was getting ready to leave, and he couldn’t deal with either way. He just wanted to stay in this shed, alone, until he accepted that he’d lost her and a chance to say goodbye.

He wasn’t sure if it was love as he had called it, but the way he felt about her had been the most exciting and frightening and disappointing and comforting feeling he had ever felt. And now he couldn’t accept that it was over, but he couldn’t hide from it forever.

Once he and Mary had finished getting dressed and cleaning the bottles on the floor, she gave him a hug and told him she was sorry about Y/N. He wasn’t sure if she was sincere, but he would take all the sympathy he got. Mary opened the door and walked out first, he reluctantly followed.

His feet turned to stone the second he saw Y/N right outside the cottage with Thunder and Lightning. Mary had gone somewhere but he didn’t care. He turned his head from left to right, looking for Stefan, and when he couldn’t find him, he gathered all of his courage to approach her.

Lightning reared and neighed when she saw him, but Y/N and Thunder’s reaction was the opposite of such excitement.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly told him, “get ready, we’re leaving.”

“Where’s Stefan?”

“He went home last night. You missed the chance to say goodbye,” she said, not looking at him. He was supposed to be elated, but all he felt right then was just guilt.

“I need to tell you something,” he blurted.

“If it’s something about last night then don’t,” she said with a straight face. Y/N was always so scary when she was too calm. She let go of Thunder and finally looked at him, her glare was as cold as ice. “I couldn’t sleep so I came to find you. I didn’t come in, don’t worry. But I could hear everything from the door.”

Oh no...

“I was drunk…”

“So that’s what you do every time you get drunk? Take a girl to bed?”

“No!” He shook his head rapidly as she let out a sigh.

“Just go get ready.”

“Peach.” He caught her arm before she could leave. He almost told her that he had been so drunk he thought it was her instead of Mary, but he was tongue-tied as his fingertips pressed into her arm.

“What happened between you and me,” he breathed, “was different. We were different. You’re...special to me.”

She gave a mirthless laugh and yanked her arm away. “We were only different because you can’t have me. Things are always so great when you can’t have them, but when you do, you’ll realise how unspecial they are. And then I’d be like Mary and the girls at the alehouse to you.”

He didn’t know what hurt more, hearing those words from her or knowing that it was what she really believed.

She crossed her arms over her chest, making herself look small as her forehead puckered. “I’ve been distracted, but from now on, I’m not letting stupid men slow me down anymore.” She swallowed, pressing her lips together. “But...I can’t lie and say I don’t care about you. Because I really do, and I h-hate that. So we’re going to finish this journey together, try to keep each other alive, and then...and then we can finally separate.”

She shoved Lightning’s saddle into his arms and ran back to the cottage, leaving him there to wonder if this indescribable pain deep in his chest was what he was supposed to feel when he lost Kenny.

“I can’t believe you slept with him!” May said as she slammed her palm on the table, but Mary didn’t even blink as she continued sewing her dress.

“I was drunk,” she rolled her eyes, “and have you seen him?”

“You’re such a whore, Mary. Maggie won’t be happy about it.”

“Yeah, well, Maggie isn’t here, is she?”

Right as Mary finished her sentence, the front door flew open and the two sisters jumped out of their seats. A tall and slim woman walked in. She shrugged off her black cloak, letting her long black curls fall down past her waist as she marched towards the table, glaring at the girls.

“Did I just hear my name?”

“Maggie!” Mary wrapped her arms around her oldest sister, hugging her tightly.

“How was the trip?” May asked as she got up and also shared a hug with Maggie.

“Extremely unpleasant,” Maggie said, her golden tooth sparkled as she gave a wide grin. “Did you two behave when I was away?”

May elbowed Mary, who scoffed and rolled her eyes but she didn’t speak so May did, “the princess just left and Mary slept with her man.”

Maggie didn’t react the way May had when she heard it, but she didn’t look very pleased. Her thick eyebrow arched high as she raised her voice, “explain, Mary.”

“I’m so sorry!” Mary clasped both hands together in front of her face. “But--But everything is fine now. They’re still heading South to see King Edgar!”

Maggie sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “But you could have ruined everything, Mary! If she had changed her mind because of what you did, we would all be dead!”

“I know, sister...” Mary swallowed, her head hung.

“That princess is much stronger than she looks,” May said.

Maggie released a sharp breath. “But she would give up everything for that boy. And we cannot have that, can we?”

#tctm series #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting · 4 years

Text

23. Clara

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

I should have known Sickleworth would have gone straight back to Rakepick the minute Ben left him to his own devices. How could I have thought that he'd simply roam free like most wild Nifflers would?

He was handed to Rakepick during her days at Gringotts. Of course he'd want to stay by her and await her instructions like any puppy bound to its owner would. But how could he have tracked her? Last year, Ben and I thought she abandoned him, but it turned out that Sickleworth was still resourceful in a sneaky way we never considered. So maybe she didn't abandon him after all, the same way she abandoned Jacob in the Vault. Maybe, after all this time, he was working for 'R' too.

Honestly, I couldn't believe a devious little Niffler could leave us looking like fools.

"Revelio," I murmured, waving my wand over the dry dirt path. With a small sigh like the gentle whisper of a breeze, the dust parted to reveal the hardly discernible, yet present, tracks I so desperately needed...and they seemed to lead right toward the Care of Magical Creatures paddock.

Without even bothering to look behind me to check on Diego and Em, I ran ahead in a full sprint, keeping the tracks on my right side and my wand tight in my grip. Upon arriving at the paddock, my feet screeched to a halt at the sight of Beatrice and Ismelda throwing Puffskeins through pet-sized Quidditch hoops, a heap of the fluffy little creatures by their feet.

Even if throwing the Puffskeins didn't actually hurt them, I still felt very aggravated. My fists clenched against my will, and I let a loud whoosh exit my mouth--a bit too loud, unfortunately. Instantly, Beatrice and Ismelda froze mid-throw and glanced up at me, the Puffskein landing with a dull thump on the ground in front of the hoops.

"Lin? Really?" Ismelda shot at me. "And here I thought you learned your lesson the first time."

"I'm not here to talk to Beatrice about Penny," I told them, holding my hands up in surrender. "But what are you two doing, anyway?"

"Throwing Puffskeins, obviously. Ismelda said the Puffskeins like it," Beatrice responded, throwing another Puffskein through the top-most hoop. "Plus it passes the time as we wait for Hogwarts' inevitable doom.”

Hogwarts' inevitable...oh.

"How cheery," Diego's voice scoffed from behind, and I glanced behind, slightly guilty at the fact that I had indeed left Diego and Em far behind, the latter having to cradle her broken arm close to her to prevent any further injury to it. Leave it to Eunice to further initiate the war zone that Hogwarts wasn't meant to be. I just didn't understand why so many people wanted to target her.

"Oh, you again," Beatrice suddenly said to little Em, her eyes narrowing. "You're not here to spy on me for Penny, are you?"

"Clara just said it. We're not here to talk to you about Penny, and we're certainly not here to spy on you for her," little Em shot back. "If you really must know, we're here looking for a Niffler."

"Rakepick's Niffler?" Ismelda asked her then, eyes widening. "He was just here raiding the feed bags!"

"And obnoxiously parading a white feather around," Beatrice added with a roll of her own eyes.

"Can't blame him. He must have been famished after terrorizing a first-year Slytherin earlier," I shrugged. "Must have missed him, then. It doesn't look like he's here."

Ismelda just shook her head at the three of us as she crouched down to grab another Puffskein. "Why are you interested in finding that rat, anyway?" she inquired, chucking it through the hoops and straight towards little Em, who caught it instantly with her good arm.

"I suspect Sickleworth might lead me to Rakepick," I explained simply. "Not like you'd care."

"You mean Rakepick could be lurking around here somewhere?" Beatrice asked then.

"Sounds like the inevitable doom could come sooner than I thought," Ismelda added with a sneer.

All this time, I was trying to protect my friends. All this time, I was trying to avert the "inevitable doom". Was I really trying to make this situation better, or was everyone already suffering more from my actions? Could anyone understand that everything I did was ultimately for the greater good?

Every move I made dictated what could happen in the future. Every move I made was engraved in the past, without any way of changing it.

The prophecy may still have confused me, but at least now I knew that it was coming to pass. Even if I still had yet to hear from the Centaurs about what my prophecy meant at all, I already knew that what was happening now could spell the trap I could fall into.

"Useless banter, I see," little Em finally spat, and I whirled around to see her face morph into that of a deep anger I have never seen before. "As if either of you have suffered what my sister had suffered. As if either of you had suffered what I had suffered! For years we've lived through hell--for weeks we've suffered through so much agony together! Can't you both at least be appreciative of my sister for what she's doing? Even if I don't always know what she's doing, I know that she's trying to help ease the situation."

"And what about you? Just standing by while others injure you and your pride?" Beatrice demanded. "Don't be dumb, little Em Lin. I've seen your broken nose incident. I could have broken it again in the Artefact Room. Heck, I could break it right now while I could."

"Can you leave me alone? I'm just a kid!" little Em screamed. "And so what? You're just going to let the fact that I have a fractured elbow make you feel much more superior? Your word on Hogwarts' inevitable doom would never come to pass. I believe in my sister more than anything."

"Shut up with your useless talk, little Lin," Ismelda finally said. "If you don't have any other important stuff to say, leave. Beatrice and I have some Puffskeins to throw."

Hence, after a short glare shot at us, they resumed their dawdling over the school's inevitable doom.

Idiots, I couldn't help but think. They're just idiots, lording over everyone else with the mere thought of the school being in deep trouble whilst they waited it out like tyrants planning to overthrow a kingdom. And to have it start by torturing Puffskeins...I gently scooped up a few of them and brought them away to a safe corner, away from Beatrice and Ismelda. None of these little cuties had to withstand this kind of agony.

"Looks like we're hitting a dead end right now," Diego said to me with a shake of his head, spilling a couple more Puffskeins onto the ground.. "If they don't know where Sickleworth went, then who would?"

"It shouldn't be hard to find clues," I said. "If he was here raiding the feed bags, then he might have left another trail with them."

Little Em nodded in agreement, her eyes softening considerably now after that little spat with Beatrice. "We'll have to be fast about it, too," she simply murmured. "With an injury like this, I might need to visit the hospital wing soon."

So the three of us headed into the little shed and quickly went through the feed bags together, rummaging through all the tools as well that we'd normally look through during class to take care of various creatures. As we did, I couldn't help but glance over at Diego and Em--at one point, I thought I saw Diego grasp onto little Em's hand and look at her in the eye. Something told me that they must have grown very close, but how, and when?

I didn't hold anything against Diego--we didn't know each other long, either--but the fact that he and my little sister actually grew close in such a short time...

Was there something going on between them?

"Guys, I found a trail of feed going back to the castle!" little Em finally announced, throwing away the ripped burlap sack she was holding and gesturing for us to follow. Indeed, she was right, and I soon saw the little fine grains of feed creating a little path out of the paddock. "If we follow that trail, it could lead us to the Niffler."

"And Rakepick," I added under my breath.

"Em, I think you'd better see Madam Pomfrey about your arm," Diego said, glancing over at little Em who still cradled her elbow close to her, the other hand holding onto the Puffskein Ismelda threw at her. "I had no idea a powerful Knockback Jinx could actually cause such an injury."

"Me neither," I said with a nod. "That just makes Merula's bullying look like child's play."

"Maybe because Eunice is vying for the title more than Merula. Who knows? Or she's just trying to be her own kind of terrifying, too," little Em said with a sigh, wincing again at the pain. "I hope she doesn't want me dead by the end of the year."

How similar they sounded to the thoughts I once had with Merula in my first year.

"Don't worry. I'll continue looking for Sickleworth," I reassured her. "You need to get some help about your arm."

"But Clara--"

"Em, it’s okay. I can handle this. I'll catch up."

Without another word, little Em and Diego went back to the castle, and as they turned the corner I swore I saw Diego wrap an arm around her protectively. I didn't want to ditch my sister's help this early on, but she needed help more than I do, and I wasn't a skilled Healer. But something in the way Diego was acting toward my sister, almost as if he was her bodyguard...or--

"I'll come with you, Clara."

I turned around to see Beatrice approach me now, sweeping her blonde hair out of her eyes with her hand.

"You're going to leave Ismelda here to wait out Hogwarts' impending doom?" I asked her skeptically. "Besides, I thought you told my sister to tell me not to get involved with your business."

"You and my sister. But I suppose since you're the only hope for the school..." Beatrice sighed and folded her arms in a manner almost akin to Merula. "Might as well see what we're getting ourselves into. If Rakepick's plotting something, I want to know--if only to rub it in to Penny that this school can't protect us."

If I had to be honest, Beatrice was the last person I wanted to get involved with anything Cursed Vault related considering how the last curse affected her to the point where she lost her old self. Well, everyone's lost their old selves now. I'd say we've all changed in some way or other with all that happened last year. But when the change came with a lifetime guarantee of pessimism and neglect, that's when we know just how permanent the aftermath of what caused the change could be, and no amount of therapy could help.

Perhaps in a way, I was thinking like Merula, too. With a bond severed like that, there was no way to tie them back together, because even if we did, the slit will always be there.

It was too late to talk Beatrice out of that mindset, though, as she dragged me back to the castle, a strong grip over my left forearm, the trail of feed at our feet.

Good Merlin, the things I get everyone into.

#we all screwed #everyone so screwed #hphm spoilers #year 6 spoilers #hogwarts mystery #etched engraved everlasting #hphm clara lin #hphm em lin #hphm diego caplan #hphm beatrice haywood #hphm ismelda murk #year 6 retell #my tags don't even make sense anymore rip

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kisskissrommie · 4 years

Text

Counting Stars

From Bandee Pakshee’s third anniversary. An edit of Counting Stars by OneRepublic as performed by Jennel Garcia.

♪♪ “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep♪ dreaming about the things that we could be♪” The Madame took the stage with just the occasional strum of accompaniment. She surveyed the room and inhaled, deep, of the festivity. “But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪ said no more counting Spinners♪ we'll be counting stars♪”

♪♪ “Yeah, we'll be counting stars♪” She flashed a grin and started tapping her foot. The band quickly swelled behind her, joining her.

♪♪ “I see this life like a swinging vine♪ to swing my heart across the line♪” She opened the hand and panned it across her field of view illustratively. “In my face is flashing signs♪ ‘Seek it out and ye shall find’♪” She and winked at an audience member. “Old, but I'm not that old♪ Young, but I'm not that bold♪” Mischief played on the thief queen’s features. “And I don't think the world is sold♪ on just doing what we're told♪”

♪♪ She held her hands in tight fists and a wave of sheer joy washed over her as she released them. “And I♪ feel something so right♪ doing the wrong thing♪” She looked almost sorrowful for a beat. “And I♪ feel something so wrong♪ doing the right thing♪” But the mischief returned in force. “I couldn't lie♪ couldn't lie♪ couldn't lie♪” The music hung. “Everything that kills me♪ makes me feel alive!♪”

♪♪ She grabbed the crystal hanging from a matanga lamp and used it to swing herself on its head. “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep♪ dreaming about the things that we could be♪” Rommie danced excitedly on its head. “But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪ Said no more counting Spinners♪ we'll be counting stars!♪” She blew a kiss to the crowd.

♪♪ “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep♪ dreaming about the things that we could be♪” She clasped her hands to her chest, a desperate look on her face. “But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪” she let out a heavy breath that made her whole body tremble. “Said no more counting Spinners♪” She slid down the statue’s trunk. “We'll be♪—we'll be counting stars♪”

♪♪ Rommie landed on the stage without missing a beat. “I feel this love?♪” She clapped her hands, striking plates in her gloves. “And I feel it burn!♪” She started to dance with the flame in her hand. “Down this river every turn♪ Hope is our four-letter word♪” She gave another audience member a knowing smile as she passed. “Make that money♪” she clapped with each word: “Watch it burn♪”

♪♪ “I’m old♪ but I'm not that old♪” She reached out to the audience. She wanted their revelry ignited by her unbridled hope. “I’m young♪ but I'm not that bold♪” She waved dismissively. “And I don't think the world is sold♪ on just doing what we're told♪” Rommie sheepishly kicked at nothing as if this was a grave confession. “And I♪ feel something so right♪ doing the wrong thing♪”

♪♪ “I couldn't lie♪ couldn't lie♪ couldn't lie♪” She eyed the crowd playfully. “Everything that drowns me♪ makes me wanna fly!♪” Wind swirled around her as she let Enaero wrap her hands, small blades channeling to storm. “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep♪ dreaming about the things that we could be♪” She twirled the windstorm weapons. “But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪ Said no more counting Spinners♪ we'll be counting stars♪”

♪♪ She tossed the air-charged weapons and they fragmented, falling back down as shards that cast small gusts where they landed. “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep♪ dreaming about the things that we could be♪” Rommie knelt in front of the crowd. “But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪ Said no more counting Spinners?♪” she stood up, smiling with hope. “We'll be♪—we'll be counting stars!♪”

♪♪ Rommie walked to the edge of the stage as the music fell away, slowly crossing it in front of the crowd. She rallied them as she went, encouraging them to join in the repetition with her: “Oh, take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I've learned♪” She winked as she passed. “Take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I've learned♪”

♪♪ An energy began to build as she paced before the audience. “Take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I've learned♪” She found her way to the building energy, keeping her back to the audience as she reached into the light. “Take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I've learned♪” Silence fell in the performance hall.

“Everything that kills me,” she exhaled, heavy and burdensome, “makes me feel alive.”

♪♪ She practically tore the light open, combining the magical pyrotechnics with her own Enholy. It cascaded around her, over her. “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep♪ dreaming about the things that we could be♪ But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪” Adding layers to the magical lightshow, starlight filled the room. “Said no more counting Spinners♪ we'll be counting stars!♪”

♪♪ “Lately, I've been, I've been losing sleep!♪” Her tone took on the power of declaration, maybe even prophecy? Certainly, that was the aim at least. “Dreaming about the things that we could be♪” She beckoned to the audience, making them all, for the moment at least, the ‘baby’ she sang to. “But, baby, I've been, I've been praying hard♪ Said no more counting Spinners♪” She dramatically snapped her fingers, causing another burst of holy light. “We'll be♪—we'll be counting stars!”

♪♪ She chanted again, the audience (or at least the people she planted in it) chanting alongside her. “Take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I learned♪ Take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I learned♪ Take that money watch it burn♪ Sink in the river the lessons I learned♪” She dispelled the performance magic and accompaniment both and lowered her head.

“Take that money watch it burn. Sink in the river the lessons I've learned.”

#Rommie Sings #Counting Stars #Bandee Pakshee anniversary

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neverwatchedonepiece · 6 years

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529-530: "The Fish-Man Island Will Be Annihilated?! Sharley's Prophecy!" and "The King of the Fish-Man Island! Neptune, the God of the Sea!"

A rare image of Hordy Jones stepping on a lego.

Only had time for two episodes tonight. Luckily, there was enough in them to write about: including the reveal of a villain (always exciting!)

His name is Hordy Jones. He is angry, he is a Fishman, he looks oddly like the guy from ACDC and he has... a dog slung round his neck?

Not to mention the prophecies, designer boutiques, royal invitations and awkward questions.

Dreams Do Come True in Fishman Island

The episode opened with Luffy, Usopp and Chopper rushing around the harbour town, looking for a human - any human - who could donate Sanji’s blood type.

Luckily, a pair of nice okama stepped up and saved Sanji’s life. Of course, when Sanji regained consciousness, he freaked out. Usopp and Chopper both had to remind him to thank the okama. Come on, Sanji. Not cool. They saved your life in a place where donating blood is an act of great political significance. Show a little gratitude, eh?

While taking a break from Sanji’s fool antics, Chopper examined a strange mark on Luffy’s arm. Turns out it was poison! Luffy took a hit from Hyouzou (how did I miss that?) Chopper declared it very potent and wondered how the hell Luffy survived it. He asked if Luffy had ever been poisoned before.

Oh boy, Chopper. Does Luffy have a story for you. It can be told in one word: Magellan.

(Seriously, though, did Luffy not tell the Strawhats what happened to him while they were sailing, or was it all so next level that being poisoned to near death was not one of the major highlights?)

Camie, who had come to see how Sanji was doing, took Luffy and Usopp back to the Mermaid Cafe dorms. On the way, they called in to see Madame Sharly: a beautiful shark mermaid with premises at the back of Mermaid Cafe. (I think she might own the cafe because she gave Camie the day off to show the Strawhats round Fishman Island?)

Not Unless You Play the Lottery

Oh, and she is also a dab hand at crystal ball fortune-telling and has been since she was little. She has correctly predicted a few cataclysmic events, including the war in Marineford and Whitebeard’s death. Recently, she’s stopped using the crystal ball because she can’t stand knowing bad things will happen. I suppose Whitebeard is the kind of guy that would go to war no matter what. I can’t see anyone convincing him otherwise, even if it was someone like Sharly, who knew he’d be killed in battle.

I wonder if she’s been burned before by using the crystal ball? She was all dramatic and stared off into the middle distance when she said, “It’s better not to know the future.” Something has clearly gone wrong in her life that she has that attitude to such a strong power.

Luffy, who seems to be living on another planet at the moment, said, “All very well and good but do you know how mermaids poop?”

That’s right, Luffy. Always asking those important questions!

It was round about then that Camie realised she’d forgot to deliver the clams to Pappagu! So they hurried off to find him at another, fancier cafe up in Fishverly Hills (lol), where they found Brook, aka Soul King, living it up with Pappagu and a couple of mermaid fans. (I love how famous Brook is in his own right and not just as a member of the Strawhats.)

There was a lot of good world-building here. Courtesy of Pappagu, who tried so hard to be a Good Exposition Starfish (why won’t anyone listen to him?), I now know that Merpeople don’t eat meat and fish (but Fishmen do). That King Neptune runs the Island. That, if a Merperson and Fishman marry and have kids, any children they have will either be a Merperson or a Fishman, not a harmonious amalgamation of both.

And the good news is that the Flying Dutchman/Captain Vander Decken stuff was not a random encounter character to be used once and disposed of! Not sure what his role will be yet, but Oda seems to have something planned, as he has been given backstory. Turns out Brook was right about the original Flying Dutchman crew being several hundred years old, but the original Captain Vander Decken reached Fishman Island and died there. The one manning the Flying Dutchman now is Vander Decken IX, his descendant. Apparently, the guy has a bounty and the whole island’s been looking for him for ages because he started sending unwanted love letters, packages and threatening marriage proposals that scared the princess to the point a warrant was issued for his arrest.

Looks like someone can’t take no for an answer, eh?

But the most interesting thing was this.

Big Momma’s House

Luffy noticed the sign on a candy factory. Pappagu explained that when Whitebeard had shuffled off his mortal coil, the role of Fishman Island Protector became vacant.

The position was filled by Charlotte Linlin (or Big Mom, to the rest of us): one of the four (now three) Yonkou. She hasn’t been mentioned since Thriller Bark, so I was excited for that miniscule teaser Oda gave.

Big Mom demands loads of candies as a fee for her protection. This confused Luffy. “But she’s protecting this land after old man Whitebeard died? Isn’t she a good person?”

Pappagu shrugged, as only starfish can. “Whitebeard didn’t demand anything, but maybe Big Mom sees protection more as a business.”

Interesting... she’s definitely a different kind of Yonkou.

But I didn’t have time to think about it for long because the action switched to Sharley, who had burst out onto the street, freaking out about Luffy, begging everyone she could grab hold of to “find Strawhat Luffy and throw him out of this country!”

Wait, what...? Wasn’t she happy to see them ten minutes ago? Why? What had caused the change of heart?

Apparently, she saw a vision of Luffy in her crystal ball: an image of him surrounded by fire. “At Strawhat’s hands, Fishman Island will be destroyed!”

Eh? Surely not. There has got to be some mistake here. There is no way Luffy would sink Fishman Island. Or at least not on purpose. That is the only way I could believe Sharley’s vision would ever come true.

Hmm....

This Guy Is So Hard, He Puts Sharks in Sweaters

Cliffhanger over, I steamed straight onto episode 530. After a dark and mysterious opening (more on that later), the action cut back to the Strawhats. Pappagu was explaining his job. Turns out he’s not just an adorable starfish on land: in Fishman Island, he is a Super Influencer: a rich designer and president of the Criminal Brand clothing company - a famous fashion line.

As they approached one of his shops, the Strawhats heard some serious, weapons-grade haggling within.

Of course it was Nami!

The harassed shopkeeper was pleased to see Pappagu. This lasted until his boss told the Strawhats they could have as much free clothing as they liked in return for saving his ass at Sabaody.

Pappag, that was a rookie mistake. Never tell pirates they can take as much free stuff as they want. THEY ARE PIRATES! xD

But that was not the only drama going down in Fishverly Hills. Outside, there was a commotion. The Strawhats, Camie and Pappagu went to check why everyone was shrieking.

King Neptune had arrived. The big, bearded, booming-voiced ruler of Ryugu Kingdom and Fishman Island. Golden rays of light bathed the spectators. I wondered why he kept mispronouncing the word “ham” in Spanish.

It was the first time Camie had ever seen him. The King only descended from the Upper World if there was trouble. He hadn’t brought guards. Very strange! Ryugu Palace is a sacred place for Fishmen. A celestial place where ordinary people aren’t allowed to go. Where the princes and princess live.

The King turned and said, “Oi, Megalo. Are you sure these are the guys?” When the cute, sweater-wearing shark popped out of nowhere and confirmed (I love that it has a name), King Neptune invited the Strawhats to Ryugu Palace.

“Is there good food there?” Luffy asked. Priorities, amirite?

“Of course. We’re planning a banquet,” Neptune answered.

Luffy couldn’t have accepted any quicker. He piled onto Neptune’s fishboat with Usopp, Nami and Brook, then looked back. “Aren’t you coming?” Camie and Pappagu were frozen in awe.

“We don’t deserve to go to Ryugu...”

That was the Wrong Answer. Rank and status does not impress or intimidate Luffy (and that’s one of the reasons I like him so much). He told them to stop being dumb and get on.

It’s funny how the rest of the Fishmen and Merpeople are so awed of Neptune, yet he was completely unbothered when Luffy invited some commoners to his house. Neptune is either more chilled than he seems, or he is up to something.

But not everyone is as enamored with King Neptune...

This Guy Is Not A Fan

This is the Fishman behind the New Fishman Pirates: Hordy Jones.

Now, I can’t help but compare this guy to Arlong. He’s a shark fishman and he has similar views to Arlong.

Hell, Arlong was the first real villain I took to in One Piece. The first real threat. He did horrific things. I’ll never forget that black and white scene when he shot Bellemere in the head. When Nami broke down and Luffy laid his straw hat on her head. Then there was the walk to Arlong Park. All those iconic moments.

Hordy Jones has big shoes to fill. It’s early yet, so I’ll wait until I’m further in to make any judgments. When I first watched Thriller Bark, I was kinda bemused by Moria, then he ended up one of my favourites.

This guy has got a hold of some Fishman Roids and likes necking a ton to gain super strength. Apparently, the Roids shorten lifespan but Hordy does not care. When a bunch of escapee human pirates were reported for desertion (they must have met Hammond and enlisted. Now I think I know why there haven’t been many visitors to Fishman Island lately!) Hordy ate a meaty fistful of those Fish Roids like they were candies someone had packaged up for Big Mom.

Then he swam off and deliberately crushed the deserters while handcuffed to show how strong he was. It was cool the way he punched through the ship like a cannonball. He also let the hapeless crew live because: “Humans killed Fisher Tiger and shattered Arlong’s dreams. The dark and tragic history of Fishmen Island will end with us, the New Fishmen Pirates. You humans, survive with cuts and bruises to show the people on earth what happened to you in the sea, and who you met. Tell them how horrendous it was. We’ll capture the centre of the world, Fishman Island, from the gutless god of the sea, Neptune, and drag you humans down to the dark sea bed. You’ll all learn that the Fishmen are the superior race.”

I can tell he’s ambitious, is this Hordy Jones.

Unfortunately, the very same humans who crushed Arlong’s dreams have just landed on Fishman island. And he knows it. I wonder what he’ll say to Luffy when he meets him. That should be an interesting conversation.

Oh yeah, and Caribou has escaped the barrel because some mermaids opened it. No idea what he’s up to now, but it won’t be anything good.

Say yes to drugs on Fishman Island!

#one piece #neverwatchedonepiece #nwop #never watched one piece #monkey d. luffy #usopp #tony tony chopper #sanji #brook #nami #hordy jones #camie #pappagu #sharly #king neptune #vander decken #big mom #charlotte linlin

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eternityunicorn · 5 years

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Love Me Apocalyptic: Part Three +18

Author: eternityunicorn

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Paring: Elijah Mikealson x OC

Warnings: Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: AU of an AU: Elijah Mikaelson and Eternity had been lovers centuries ago. Betrayed, he had thought that he would never see her again. However, in present time, she has returned with a purpose, intertwining their paths once more. Elijah hates Eternity for the past, but finds his addiction to her is still as profound as it had been before and he cannot fight it, leaving him in a complicated relationship with his former lady - in an apocalyptic love.

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

AUTHOR’S COMMENTARY: I’ve been kind of addicted to this new incarnation of this story. I’m actually already on part eight, as far as writing it goes! So, I’m very ahead of the game. It’s been very infectious and I haven’t been able to really focus on my other stories, but I am working on them slowly, but surely.

———————————————————————————————————

Elijah sat alone at the piano of the Saint James Infirmary jazz club. The place was empty, just how he preferred it. He played a mournful, sad tune to reflect the emotions swirling inside him. He was completely drained after the chaos, turmoil, and dysfunction his family had endured at the hands of one Aunt Dahlia, a powerful and merciless witch that had sought to kidnap Hope.

His relationship with Niklaus had been fractured, after Elijah had daggered him in order to protect Hope, believing his little brother had gone mad in his quest to defeat their deranged aunt. Then in an act of revenge, the hybrid had taken innocent Gia’s life.

He remembered their last encounter from earlier that day. She had come ready to fight, after she had heard about Josephine LaRue’s death, a casualty of Dahlia’s madness, but he had tried to get her to leave, fearing for her safety. Niklaus had been undaggered and he had wanted to protect her from suffering at his hand.

The last kiss they were to ever share was burned into his mind, as were his declaration of his affections for the beautiful violinist. He had let her go, let her leave the Mikaelson compound, like a fool. He had sent her right into his mad brother’s clutches.

Gia’s death still haunted him. Her burning body, her screams, her terrified face as she took off the daylight ring Niklaus had compelled her to remove, all of it flashing through his mind on repeat. He swore he would never forgive his brother for taking such an innocent life. Gia hadn’t deserve death. She had deserved to live.

At least, Hayley had escaped unscathed, despite her trying to spirit away Hope from the madness that was the Mikaelson family without Niklaus’s consent. She had been terrified of Dahlia and her plans for her daughter, as well as having begun to believe her husband had gone off the deep end with his secretive plans to counteract their foe, of which he had refused to share with anyone else because he refused to trust Freya. His paranoia had caused everyone to act accordingly, fearing the worst, trying to to the right thing.

Yet, despite her perceived transgression, Hayley had only been magically confined to the Mikealson compound or else she would turn into a werewolf should she attempt to leave. She hadn’t been sent to the bayou to suffer as a wolf nor torn from her daughter in any way. Truthfully, her punishment was quite lenient, in spite of the rage Niklaus had gone into when he had realized she tried to flee to safety without his approval.

His brother must have really loved her to temper his madness for her - to show her mercy.

Suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder and he immediately tensed under it. He ceased playing, but didn’t turn around. In fact, he remained perfectly still.

“Elijah,” called Eternity softly, mournfully.

Elijah let out the breath that he had been holding. Anger immediately began to course through him. His hands balled into fists on the piano keys, as he tried to keep it under control.

Where had she been?

In their weeks past meeting with Madame LaRue, the old woman had told them about the Hollow, the spirit of an ancient witch, whom was the epitome of evil. The dark creature had worshipers, whom had done it’s bidding since ancient times. These cultists were responsible for great travesties throughout history, such as wars, famines, and destruction all in the name of the Hollow. Furthermore, this evil entity was a master of possession, and it was concluded that the entity no doubt would want to possess Hope, whom was uniquely powerful because of her parentage. All this was according to the elderly witch.

Afterwards, Eternity had sworn to be there for Elijah’s niece, swearing her aid to them against the threat the vengeful spirit posed. Then she had vanished soon after, going off to do heroic deeds elsewhere in the greater universe or at least that was his assumption. Either way, she had been gone for weeks, when she should have been there, protecting Hope. She could have easily defeated Dahlia without incident. Everything could have been avoided with her powerful talents.

If she had been, then Elijah’s brotherly bond with Niklaus would still be intact. Gia, wonderful and talented Gia, would still be alive. None of the cursed Mikaelson dysfunction would have had to happen, if only Eternity had stayed to protected Hope as she promised she would.

Immediately he was off the piano bench and turned toward the ethereal woman, whom looked sympathetically at him. That look upon her sweet face only made his cool rage burn that much brighter. He grabbed hold of her neck and sped her into a nearby wall hard and unforgivingly.

Like that rainy night not that long ago, Eternity didn’t flinch or make a sound. Instead, she simply stared at him neutrally, not even putting up a fight as he held her firmly in his grasp and gazed threateningly down at her.

Despite his anger and his grief, he could feel his body call for hers. Just being so near her had him wanting her. Mourning his loss be damned. The memories of that rainy night flashed through his mind, making the desire that much more intense. Yet, he refused to break, refused to be so weak willed...this time.

But the temptation remained ever strong, no matter how he fought it. It tugged at him like a magnet, pulling him in, regardless of how he refused it’s influence.

“Where have you been?” Elijah quietly raged. “God damn you! Where have you been?”

“Forgive me,” she replied easily, seemingly unperturbed by his anger. “I was held up, but I am here now.”

He released and pushed away from her. “Yes, you are. However, I beg to question where were you three weeks ago? Two weeks ago? Where were you when we needed you? How dare you show up now, in the ashes of the devastation your absence as brought upon my family!”

“Unfortunately, my world does not revolve around your family,” she replied calmly. “I have other people who need me too. Besides, I am not the one at fault here. That honor belongs to Niklaus. It was by his hand that poor Gia needlessly died, why you were driven to move against him. If he had simply accepted Freya, instead of mistrusting her, then he’d have shared his plans with you and you would have worked together to stop Dahlia. Do not blame me, blame him.”

Elijah’s eyes narrowed on her, “How did you know?”

“Have you forgotten?” She responded. “I can see into your past. Although, in this case, it was Niklaus’s past I peered into. I visited the compound first, before seeking you out. Again, I am sorry that I was not here to help.”

He stared for a moment, before angrily turning away with one hand shoved into his pants pocket and the fingertips of the other rubbing over his lower lip in contemplation. She was right, of course. It was all Niklaus’s fault, despite her capabilities to change the tides. It wasn’t her whom killed Gia, whom imprisoned Hayley, whom behaved like a cruel bastard. Yet, he wouldn’t dare admit it out loud. He was simply too stubborn.

“Elijah,” called Eternity softly.

He was not in the mood to hear whatever else she had to say. Instead of turning back to face her, Elijah simply left the jazz club.

He returned home to his cold and empty loft, where he continued to live, because of fractured his family. He couldn’t yet return to his family home. Immediately upon coming back to his dwellings, he poured himself a drink and went to stand at the window, trying to calm his nerves and cool his blood after his encounter with Eternity.

How she affected him so! It was frustratingly maddening!

So caught up in his stormy thoughts, the very ones he tried hard to not think about, Elijah didn’t sense the ethereal beauty appear behind him. He was startled out of his thoughts by her gentle call of his name.

Though he hadn’t expected her, he couldn’t say that he was surprised that Eternity had followed him. If he were perfectly honest, part of him had a feeling that she might, especially with the insist way she had called his name before he had left, as if she had something to say to him.

Elijah didn’t turn to look at her, unsure he was strong enough to stare into her sweet face without breaking. His strange desire for her was still too profoundly powerful at the moment. In fact, he didn’t dare to even speak. Any words that he might have said died before they could leave his mouth anyway, leaving him to simply wait for her to say whatever she needed to.

“Forgive my intrusion,” she told him softly, “but I need to speak with you.”

Elijah remained silent and ever still.

Eternity sighed and pressed on, “I understand that you’re still angry with me for the past, and that you struggle to trust me, but I am here with news - another prophecy of sorts.”

That caught his attention and he turned toward her to ask, “Another?”

“Aye,” she nodded. “I have had another premonition. Your family is to be threatened by another enemy, a precursor to the one of the Hollow. I am here to warn you of it, to aid your family in this warning. Old friends are coming to call, but be careful as none of them are truly friend, but foes in disguise. A prophecy of doom is to draw them out; a war, a struggle, all for the sake of self preservation.”

Elijah didn’t understand, “Elaborate.”

“I cannot. In truth, I shouldn’t have even said as much as I have, but I wanted to make up for my absence,” she replied, almost timidly. “I cannot promise I will be here always for the trial ahead, but I will do my best to help you lot through this; though remember well that it is your fight, not mine, and my aid will be limited. I am not here for your family dramas. My true mission is to protect Hope and the world from the Hollow, nothing more, nothing less. So, please be on your guard in the days ahead.”

Elijah stared at her. Part of him appreciated that Eternity was willing to come warn him of things to come for his family, especially knowing well that she didn’t have to. She could have let him and his flounder in their own trials, but here she was offering her help to them, despite knowing how villainous Niklaus could be, despite how angry he himself was toward her. Surely, she could have rid the world of the notorious hybrid and his family, whom had left nothing but bloodshed and destruction in their wake, by letting whatever was coming come. Yet, she was not. She was helping them instead.

Even so, another part of him was still hung up on the past, on her betrayal. She had aided them in the past too, but betrayed them in the end anyway. Eternity had claimed to care then as well. She had said she loved them - loved him.

The anger that had been calmed by her promise to help came back full force. Elijah couldn’t let her fool him into believing in her, into forgiving her.

Licking his lower lip, he schooled his face into an emotionless mask as he curtly said, “Thank you for your kind gesture, it is appreciated, but I think you should leave.”

Elijah watched as her face fell at his cool dismissal of her. He tried to not let it affect him, as he moved from the window and went around her toward the front door. He made it halfway there, when her next words stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Elijah,” she said barely above a whisper. “Must you continue to hate me so for what happened so long ago? Regardless of what happened, I am not your enemy. Can you not see that?”

That caused him turned back and with a few long strides, he had Eternity wrapped in his embrace harshly with his mouth latched onto hers in anger fueled passion. He roughly pulled her bodily against him as he plundered her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness, remembering it well.

“Anyone who hurts my family, past or present, is my enemy,” he pulled back and growled at her viciously, before his mouth reattached itself to hers in heated passion.

Despite his punishing grasp of her, Eternity reciprocated eagerly, running her hands through his short brown locks as he kissed her breathlessly. They moved downward over his neck, gripping him firmly there.

Without words, Elijah lifted Eternity up so that her legs wrapped securely around his waist. He sped into a nearby support column, slamming the pale beauty into it. His tongue continued to dance in her mouth greedily and with his body holding her up, his hands freely ran over her silk clad form and onto the smoothness of her legs that were curled around him.

“God, I despise you,” he growled venomously against her lips, before pulling back again to look at her sweet face that gazed at him neutrally, in spite of his cruel declaration.

“If you must,” Eternity groaned in response, her sapphire eyes flashing with a mix of sadness and her own desire for him.

A brief pause of stillness fell between them as they gazed at each other lustfully and then his mouth was upon hers again, devouring her hungrily. All the while her hands began to claw at his clothing, practically tearing his tie from around his neck and then urgently pulling his suit jacket from his shoulders. He aided her in removing it completely by swiftly shrugging out of it, while her hands tore open his shirt. Buttons flew everywhere, but neither of them cared.

Eternity ran her hands over the exposed skin of his chest, before pushing the ruined material off his shoulders, much like she had done with his jacket. He aided her with that too, practically tearing the fabric from his body, as he then moved to lay open mouthed kisses to her jaw and then her neck, nipping and suckling at the flesh as he went. She gasped and writhed in response, her hips rocking against him needfully.

“Please...Elijah,” she moaned as he licked along her neck upward, before capturing and suckling on her earlobe. “Please!”

Moments later, he released the lobe and pulled back to gaze at her. He smirked at how needy she seemed. Eternity’s eyes were ablaze, her chest heaved, her nails clawed at his shoulders and neck, all in want of him. She look d absolutely feral and it was enough to fill him with male pride, knowing it was he who made her this way.

Unable to resist driving her even more mad, Elijah let one hand slip between their bodies to touch her intimately between her legs. He groaned at the warm wetness that had collected there, stroking over her clit and then dipping a pair of his fingers inside her, thrusting them in and out repeatedly. He watched Eternity’s wild reaction as he alternated between stroking her clit and thrusting inside her, until the ethereal beauty was bucking wildly against him, breathlessly pleading with him to finish her.

Once he felt her walls begin to flutter around his digits did he cease and cruelly pulled away completely. He enjoyed the way she groaned in frustrated disappointment and the way the fire in her eyes increased tenfold as they locked onto his. He enjoyed the blaze of her passion very much. Then to further it, he took the fingers that had been playing between her thighs and sucked them into his own mouth to taste her sweetness, licking them clean with his eyes upon her the whole time.

“Hmm, you taste divine,” he murmured, once he had successfully cleaned them of her juices.

Eternity moaned at his seduction, before she grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him to her, kissing him for all he was worth. Her tongue pried open his mouth and dove inside to taste him for a change. She moaned again at the flavor she found there, no doubt tasting herself upon his tongue as she sampled him.

While she kissed him urgently, his hands ran over her still clothed body, growling at the hindrance that kept him from her bare flesh. Immediately, to remedy the problem, Elijah took the flimsy fabric into his hands and tore the blue maxi dress she wore cleanly in two. Tossing the scraps aside, he let his hands wander her now bare form, touching everywhere he could, including her soft breasts, while he kept her pinned to column.

Before long, the need became too much for the both of them. With vampire speed, he moved them to the large bed, where he tossed Eternity carelessly upon it. Using that same superior speed, the rest of his clothes were done away with him moving like a predator ready to devour his prey as he crawled over her fully bare. He took a moment to brush back her hair from her face, before kissing her lips punishingly.

Elijah let his mouth wander from her lips, down her throat, over her breasts, and then down her stomach, listening to her pants and rapid heart beats all the while. He paused just at her mound, grinning at her wickedly, before ascending back up her body until he could reach her mouth.

Eternity groaned in disappointment.

He only grinned and chuckled cruelly at her.

The ethereal woman growled in response, before pulling Elijah closer with her legs winding around his hips tightly. She kissed him brutally, as she nudged him even closer. “Inside me,” she quietly hissed in command, reaching between them to stroke his hardened length seductively.

He needed no further encouragement. He swiftly pulled her hand from his cock, pinning it to the bed. Letting his mouth descend upon hers again, he kissed her lips passionately and then trailing them down her jaw to her neck. All the while, he moved into position, rubbing his cock over her slick heat teasingly, before he finally joined their bodies with one hard thrust.

Eternity gasped at the intrusion which turned into a loud moan. To keep herself grounded she let her hands rake through his hair and then down his back as he wasted not a single moment in bringing them both exquisite pleasure. His thrusts were not soft and gentle. No, they were instead hard and fast, full of animalistic need, as he rocked into her willing body harshly.

He didn’t want to think or feel anything but her body wrapped so perfect around him. He wanted to be lost to the carnal passion, to the angry punishment he brought down upon her body.

Elijah buried his face in her neck as he slammed into her over and over again. The hand that had pinned hers to the bed laced their fingers together as he held on. The feeling of her wet heat was as wonderful as he remembered.

Then there was the burning sensation of her nails on the hand left free to wander as they scratched down his back, the wounds she inflicted healing immediately. The pain and the pleasure drove him on, rocking into her even harder than before until they were both thoroughly drunk on the incredible high.

It wasn’t long before Eternity was chanting his name over and over again, becoming louder and louder the higher she climbed. She began to pant with exertion as she moved with him, holding him even tighter to her as she came closer and closer to falling over the edge. Her nailed continued to rake his back mercilessly all the while, causing him to hiss in pained pleasure.

Feeling the end nearing for himself, he started to move at an even faster pace. He didn’t care about how rough he was being. He simply carried on, slamming into her over and over again at an unforgiving pace. Elijah was blind to everything except the rising pleasure, the coming end.

The vicious way he took her must have acted like a trigger because moments later he felt her walls contract around him, squeezing him for all he was worth as she screamed in ecstasy as her orgasm took hold. Her end triggered his and his trust became erratic until he finally spilled into her with a muffled shout.

Elijah stilled and slumped onto Eternity’s body, unable to keep himself up. She took his weight without a protest, holding him closer with one hand stroking his hair. The chaotic atmosphere of animalistic eroticism gave way to one that was relaxing and peaceful in the afterglow. Her actions were full of love and caring, reminding him of all the other times she had done the same - from that bygone era.

It stirred things in him that he didn’t want to remember, that he didn’t want to know or acknowledge.

He lifted himself up just enough to gaze down into her sweet face while Eternity stared back almost lovingly, but not quite. Surprising even himself, he brushed back her hair again and laid a chaste kiss to her lips as he did, before pulling back as if he had been burned when he realized what he had just done. He buried his face in her neck to hide from her wondering expression.

They didn’t speak in the aftermath, only rested in slightly awkward silence.

Elijah couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had lost control over himself yet again, unable to resist the temptation that was Eternity. He tried to chalk it up to an act of weakness due to his grief and loss and stress from all the turmoil of the past few weeks. Yet, he knew he was lying to himself. That it wasn’t any of those things that drew him in, that made him weak for the ethereal woman.

It was something else, something that he knew well - that had never gone away with time - but that he refused to acknowledge.

They remained still until Elijah was ready to have the pale beauty all over again. Even though he claimed to hate her, this time, he took her slowly, with tenderness, almost lovingly.

As he moved unhurriedly, he whispered in Eternity’s ear, “I swear to god, I hate you. So very, very much.”

“Perhaps,” she whispered back, “but perhaps not.”

Elijah felt his heart skip at her vaguely knowing words, but still stubbornly refused to give the feelings and thoughts her words invoked the time of day.

No, he simply rejected them.

To Be Continued....

———————————————————————————————————

Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @elejahforever @xanderling @hawaiianohana15 @missnmikealson @phoenix-potter-bailey @lolelijahishot @x-memi12 @iamaquarius2 @echosnowflake666 @scarlettsky0998 @zillahvathek @elijahandkollover @mikaelsonwetdreams @elizamonet

#elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies #original character #elijah x eternity #romance #drama #alternate universe #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction

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terreisa · 6 years

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The Savior and The Scoundrel: Should I Stay or Should I Go

Emma has had a few titles attributed to her in her life: princess, captain, pirate but none sat so heavily on her shoulders as Savior. When fate forces her to step into the role prophesied before her birth the only saving she wants to do is to bring back the man she loves. Fulfilling the Prophecy along the way is an additional reward. Sequel to A Crown and A Captain.

Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13

ff.net, AO3

“I don’t see why I can’t just go ashore by myself! You said we don’t have to worry about Zelena anymore, right?”

“Just because we don’t have to worry about her doesn’t mean there aren’t hundreds of other ways to get into trouble. Especially when you have no clue how anything in this land works.”

Emma watched Marty and Turner argue with little interest. She didn’t have much interest in anything at all but she was trying to put on a good show for everyone else. They were treating her as though she were moments away from a breakdown but she only felt numb. It was easier to act as though her world hadn’t imploded with a false smile than staring blankly out at the water waiting for another pointless day to end.

Nearly a week had passed and it was the first time she had emerged above deck since the day Zelena had told her the awful truth about the curse. Emma had stayed holed up in her quarters for the first few days, only emerging to give Turner the order to sail the Jewel into the town’s harbor. There had been a small snowstorm not long after she’d given the order and she tried not to think of it as a sign of some sort. The next day they had moored the Jewel in an empty berth with little fanfare. She’d forced herself to remain below deck in order to resist the temptation of going to Killian to explain everything. It was also an attempt to keep herself from returning to Gold’s shop to try and see if she could discern if he was truly a heartless Dark One or not.

It was currently the morning of their second day anchored in the harbor and she had reluctantly emerged on deck when she had heard raised voices. Discovering that Marty was simply having another fit about having to stay on board had irked her at first, mostly because she had been forced to leave the confines of the lower decks. She was about to escape back down into her quarters when she heard someone shouting for permission to come aboard.

Exchanging a shocked look with both Marty and Turner she quickly walked to look over the port side rail to the docks below. She did nothing to hide her frown when she saw that it was Walsh standing there.

“Ah, good to see you Miss White!” He called up to her with an insincere grin. “I’d like to speak to the, uh, captain of this boat.”

“It’s a ship and you are,” she said back, leaning her hip against the rail and crossing her arms. “What can I do for you Sheriff?”

“Can I come up? I’d prefer not to keep shouting at you, especially with the matter we need to discuss-” he said, his grin mellowing into a stern look.

She gave him a terse nod and his grin bloomed again as he began to climb the gangplank. As much as she didn’t want him on her ship she was even less willing to step off the Jewel herself. Moments before his head appeared over the rail she heard the sounds of others emerging from below. With a sigh of frustration she turned to find that everyone was grouped below the helm, watching Walsh step on deck. She heard his surprised intake of breath and rolled her eyes before turning back to address him.

“Welcome aboard the Jewel, Sheriff,” she drawled, lazily waving her arm to present the ship. She then waved over her shoulder, “This is my crew.”

“Ah-” Walsh’s eyes roamed over the deck and those at her back, wide and with seemingly reluctant respect. “Can we, uh, maybe go somewhere a bit more private?”

“I’m going to have to say no. The last time I had a private conversation with you you threatened me before forcing me to choose between saving my own hide or Jones’,” she said with a raised brow. “I think wanting a few others hear what you have to say to me is understandable.”

Walsh bristled, his jaw ticking and his hands clenching into fists at his side. There was a low chuckle behind her that she believed was Roland but didn’t want to look to be sure. They still weren’t on the best of terms even in light of recent revelations. That he was showing his support of her, in the smallest of possible ways, had her squaring her shoulders, ready to square off against Walsh as long as was needed.

“I received a call this morning from the harbormaster,” Walsh grit out. Then, unexpectedly, his eyes lit up with malicious glee, “He reported that a boat, oh sorry, ship had docked without permission or payment. Thought I might take a gander and lo and behold it’s something that belongs in a museum and it’s supposedly yours. Am I to believe you sailed this here? I mean, you did say that Jones had picked you up in Portland, right?”

“She is mine and of course I sailed her here,” Emma spat back, incensed at his condescending tone. “Since you can’t even seem to believe that much can you blame me for telling you something your small mind would find easier to understand?”

“Watch your tone Miss White!” Walsh snapped. “You wouldn’t want to go back to the station in cuffs now would you?”

“I’d like to see you try,” she said with a smirk, resting her hand on her hip, a finger width away from the hilt of her sword.

“Now now, that could be seen as threatening an officer,” he rebuked with a disapproving click of his tongue. He placed his hands on his own hips, revealing a leather harness with what appeared to be a small black firearm holstered in it, “We don’t want things to get messy here. How about you come back to the station with me and we can sort this all out like civilized folks.”

“Wouldn’t she take it up with the harbormaster?” Regina asked, the sneer evident in her voice.

“If I wanted your input Ms. Mills I would have asked for it. Come along Miss White.”

“I thought I told you to leave them alone.”

“Madam Mayor!”

Walsh spun around so fast that Emma wondered if he had been trained to do so at the sound of Zelena’s voice. For her part she merely rolled her eyes and blew out a frustrated breath as the woman appeared over the rail. She gazed longingly at the hatch leading down to her quarters, resigning herself to dealing with the two people in the whole town she wanted to interact with the least.

“I never gave you permission to board,” Emma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“As if you wouldn’t make me wait a god awful amount of time for it,” Zelena scoffed. She looked at Walsh, “Baum isn’t there a jaywalker you need to scold or some school children that need to be scared straight?”

“Er, no but there was a complaint-”

“Miss White and her… companions have brought their ship here at my request for the Founder’s Day festivities. Which is why I’m here-” Zelena gave her a wide, beaming smile. “I believe we had an appointment?”

“Madam Mayor-”

Zelena’s eyes slid to Walsh and when she spoke it was with a quiet fury, “I believe I told you to go.”

Emma couldn’t see his face but from the way his shoulders stiffened she knew he wasn’t taking kindly to the order. She half expected him to argue further with the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Instead he threw her a disdainful look over his shoulder and stormed off the ship, seemingly murmuring to himself the entire way.

“Ever since you showed up he’s started getting a mind of his own,” Zelena sighed. She frowned as her eyes scanned the deck, “I thought you’d have a… better crew put together. Then again the one you had before was hardly a good effort so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Tell me what you’re doing here, now, or you can get the hell off my ship,” Emma snapped.

“Not out here where practically everyone within earshot can hear us. Especially when there is more than one person in this town who shouldn’t hear what I have to say,” Zelena said with a roll of her eyes.

Emma could practically feel the others tensing behind her, ready to argue over one thing or another. Not wanting Walsh to turn back or attract the attention of any passerby she threw a glare over her shoulder at her unhappy crew. She turned back to Zelena and indicated the hatch leading down to the lower decks.

“After you.”

With a look of disgust curling her lip Zelena climbed down into the ship. Emma went to follow and saw disappointment looking back at her from nearly everyone else. In a bizarre twist Regina was the only one who wasn’t. Instead she was looking down into the bowels of the ship with a mixture of awe and disgust. As she stepped down into the dim bowels of the ship Emma could only hope that someone wouldn’t end up with some kind of injury before too long.

They ended up settling in the galley. She’d had a passing thought of leading Zelena into her cabin but it was too personal and with the way the others had followed her it wasn’t large enough to hold them all. As it was they had to cram themselves around the table with Roland and Turner forced to stand back by the doorway as there weren’t enough chairs. Zelena scowled at her but Emma merely scowled back and settled back in her chair.

“Alright, we’re here where no one can hear us. What do you want?”

“Did you have to allow the peanut gallery to join us?” Zelena sniffed, obviously annoyed at the company.

“It’s either that or I escort you off the ship,” Roland growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If I had my magic I’d turn you into one of my monkeys just to watch you dance.”

“Stop threatening my crew or I’ll help him throw you overboard,” Emma said, glaring at Zelena and trying not to smile at the thought of tossing her into the freezing harbor. “I’m not going to ask again: Why are you here?”

“This is the first time you’ve deigned to show your face in week-” Zelena glared back, “and I need reassurance that you won’t be breaking the curse. There’s a lot at stake here.”

“Why should we even trust you? How do we know you’re not lying just to keep this warped reality you reign over in tact?” Regina snarled.

“Please, you think I warned you out of the kindness of my heart? Who do you think that beast will kill first if the curse is broken? I'm merely trying to save my own neck and if that means aligning myself with you then so be it,” Zelena huffed, looking as though she had just swallowed a lemon.

“Why his heart? Why any of this for that matter?” Regina asked, throwing her hands up in frustration. “You’d already beaten me, I was at your mercy and you had everything. You didn’t need to cast the curse.”

“Of course I did,” Zelena spat out. “He didn’t think I would do it for all the reasons you stated and more. I had to prove him wrong, show him that he had underestimated me, again. And I didn’t have everything, your face did. I had to fix that as well.”

“Unbelievable,” Regina scoffed. “I knew you were the jealous type but I had no idea you were this insane. When the Savior breaks the curse I’m going to enjoy watching him snap your neck.”

“She’s not going to break the curse,” Zelena said confidently. She smirked at Emma, “Not when she’s of the same ilk as her hero parents.”

“If we-” Emma hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “If we don’t break the curse then the people here will be miserable for the rest of their lives. They won’t ever remember who they were- are. They won’t know that they’re missing pieces of themselves, that there are people they lo-love that they think are nothing but another face they walk by day after day. Or worse they won’t know them at all. It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, princess, anyone who tells you different it just selling something,” Zelena said with a roll of her eyes. “You break the curse the darkest of Dark Ones wreaks havoc on every realm he can get his scaly carcass to. You don’t and people live blissfully ignorant lives where they don’t even know what the hell they’re missing anyway. I believe that should simplify your choice.”

“For someone without morals perhaps,” Grace murmured from her seat at the corner of the table.

“We can argue this round and round until we’re blue in the face but eventually you’ll have to decide,” Zelena said, pointedly glaring at Grace.

“I need more time-”

“You’ve already had a week!” Zelena growled.

“And I’ve spent over a year believing I was coming here to break the curse!” Emma snapped back, flames of anger licking up her spine. “I scoured our land for any clue as to what you did, where you could have sent everyone, and when I found something to lead me here I had to find a way to actually cross realms. For every second of every day since you cast the curse and up until this very moment I’ve had a prophecy hanging over my head, declaring me as a savior because for some reason I’m the one fated to break it. Then you come along and tell me in no uncertain terms that I can’t because you made a mistake that could cost us everything if I do. So forgive me if I need a little more fucking time to figure out what choice I’ll be able to live with.”

She was breathing hard, as though she’d just crossed blades with Zelena instead of words. Her hands were shaking violently but they were in her lap, hidden from most everyone’s view under the table. All eyes were on her, mostly in surprise at her outburst but she could see concern among them too. Keeping her focus on Zelena she was pleased to see that the woman was finally looking at her with a small measure of respect.

“Fine, whatever the princess wants I suppose,” Zelena said begrudgingly. Then after a pause she said, “There is, however, another matter we need to discuss.”

“What else do we need to talk about? I’m pretty sure I have nothing left to say to you,” Emma said, her voice somewhat hoarse.

“Then just listen,” Zelena said with a tinge of frustration. “There’s something I need you to get for me, something that we’ll need if you make the stupid decision to break the curse-”

“Alright, you need to go now,” Emma said shortly, the barely tamped down anger rising again.

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Zelena protested.

“I said go,” Emma growled, pointing a still trembling finger at the door.

“Fine,” Zelena huffed. She stood and held her head high, as though it was her decision to leave, “You should know that I wasn’t kidding about your motley crew participating in Founder’s Day. Festivities start at ten and I expect you to put on a good show. If you refuse I’ll give Walsh plenty of reasons to scour this boat from warped mast to mealy biscuit.”

Zelena pushed past Roland and Turner, leaving Emma gaping at her back as she left. She turned to Regina.

“What is she talking about?”

“It’s this ridiculous festival that everyone remembers happening every year because of the curse but no one’s actually been to,” Regina said, still gaping at the empty doorway. “It’s supposed to celebrate the founding of this stupid town with booths selling cheap homemade knick-knacks and historically inaccurate reenactments throughout the town. Someone always gets arrested for getting too drunk off the spiked cider and it ends when Zelena’s trumped up speech about harmony and prosperity in the town gets interrupted by one thing or another. Last year it we had a two for one when Jones drunkenly accused her once again of killing his brother. It took both Walsh and Archer to successfully drag him off the stage.”

“But that didn’t actually happen, right?” Emma questioned as Regina’s eyes snapped to hers in surprise. “You said this festival is just a false memory but you’re talking about it like it actually happened.”

“It… no… I remember-” Regina’s eyes had clouded over and her fingers were nervously tapping on the table. After a few seconds she blinked rapidly as her eyes cleared, “No, you’re right, it’s never happened. The cursed memories are stronger if they’re ones I haven’t been constantly trying to keep straight. You’ll probably have to give tours of the ship or at the very least come up with some lie about how a ship like this brought over the original settlers.”

“You mean make a mockery of us?” Turner said with distaste. “There’s a reason this ship is named the Jewel of the Realm. It’s not some mere pleasure vessel for entertaining the masses.”

“Newsflash, Blast from the Past, but ships like this are nothing but novelties in this realm,” Regina said testily. “Walsh already thinks there’s something going on here and we don’t need Gold getting any kind of idea what this ship and all of you really are. If Zelena said you’re going to be part of Founder’s Day she’s already told at least thirty people and each one of them have told thirty more. By Saturday you’ll have a crowd of people clamoring to get on board. There’s no choice here, it’s going to happen.”

“Is she doing this to torture us even more?” Roland asked in disbelief.

“Probably,” Regina said with a shrug. “She knows she has the upper hand for now. If Emma doesn’t break the curse we’ll have to play by her rules.”

“And if she does then we’re sentencing everyone to the whims of an untempered Dark One who we have no idea what he will do,” Grace sighed.

“What if we kill him first and then break the curse?” Marty piped up, clearly eager to be included.

“How might I ask?” Roland asked with a raised brow. “According to that witch the man is dead already. Our only hope would be the Dark One’s dagger but seeing as no one had seen hide nor hair of it while he was imprisoned I doubt we’d find it here.”

“Even if we did whoever killed him would become the Dark One,” Emma said with a bitter smile. She stood, her legs barely able to hold her up, “Although, it’s not the worst option on the table. I’d even volunteer to do it myself.”

The collective gasps were seemingly still echoing in the galley as she sped out, almost tripping over Turner’s feet in her haste to get away. Grace called after her but she kept moving forward. Finally she made it to her cabin, slamming the door behind her as her breath came in quick pants. The emotions she had pushed down had suddenly burst, pouring over her like a bottle of ale that had been shaken too vigorously.

Sliding to the floor she tried to reign everything back in but it was hopeless. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she gasped for air. Black spots erupted in her vision as the horrible choice Zelena had forced on her swirled in her head. Dropping her forehead to her knees she scrabbled for Killian’s ring, grasping it like a lifeline as she waited for the overwhelming feelings to subside.

Eventually her breathing evened out and she could hear the normal sounds of the ship over the pounding of blood in her ears. When she felt confident enough to stand she made her way to the table where only two things were resting upon it: her journal with her letters to Killian and the second of the two magic beans she’d found in Blackbeard’s hat. Sitting at the table she resumed staring at the two items, as she had been doing for nearly three days straight as she tried to decide what to do.

The sound of Roland’s voice broke through her musings.

“Planning on running away from it all then, are you?”

“The door was closed for a reason,” she answered without looking up, gently spinning the bean with her finger.

“I came to check up on you since you’ve been holed up in here for two hours.”

Emma glanced around and was surprised to see that her quarters were mostly in shadow from the afternoon sun. Roland was watching her warily and she sighed, turning her gaze back to the bean.

“Come to argue with me some more? Or are you here to try and convince me one way or the other about what I should do? Either way I’m not in the mood.”

“How about a drink instead?”

Looking up with a raised brow to see him produce a bottle of the darkest rum she’d ever seen and two pewter mugs from behind his back. With a shrug she nodded at the chair across the table from her as she sat back in hers. Uncorking the bottle with his teeth he poured out a generous measure of rum for the both of them, gently placing one of the mugs in front of her and then the bottle in the middle of the table before sitting down.

She picked up the mug and held it up for a toast, “To the lucky bastards living under the curse. At least they can sleep peacefully at night.”

“I don’t want to drink to that,” Roland said with a frown.

“Then don’t,” she said indifferently, downing her rum in one swallow. Shuddering slightly she poured herself another round, scowling at Roland as she did, “Where the hell did you get this from?”

“I, er, knicked it from Daniel’s cabin-” the tips of his ears began to turn pink and he quickly took a sip of his rum, coughing harshly after he swallowed.

“Daniel?” Emma repeated, confused until Roland flushed deeper and his eyes skittered away from hers. “Oh, is that Turner’s first name? Add that to the list of things I didn’t know. Although it does go to show that you’ve been so pissed at me that you decided to hide whatever it is you two are now.”

“Emma, it’s not like that,” Roland said, even as he still avoided looking at her.

“No?” She asked, scoffing in disbelief. She took another drink of her rum and uncurled a finger from her mug to point at him, “So if I were to ask Turner why neither of you said anything he won’t tell me that you asked him to?”

“He will, but not for the reason you think,” he said, finally looking at her. “I didn’t want to flaunt it in your face that we’re together when you can’t be with Killian the same way. It’s not fair that we found happiness when you’ve been given nothing but misery.”

“But you’re mad at me!” Emma blurted out, her hand dropping to the table causing some of the rum to splash over the sides of her mug.

“Not anymore. It’s hard to stay mad at someone when they’ve got the weight of the world on their shoulders,” Roland said with a shrug and a pained smile. The blush returned to his cheeks, “Daniel might have also pointed out that I wasn’t being fair or helpful by constantly badgering you about the curse when I’m not doing anything to actually help you break it.”

“If I decide to break it, you mean,” she pointed out.

With a less than steady hand she brought her cup back to her lips, downing the lot. Roland followed suit, coughing again as he reached for the bottle. He poured more into both of their mugs, lightly tapping the rims together when he picked his up.

“So is this your plan then?” He asked, looking pointedly at the bean in front of them.

“To run?” She nudged the bean with the bottom of her mug, “Not in the way you’re thinking and I don’t even know if I can bring myself to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll think I’m cruel.”

“I could tell you at least fifty different thoughts I’ve had that would have you thinking the same of me,” Roland said with a raised brow, sipping at his rum and only grimacing as he swallowed. “I promise not to judge.”

“I keep going back to two options, other than the ones Zelena forced on me. One: we somehow convince our family and friends to come on the ship-” Emma gripped her mug tightly. She wanted to slam the rum back as quickly as she had with the other two but knew she was well on her way to tipsy and she needed to have some of her wits about her as she finally told someone the thoughts that had plagued her. “We could use the bean to take us back home and we break the curse on them there.”

“Leaving the Dark one here, still cursed and somewhat safe,” Roland said with a nod, showing no sign of shock at her suggestion. “I take it Zelena would be left behind as well but so would-”

“So would scores of other innocent people,” Emma sighed, finally taking a sip. “Even if we could convince even half the people we want to save to board the Jewel can’t hold them all. Who are we to decide who gets to stay and who gets to go? And if we do how can we be sure the curse will break for those we take? Or if it does what if it somehow still breaks over here and the Dark One is freed anyway?”

“All valid questions,” Roland hummed, tapping his mug with a finger. “And the second option?”

“We use the bean to send Gold to a different realm. But then that brings up a whole different set of problems. What if he ends up somewhere that has magic? What if going through the portal somehow wakes him up? And again, if we break the curse here maybe it breaks it on him wherever we send him and he happens to be somewhere with magic. It’s even riskier than just breaking the curse here where we already know there’s no magic. At least that will stall him for a little bit-” Emma took a deep breath before continuing softly, “I’ve been going round in circles trying to figure out what to do.”

“I can see that,” Roland chuckled. “Did Marty’s suggestion ever occur to you?”

“To kill Gold and hope for the best? For about a minute in the dead of night until I realized that it was the worst option of all and I stayed awake until dawn because of it.”

“Have you slept at all?”

“When I’m not worrying about what to do,” she sighed.

“So… that would be not a wink,” he huffed.

“You and Turner? Exactly how long have you been spending time in his cabin?” Emma asked in a clear attempt at changing the subject.

Roland rolled his eyes but once again his blush belied him.

He took a small sip of his rum before mumbling into his mug, “Since the night after I ran into my father and Regina came on board.”

“Decided you needed to free up a bunk in the hold or was it you just couldn’t stand her that much?” Emma snorted. She raised her mug, “How’s this for a toast? To being with the one you want in order to get away from one of the bitches that ruined your life.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to say anything-” he gave a put upon sigh even as his lips were twitching and he raised his own mug. “Too bad Killian isn’t here with us. He’d gladly toast to that.”

They both drank their rum but Emma had to fight to keep it down. In the few moments where she wasn’t overwhelmed by the momentous decision she had to make she had nearly driven herself mad trying to figure out what she could possibly say to Killian. It was because of her desire to tell him everything and whisk them away to safety that she had first thought of the bean. Then her sense of obligation to her kingdom’s people and the guilt of even considering leaving them behind in favor of those closest to her had begun to trickle in and her thoughts had spiralled on and on from there.

There was one other option that she hated herself for even thinking and couldn’t bring herself to tell Roland even if he had thought it had been her plan for the bean. The worst part was that it was the most sensible and feasible of anything she had come up with but it was by far the most terrible of them all. They could simply weigh anchor and leave with only themselves on board, return to Misthaven with broken hearts but safer for it. She once more shoved the thought of it away, too painful to consider for more than a moment, and drained her mug for the third time.

“I get it, you know,” Roland said quietly. She gave him a puzzled look as he dropped his gaze to the rum he was swirling in his mug, “Why you’re having all these doubts and can’t bring yourself truly decide what to do. I didn’t at first, which is part of the reason I was so mad at you, but now I do.”

“So why? Why can’t I just choose and be done with it?” She whispered, not entirely sure of the reason herself.

“Killian,” he said with a matter of fact shrug. “He’s falling in love with you again-”

“You don’t know that,” she interrupted quickly, realizing she didn’t want to know why after all.

“True, but Daniel does.”

“What? How?”

Roland gave her an unimpressed look, “You sent Killian to find him right after taking off with that loathsome Walsh guy, did you expect them not to talk?”

“Well, no, but they’re strangers without his memories and they weren’t together that long,” she argued.

“You forget Daniel’s known Killian a lot longer than either one of us has. I guess even without his memories he’s behaving exactly the same as when he fell for someone back when he was younger,” he said with a sad smile.

“He told you about that? He wouldn’t say anything about her to me.”

Emma dropped her gaze, trying not to feel betrayed that Turner had told Roland about Jaqueline when he had all but refused to tell her. She knew it was because they were something more, that they were together, but it still stung all the same.

“He didn’t tell me anything either, not really-” Roland tapped his mug on the table to catch her attention. She looked up and he gave her a knowing look, “No need to be jealous, he just told me that he’s seen the way Killian is when he’s falling in love but it was different this time.”

“Why, because he’s already married and my being here has him feeling confused and guilty?” She drawled sarcastically, eyeing the bottle of rum.

“No-” Roland huffed, grabbing the bottle and pouring her a pitiful amount, “because you love him too and you’ll do whatever it takes to make him happy even if it makes you miserable. Which is why you can’t decide what to do about the mess we’re in. He’s unhappy and apparently vilified under the curse but he’s safe and if it breaks then he gets you and his rightful life back but then Dark One could just destroy it all with the snap of his fingers.

“And don’t tell me it’s the same argument you’ve been having with yourself concerning your father or Red or anyone else stuck in this town because it’s not. I may not have exactly what you do with Killian and it’s only been a few weeks but I know if it was Daniel I’d be right where you are now. Except I’d have probably broken out the rum a lot sooner.”

“Who says I haven’t,” she murmured. She looked up at him, doing nothing to keep her emotions from showing and was unsurprised that tears began to form, “What should I do?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his own eyes glassy. “I’m sorry Emma, but I don’t think this is something we can help you with.”

“Because I’m the Savior?” She asked with a warbling voice.

“Yeah,” Roland answered, looking as though he wished he was telling her the opposite.

Emma cleared her throat and gave him a shaky smile, “I hate that prophecy more and more by the way.”

“I'm sorry I was ever enthusiastic about it,” Roland said with a grimace.

“It's not like you knew what was going to happen,” she pointed out. “Can we just drink and talk about something else? Anything else, please?”

“Sure,” he said easily, pouring the rum until it was almost to the rim of her mug. “What about that Founder’s thing?”

“Ugh, not that either. How about being raised by the Merry Men? It has to be almost as interesting as faking my way into being a feared pirate captain.”

Roland laughed and launched into a story about being left in the care of Will Scarlet and Little John and escaping them both. Emma tried to keep her attention on the tale but her thoughts began to run away from her from everything her and Roland had discussed. She only hoped that the rum swirling through her veins would slow them down enough to finally get some rest, if not peace along with it.

It took nearly until the morning of the festival, two days later, for Emma’s hangover from her talk with Roland to dissipate completely. It wasn’t helped by the hoards of curious onlookers that circled the docks, shouting questions at her while she had a pounding headache, regarding their participation in the festival. With the crew’s reservations and her urge to not bow to Zelena’s whims Emma had nearly ordered them to return to the cove almost three times. The only thing that held her tongue was Regina’s suggestion that they require people to pay to board the Jewel during the festival, something that she assured her would irritate Zelena to no end.

Despite having only just gotten over her night of excess with Roland she nonetheless found herself eyeing the cabinet where she kept her liquor as she dressed for the day. With a sigh she focused back on fastening her vest correctly and trying to remember the story they would be telling the people who would be crawling across the Jewel’s deck like rats before she knew it. Regina had tried to convince her to say the ship was an integral part in the founding of the town but Emma had scoffed at that and stated that she was a pirate captain and that was exactly what the people would get. She hadn’t even bothered to hide her smile at Regina’s frustration and Turner’s distaste at her declaration.

The only somewhat good that was resulting from the festival was that between it and her recovery she hadn’t dwelled as much as she had previously on the decision she still had to make. In the few moments her thoughts would stray Roland would suddenly be at her side commiserating in their shared misery or Turner would be consulting her about the level of the stores in the hold and the state of the ship. She had appreciated their concern but no matter how hard they tried to distract her during the day the nights were consumed by nightmares of Killian blaming her for the decision she had yet to make.

“Emma, are you ready? There are already dozens of people waiting to board and they’ve been pacing the dock since daybreak it seems.”

Emma shook her head at the annoyance she could clearly hear in Roland's voice but couldn't blame him. There in fact had been people queuing up since nearly dawn that morning, when she had tried to escape from her nightmares above deck. She had watched them from the shadows near the helm figuring they were as good a distraction as any. Then she had thought she had seen that Killian was among them but when she had rushed to the rail to invite him on board early it had been a stranger looking back up at her.

As she crossed to the door she strapped on her sword, almost hoping that Zelena would see it and remember the promise she had made back at the jailhouse. When Roland caught sight of it at her hip he merely rolled his eyes and stepped out of her way. She elected not to comment on the hilt of a dagger she had seen poking out of the top of his boot.

“I still can't believe there are people actually willing to pay us just to step on board and not actually go anywhere,” Roland scoffed from behind her. “This realm is so strange.”

“Is Turner still determined to stand guard over the hold?” She asked as she reached the ladder leading up to the deck.

Roland snorted, “He's still upset that we knicked his good rum and he trusts those strangers much less than he does us.”

“Excuse me, who stole his rum?” She asked, turning to glare at him.

“You as good as stole it-” Roland shot back with a grin, “I would have never believed someone as tiny as you could drink that much!”

He deftly dodged her half-hearted swing at his arm, laughing at her scowl. When she turned to climb up to the deck she let her smile unfurl. She hadn't realized how much she had missed him while he had been angry at her until he no longer was.

When she stepped on deck she wasn't surprised to see the others looking at her with a range of emotions. Regina was by the starboard rail, the scowl twisting her features deepening as the voices of the crowd swelled from the dock at the port side. Grace was at the helm looking apprehensively between her and Marty, who was bouncing excitedly on his toes by the foremast. Roland stepped up beside her and gave an interested hum.

“Is it too late to say I don't think we should do this anymore?” Emma sighed.

Roland snorted, “I believe that ship has sailed, Captain.”

“Not funny,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She looked at Regina, “I guess it's time.”

“I still don't know why I was roped into helping you with this,” Regina huffed, stalking across the deck towards the gangplank.

“Because you're the only one who knows how to handle the coin of this realm,” Emma said with only a hint of the annoyance she was feeling. “And it's not like you have anywhere else to be.”

“Besides-” Roland chimed in, “you’re the one who insisted we go through with this charade, it's only fitting you should suffer along with us. Even if you did refuse to dress the part.”

“I won't debase myself by putting on those rags you found in the hold,” Regina sniffed haughtily.

“They're better than the ones we found you in,” Emma said under her breath causing Roland to snort in amusement beside her. With a smirk she said louder, “Just go so we can get this over with, Regina.”

With one final sneer Regina walked down the gangplank and out of sight. As they heard her address the crowd Emma moved toward the stern of the ship. She returned Grace’s uneasy smile as she took her place at the helm, where she'd have full view of the deck and everyone upon it. Grace stepped back behind her as Roland situated himself directly below her. When the first curious head appeared over the rail Emma took a steadying breath and drew her lips into a welcoming smile.

After a few hours Emma felt as though she had a handle on how to deal with the townspeople, at least the ones she didn’t know. It was only the early afternoon and there had already been a steady stream of familiar faces that had stepped on board. Roland had even gone so far as to slip below deck when Robin had walked up the gangplank. Emma hadn’t been much better when David and Red had shown up within ten minutes of each other, both circling the deck as she had stayed rooted at the bow, barely able to converse with the man who had been asking her questions at the time.

By far the worst moment had been when a group of children had come on board. Their adult minder had told Emma that they were from the local orphanage with some of the older ones along to keep the younger ones in line. Grace had been standing near her and had looked over at the group with a gentle smile that dropped from her face in an instant. She had nearly fainted on the spot and it had taken both Emma and Roland to get her below to the galley, both yelling for Turner to bring them water. After a few harrowing minutes Grace had raspilly whispered that her own missing children had been with the group and though she hadn’t seen them for years she was certain that it had been Jack and Jill among them.

After sending Roland back up to the top deck Emma had stayed with Grace for another hour or so. Finally Grace had regained some of her normal color and insisted that she would be fine. Emma had been reluctant to leave her but her urge to check that everything was still running smoothly had been the final push in getting her to leave Grace’s side. By the time she had emerged on deck the group of children were gone and there had been a whole new set of curious onlookers roaming about the deck.

“I think the whole damned town is going to step foot on the Jewel before the day is over,” Roland grumbled.

Emma grimaced, glad they were somewhat alone by the helm, “We’re something new in a town where apparently time hasn’t moved for over a year. I’d be suspicious if they didn’t.”

She looked over the deck and tried not to catch the eye of Walsh as he moved methodically from stem to steer. He had been on board for nearly a quarter of an hour, inspecting innocuous things like the fastenings for the lines or knocking on the deck with the heel of his shoe. Unsure what exactly he was looking for Emma hadn’t let her gaze stray away from him for too long.

“And are you?” Roland’s voice broke through her concentration on Walsh.

“Am I what?” She asked, turning confused to see him looking at her worriedly.

“Suspicious that Killian hasn’t shown up yet,” he quickly looked towards the gangplank where no one was currently stepping on board. “I thought he would have been one of the first ones here.”

“Me too,” she sighed quietly.

It had been a niggling thought throughout the day, constant and irritating in the back of her mind. Killian had always shown up when she least expected with a smirk on his lips and mischief in his eyes. She had been waiting anxiously all day for him to sneak up behind her and whisper in her ear about her outfit or the ridiculous farce they were performing but she had been so far left disappointed. Roland bringing it to the forefront of her attention had only succeeded in bringing about her worries as to why Killian had yet to appear.

“Perhaps he’s waiting for the crowds to lessen,” Roland suggested halfheartedly. “Or until the sheriff over there has looked his fill.”

“If it was the crowds Killian would have found a way on board before everyone else and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Walsh or his presence,” Emma huffed, narrowing her eyes as Walsh lightly kicked at the main mast. “Even Pinocchio has stopped by twice and I broke my promise that I’d return to his library.”

“The curse may have made them forget you but everyone still seems to hold on to their devotion to you whether they realize it or not. I didn’t miss the way your father or Red kept looking at you like they already knew you.”

“Robin was almost doing the same-” Emma pointed out gently, “You disappeared too quickly for him to get a good look at you though.”

“Yeah, well I’m not as strong as you,” Roland said with a shrug. “I doubt-”

“Excuse me?”

They both turned to find a woman around their age standing behind them. She had wide, brown eyes and hair to match, though only the ends of it could be seen poking out of her knit cap. Her dress was much the same as the rest of the townsfolk but there was something slightly scandalous about it, her thick coat open to reveal a bright pink shirt that exposed her chest and stomach in equal measure and trousers so tight Emma wondered if she had been sewn into them. She looked between the two of them with slightly suspicious eyes before focusing on Emma alone.

“Are you Eva?”

“Yep,” Emma said with the false cheer she had been talking to the townspeople with all day. “Captain of the beautiful ship you find yourself on.”

“So you’re the one helping to feed my husbands delusions,” she said in an accented voice that was as cold as ice and eyes that were as hard as steel.

“Excuse me?” Emma asked in shock, sharing a puzzled glance with Roland.

“The high and mighty private detective here to solve the murder that our sheriff’s department has been working on for ages-” the woman sneered, planting her hands on her hips, “You think you can just waltz into town and wiggle your nose and just like that you’ve solved it? I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know what you’ve been told but I only want to find out the truth, whatever it may be,” Emma said placatingly as she wondered how far talk of her false reason for being in the town had spread.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re set on seducing my husband while you’re at it. You got your claws in him but I won’t allow it, you whore.”

Emma stepped back in surprise at the vitriol in the woman’s voice just as someone rushed up beside her. She was further surprised to see it was Killian instead of Roland as she had thought. He was shaking with anger, his breaths were shallow and his hand was clenching and unclenching in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture.

“That is enough, Deb,” Killian growled.

Emma took another step back, her back pressing against the helm as she realized who the woman was. She somehow felt she should have known it was Deborah, the woman cursed to believe she was married to Killian. Watching Deborah’s face slide from a jealous rage to simpering adoration was almost enough to make her lose what little food she’d eaten that day.

“Oh, hey baby! I didn’t see you,” Deborah crooned, batting her eyelashes. “I thought you’d be down at the Hole like every year.”

“I had more pressing matters,” Killian said shortly with half a glance back at Emma.

“Talking to her?” Deborah’s nose wrinkled as she looked her over from head to toe.

“That’s it,” Emma said sharply, coming out of the daze she’d stumbled into with Deborah’s and Killian’s presence. She stepped around Killian and into Deborah’s space, “You need to leave.”

“What? I paid good money and I have every right to be here!” Deborah shrieked indignantly, her face turning red in anger.

“And we appreciate your patronage,” Roland’s voice rumbled deeply from behind Emma. “You can either go voluntarily or I can escort you. Either way you’re leaving now.”

“You aren’t going to let them treat me like this are you, baby?” Deborah whined, once again changing her demeanor in a split second as she turned to Killian with tears swimming in her eyes.

“I’m going to let them treat you however you deserve,” Killian said coldly. He turned his back on her and looked at Emma with no less anger in his gaze, “Can we talk in private?”

“Sure,” she answered, ignoring Deborah’s spluttering and murderous glares. She looked at Roland, “Make sure she’s off the ship and on her way anywhere else. Let Regina know not to let her back on under any circumstances.”

“You can’t do that!”

“She can and she did, Ma’am,” Roland said with a wide grin. “If you’ll follow me then.”

Deborah continued to yell about the way they were treating her but Emma left Roland to deal with it. With a tilt of her head she began to lead the way to the hatch that led straight to her cabin. She paid little attention to the gazes of the townsfolk that were alternating between watching her movements and the scene that Deborah was making. It was, however, hard to brush off Killian’s presence at her back and she could barely get a calming breath in as she descended into her cabin, Killian right on her heels.

Her quarters weren’t fit to receive visitors and she resisted the urge to rush about setting things to rights. Her bunk was a mess of blankets with a multitude of clothing piled on top, all items she had deemed unfit to wear for the crowds along with the boots she had kicked across the room in fits of pique. The table was littered with loose papers, books, her half eaten breakfast, broken quills and ink pots, and in the center of it all was the journal of letters to Killian, open to the last letter she had written late the night before. With blood pounding in her ears and a scorching heat in her cheeks she quickly crossed to the table and slammed it shut not giving a damn if it caused Killian to become curious as to what it was.

Turning back to him Emma realized she shouldn’t have worried. Killian was standing at the base of the ladder, head down, a muscle in his jaw ticking as though he were chewing on something tough. She wondered if he was trying to calm himself after Deborah’s words and the commotion she had caused. Her answer came when he looked up and his ire hadn’t abated. Instead it seemed to be burning hotter.

“Just what was all that, lass?” Killian asked in a low growl.

“Your wife apparently,” she snapped back, immediately rising to the defensive. “I would think you’d at least recognize the woman you yourself said made you miserable.”

“Sod Deb, that’s not what I’m talking about,” he snarled, taking two steps towards her before coming to an abrupt halt. He waved his hand jerkily towards her then up at the ceiling, “That ridiculous show you and those others are putting on today, what is all that?”

“Something appropriate for your town’s ridiculous festival. I would think that much would be obvious,” she drawled as she propped her hip on the table and crossed her arms over her chest.

Killian’s nostrils flared as an angry flush began creeping up his neck, “Don’t get bloody cute with me, lass. This has that bitch’s scent all over it and I want to know what she said to you to that has you jumping through hoops like a trained dog.”

“What the hell is your problem?” She asked angrily. She also felt a sting of hurt that he was attacking her and tried to hide it with a frustrated frown, “This is my ship and what I do on it is none of your business.”

“Your ship?” Killian asked mockingly. “Is it now, Captain Swan?”

Emma’s heart stuttered in her chest. She was still leaning against the desk and glad for it otherwise she would have collapsed to the floor hearing her moniker from out of his mouth.

“Wha- what did you say?”

“I read your bloody book,” he spat.

He fumbled with a satchel at his side that she hadn’t noticed, pulling out the story book she had given to him for safe keeping at Sunset Storybrooke. Emma had nearly forgotten all about it in the aftermath of Zelena’s revelations. She had thought that Killian had given it to Turner who in turn had held onto it while she had kept herself apart from the others. In truth she almost wanted nothing to do with the book that was filled with the memories of happier times. There had been no intention whatsoever of letting Killian read a single word from its pages.

“Yes it’s quite the fantastical tale, what with all those Disney characters coming together in a magical land. Although there were quite a few names I didn’t recognize from any cartoon I’ve ever seen,” he gave a mocking smile as he strode to the table and dropped the book unceremoniously on it, causing Emma to jump to standing in her startlement. There was a vein throbbing in his temple and his voice was deadly calm, “Can’t quite comprehend your fascination with a book of fairy tales, lass. Especially when you tell me it’s real and that I need to keep it safe before getting whisked off by that wanker Baum. Then come to find out you have a tet a tet with the devil herself and suddenly eager to obey her demands? What the hell do you take me for anyway?”

Emma took a deep breath, forcing herself not to fidget as she tried to come up with a plausible explanation.

“It’s complicated-” she started, wincing as his hand clenched into a white knuckled fist. “What I talked to the mayor about, this idiotic show for the town, even that book, it’s all a part of this stupid complicated thing and I just… I can’t tell you what it is right now.”

“You can’t tell me,” Killian scoffed in disbelief. He leaned towards her and growled, “After I read it I was certain you were having a laugh, a cruel joke but still in the realm of possibility. Then I thought it was some kind of allegory or metaphor or what have you. It could have been a front for the real tale at the heart of it because only a nutter would believe that fairy tales were real, but you were so damn adamant that the bloody book be kept safe. Then when I come here to ask you to explain I find you playing pirate and lying to my face.”

“I’m not lying,” she retorted hotly, wondering how she had completely lost control of everything.

“A lie by omission is still a lie, lass,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“And you’ve been so forthcoming with me? Do you know how many people have told me that you’re involved with whatever it is that got your brother killed? Which, by the way, it wasn’t only that hag and her puppets that mentioned it. How idiotic are you to think that that’s the way to prove anything?”

“This isn't some bloody game!” Killian yelled, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This is my life and I’m doing what I have to in order to finally find some peace for both me and my brother. I'm not some do-gooder prince from over the rainbow or some kind of hero out to save the day. I don't need this fanciful bullshit distracting me from finding what I need to take Viridans down. So either get on board and actually help me or go back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

Emma felt as though he had slid a knife between her ribs. She could hardly breathe. Killian had never spoken to her in that way. Ever.

“Get off my ship,” she said through numb lips.

“I- what?”

“I said get off my ship,” she repeated slowly, hand resting involuntarily on the hilt of her sword. “You came here with accusations flying out your mouth and an itch for a fight in your blood but I’m not going to sit back and take the punches as they come. You don’t need my bullshit distracting you? Fine. There’s the door.”

“Oh, no. You can’t just throw me off the ship like that! I deserve some kind of explanation!” He hollered, stepping towards her to tower over her.

“You deserve nothing!” She yelled back, refusing to back down and having to crane her neck to stare him down. “I thought I could trust you. I did trust you and you just threw it back in my face. Funny, having met Deborah I can now see how you two are a perfect match.”

“That’s a low blow, lass,” Killian growled.

“And here I thought you didn’t understand the concept,” she snarled. “Now get the fuck off my ship.”

“I’ll do no such thing. Not until you set some things straight.”

“I believe the captain has given an order,” Roland’s clipped voice sounded from across the cabin. “It would be wise to follow it.”

Killian spun on his heel and Emma could see both Roland and Turner standing inside the doorway. They were both glaring at Killian, Roland somehow seemingly standing taller than he already was and Turner with his sword half out of its sheath. She had never needed someone else to fight her battles but she was grateful all the same that they had appeared before she had said something she’d truly regret.

“Tell Tweedledum and Tweedledee that we’re not done with our little chat yet,” Killian said with disdain as he turned back to look at her. “I have more questions and I'm not leaving until I get some answers.”

“Too fucking bad,” she spat out. She looked around him to the doorway, “Turner see to it that Jones here finds his way back to the dock and let everyone else know they’re welcome to leave as well.”

“Aye, Captain,” Turner said with a nod, sheathing his sword and stepping towards Killian.

“You touch me and I’ll make sure I’m not the only one handed man about town,” Killian snarled, glaring at Turner. He then sneered at her, “This isn’t over, lass.”

Emma kept her face impassive, biting her tongue as Killian waited for one last retort. With a scoff he left making sure to hit both Turner and Roland with his shoulder as he did. Turner gave her an apologetic glance before following him out as Roland walked to her side pulling her into a hug. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed deeply as her arms wrapped around his waist.

“Why is it every time I see him I end up wanting to punch him in the face?” Roland asked conversationally.

“You’re not alone,” she mumbled as she sighed again. “It’s been a passing thought for me nearly the entire time I’ve known him. How’s Grace?”

“Could be better,” Roland said with his own sigh, giving her a quick squeeze before releasing her. “She came back on deck not long after you went below with Killian but she was far away from here. It took hearing you two yelling for her to snap out of it.”

Emma winced, “You could hear us?”

“Why do you think Daniel and I both showed up when we did,” he said with a shrug. He gave a quick glance to the table and the book sitting innocuously on its surface, “So, what are you going to do?”

Looking at the book she felt torn between wanting to burn it and curling up on her bunk with it to find comfort in its pages. She thought back to the devastated look on Grace’s face when she’d revealed that her children had been on the ship, how Roland hadn’t been able to face his father, the indifference in Red and her own father’s eyes, and of course every single interaction with Killian from the moment they’d arrived. Letting out an unsteady breath she knew what her choice was, what she had already decided deep in her heart.

“I’m going to break the curse.”

If you’d like to be tagged so you don’t miss future chapters let me know.

Tagging: @teamhook, @galadriel26

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au ff #cs ff au #ouat au ff #savior and scoundrel #i know it looks like shit on the dash but it's fine everywhere else #i can't figure out how to fix it either and it's driving me nuts

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yoramkelmer · 3 years

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Hogwarts Overexposed Chapter 7: Innocents All

So, I hope to do this in one shot, but can´t promise anything.

Considering that it was only at the end of last chapter in which the plot finally arrived after six chapters, it´s kinda misleading that the chapter was named "From Heaven to Hell", considering that we don´t even see that hell there.

Anyway, so last time we checked in, the Sues were surprised by three very unwelcome guests.

Who could that be?

The girls all instinctively reached for their wands, but their reactions were too slow and they were hindered by their physical situations: Jamie holding Ben, and both Caitlin and Emily lying prone.

How inconvenient.

Hooch had Apparated with her wand at the ready. "Accio Nipple! wand! Accio wand!" She repeated rapidly, pointing her wand at Emily and Caitlin in quick succession. Their wands flew toward her and she grabbed them deftly in her left hand as without the slightest hesitation she pointed her wand toward the apparently unarmed Jamie and cried, "Expelliarmus!"

Jamie was thrown violently backward against the wall, her head colliding with it harshly before she fell unconscious to the floor. Ben was ejected from her arms by the force of the impact and landed a few feet away, screaming. Timmy sat petrified, too terrified to even cry.

Hmm, I doubt I would have been too terrified to cry in such a situation at that age.

"You bitch," Emily yelled, running toward Hooch, her fists clenched. "I'll kill you with my bare hands, if you've hurt either one of them."

"Ridiculous little girl," Hooch snarled. "Crucio!"

Emily's legs buckled as she fell to the floor in pain, excruciating pain the likes of which she had never experienced; her blood boiled; her bones were on fire; she screamed with agony; she wanted to die so it would end.

So do I.

And then suddenly the pain was gone. She lay in the fetal position on the floor, her body covered in sweat. But she wasn't alone. Caitlin had evidently tried to aid her by sharing the pain and now she too was reduced to a quivering pile of bones.

"So, my sweet petite Caitlin is the healer that the prophecy refers to," Madam Hooch said smugly, twirling her moustache, walking over to the blonde girl, "And not just an ordinary healer, but quite a bit more, a Hyperempath. How noble and righteous you have become, wanting to share your sister's agony. But you are no longer an orphan that must share with the other girls. You should experience the full pleasure on your own. "Crucio!"

You know, ever since I first read the sporking on Das Mervin of this fic, all I could think of was this:

Why Madam Hooch?

Every part of Caitlin felt like it was being pierced again and again by red-hot daggers, but instead of sweat, blood seeped from her pores. Hooch ended the curse, but only after Caitlin had passed out.

"Interesting," Hooch said, running a finger across Caitlin's motionless body and studying the blood it amassed. "I've heard legends about Hyperempaths sweating blood if they were in agonizing pain, but until now I thought they were just fairy tales."

I have no idea why this is so significant right now, as this is never ever mentioned again.

"Begging your pardon Madam, but shouldn't we be more protective of the innocents?" Goyle asked fearfully.

"I agree with Goyle," Crabbe muttered. "The Great One will be elated that we've happened upon all four innocents when our mission was only to kidnap Slytherin's heir, but she'll have our heads if any harm befalls any of them before they can serve their purpose."

Just....read this. Read this aloud. Does this in any way sound like something either Crabbe or Goyle would say?

"How dare you impudent, good-for-nothing, ne'er-do-wells have the cheek to tell me what I shall or shall not do?" Madam Hooch bellowed, threatening to eat their nipples.

They both cowered as she turned toward them, her wand still in hand.

"We'd never be so bold," Goyle explained, shaking nervously. "It's just that… Well, the Great One was very clear that no harm should come to the Weasley brat. Would not the same hold true for the other innocents as well?"

Except for Ben, what´s so innocent about them?

Hooch studied Goyle intently and then surveyed the room. "Perhaps I was a tad over zealous," she reluctantly admitted, pocketing her wand. "You are right. The Great One will be extremely pleased. She was troubled as to just how we would go about seizing the other innocents while the Hogwarts' wards protected them. It was extremely accommodating of them to come to us."

How convenient.

"Will someone shut that damn baby up?" Hooch shouted. Emily had already edged over to Ben and was trying to quiet him, but to no avail.

"Jamie or Hermione generally takes care of him," Timmy whispered timidly, as he crawled over next to Emily, clutching his crayons and colouring book possessively.

Does this sound like something a 5 year old would say?

"Caitlin, put your abilities to use; see to her," Hooch ordered the now stirring girl.

Caitlin detested following Hooch's orders, but in this case was grateful to be permitted to tend to Jamie. Although still weak from the effects of the Cruciatus curse , she managed to stagger over to Jamie.

Because even the Cruciatus curse won´t stop her from using her Sue Powers.

Caitlin stroked Jamie's head for a few moments; after a bit, the older girl slowly opened her eyes. "You'll be all right," Caitlin said reassuringly. "Just a slight concussion."

Jamie ignored Caitlin's cautions as she struggled to get to her knees and then finally stand upright. As soon as she was on her feet, she hurried to Emily and they transferred the bawling Ben. The baby, once in Jamie's arms calmed and soon stopped crying.

Must be one of Jamies Sue Powers, stopping babies from crying.

"Well done Miss Zacherley," Hooch said. "I think you may have just won yourself a postponement of your execution."

"Have I already mentioned how evil I am?"

Crabbe and Goyle looked questioningly at Madam Hooch. "But our orders were to kill any extras," Crabbe blurted out.

"Our orders were also to just bring back Slytherin's heir," Hooch retorted. "What do you suggest we do with the other innocents? You must learn to fine-tune your orders to the situation at hand. We will soon have all four innocents in safekeeping, but it is over two weeks until the new moon and the time of their sacrifice. I, for one, do not intend to spend that time as a nursemaid to these brats. Which of you two wasters wants to take care of that insufferable infant; feed him, change his nappy?"

That sounds so convenient.

Both buffoons aggressively wobbled their heads to say no.

"We'll take her back with us," Hooch decided. "She gets to play nanny for the next two weeks as an alternative to us. When all is said and done, it will just mean disposing of one additional corpse."

Crabbe and Goyle's heads bobbled in agreement.

Jamie, Emily and Caitlin had all paid attention as the followers of the Great One had opening discussed their ultimate fate. They now all remained silent. Emily actually seemed to be trying to keep Timmy's attention by drawing in his colouring book.

Uuuuh, I wonder if this will be significant later.....

"We've wasted enough time jabbering," Hooch finally said. "Let's get them back to head quarters, where Damien and the Great One can congratulate us on our good fortune."

"Should we go put clothes on?" *gasp!* Jamie asked, most cooperatively. Her foremost reason for asking was the hope that she could get out of view long enough to draw her wand from its invisible sheath and catch Hooch unaware. She knew that if she could just incapacitate Hooch, she would be able to handle Crabbe and Goyle easily.

I thought Jamie always had that invisible sheath on her? Apparently only when the plot demands.

Speaking of which.....why doesnt Caitlin now use her powers to kill Hooch and the others with her mind?

On the other hand she was concerned about Crabbe and Goyle. Since things had quieted down, Goyle hadn't taken his eyes off her. She felt as if he had mentally violated her multiple times and it was only a matter of time before he got around to trying to do it physically. Goyle, however, didn't bother her nearly as much as Crabbe. Crabbe might be the dumber of the two, but he was also categorically the more lecherous. He seemed to be practically salivating as he ogled Emily and Caitlin.

Yeah, remember when it was said "his attraction to underage girls is well documented"?

"That would be a waste of time," Hooch said with a chortle. "You will be transported using a Portkey similar to the one used to get hold of your dear, look-alike, professor two years ago. It's good that you all enjoy being unclothed because that's how you'll be spending the remaining days of your lives."

Isnt that what Jamie wants?

"That lady just said that we could stay nudie for the rest of our lives," Timmy said elatedly to Caitlin and Emily.

I doubt Timmy at this stage wouldnt be able to see that this is a dangerous situation, after seeing the others get tortured.

"Isn't that great," Caitlin said giving Timmy a reassuring hug and purposely not explaining the true meaning of the ex-professor's remark.

I hate this fic.

"But what about the baby?" Jamie asked concernedly. "I need his diaper bag and the remaining packets of breast milk.

Hooch thought for a moment before answering. "Goyle, you Apparate ahead so that you are there to meet them on their arrival. Crabbe, you and I will see them off then I'll Apparate with the baby's immediate needs. You will make a side trip for diapers and infant formula."

Crabbe gave Hooch an insolent glare, but knew better than to question her orders, as he didnt want to lose his nipples.

"Benjamin doesn't take well to canned formula," Jamie advised. "He prefers breast milk."

"Well isn't that a pity," Hooch screeched uncaringly. "We don't always get what we want in life, do we? I'm afraid he'll just have to become accustomed to formula or go hungry."

Hooch observed the girl carefully as Jamie gathered Ben's belongings together. "What about Timmy?" Jamie inquired. "Should I collect some of his toys?"

Hooch looked disbelievingly at Jamie. "I'm sorry if I've given you the wrong impression," she bellowed. "You are not going on vacation and The Great One does not run a day care centre. Damien does, however, have a number of unique toys that I'm sure he'd be happy to demonstrate to all of you. That is enough of this pointless chatter. Goyle, go prepare for their arrival."

Oh, that plot point.....

Without so much as a glance or any question, the corpulent wizard Apparated with a loud pop.

Hooch removed what appeared to be a deflated children's pool float from her pocket. "Each of you grab hold of a bit of this," she ordered.

"You had better hold the baby tightly to you chest." She advised Jamie commandingly.

They all put a hand nervously on the Portkey, having no idea to where they were about to be transported. Hooch counted down from three and then they felt the, by now, all too recognizable jerk as though a hook located just behind their navels had suddenly jerked them irresistibly forward. Jamie held Benjamin tightly against her breasts as her feet left the ground; she could feel the others on either side of her, their shoulders banging into hers, Timmy yelling gleefully as Ben cried incessantly. They were all speeding forward as though stuck to the Portkey as it pulled them magically onward and then__

Seconds later, they slammed to the solid ground. Jamie struggled to maintain her footing as first Emily and then Caitlin knocked into her.

Timmy was on the ground in front of her screaming ecstatically, "Again, again, me loves Portkeys." Ben was just screaming, obviously not sharing Timmy's bliss.

This is so dumb.

"Enjoy the trip?" Goyle uttered wickedly as they struggled to get their bearings.

Then with a soft 'pop' Madam Hooch joined them. She tossed Ben's diaper bag at Jamie, who let it fall to the floor; her arms already occupied, trying to calm the distressed baby.

"These are your quarters," she said with a snicker. "I advise you not to lay a hand on anything. Damien does not tolerate anyone touching his playthings. What's more, some are extremely sharp and dangerous. You'll be fed in the morning, if you're lucky." She turned to leave, Goyle at her side, his eyes still fixed on Jamie's glistening nude body.

-___-

"But where are the beds, blankets and pillows? Caitlin inquired. "And I need to use the bathroom."

Hooch and Goyle exchanged depraved smiles before breaking into uncontainable cruel laughter.

"You're standing on your bed," Hooch laughed. "As for blankets and pillows, I'm afraid you'll have to use each other for such luxuries."

I hate this fic.

"That sewer grate is your bathroom," Goyle chuckled. "The hose pipe just to the left is your drinking water supply and may also be used for bathing if desired. One temperature fits all purposes."

"Get to sleep," Hooch ordered. "Remember, don't touch anything!"

How will she stop them from touching anything?

* * * * * *

Saturday, August 20, 2005

"Sam, wake up," Ron said, cautiously shaking the sleeping panther.

The panther growled sleepily and then transformed into his charming wife. WHY IS EVERYONE A FREAKING ANIMAGUS? Sam gave Ron a kiss on the cheek and then looked about the cell. Evidently she had been the last to arise because Harry and Hermione were already engaged in an animated conversation as they both paced back and forth in front of the dungeon cell waiting for Snape to arrive and unlock the chamber.

"Is something wrong?" Sam questioned apprehensively. "Why do Harry and Hermione appear so worried?"

"They were forced back into wearing clothes!"

"It's probably nothing," Ron said reassuringly. He seemed to be trying to persuade himself as much as Sam. "Hermione tried reaching Caitlin telepathically this morning when she awoke and was unable to."

DUN DUNN DUNNNN

Sam's face paled as she shook off Ron's embrace and hurried to Hermione's side. "Has this ever happened before, you not being able to contact her? Sam asked.

"No," Hermione answered, "but then we haven't been away from each other a great deal to methodically test it. Most of our contact by telepathy has been from one part of Hogwarts to another or sometimes Hogsmeade. During holiday we communicated from ship to shore and, of course, from our arrival point to that car park when those hooligans kidnapped the girls."

I think that´s the last time their almost-rape ever gets mentioned again. Again, what was the point of it?

"But you never had any problem reaching each other before? Maybe she is asleep or the Hogwarts wards are interfering," Sam suggested, hoping for a logical and calming solution.

"We've both managed to invade the other's deepest sleep," Hermione replied nervously. "Thus far the only thing that has impeded our thoughts from reaching each other has been distance and plate glass. Our thoughts were not the least bit hampered last evening and circumstances this morning should be identical."

Again, we never get to know why exactly glass is so different.

"Here he comes," Harry yelled, as he saw Snape turn the corner. "Ginny and Draco are with him."

* * * * * *

Cut for unnecessary discussion about who is to blame.

Now look at this:

"Weasley?" Malfoy questioned, finding it unbelievable that anyone could have been so dim-witted. "You had Ginny remove all the charms and wards on the apartment so that your landlord could show it to a potential tenant, didn't you? Please tell me that you didn't neglect to restore them before allowing those children to spend the night here."

Why couldnt Ginny do it? Why is it all Rons fault?

This is all just another excuse by Neil to shit on Ron.

"You can inform those bureaucratic do nothings if you desire," Harry shouted, "but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit back idly and wait for them to find the kids. They were of absolutely no help when Hermione was kidnapped and I anticipate little more from them this time around."

Draco nodded his head in accord. "I'm glad that for once we are in agreement, Potter. Under Minister Wrong's administration the Aurors have become indolent and ineffective. They've made utterly no progress in the last two years toward eradicating that blot on the wizarding world known as the Great One."

I actually wonder why neither Harry, Draco or anyone else didn´t jump to the idea that....maybe Emma Wrong is the Great One?

"Harry, do you think it's him? Do you think the Great One has the children?" Hermione asked trying to maintain a semblance of control over her distraught emotions.

"Who else?" Harry answered. "The Great One wants to rule the world. He has shown himself to be ruthless, cunning and a tad psychotic. Anyone trying to resurrect the dead has to be crazy, especially when you're talking about a wizard that was as evil and monstrous as Salazar Slytherin."

I´ve said this before, but wouldnt it be a more interesting take if Salazar Slytherin, once resurrected, is disgusted by all that Emma Wrong did in his name and denounced evilness etc?

But because Neil stole this plot from the Draco Trilogy, Slytherin is gonna be eeeevul.

"Then you believe the kids were taken in order to fulfil the prophecy?" Ron asked.

"Why else?" Harry said. "What possible other reason could there be for kidnapping a baby, a toddler and two young girls?"

"You forgot Jamie," Ginny said.

This was only put in so Giny could say something.

"I didn't forget her," Harry said, his voice cracking and practically choking on his own words. "Actually at this point in time I'm most concerned about her because she could be considered unnecessary and therefore expendable."

Everyone stared at Harry, but Severus was the first to offer a rationalization for his comment. "If someone is indeed going to attempt to restore to life Salazar Slytherin, they will be using some of the oldest and darkest magic known to the wizard world. Magic that is forbidden and the use of which is considered a more heinous crime than any of the forbidden curses.

As if we all didn´t already know that.

"Such magic takes months of preparation and can only be attempted under prescribed conditions. One of those conditions is that the rebirth must coincide with the birth of the moon."

"By birth of the moon, are you referring to a new moon?" Ginny inquired.

WHAT ELSE?

Severus nodded. "Since we are now experiencing the full moon, we have two weeks until the new moon, September third to be exact. That is the earliest that the Great One can attempt the restoration."

"Then the children are safe until then at least," Ron said, sounding at least somewhat relieved.

"To an extent," Harry replied despondently. "They must remain alive and innocent until the new moon, but who know what tortures the animals that cage them will inflict. And Jamie…"

"They don't require her at all," Hermione cried, horrified at the thought.

"No," Harry said. "At this juncture we can only be thankful that all signs point to her currently being alive.

How is that?

Sam picked up Timmy's colouring book and after studying it a moment commented. "We can stop assuming some things," she said. "The Great One definitely has the children and we should stop referring to her as a he."

OMG OMG

Everyone looked at Sam questioningly as she passed the colouring book first to Hermione and then it started making the rounds of everyone present. On the open page of the book, someone had hastily drawn a stick figure. Apparently the drawing was of a woman because a triangle representing a dress was drawn over the tops of the legs. 'G1' was scrawled under the drawing.

OMG HOW CLEVER IS THAT OMG OMG

"It's not a lot of information," Draco declared, "but it's more than the Ministry has been able to ascertain in the last two years."

Again, why don´t they come to the conclusion that the Great One is in the Ministry herself?

"We also have a means to locate them," Harry said.

"Harry, if you're referring to Caitlin and my telepathic connection," Hermione interjected. "I have to be within twenty-five miles of her for that to work."

"That means we have to get you within that distance," Harry declared emphatically.

"But Harry," Ginny said, "Great Britain covers nearly 89,000 square miles and we can't even be sure they are still on the island."

"No we can't," Harry admitted, "But two years ago I sat helpless waiting wondering if the woman I loved would ever be returned to me. I'm not sitting idle again."

He looked questioningly at Hermione. "It will be worse than looking for that damn proverbial needle in a haystack," he said, "and all we can do is fly escort, you're the only one with the power to contact Caitlin."

Oh G-d.

What then follows are two long copy-paste flashbacks from the first fic of when she adopted Caitlin and then from the second fic where she gave birth to Ben.

"Hermione," Harry called, trying to bring her back to reality. "Are you all right?" Will you be up to that much flying?"

"Those bastards have ripped our hearts out. They've taken from us what is most precious, our children. It's not a question of whether I'm up to it; it's a question of how soon do we get started."

This is the first we ever see of Hermione actually doing something.

* * * * * *

In twenty-four hours, Jamie had gone from sleeping in a quite comfortable bed on a first class cruise ship, to sleeping on the chilly stone floor of what gave the appearance of being a dungeon torture chamber right out of the thirteen hundreds. Sleeping was perhaps not the correct term because she had in reality slept very little during the night.

But at least she wasnt forced to wear clothes, am I right?

They had all cuddled together to share their body warmth the previous evening. Jamie had lain on her side with Ben nestled snugly in her arms, Emily facing her in order to help shelter the infant. Caitlin had snuggled against Jamie's back and little Timmy had burrowed between Jamie and Emily, alternately using each girl as a pillow.

With the possible exception of Ben, no one slept contentedly; there was a great deal of tossing and turning. Then just when Jamie had finally drifted off to sleep, Ben awoke, hungry and demanding that his diaper be changed.

How inconvenient.

It was now a little past six in the morning, as Jamie appraised their prison while the others slept restlessly. She only knew the time because in the quietness of the early morning she had heard what sounded like a grandfather's clock in a nearby room solemnly chiming the hour.

How can she even hear that in a dungeon?

The dungeon seemed to be modelled after those used during the time of the Spanish Inquisition. It was damp and if not for the torches, would have been extremely dark. Torches are something originating in movies to give some light - real dungeons never used torches. Fortunately it did not seem to be vermin infested or extremely bad smelling as dungeons of that era often were; at least Jamie had not thus far observed any rats or cockroaches. She trusted that their meals would also be more than the mouldy bread and stale water normally served to prisoners of that time.

Although she had no way of being positive, Jamie suspected that they might be the only prisoners. She had been awake most of the night and had heard no cries or screams, or for that matter any sounds at all, echoing throughout the dungeon walls.

Considering that this is Hogwarts Exposed, maybe it is a good thing that they are the only prisoners here.

"Wake up!" Madam Hooch screamed as she entered the chamber, Crabbe and Goyle on her heels. Hooch tossed a bag in Jamie's direction. "Crabbe purchased formula and baby bottles."

"You get two meals a day," she shouted as the kids yawned and stretched. "This isn't Hogwarts, eat what you're served without complaint or starve. It's your choice." She waved her wand and four plates and tumblers appeared on the floor.

"Where do we sit to eat?" Timmy asked innocently.

"On your arse," Goyle replied crudely.

I´M SO BRITISH LOOK AT ME

Caitlin and Emily both gave Goyle looks of loathing as they squatted Indian style on the floor, Emily demonstrating to Timmy how to sit the same way. Jamie looked about for somewhere she could lay down the still sleeping Ben. She stared beseechingly at Hooch, fearing that she would eat her nipples.

"We were all extremely cold and uncomfortable last night," she said. "If you insist that my sisters and I catch pneumonia, so be it, but couldn't you at least give us blankets for Timmy and the baby. I can't lay Ben down on a chilly damp stone floor."

Hooch looked at Jamie as if she were asking for the moon and then gave a sigh of total antipathy. She drew her wand and pointed it at the floor where a tiny padded infant mattress appeared. "For the infant only," she declared. "Damien or the Great One will have to approve anything additional."

I love how Emma Wrong hasnt revealed herself to the Sues yet.

"Thank you," Jamie said, but her words of appreciation went ignored. After putting down the sleeping baby she seated herself next to Emily, adopting the same Indian style position the girls and Timmy had taken.

Goyle was carrying a large bowl from which he scooped what appeared to be gooey scrambled eggs, and flopped some on each of their plates. Crabbe, using his grimy bare hands, tossed a sausage patty and a piece of toast on each plate. Hooch placed a pitcher of some putrid looking juice on the floor and then the three turned to leave.

"You forgot to give us eating utensils," Emily said as if to remind them.

Crabbe, turned, held his hand in the air and wiggled his fingers. Then without a word he followed Hooch and Goyle out of the room and slammed the door.

"Somehow I don't think losing the weight I gained on the cruise is going to be a problem," Emily said, looking nauseated at her plate.

"That's an understatement," Caitlin said, taking a tiny bite from her cold rubbery sausage.

"I don't like this," Timmy said pushing his plate away. "I want to go home. I want my Mummy." The toddler started crying.

Jamie got to her feet and picked up the little boy, hugging him to her chest as she stroked his back. "Timmy, we all want to go home," she said, searching for words that he would understand to describe their situation.

As if this would help anything.

"These are bad people. They've hidden us away from the ones we love. I'm sure that right now your Mummy and Daddy are looking for us along with Harry and Hermione. It's just a matter of time until they find us," she said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "When they do, these terrible people will be punished. But until they get here we have to all be very good and do everything we are told to or they will hurt us. Do you remember what the evil woman did to Emily and Caitlin last night?"

Timmy nodded his head timidly.

Which is why its so weird that he was looking forward to go on a nudist trip.

"You don't want them to be hurt again, do you?"

Timmy shook his head.

"Then you have to be big brave boy. In order to do that you have to be strong, and in order to be strong you must eat. They want us all to become weak; that's why they gave us such horrible food. They think we won't eat it. We'll show them, won't we? We'll be big and strong and make your Mummy and Daddy proud of us."

Timmy nodded his head. "Timmy be big and brave like Daddy."

"Let's have a contest and see which of us can do the best job emptying their plate," Jamie suggested.

As Timmy and Jamie started nibbling at the bland food, Ben began to stir. Jamie looked worriedly in his direction. This feeding would finish the last of Hermione's breast milk. What would Jamie do if Ben refused to drink the Muggle formula?

I honestly hate what this is foreshadowing.

* * * * * *

"Timmy, please stay away from those devices," Jamie implored. "Some of them are sharp and look exceedingly dangerous."

I love how these don´t ever get a real description.

"But I'm bored," Timmy complained. "There's nothing to do here."

"He's just being inquisitive," said the voice of a man who had one way or another, entered the chamber without Jamie's knowledge.

He stared admiringly at Jamie for a few moments and than said, shaking his head, "The resemblance is uncanny. They told me you looked like her, but …"

We get it, Jamie looks like Hermione with giant tits, this is getting old -_-

Jamie shivered as the man stepped before her. Her heartbeat increased and her body became hot and clammy as she felt him violate her with his eyes. He moved closer and she shivered as he stepped into the light before her. His face was sallow and covered in acne. His eyes were gray, but the parts that should be white were a very sickly looking yellow. Involuntarily, she shuddered as he stared at her silently. He took a few steps forward and was now so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. She cringed, but held her ground; determined to not show fear. Besides, where did she have to run?

It is rare that we get so much description of a character in the Saga.

With that said, take a look at Emma Wrong, the Big Bad of the Saga, wrecking terror and havoc in both the Wizard as well as the Muggle World, hellbent on resurrecting Salazar Slytherin - it is now the third fic and WE STILL DIDNT GET ONE DESCRIPTION OF WHAT SHE LOOKS LIKE.

"My name is Damien," he said, as if this should have some meaning to Jamie.

"Leave my sister alone," Caitlin yelled.

"Yeah, back off pimple puss," Emily shouted.

Damien seemed to ignore the outbursts of the younger girls as he moved even closer to Jamie, his large, oily nose now mere centimetres from her own. He leaned closer as if intending to kiss her, but instead whispered in her ear.

"Your sisters love you and appear prepared to leap to your defence," he said softly, yet in a cold manner, so that only Jamie could hear. "I like that. Since they are so brave, if you fight or resist me in even the slightest way, I'll allow them to pay the consequences."

Right now I have the feeling as though Neil is living out his fantasies through Damien.

He reached out his hand and caressed Jamie's cheek with his short rough fingers; slowly he moved them to touch her lips, before descending down her neck to her ample chest. Jamie closed her eyes and bit her lip as his fingers played briefly with her nipple, fearing he would devour it like Madam Hooch would do.

Then without warning, he grabbed her between the legs and prodded her roughly with his fingers. Jamie jerked in response, tears coming to her eyes, but she made no effort to stop his invasion. Damien moved away from her, a look of disappointment on his face.

I wonder why Caitlin isnt using this opportunity to make his head explode.

"You're no Hermione," he said, looking at Jamie with disenchantment. "You may have her looks, but you lack her tenacity. At the very least she would have spat in my face."

Damien turned his back on Jamie, as if their encounter had not even transpired, and addressed Timmy. "Would you like me to show you around?" he asked. "Your friends can join us."

Timmy nodded his head, eager for anything to do, and motioned for Emily and Caitlin to join him. Jamie just watched anxiously. Clearly this was where Hermione had been held captive when she was kidnapped two years ago. The memories of that time span still eluded Hermione. Could Damien have been her jailer? Was he the one that smashed the bones in her fingers? Considering that Madam Hooch had already told them that Hermione had been here, who else would it be? What else had he done? Had he possibly raped her?

Damien seemed to be enjoying giving the tour; it was as if he were sharing the results of a wonderful hobby. Emily and Caitlin walked apprehensively with Damien as he pointed out and explained the various implements to Timmy. Fortunately, Timmy was too young to appreciate most of Damien's enlightenment, but from the horrified looks on Caitlin and Emily's faces, they had understood his explanations, all too well.

After he had shown them such devices as The Rack, The Ducking Stool and the Wheel, Damien showed them The Cage. The Cage was rather simple. It consisted of an iron band that encircled the waist at the hips. From this band two additional iron bands were connected at either side in the front. These bands crossed at the chest and then bent over the shoulders again crossing in the back before connecting to the waistband. Wrist cuffs were attached to both sides and a hinged iron band went between the legs and closed at the back. Attachments for chains at the shoulders secured the prisoner to the wall.

I have a feeling that the Suethor gets turned on by all that.

After finishing explaining the finer points of the cage, Damien called to Jamie. "This was Professor Granger's home while she was with us. Would you like to try it on?"

Jamie didn't answer, but instead walked over and picked up Ben, who was stirring restlessly. Soon she would know whether or not he would drink the formula. As Jamie held Ben in her arms, Damien picked up the first of many tools lying on a shelf.

"Step closer to me," he said to Caitlin. "I want to show you how this works. I won't hurt you, at least not at the moment."

He picked up an iron four-pronged implement. "This is called a Breast Ripper," he said, pressing the instrument firmly against Caitlin's chest. "It was often used on women convicted of heresy or adultery. Depending on the mood of the torturer, the device would either be frozen or heated to increase the pain."

Oh G-d -_-

Neil is clearly turned on by all this.

Damien snickered as he removed the tool from Caitlin's breast. "It works better on something a bit larger. If you'd like a demonstration perhaps Jamie would be willingly to assist me." He laughed as if the idea of mutilating Jamie's breasts was amusing."

The " seems to indicate that he said this aloud about himself in the 3rd person.

How many betas were there again?

At that moment Ben began bawling and Jamie hurried to get him a bottle of formula. "Perhaps later," Damien said, sounding extremely let down. "She seems to be busy at the moment."

Is Neil trying to be funny here?

He returned the apparatus to the shelf and was about to pick up the thumbscrews when Timmy yelled, "What is that fancy looking thing?"

Damien patted the boy on the back. "That is one of my favourites," he said smiling wickedly at Timmy. "That is called a Pear."

"Like the fruit?" Timmy asked innocently.

"Yes," Damien said, again patting Timmy on the back.

-______-

Jamie listened nervously to Damien chatting to Timmy and the girls as she fed Ben. At least Ben was drinking his bottle.

"How does it work?" Timmy asked excitedly.

"It is forced into the mouth, rectum or vagina of the victim and there expanded by force of the screw to the maximum aperture of the segments," Damien answered. "The inside of the cavity in question is irremediably mutilated, nearly always fatally so. The pointed prongs at the end of the segments serve better to rip into the throat, the intestines or the cervix."

It is generally rare that this much is described here.

I hate it.

Timmy looked at him uncertainly, not quite understanding, but beginning to realise that these were not pleasant devices.

"How would you like that thrust into your little twat?" Damien asked Emily, maliciously.

"I'd much prefer to see it shoved up your scrawny arse," Emily retorted.

YASSS QUEEEEN SLAAAAY

"You have spirit," Damien said, gazing with pleasure at Emily. "It's a shame that I've been ordered not to damage any of you. I think I could have fun with you."

"Go fuck yourself!" Emily shouted, as she attempted to drive her knee in between Damien's legs. She missed her target and Damien sent her sailing across the room where she landed near an eight-foot tall pyramid shaped object.

Oh....that one....

"Leave her alone," Jamie yelled, running to her sister's side.

"You keep out of this, bitch, and tend to that infant or you'll be the first person to test my Pyramid of Death."

Jamie didn't have the opportunity to comment, because Ben chose that moment to vomit and then proceeded to cry hysterically.

"Shut that spoiled brat up," Damien commanded. "You do understand that little horror is the only reason you're alive, don't you?"

"Enough of this tour," Damien said, growing bored and turning as if to leave the chamber.

"But sir! What is the Pyramid of Death?" Timmy questioned.

Holy shit is this creepy!

"I like you, little one," Damien said, sounding sincere. "It is a misfortune you must die so young." He pointed to the tall pyramid in the middle of the room. "That is the Pyramid of Death. It is my own creation, bringing together the virtues of the Judas Cradle and Impalement."

Timmy, Emily and Caitlin all stared at the pyramid uncertainly, waiting for a further explanation.

"With the Judas Cradle, the victim was hung in the air by various ropes and dropped onto a point, thus completely destroying the genital area," Damien explained. "Impalement was the process of inserting a steak or post through the entire body of the victim, starting at the seat of the body and exiting through the mouth or throat."

Neil is clearly turned on by this o.O

Damien beamed in delight as he gave details on his creation. "The point and edges of the Pyramid of Death are razor sharp. The victim is tied and hung in the air over the pyramid in such a way that the arms and legs are in the air and the anus is barely touching the point. When the rope is released, theoretically the weight of the body will cause it to be cut in four pieces with the point of the pyramid coming out through the center of the scull."

Is this even possible?

Because googling "Pyramid of death" only gave me results from antisemitic conspiracy theories.

Caitlin threw up as she visualized such an atrocity. Timmy started to cry.

"You're mental," Emily shouted. "No one in their right mind could do something like that to another human being."

Damien backhanded Emily so hard that she fell to the floor. "I'll show you mental," he said. Damien looked coldly toward Jamie. "Hopefully they will all have the opportunity to see you meet that fate before they die." Without another word, he exited the dungeon.

"I'm scared," Timmy wailed. "I want my Mummy."

Emily lifted Timmy into her arms and tried to calm him.

"Jamie, what are we going to do?" Caitlin asked, their situation seeming hopeless.

"I don't know," Jamie sobbed as Ben sucked frantically on her nipple, trying to get nonexistent nourishment.

I hate what this is foreshadowing -__-

"Jamie, are we all going to die? Timmy asked between his sobs.

Jamie didn't answer. She just held Ben tightly as tears streamed down her face.

End of Chapter Seven

So, you noticed something?

The description. It is rare that something gets so much description, the last time we got so much description was when....Hermione got tortured in her captivity.

It´s very clear that Neil is turned on by this.

That was it for today.

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madamefist · 7 months

Text

Title: Prophecy Rating: T Chapters: 7/? Summary: In their final year of high school, Team X will face unavoidable highs and lows - the woes of being super powered, and teenage. They'll share firsts, lasts, and will have to navigate their way through deception, manipulation and inevitably heartbreak. Him is still an underlying threat in their lives, as are the mysterious prophecies he lives by..

Chapter 7: ‘I still have feelings’ snippet

Bubbles’ blonde brow arched, and she nodded firmly. “Okay. Okay, fine. We’re doing this. I know you’re not being completely honest with me about something, Boomer Jojo.” He swallowed hard, half enjoying her firm tone and half feeling fearful of it. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about something, either. And now, that’s going to change.”

The blonde ruff blinked in confusion. “What? Bubbles what do you -”

She put her hand up to stop him from speaking. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that, she left the apartment. After a couple seconds of stunned silence, the five remaining teenagers made a beeline to the balcony to try and see what the hell was going on.

They immediately spotted the blue puff to the side of the apartment building, crouched down by a dumpster. They had to crane their necks and hover to see her around the corner and in the dim light of the evening.

“Bubbles! What are you doing?! Come back up here so we can talk!” Boomer called down to her, but she ignored him.

“Err, is she in the trash?” Butch asked.

“Umm, yup. It looks like she’s in the trash. And uhh -” Buttercup paused briefly for confirmation. She could hear her sister squeaking. “Yup.”

“Oh no.” Blossom groaned, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What?” Boomer asked, panic rising in him.

“She’s really not told you about this?” Buttercup questioned the extremely confused blue ruff.

“What? About what?!”

“Yeesh.” Buttercup muttered. “This’ll be fun.”

“Oh no,” Blossom groaned as she watched her sister open her hands and allow a small grey rat to hop onto them. “Bubbles not a rat. Something else, not a rat.”

“She’s got a rat?!” Boomer asked. “What the hell is going on?!”

...

You can read Prophecy here and here 🖤

#prophecy madame fist #ppg fanfic #ppg x rrb #madame fist #madamefist #choices ppg #fanfic writing #prophecy fic

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lenfaz · 7 years

Text

Time upon Once, ch. 15 (15/?)

Summary: Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones @shady-swan-jones jones for the banner!

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story:@lk0622 @sambethe@xemmaloveskillianx @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain@icecubelotr44 @poetic-justice-96 @allietumbles @el-kelpo @jennjenn615 @leiandcharles@midnightswans (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV

ao3 ff.net

Chapter XV

The one good thing about being Sheriff in a small town - and having no deputy - was that one could take liberties. Those liberties allowed Killian to escort Mary Margaret to their loft that night and tell her they would head to the station and deal with the mess the next morning. He bid her farewell after that and simply retreated to his room. A part of him wanted to stay by her side and assured her everything will be fine, but he also knew that he needed to put some distance between them in case everyone came asking questions the next day.

He barely slept that night and by the shadows underneath her eyes, neither had she. He drove them both silently to the station and once they were there, he fidgeted next to his desk. Killian knew what he had to do, he’d lain awake all night listing to himself all the reasons why he needed to take Mary Margaret to the station that morning and yet…

“You have to book me, don’t you?” Mary Margaret met his eyes, a gentle smile on her face. He couldn’t believe she was the one maintaining a cool facade during all this.

“Aye, I must.” He gestured for Mary Margaret to stand in front of the wall they used for mugshots and she quickly obliged.

“I didn’t kill Kathryn, Killian.”

“Of course you didn’t.” He was almost offended she felt the need to point that out to him. “But you know I have to go where the evidence leads.”

“And it points to me. Yesterday it seemed it was David…. Something is not right here.” There wasn’t even a hint of reproach in her voice, as if she wasn’t getting the short end of the stick on this one, as if she were simply trying to help him solve this as a friend.

“I know, darling, I know. But with your fingerprints on that box, if I don’t book you today...”

“Regina will have a strong cause to fire you,” Mary Margaret finished his thought for him, voicing his biggest concern. If he was still Sheriff, he could ensure every single thing was triple checked before proceeding, but if Regina found even one excuse to get rid of him, gods knew what type of treatment Mary Margaret - or anyone - would get. His eyes bored into hers, hoping she could read in them what he couldn’t say out loud.

“I’m still waiting for the DNA results to come back. But in the meantime, I need to ask you a few questions. I need you to bear with me.”

“I trust you,” she said, reaching to squeeze his hand. He felt a lump in his throat and he wanted nothing more than to release her and tell her to run far away from here. But he had a job to do and he had to be honest with her before they made it to that interrogation room.

“Mary Margaret, Regina is going to be there.” Mary Margaret’s eyes widened in fear and he held onto her hand. “She asked to present as a third-party observer, to ensure I remain impartial in the interrogation.” Killian swallowed, trying to find the words. He wanted her to know that he believed her, he believed in her. “I know you’d never hurt anyone, Mary Margaret. I know it.”

Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she squeezed his hand again. “Come on, Sheriff. Do your job.”

/-/

Regina Mills looked every bit of the smug witch she could be when they entered the room. But luckily, she’d remained silent as Killian initiated the recording and started with his account of the facts they knew.

“The heart was found buried near the old Toll Bridge. It had been cut out by what appears to be a hunting knife. Have you ever been to that bridge before?”

May Margaret didn’t hesitate as she spoke. “Yes. It’s where David and I liked to meet.”

“David Nolan,” Killian clarified for the records and she nodded. “What was the purpose behind those meetings?”

“We were having an affair.” She was calm and collected as she honored the truth, and he was so proud of her at that moment. Leave it to Mary Margaret to do the right thing even in the worst of moments. She tilted her head and met Regina’s eyes. “I’m not proud of what happened, and I’m sorry. But that doesn’t change the fact that I did not kill Kathryn.”

Killian let those words sink in as he reached for the evidence shelf. He slowly put on a pair of latex gloves and retrieved the plastic bag that held the wooden box Ruby had found.

He placed the box on the table. “Have you seen this before?”

Mary Margaret tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “That’s my jewelry box.”

Killian’s heart sank in his chest and he had trouble keeping his voice calm. “We found the heart inside this.”

Mary Margaret finally broke, not being able to maintain her composure any longer. “Don’t you see? Someone must have stolen it and put the heart in it.” Her eyes filled with tears as she desperately turned from him to Regina. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Miss Blanchard.” Regina put her hand over Mary Margaret’s, her tone almost reassuring. Killian narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I know what you’re going through. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” She gave it a moment for the words to sink in. “To be publicly humiliated. It put me in a very dark place. Changed me.” There was no hint of a lie, there wasn’t t even anything threatening in her words, and yet Killian could feel the darkness seeping behind every syllable, the way each word had been sharpened to a point, all the better to stab into Mary Margaret’s heart. “I can only imagine what losing David Nolan did to you.”

May Margaret released her hand from Regina’s hold. “I haven’t changed. I’m still the same. I did not do this.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed and attempted to speak, but Killian decided that he would not tolerate this anymore. “Madam Mayor, a word with you in the hallway.”

It took all this self-restraint but he managed to keep his voice level as he turned to her in the corridor. “You’re an observer here, not a party. You don’t get to ask questions or provide any color commentary on it. You’re tainting the investigation.”

Regina gave him a once-over. “You’re so convinced she didn’t do it. It’s written all over your face, Mr. Jones.”

“Sheriff Jones,” he corrected, his jaw clenching.

“If that box was stolen from her, as she claims, don’t you think there’d be signs of a break in?” She had a point there. Killian knew it and from the smug face Regina was sporting, she knew it too. “You’re her roommate – tell me. Has there been one?”

Killian fisted his hands at his sides, his mind searching for the perfect comeback. “I’m going to look into it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Jones. You’re a man, you can’t understand all of this,” Regina’s eyes twinkled with an evil streak that almost made Killian recoil. “She’s a woman who’s been heartbroken and deceived. That can make you do unspeakable things.”

“Does it? How would you know, Madam Mayor?” He couldn’t resist the barb.

“I’m not the one being investigated, Sheriff,” she replied in a firm tone. “I suggest you focus on the case at hand. If you’re so sure she didn’t do it, find out who did.”

/-/

Killian hated this convoluted case with every beat of his once cold and now very much feeling heart. Those were the thoughts running through his mind as he put on a pair of latex gloves and started his careful canvass of the loft. He checked the door and the windows for any signs of a forced entry, but there were none. He was ruminating on that, his eyes fixated on the glass of the window, when Henry’s voice reached him from the front door.

“What are you doing?”

“Why aren’t at school?” Killian’s irritation was noticeable in his voice. While he was no stranger to cutting school, his wayward years had started a little later than his boy’s. At Henry’s age, he’d taken solace in school, it was somewhere he could take refuge from the despicable foster family of the week (or the month) that had taken him in.

Ignorant of his musings, Henry walked towards him. “We have to help Miss Blanchard. She didn’t do it.”

Killian wanted to believe that with his very soul. He believed that. But he couldn’t let his guard down and show any partiality in this case, not even for a second, not even in front of the son he so desperately wanted to comfort at the moment. “That is what I’m trying to do, lad. I’m searching the apartment for any sign of a break in.”

He wasn’t sure why he was telling the lad all this. He knew he had to send the kid on his merry - or maybe not so merry - way back to school or his mother’s house. But Killian was desperate for company. It had always been like this. He’d convinced himself he didn’t need anyone after the loss of his parents and Liam, only to have Emma come barging into his life and become his everything. Now, a decade later, he’d been managing on his own, telling himself he didn’t need anyone, but it had only taken one look from Henry and one kind word from Mary Margaret for his resolve to crumble. With Mary Margaret now locked behind bars - and by himself, no less, - Killian clung to his son’s company as if it were the only thing that could keep him from falling apart.

“What signs?” Henry asked, bringing him back to the present.

“Busted door jambs, broken glass, muddy boot prints. That kind of thing.” Killian waved his hand in the air as his eyes studied the windows with scrutiny.

“You think someone set her up?”

“I don’t know, Henry,” Killian sighed, resisting the urge to run his hand through his hair, instead collapsing backwards onto Mary Margaret’s bed, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “What else could it be? But on the other hand, who would want to frame Mary Margaret?”

“My mom. She hates Snow White.”

Of course.

Killian turned his head to the side, his eyes finding Henry’s, ready to give his son a strong reprimand over his words. But when he met his hazel eyes, the look in his young face so much like Emma’s, he knew he couldn’t. “That won’t hold up in court, lad.”

A steady noise, as if something metallic were hitting a wall, interrupted his thoughts. Killian darted out of the bed, focusing his hearing to find the source of the sound, his eyes connecting with the intricate iron grate of the heating vent. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he removed the grate and stuck his hand in. It didn’t take long for his fingers to make contact with cloth, a cloth that seemed to be wrapped around a solid object. With a growing sense of dread, he removed the object, thankful that he still was wearing his latex gloves. But soon his thoughts became a curse as he realized he was holding onto a hunting knife.

Bloody hell.

/-/

Killian couldn’t even remember the fuzzy details on what happened next, other than that he mumbled to Henry that he needed to leave and go back to school. After that, he was unable to bring himself off the floor, lying there for a while, looking at the marks on the wooden floor. He finally shook himself out of it and made a call. He waited for the forensic guy to show up and left the knife with him, instructing him to canvass the area for any prints he could find, although he had an inkling they wouldn’t find any that didn’t match him or Mary Margaret.

With a heavy heart, he made his way back to the Sheriff’s Station. The sight of Mary Margaret behind bars almost did him in completely, but he knew he had to carry through this if he had any chance to help her. Breaking the news was hard enough, and the shock and hurt on her face was even worse to endure.

“The heating vent?” she asked, her voice small and insecure, her hands holding onto the bars. “Killian, I don’t know where the heating vent in my room is.”

“Someone did, and they planted a knife in it.” He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he knew he had to keep his distance for appearance’s sake. “I checked for signs of a break-in, and there is none.”

She rested her forehead against the bars defeatedly. “You don’t believe me.”

Against all his better judgement, he was by the bars in an instant. “Mary Margaret, look at me,” he pleaded with her. When she met his eyes, Killian did his best to reassure her. “I believe in you, lass. But there is evidence piling up against you by the hour. Every time I try to follow a lead to help clear your name, I run into more compromising evidence, that I can’t just turn a blind eye.” He took a deep breath, letting that sink in. “It’s time for you to get a lawyer.”

“An excellent idea.” Killian turned around as the voice resonated in the room and groaned internally at the sight of Gold on the other side.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Killian spat, putting a little distance between himself and Mary Margaret and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m offering my legal services,” Gold said with a smug grin.

What? It seemed that Gold was able to read Killian’s implicit question in his shocked expression, because he kept talking as he walked towards them. “Ever wondered why I was so adept at contracts? I’ve been following the details of your case, Miss Blanchard. And I think you’d be well-advised to bring me on as your counsel.”

“Why is that?” Mary Margaret asked, drying the tears in her eyes and wrapping herself further into her cardigan. She looked so fragile at the moment, that Killian groaned inwardly at the idea of her fate in Gold’s hands.

Gold kept his smug grin plastered on his face: “The Sheriff had me arrested for nearly beating a man to death, and I managed to persuade the judge to drop the charges.”

Killian felt the rage flooding him at the blatant intention of the other man’s words. “Asserting your influence by buying people’s beliefs isn’t what’s needed here, Gold.”

“It might be exactly what is needed here.”

“No. I need to do my job and find the truth!” Killian replied, getting closer to losing his temper at the other man.

“Enough.” Mary Margaret’s voice was barely a whisper, but it made Killian stop. “He’s right, Killian. I need help.”

Killian took two steps and faced her with a pleading voice. “Mary Margaret, I know people. I can make a phone call and get you some of the best lawyers in Boston to look into your case. Please, let me help.”

She smiled sadly at him. “You can’t get me a lawyer, Killian. You know how it would look. If you happen to find any evidence that absolves me, people can say you fabricated it. You have to stay out of it.”

She was right and he hated it that she was right. He hated that the only choice was to leave her in the hands of a man that didn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart. “May Margaret, please don’t do this,” he pleaded one last time.

Her hand reached for his through the bars and squeezed it. “You need to do your job, Killian, or else I’m screwed. So, just please – do your job the best you can, and you’ll prove me innocent. Until you do, I’m going to get Gold to help me.”

“Trust me. This is in Miss Blanchard’s best interests.”

Killian turned around and towered over Gold. “You better have her best interests in mind or you’ll answer to me, Gold.”

With the threat looming over them, he took a final step and left Mary Margaret with Gold, hoping it wasn’t the worse decision he’d ever made.

/-/

When Gold left, Killian checked on Mary Margaret, but she seemed aloof and distracted. After ensuring she was settled and didn’t need anything else from him, Killian headed back to the loft, a few heavy folders under his arm, determined to spend the rest of the day - and night - finding something to exonerate Mary Margaret.

He was climbing the stairs when Henry’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I have proof.” The lad held up a ring that held several keys. They looked old and rusty, as if they belonged in a medieval age museum. “This is how my mom broke in and framed Miss Blanchard.”

Oh Lord.

“Henry, did you take these from your mother?” Killian rose an eyebrow at his son, his finger pointing to the ring. “Did you steal them?”

Henry didn’t acknowledge the shrill note to Killian’s voice. “Yeah. The book says they can open any door.”

Killian tilted his head and took one step closer to examine the keys. There was no way those things could have worked. If Henry would have found a set of picks like the one he used to open locks then maybe he could consider it, but these….

“This won’t fit in the lock, lad,” he said gently, trying to ease down his son’s expectations.

“We have to try!” Henry jumped to his feet and quickly moved to try the keys in the lock. Killian noticed how his shoulders slumped with each unsuccessful try.

“Henry…” Killian called, his hand reaching to stop Henry’s movement. “I know you want to believe all the answers lie in the book and a cursed town, but you have to start living in reality, lad.”

“Just one more?” Henry begged, not willing to let the matter go just yet. He held one skeleton key out to him. “Can you try this one?”

He should say no. He should take this nonsense and nip it in the bud. But Killian was defenseless against his son’s pleading eyes.

Taking the key from his fingers, he silently tried it on the lock, his heart skipping a bit when it opened the door of the loft.

Bloody hell. This can’t be happening.

/-/

Killian decided to keep this discovery to himself, knowing full well that any proof he acquired by testing a stolen skeleton key wouldn’t hold up in court. He needed more - much more - and it would have to be obtained by legal methods in order to even think of pointing his accusing finger to Regina. As much as he hated it, he needed to wait this one out and keep on going through the motions while investigating on the side.

He was plotting out his next move as he headed back to the station and ran into David. The man seemed distracted, as if he were carrying a heavy weight in his heart. He’d pleaded with Killian to see Mary Margaret and while a huge part of Killian rebelled against the idea, he knew that Mary Margaret would like to see him. Maybe David could give her a little bit of hope and strength to endure this trial. Killian motioned for David to go into the station while he headed quickly to Granny’s to grab some coffee.

He was making his way back into the station when the sound of Mary Margaret’s voice made his blood run cold.

“When your phone records came back, when I found you wandering in the woods, when everyone thought you killed Kathryn, I stood by you. I never once doubted you.”

Killian took a deep breath, calming himself as he stealthily entered the room. Mary Margaret was standing and even from the distance, Killian could see the way she was crossing her arms over herself, her chin quivering as if she were having a tough time keeping it together.

“And, now that everything is pointing to me, you actually think I am capable of that kind of evil?”

Killian fisted his hand at his side, wanting to pummel David. He was about to take a step when Mary Margaret spoke again, tears streaming down her face.

“Get. Out.”

David tried to take a step towards Mary Margaret’s cell, but Killian quickly jumped into action the moment he saw Mary Margaret taking a step back.

“Leave, mate,” he all but spat the words, striding purposefully into the room, his eyes levelling against David’s. “You asked to see her and I thought maybe it was a good idea for her to have some support other than me… and this is what you came to say to her? Fill her heart with the despair of your doubt? Leave, now… you don’t deserve her.”

You’ll never deserve her.

He watched David’s eyes filled with tears as he took his leave, but Killian couldn’t find it in his heart to feel sorry for the man. Only one thing invaded his thoughts; Henry had got it all wrong. There was no way that man had fathered him.

/-/

Killian volunteered to spend the night with Mary Margaret at the station, but she’d refused profusely, sending him home to the loft. It wasn’t a night where he got much sleep and the early morning call to the forensics department only cemented his worse fears. He picked some coffee and breakfast from Granny’s for Mary Margaret and headed to the station.

Mary Margaret was sitting on the cot when he entered the station. “I brought you breakfast,” he announced as he slid the cup and bag through the cell bars. Mary Margaret took the items but refused to meet his eyes.

Killian pushed through the sadness this entire situation was causing him and tried to maintain a level tone. “I know Gold probably instructed you not to talk to me, and I understand why, but I want you to hear from me that the DNA results came back positive for Kathryn Nolan.” He swallowed hard and met Mary Margaret’s eyes. “She’s dead.”

Mary Margaret remained silent, as if she weren’t listening to him, her gaze lost in the distance. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded small and uncertain. “This means you have enough evidence for a case against me, doesn’t it?”

Killian forced himself to continue. “Aye. But you know I believe you, right? All of this only tells me that you’re being framed.”

“Framed? By whom?”

“Regina. I’m certain but-”

“But you can’t prove it. And this is her town. Trying to build a case against her is almost impossible, Killian.”

“I will do it. I promise. I will get you out of here.” Killian reached to hold Mary Margaret’s hand through the bars. “I need you to have faith in me, Mary Margaret.”

She lowered her gaze as she spoke. “I have faith in you.”

He could hear the lie in her voice, and while part of Killian’s heart broke at it, he also couldn’t blame her. Regina was powerful, and Killian was nothing but a simple man, tilting at windmills on his own.

He needed help and as much as he hated it, he knew what he had to do if he wanted to save his friend.

/-/

He hated being here, he did, but he had no other choice. Killian sighed as he stepped into Gold’s shop and called for the man. It was less than a minute before the other man showed up, limping slowly as he held a lamp in his hand.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” Killian didn’t miss the disdain with which Gold pronounced the last word and while he wanted nothing more than to simply turn around and walk out, he knew he couldn’t afford to. “Any developments in the case I should be aware of?”

Killian tilted his head to the side. “She’s being framed.”

That seemed to pique Gold’s interest. “By whom?”

“Regina.”

“I’m not surprised,” Gold said, his hand grabbing a magnifying glass to study the lamp. “Where’s your evidence?”

“Well, that is the crux of the matter, Gold. I have nothing that can hold up in court.”

“So just your faith?” Gold spat, smirking at him. “Are you here to discuss your hunches with me?”

Killian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to say the words. “I need your help.”

“I seemed to recall you telling me you’d never wanted to liaise with the likes of me.”

Gold was not going to make this easier on him, but Killian was willing to take it. Mary Margaret had to come first. “May Margaret needs your help, Gold. Every time I try to go against Regina, she sees it coming. I need a chance to save my friend.”

Gold examined him. “Are you willing to go as far as it takes?”

For Mary Margaret? For the one person other than Henry that had trust in him and welcomed him with open arms? “Whatever it takes.”

Gold smirked. “Now we’re talking. Fear not, Mr. Jones. Regina may be powerful, but something tells me you’re more powerful than you know.”

Killian felt as if he’d just sold himself and Mary Margaret to the most despicable evil that ever existed.

#cs ff #lenfaz fics #time upon once #captain swan #canon divergence

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