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echantedtoon · 5 months

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Rules Of One's Soul Ch25 Ball

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. if you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, adding it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Toby Fox for creating such wonderful characters for us all.)

It was...just as they promised.

Rouxls took the last day off, with supervision of course. After that little scare both Seam and Jevil insisted that he stayed right there with them so they could keep an eye on him incase anything happened. So, Seam (forced him to sleep in) offered Rouxls his bed for the night, and he at first refused, but he was too mentally exhausted to argue for too long. So he took his offer, and fell fast asleep. Probably one of the most peaceful nights he had. He slept in rather late as well, because when he woke up he saw the blurry vision of Seam STILL sewing the black cloak he had been working on for a while now and Mak passed out lightly snoring on the couch, still wearing the small purple suit but now it was wrinkled in their sleep.

"So you're awake I see" Seam said with a smile, not even looking up from his sewing. ''I hope you slept well."

The worm groaned and reached up a blue hand run through his messy shiny hair. Slowly sitting up and looking to the cat with a tired grin. "...Yes. Thank thee." The blankets were tossed over, and his legs swung off the bed, And he slowly stood to his feet. Slowly stretching out his dark blue body and still Seam didn't look at him when Rouxls looked in his direction. "And howest didst thou sleep?"

"I slept rather well, thank you. But you must've been more tired than myself as you slept in rather late today, it's almost afternoon." Rouxls ground and reached to grab for his suit coat hung up on the bed post. Seam busying himself by doublechecking the stitching he had just done, bringing the black cloak up to his one good eye to peer at it. He was almost finished really, he just wanted to double check on everything before he decided to wear it. "So when does this celebration start if I may ask?"

Rouxls had just finished buttoning his coat shirt and sighed. "Tomorrow afternoon at five o'clock sharp. I musteth leave tomorrow to make sure all are according to plan-"

"After you're break today. You did promise us you would take time off today after all, and it would be rather rude to go back on your promise."

The worm paused what he was doing and despite him wanting to go and deal with the nonsense and chaos coming to prepare for the ball..He sighed in defeat. "Very well. Thoust shall havest mine word on it, but has thou been up to now?" He finally turned to the duke, who was currently running his hands through his head to try and tame his wild bed head but nodded to the cloak in his paws. "Thou haseth been working on that clothing for a longe time. What ever tis it for?"

"Oh this?" He held up the cloak and the duke nodded. "Oh, it's just an old coat I plan on wearing tomorrow on our little outing. It just needed some fixing from all these years, but it'll do in a pinch. But that also begs another question, what do you plan on doing until tomorrow afternoon?"

"I shallst keep to mineself and reopening mine shoppe for today." A smile came over the duke's features and he chuckled. "Who knowest how many Darkners forgotten to gettest their special someone something last minute.~ Mine profits and funds shall rise substantially."

He hummed and went back to sewing his cloak again. "I see. Are you planning on doing that for the entire time you're waiting?''

"...N-Nay. I'm also going to best thinking about f-future events, and ..a-and what wouldst be best for mineself and Lancer."

"And have you decided yet?"

A pause...And he heard footsteps walk past him and glanced up to see Rouxls stand in the doorway but smiled and looked back to him. "N-Not yet. B-But I havest plenty of time to thinkest it over. A-And perhaps a new speculation on mine life is just what I needed for a long time."

Seam chuckled again. "I suppose we could all use a fresh start every so often, but I want you to know duke. I'll support your descicion whichever you decide."

Rouxls smiled wider. "Thank thee. I shall seest myself out. I shall pick thee up by four thirty sharp tomorrow."

"Just be sure to be ready by that time tomorrow. I'll be expecting you, Mr. Kaard.~"

It seemed the whole day and a half of waiting for the two went by in a blink of an eye. He wasn't sure what Rouxls was doing within that time frame, but for him he was quite busy. More busy than he has been in a while. It took most of the rest of that day to finish sewing up the cloak back to it's former glory and it...it still smelt musty so into the wash it would go. Mak woke up not too long after Rouxls left and awakened with a snort and looked up at him. "Breakfast time??" He chuckled and offered to trade a giant diamond to wash the suit they were wearing and they happily agreed seeing the baseball sized diamond in his paw. Ok. So he got the laundry to go, what else could he do to prepare? ...Well what else to do but do what he usually did to pass the time in his life, he opened his sheap for a limited time this day. So he took down the closed sigh from his flap, gave Mak some food they gobbled down, and sat down at his usually spot behind the counter and waited. It didn't too long for three panicked Rudinns to come scurrying in and frantically looking around for anything they could grab for...the holiday he guessed, and came up to the counter. Each having a small bag of dark candy and one also grabbing a can of food along with it and the three threw money at him before slithering off just as fast away from the sheap....Well. If this is certainly how Rouxls said it would be, things just might be a bit more busy around here in the next few hours. AT least that's what he thought as his paws calmly went and picked up all the darke dollars thrown at him and he got up to pick up the few that fell onto the floor. Yep. It was looking to be a profittable time. And he wasn't wrong. Throughout the one day alone more darkners, mostly Rudinns with the occasional hathy or club, would make their way in and look around for what exactly they needed before exiting just as quickly with what they wanted. Most of it was tiny bags of dark candy, but their was also the occasional darkburger, tea mix, and at one point he even finally sold his spooky sword to a hathy. She said something about her husband always liking edgy looking things. Whatever the heck 'edgy' meant. But it wasn't over crowding, the most everyone would be in there was maybe four or five at a time and they'd leave just as quickly. Mak certainly wasn't enjoying the big crowd and just stayed in the back while occasionally poking their head out to ask a few questions.

"When's Jevil coming back?" "Lunch time now?" "Is my suit done yet?" "Where's my crayons?"

He chuckled and sat there and did what he normally did, meditate the hours away until someone else dashed in and he'd watch them scramble, buy, then leave then start his whole process again. The hours ticked passed and when a small period went without anyone, so he thought it'd be a good time to close up shop. He just got done sealing the flap of the sheap with the closed sigh hanging up, when he heard the familiar sounds of Mak's maniac laughter which could only mean one thing. He smiled as he walked back into his home and sure enough the sight of a very tired Jevil sat upon the couch and Mak was happily showing him their new giant diamond Seam gave them. The imp smiled and patted them on the head before flopping back into the couch's soft cushions.

He chuckled as he walked in and made for the armchair he always sat in. "Well, how was your day of work and playing with the little king?"

Jevil didn't even look up from his tuckered pose position. "Exhausting, exhausting. Rouxls, Rouxls has much to do around the castle and watching a child, child while practicing tricks is not easy, easy work at all. Even for myself, myself."

"Says the one that can do anything?," he chuckled as he sat down across from him.

Jevil chuckled. "I never said I couldn't, coudn't do it. Only that it wasn't easy, easy. But where is Rouxls, Rouxls?"

"He's at his shop resting as far as I know. He said he'll be back here tomorrow to escort Mak and myself to the castle, but how is that routine coming along? I would've helped but I vowed to retire from that life long ago."

..Jevil sighed before smiling wider and finally opening to look at him. "I respect, respect your descision old friend. But I will be able to perform tomorrow, tomorrow if I sleep all night tonight. If it means Rouxls, Rouxls and you will like it."

He chuckled. "You know I've always loved your tricks my dear friend. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thank you, thank you." He smiled at him...before his smile disappeared for a moment and he turned his gaze to the ceiling. "Seam, seam?" He hummed and Jevil deflated a little with a sigh. "You know I can never, never apologize enough for my actions all those years ago, and I may make up, make up for my mistake...B-But if Rouxls chooses you or neither, neither of us...Would you mind, mind if we were still, still......I mean..Have, have a second chance at what once was between us, us?"

A silence followed and the cat was staring in surprise at the nervous form of jevil silently laying on the couch awaiting the cat's answer with fear as to what he might say. There was no way he wanted to be left alone after all these years of having no company except for guards delivering food or Lancer occasionally, and after he had discovered he had two soulmates he made peace with. But...it all depended on their answers. He was still dreading what Rouxls would eventually pick, but Seam-...He feared more. But as the cat Chuckled he squinted his eyes shut, fearing the worst.

"But of course. I couldn't imagine life without you again."

Like a spring his eyes snapped back opened and looked to the cat in disbeleif. "WHAT?!"

He just calmly shrugged and smiled. "I already forgave you, you apologised, and life is as normal as it'll be under the circumstances. Why wouldn't I accept an invite like that from my dearest and oldest friend- OOF!!" He didn't get a chance to finish before a purple blur suddenly jumped on him in the form of Jevil hugging the much larger cat as best as he could, Seam freezing up for a good moment or two, before chuckling and reaching up to pat the gremlin on the back.

"Thank you, Seam, Seam."

"Of course. But perhaps we both should get some sleep now. We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

*************************************************************************************************

Seam awoke the next morning to Mak asking for Breakfast and Jevil gone. Guess the royal jester was needed for rehearsal and all that with a ball. Which suited him fine. Not only did he himself had to get ready, but it was going to be difficult to convince the child to do anything of the sort, and he couldn't very well leave them here by themselves. They would've probably been ok, but he would've been a bad caretaker if he left the child there alone by themselves. First order of business was coaxing them into a bath, but of course like any child they refused and he had to brib them by offering them more shiny objects for their collection if they did so, which thy did reluctantly but they didn't like it. He'd make it up to them later when he was finished grooming himself....He was not fond of baths himself. One being because it was a cat thing, and another reason being because whenever he did take a bath his cotten always felt weighed down by all the water soaked into it and his stitches always strained. Nothing a magic drying couldn't fix, but that always left him rechecking all his stitches and brushing all his fluffed up fur. Especially the orange tuft of fur around his neck, it always fluffed up to make him look like some kind if lion, Mak laughed when it happened this time as he rain his claws and brush along the dum mane of hair and the rest of himself, repatching stitches and sighing after the amount of work fixing himself always took. Mak wasn't any better. They would let any part of them be brushed and even after he offered them something in return, only let him fix up the top of their head before clambering back into their suit and letting Seam fix them up and straighten their bowtie back into it's proper place, before throwing on his own black cloak. It had been slightly over a hundred years since he wore it, so he wasn't surprised when it was kinda snug, but it still fit fine all the same at least. He straightened out what he could and even dawned a fancy dress pants to match with it. When he was finished he summoned a mirror with a snap of the fingers and took a look at himself. The cat in the reflection smiled back as he inspected the cloak around his shoulders. The smooth black velvet had gold stitchings on the shoulders and hem and while it didn't go all the way down to his feet, it was still long enough to sheild his arms from sight unless he poked them out, and two large buttons were sewn to the left side of the suit with golden strings attaching them to the other side. Why- He'd say he'd look just like he did nearly a hundred years ago in this, even after his accident which left one of his eyes to be replaced by a button, minus all the patches he had now. Below him Mak was smiling and messing with their bowtie as if still readying themselves for the giant event. He chuckled and patted their head before snapping away the mirror.

"Are you nervous about the party?"

"Nah. Just hungry."

He chuckled again and made for the armchair he was all so familiar with. "Well just remember to behave yourself while we're there, and don't cause trouble." He sighed as he sat down into the comfy armchair and relaxed back into it's soft seat. Snapping his fingers to summon a flame before throwing it into the fireplace, lighting a fire in it's place. The kettle over the fire slowly starting to heat up.

They didn't have to wait too long. Time flew by as he sipped his tea and Mak..was playing with whatever shiny object they had collected recently, but there was no mistaking the sound of the flap opening and fancy heeled footsteps approuching the backroom. Seam hummed and looked to the old clock against the wall. Four thirty sharp. Well the duke wasn't a lier, he did show up to get them at four thirty sharp, and he smiled and turned to the doorway- And blinked in surprise at the sight before him. This could NOT be the duke. This fancy dressed up make up wearing beautiful GODDESS!! Could not be the duke. The blue man that was standing there was wearing fancy white, shiny heeled boots that stopped by his knees, fancy black dress pants and an even fancier blue and white velvet coat shirt. Gold shiny buttons shined from the coat shirt and the long elegant blue cape drapping over one of his shoulders and flowed down until it was a few inches away from the floor. Black spade markings lined the coat and white velvet gloves pushed the coat away for a moment. A small necklace hung around his neck with a shiny black spade and matching earrings were hanging from his pointed ears, but all that was nothing compared to his face. The shiny white hair that usually drapped down his back was now styled in an elegant braid drapping over his left shoulder and any left over small strands were curled framing his face. His eyelashes, looking like they had been curled, brought out his pretty mitchmatched eyes as they fluttered at him and Rouxls smiled. The worm quickly took notice of the cat's staring and the small pink to his cheeks, he's always had this effect on people, but this somehow made him feel more...bashful as the blue man looked down and reached up to push one of the white curls away.

"Art thou pleased with mine look?"

Seam didn't respond at first but coughed before giving a polite smile. "O-Of course. You look rather handsome tonight, Duke." Despite his initial shock at first, he calmly stood up and Mak poked their head out of their corner. Upon seeing Rouxls, they clambered out and bounded over by Seam's side as he rose a hand and snapped his fingers. The fire instantly disappeared and Seam turned back to him. "Sorry. Have to take precations."

Rouxls just bashfully cleared his throat. "T-Thank thee. Art thou r-ready to go?"

Seam patted Mak's head. "Yes. Are you ready to take us?"

His Only answer was smiling and held his hand out. Seam reached down to pick up Mak and calmly put the child under his arm before his bigger paw grasped onto Rouxls's and for a moment the two stood there and flushed, before he felt a sudden build up of magic and a blinding white light captured them both. It was a very strange and weird feeling to be sure, the light bodied nothingness feeling just felt..Strange. So when the three of them landed down on a path, thank goodness, instead of hard stone of the castle and much to his embarrasment, he fell over flopping softly onto the ground and coughed a few times. Blinking away the bright white light and staring up to the dark sky as feeling came back to his body and he realized his fur was standing on end. Mak grunted and crawled out from under his arm and shook the dust off themselves, just as Rouxls leaned over him with a concerned look over his face.

"Oh my. I amst so sorry! A-Art thou alright?"

"Yeah. I'm good." He grunted as he sat up and Rouxls comically pushed his back until the taller cat stood to his feet. The nervous worm quickly dusting him off and he shook his head, feeling slightly embarrased he fell over like a goober. Rouxls's way of teleporting was MUCH more different than Jevil's. He was used to the tight compact feeling of Jevil's twisting teleporting, but he guessed even Rouxls's way was more fancy of doing it. But he paused as Rouxls was still dusting him off and moved to the front of his magnificent cloak. And paused. "Oh. We're here."

The giant looming figure of the Card Castle's shadow towered over them as the cat stared and his button eye spun. He didn't even realize Rouxls had grabbed his paw and began to pull them forwards towards the castle's grand entrance. And Seam only watched as the castle grew closer with Mak bouncing at his heels, the front doors being guarded by two giant Rudinn Rangers who lowered their weapons once the duke waved them away. It was almost like nothing changed. The pathway was still as stone cold as he remembered and the anxeity of all those eyes possibly on himself again for being the old magician. Would everyone look at him funny? By being the duke's date he was bound to get some attention, but that was the least of his worries. WOuld the kings be displeased to see him? It had been quite a while and he wasn't sure if Rouxls told anyone of him being his date for this whole night, but it was still terrorfying. Even if noone knew or remembered him, he was sure he would get some attention for just being on the duke's arm, or more likely the duke being on his arm, but it still made him nervous. And when he blinked, brain catching up with him, he finally noticed they were in the castle. The many, MANY red and pink decorations lining the other wise drab hallways. A lot of giggling and smiles from the many staff and guards were a refreshing sight and calmed his nerves even if only a little bit. Mak was giggling and running around startling some of them and eyes wide at all the shiny decorations, and startling a few of the people watching the child floating around. But no one was looking at him, but he noticed a few people gazing towards the duke then away again. Despite his calm and polite smile, he felt a bit of annoyance at seeing the smiles sent Rouxls way, guess he couldn't help it. Despite what Jevil said, he wasn't the best or young looking. Scars and patches here and there. One eye. Stitches. He was only a few years older than Jevil and a few they were both older than Rouxls by a few more, but he still gave off the aura off being much older. Jevil was always saying it was because of how wise and patient he was, but he always knew it was more his appearance. But he was most surprised when the pair turned a corner and ran into two tall darners wearing suits and with professional faces. He was sure with his limited memory this was the rather large throne/ball room and by the way Rouxls was smiling excitedly at it, his gut feelings was correct. The worm suddenly stopped when Seam did and looked over his shoulder, white brow raising in confusion. The cat had grabbed the stuffed bat for a moment and kneeled down eye level with them for a moment.

"Now do you remember what we talked about?," He questioned and they nodded. "And what did we talk about?"

"No biting or scratching."

"And behave yourself. Can you do that?" They nodded again and he patted their head before standing back up and letting them run ahead to the doors. ROuxls excitedly lead him to the doors and nodded to the two in front of the doors as the child bounced excitedly at the doors waiting for them to open.

At Rouxls's nod, the two Darkners in suits both reached over and grabbed a door each and pushed them open. Seam was NOT prepared for what was on the other side of the doors. His good eye widened and his button one spun about as the doors opened and bright candlelights lit the room and bounced off the many MANY giant glittery decorations lining the wall. His ears twitched towards the left where a band was playing ballroom dance music even though no one was dancing(yet) and he couldn't beleive he just now noticed these sounds. Even though they were around half an hour early arriving, their must've been around at least fifty fancy looking darkners around them wearing glittery jewelry and other fancy things he didn't care for, but it seemed Mak did as their eyes widened before they ran off in a seperate direction giggling to themselves and disappearing into the crowd. Not that the two noticed. Seam was still star struck at the incredible sight of it all. Over to the far left near the winows was a very VERY large and long tabled filled with food: two gigantic roasts, a giaint salad, a chocolate fountain with bowls of fruit around it, a few cakes king sized, a punch bowl, a...giant bowl of Salsa(??), some platter of some kind of cookies(they were shaped like something but he didn't know what), another giant bowl full of dark candy, and a few other things he couldn't make out from the crowd clocking it. And there sitting on the thrones, were the kings and Queens themselves. Ah! He remembered them well. The Clubs were talking to their four headed queen. AH! King Heart and his beloved Queen Amory, the two looked so loving together as Mrs. Hearts fed her husband one of those strangely shaped cookies, and the Diamonds-...Well. They still looked as unhappy in their marriage as usual. The giant Rudinn was rubbing his temples and Mrs. Diamonds was glaring boredly at her surroundings. He chuckled- Until he saw him! The little jevil himself! There was a few wooden stands were in the middle of the floor a few feet above the audience with 5 performers. Four of them were simple jacks. 2 juggling a couple of harmless pins to each other on the stands above the crowd, the third a contorshonist curving his body into impressive poses impossible to most, and the last one laying on a bed of hot coals. The coals safely inside a suspended fireplace for everyone's safety. And in the middle stand of them all was the man of the hour themself. The purple menace hand't noticed them at all yet and wore a jester outfit similar to his regular one, only this one was made of black and gold velvet. The gold parts shiny and flashing brightly thanks to the devilknives he was juggling....and the devilknives were on FIRE!! He sat cross-legged in mid air and easily juggling four devilknives on fire, smiling widely and cackling at his work-

"Sir Duke and Royal Advisor Rouxls Kaard of Puzzles and Card Castle!!...And his plus one Retired Royal Court Mage Seam!!" Seam flinched as someone inside the door way called out Rouxls's official title and a LOT of people turned to see them, the kings included...He guessed someone told them about him too. Rouxls gave a smile and squeezed his paw almost comforting as he gently pulled the startled cat along into the room.

At the announcement of them two specific people caught their attention. Jevil snapped he smile over to them and paused. His yellow eyes widened first at Rouxls. The worm's hair and eyelashes naturally glowing and lighting himself as his fancy eyes met Jevil's and he bashfully smiled back...Jevil's hands didn't stop that expert juggling as he had developed to perform as second nature but he visibly gulped and his eyes slowly widened and had a pinkish hue to the bottom of those yellow orbs. But they started to become fully pink when he turned to Seam and saw the outfit he was wearing. The old but fancy magician cloak was simple compared to Rouxls or his or anyone else's outfits, but it suited him to a T and all the happy memories of him and Jevil performing and being happy came rushing back- And his smile came back even more wide as Seam calmly smiled at him too. His cackling growing as he juggled. The second person jumped up on their throne as soon as Rouxls's name was announced before jumping off said throne and began zooming through the crowd towards them. Pushing past others and excitement dripping over their young face.

"LESSER DAD!!" Rouxls's head snapped to the left and smiled widely kneeling down and holding his arms out just as Lancer grunted and squeezed between two darkners before coming free and running towards the worm who easily captured the young boy in his arms and happily brought the giggling boy up in his arms. Seam smiled and peered curiously at the small boy in the duke's hold, finally getting a look at this famous young king. The child was dressed in a small fancy uniform and cape, with a white crown on his head. A blue tongue stuck out of his mouth as she giggled and his tail wagged happily as his face hole that was apparently his face stared at his father. "Where were you? I thought your break was over."

Rouxls chuckled and bounced him a few times. "I waseth...a bit busy with a fewest new things and visiting someone." He turned to Seam who reached a paw up and waved to the small pup who tilted his head at him. "Lancer. Tis a friend, Seam."

"...You look really fluffy and tall Mr. Grandpa cat!"

Seam's brow rose, not expecting that kind of reaction from the child, but chuckled either way as Rouxls groaned softly. "Well, I'm happy you think so, Young King. " He bowed. "And what a brave little man you are."

"YEAH!! Lesser Dad is my noble steed too!!...Whatever a noble steed is." He said proudly and both men couldn't help but chuckle.

"Were you good while I was gone?"

He nodded. "YEAH!! I got to play with Uncle Jevil, and he made sure I got all the food I wanted, and he let me watch him practice, and he made me do boring homework with the teacher guy, and then I had to take a bath." He sucked in a breath to keep going. "And then I had to wear this itchy suit, but I got to eat ice cream for breakfast today!!" He took a moment to look at his father. "WOW!! You look really pretty, Dad!"

Rouxls rose a brow at him at the ice cream bit, but still smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, and you look as handsome as ever." He gave him a kiss to the forehead to which the child giggled at but shook his head.

"And Ralsei's coming!! I don't know when because his letter said his parents were busy, but he promised he would come!!"

He chuckled. "I look forward to meeting this Prince officially. We haven't been properly introduced since mine encounter longe ago with thine Lightner friends."

"This young uh..Prince wouldn't happen to be a small white darkner with glasses would it?" Seam asked curiously and Rouxls blinked at himbut Lancer answered before he could.

"YEAH!! He really cool!! Not as cool as Susie, but he can do really cool magic and is really nice!!"

He hummed and smiled again. "Well then I remember this Prince of Darkness. He and his friends visited my shop and fought Jevil. I was honestly surprised they made it out in one peice."

Rouxls blinked..before scowling. "What?..Art thou telling mineself that Jevil battled against children and thou let them?!"

Seam paused sensing Rouxls's now displeased scowl and shrugged nervously. "They lived, and aren't you the one who tried to stop them using puzzles and a powered up K-round?"

His frown deepened. "Mine puzzles were not thine best true, but they were made to trap and not harm and mine control crown -before it was destroyed by thine lightners- made thine K-round under mine control and I waseth going to stop it once it weakened thine lightners enough to store them safely within thine dungeon....I was NAY!! Intending on causing any harm or did so so carelessly, Seam." The cat didn't say anything this time and Rouxls sighed. "We and Jevil are goinge to have a longe talketh about this later." He quickly turned back to a small smile to Lancer and chuckled. "Now. Art thou having fun?" Lancer shook his head no. "Nay? What ever is thy matter?"

"Ralsei's not here and Uncle Jevil's busy...and everyone said I couldn't bring ANY toys and I have to sit on the dumb chair until Uncle jevil does his trick Routine." He pouted and leaned against his father.

"Oh? And when is Jevil going to entertain us?"

"He promised before my bedtime but it's taking too long!!"

Rouxls chuckled at his pouting and nodded to Seam to follow. "Well then. Now that I'm here, why don'tst thou wait with me while you wait for thou's friend, and gettest to know Seam better?"

"Is he cool?"

"Very.~ He was a magician."

Lancer's interest spiked up at magician and the pup stared past Rouxls shoulder up at the stuffed cat as he followed Rouxls back to the giant thrones. He was pretty anxious to be stepping up in front of the kings and queens no less, but to his surprise and absolute releif, none payed much attention then the usually 'Oh, I remember you. How are you these days?' kinda talk. Two of the four kings were too busy making googoo eyes at their partners anyways and one was busy trying NOT to notice the giant lady Rudinn they were married to. Lancer looked up at the kissig faces and made a 'yuck!' face and pointed at his mouth. Seam chuckling at the sight. Such a innocent child. Rouxls set him back down on the chair and Lancer groaned, falling back into the comfy seat as the other royals greeted the duke before going back to their regular business. Despite being next to the gigantic royals, Seam's attention was on the crowd. His good eye scanned the many, many couples swapping small hearts or giggling with red faces. One or two kissing each other. He thought he saw a flash on Mak every few seconds but couldn't be sure, and his eye went to Jevil the imp smiled seeing him look at him juggling before doing a flip in mid air looking like he was doing a hand stand without using his arms to stand and looked at him upside-down without stopping juggling and winked at him. Seam chuckled and waved back over to him- He hummed and turned back to the throne. Rouxls was now sitting in the throne with Lancer in his arms and said child was tugging his cape with interest.

"Are you really a magician?," he asked.

He chuckled. "A used to be. But I'm retired now."

"What does 'retired' mean?"

His paw came up to pat his head where his crown wasn't. "It means I don't work that particular job anymore. Now I own a store."

"Like Lesser Dad?" Seam nodded and Lancer smiled wider. "Uncle Jevil said you used to do tricks too!" His tail thumped wider in excitement. "Can you show me?! Please!!"

Seam hesitated for a moment, he hadn't really performed persay any tricks in a long time. But one look at Rouxls's smile encouraged him. After all, Jevil had made peace with their soulmates child, it was only fair he made a good first impression too. So he leaned down and held out his paws, both empty and not wearing sleeves. Lancer glanced at them curiously but jumped when Seam suddenly clapped them together, and slowly opened them to where he was holding a small toy in his paws. Lancer gasped at the cute teddy bear in his paws and reached out excitedly for it as Seam handed it over. Lancer was happy to examine the new toy before holding it to him in a hug and looked back to him bouncing and saying: 'Again! Again!' Rouxls was smiling wide now as was Seam as he performed another trick for the small pup. This time reaching behind his crown and then suddenly pulling out a single dark dollar, to which Lancer gasped in wonder and also took it when Seam offered it to him, shoving it into his pants pocket and asking for him to do it again. He smiled and happily performed a few simple tricks he remembered. Pulling a strand of tied together hankercheifs out of nowhere, which lancer also reached for excitedly. Making a small flame appear and turning it into different simple shapes like a circle, cube, flat surface, etc. Pulling a button out of his ear seemingly. And a few other harmless little party tricks a child like Lancer found amazing, the child was just fascinated with magic and he chuckled at his excitement. In the meantime Rouxls watched lovingly as Lancer was giggling and enjoying himself as Seam bowed as he clapped at his small performances. While this was going on every so often the announcer would shout out another name as more guests arrived.

"Princess Clover Clubs of Card Castle!!" King and Queen Clubs were excited and babbled as their small three headed daughter came up to them wearing a small crown for each head but that was about it. "Baron Mr. Elegance and Mr. Society of Great Bourd Pass!!" Two strange all white darkners made their way in about thirty minutes later and mingled with the crowd. Thirty minutes later."Royal Court Healer Ms Valen and her Husband!!" A slightly bigger than average blue hathy couple. Seam was starting to get the impression that most of the folks here were important court members and their plus ones/partners or just important people invited to the royal shindig. As the next ones also arrived around thirty minutes after the last. "General of War Sir Punch-a-lot and his husband!!" A VERY scarred up red rudinn ranger slithered through the doors with a slightly smaller green one and the red one gave a grumpy look around before rolling his eyes and letting himself be dragged in. Thirty minutes later. "Head Of Treasury and Staff Ms. Royal Coat Jack!!" A strange looking jack came in, but she just looked nervous and skittered in without another word. Huh. Guess she was the secritary Rouxls often referred to helping him. But the next announcement made Lancer perk up from his new teddy bear again thrity minutes later. "Esteemed Guest and Hero of the Darklands Prince Ralsei Durrmee of the neighboring Durrmee Kingdom!!"

This time a LOT of attention was focused to the doors as they opened and Seam looked too, wanting to get a look at this hero once again, and a small hush came over the crowd. Behind the doors strode in a teenage darkner. He looked-..Well exactly how Seam remembered. Same outfit too. Green cloak and hat, wide circle glasses, and red scarf. The nervous looking boy paused looking at all the darkners suddenly staring at him and he smiled nervously before waving a paw.

"Uh...H-Hi, Everyone." He quickly excused himself and made his way towards them. It seems the only ones who didn't stop were the band and performers, taking their jobs seriously no matter what happened. The nervous goat monster made his way through the crowd and Lancer's tail wagged even more as he came closer. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Pardon me, Ma'am. Oops! Sorry. W-Watch your footing, Sir." He said as he walked even closer to the royals who were now looking with smiles- Except for Queen Diamonds who seemed more interested in her jewelry. But the boy still bowed once he got close enough to the giant thrones and their occupants. "U-Um..Greetings, Everyone. I hope I'm not too late-"

''RALSEI!!" Lancer happily jumped off the Duke's lap and made for the teen still holding his teddy bear, said goat prince looked up just in time to watch the small spade pup hug one of his legs and giggled. Tail wagging. "YOU'RE HERE!! NOW IT WON'T BE ALL MUSHY AND BORING!! YOU WANNA PLAY WITH ME?!" All the adults (minus Queen Diamond and Clover) awed at the adorable sight of the teen giggling and patting his head in response. Clover's three heads were staring at the small goat teen with blue blushes even though each head had a different face responding to the blush. "Sure. If your dad doesn't mind." He looked back up at the duke still sitting in the throne smiling and watching, and waved a paw at him. "Um. H-Hello Mr. Kaard. Wow. You look really nice tonight. All of you guys do too."

Clover flushed deeper at that and Rouxls chuckled. "Nonsense. Thou arrived with plenty of time to spare. How waseth thou's trip?"

"F-Fine thanks." He straightened his glasses before looking down to Lancer. "And if he doesn't have any other duties, I'd be happy to catch up-"

"HEY!!" Most everyone jumped up at the sudden shout from one of the clubs princess's heads. "YOU PROMISED YOU'D BE OUR DATE TONIGHT!!" "I-It's fine if he wanted to spend time with him instead, I'll just be a little sad." "OH! I'm so excited! Our first date with a cute fluffy boy!"

"Uh..." Ralsei glanced to Rouxls for any help on the matter.

All of King Clubs heads looked displeased and about to say something a whole lot of somethings before his wife's heads spoke up. "Dearest we talked about this." "J-J-Just...l-l-let her have this moment..ok?" "Im fine with anything really." "HEY!! SHE'S ALMOST SIXTEEN!! GIVE HER A LITTLE SPACE!!" The five heads of his majesty stared at each other for a moment...before grumbling and not saying anything. "THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT!!" "Thank you, Sweetie." "T-T-Thanks." "Im still fine with anything really."

Ralsei still looked quite unsure before looking back to Clover. "U-Um..Ok. C-Can Lancer come too? I promised to spend time with him too."

The three heads looked at each other before the middle one spoke. "Would that make you happy and like us more?"

"Uh," he said still really unsure and looked at Lancer who nodded eagerly. "Yyyyeesss??"

"OK!! We can start by getting some roasted tree!!" She shouted before standing back up and walking towards him.

"Roasted what?"

He was nudged away by one of Clover's heads and Lancer happily bounced next to the two (or five if you counted each of Clover's heads as an individual) teens. King Clubs still not looking the tiniest bit pleased at his daughter's 'date' for the night at all.

"Do you think we're pretty?" "I thought we looked nice." "OF COURSE WE ARE!! WE HAVE STYLE!!"

"Uh..Yes?"

The last Seam heard of THAT conversation was Clover happily squealing to herself and still pushing the poor boy off with Lancer at their heels. At least the boy would be around two other kids and get to spend time with someone closer to his age group. But speaking of food, Seam gazed over to the table full of goods and wondered if there was anything to his liking. He didn't really have to eat being made of cotten, but anything he did eat was converted into extra magic later and who knows when that might come in handy? Rouxls seemed to mirror his same thoughts as he stood up and bid good morrow to the giant royals before turning in Seam's direction and gesturing to the giant food table in question. Seam nodded and the two began their way there, with Seam politely offering Rouxls his paw and the duke gladly taking it with a smile. The two made their way over past the others in the room and finally his one good eye was able to make out all the stuff on the table that was previously blocked from veiw...and his smile disappeared as he blinked. The last table sat a ....bowl of roasted tennis balls covered in cheese and-...a atcually honest to lightner tree that looked like someone tried to burn it but didn't do a very good job. Clover was there sitting on her hind legs and her front paws held a plate with ease. The giant plate had a couple of the tennis balls and a chunk of what he could only guess was this 'roasted tree' she was so excited about. One of her heads was jabbering to Ralsei while another one scarfed down what was on the plate. Poor kid was smiling nervously holding a plate with a single cheese covered tennis ball, obviously trying not to be rude...and LAncer was bouncing one of said tennis balls getting cheese all over the floor. The cat chuckled and shook his head. The poor kids. The duke and him at first stuck together looking at things but as soon as his eyes spotted the mac n cheese bowl he lit up and made a beline for it, leaving seam chuckling and looking around at all the other foods. He wasn't really that picky but none of it was really appealing to him yet. The roasts looked too hard and chewy, and he was never a big fruit or salad fan. And all the deserts looked too sweet for him. And there was NO WAY he was about to eat cheese covered tennis balls or burnt trees- And speaking of deserts. He chuckled when he finally saw the strange cookies and now understood why they were called 'Lancer Cookies', because they were all decorated to look like the young boy. He sighed and shook his head, going to move past the punch bowl since he wasn't really that thirsty....But paused when something...(or someone) slowly rose out of the punch bowl making a few darkners around them cringe in disgust.

It took him a few moments of blinking and staring to realize who it was, and when he did he sighed. "Mak. WHY are you in the punch bowl?"

The child blinked back. "I got thirsty."

His brow rose. "And so you decided to go swimming in the punch bowl?...And where did you get those sunglasses?" He now noticed the new and shiny sunglasses on top of their head. And he sighed. They were all sticky and wet now.

"Waiting for the surprise."

He blinked. "Surprise? What surprise?"

Before they could answer the same announcer that was shouting everyone's official statuses shouted out his voice from near the king's throne and he turned to look. In the meantime Mak slowly drifted back down into the pink punch and disappeared. "ATTENTION!! THE ROYAL PERFORMERS SHALL BEGIN THE SHOW!! PLEASE STAND CLEAR FOR THE CENTER STAGE!!"

Seam looked confused for a moment, but then sudden flashbacks of his old shows reached his mind. The audience of around a hundred darkners all gasped and stood aside when the jacks all stopped performing including Jevil as he caught the devilknives that he had been juggling this whole time. Each one being put out as he did and he watched in mid air as the five jacks jumped from their set up stages and began to push their own stage towards the middle one Jevil was sitting above. The five giant puzzle peice designed stages coming to fit perfectly with one another as he remembered it would and a small smile reached his face. Well, well. It had been quite a long time since he'd even seen a royal performance. Now was a good oppurtunity to witness one. Rouxls walked up back next to him watching curiously as he ate and the lights dimmed out until only two spotlights remained, one on the band that had gone silent, and one on the stage where all the performers including jevil had hopped off.

"ANNOUNCING LADY PAPER DOLL AND HER WONDEROUS BALLERINA DANCERS DOING THEIR FAMOUS WATERFALL DANCE!!" The man announced. "PLEASE EVERYONE STEP AWAY FROM THE DOORS!!''

Most everyone scrambled out of the way as the band started up some ballet sounding waltz music starting with violins at the same time the doors opened and in came not one but FIVE different all white white some black thin looking darkners dashed in through the dark. Making the audience gasped in surprise as they all jumped expertly and easily onto the table and could now be all clearly seen the spotlight. The biggest one was all white and stood in the middle as the black and white ones, four of those, all stood around her. All made similar ballerina poses as the music faded for just a moment before starting back up again, them moving along with it it gracefully. With the four smaller ones standing on their tip toes and slowly swaying their arms going a few yards away from the bigger one (the stage was fairly large and well built for such things) as their leader stood on one leg and reached her hand up as the soft flute music slowly died out once again and the other four stopped in a pose which left them on their tip toes and their arms pointed to their middles. They could hear the music conductor tap his music sheet stand and begin to wave his hands. Trumpets and violins started to play and they moved. The four began to move in similar motions, twirling themselves in circles while also circling their middle leader in a bigger circle as they spun, and who he assumed to be Lady Paper Doll moved as graceful as one would expect. She expertly brought her leg up high to stand on one leg and twirl around before taking a few graceful steps forwards the edge of the dancing circle before stopping, hand to her chest in fake distraught befor doing the same thing towards the other side before holding a hand to her forehead and dashing back towards the middle twirling a few more times before expertly 'falling' to the floor and laying limp like a ragdoll in a fake faint.

Seam hummed and leaned down to Rouxls to whisper. It was easy to see the worm as his white hair and eyelashes easily glowed in the dark giving him a beautiful aura. "They're very good. This Lady Paper Doll is quite graceful."

Rouxls nodded without looking at him. "Tis based on a true story about what someone sometimes experiences."

"Oh really?"

Rouxls nodded and pointed to Ms Paper Doll who had just now sat up to her knees and was fake sobbing and twirling her upper body in graceful circle motion to the music. "She represents the struggle someone goes througheth with their sad emotions when something devastating happens. And the four dancing around her-" He gestured to the still twirling ballarinas still doing circles while encircling her. "-represent the obsticles and circle of emotions thoust tis feeling. Which is why she's also metiphorically trapped within thine middle. Trapped within her own emotions and problems, which only go downwards as if one tis in a waterfall. Hence thy name Waterfall Dance. They're truly a remarkable group."

Seam didn't doubt that as he looked back to the lit stage from the dark audience. Lady Paper Doll then expertly held her hands up and pushed herself up onto her toes that resembled someone lifting a limp puppet. Twirling around a few more times before she blinked and held her head up to the light. Pretending to just now notice the light shining down on her. Reaching a hand up towards the spot light before she flinched and curled in on herself head down in fake shame. The four dancer had now stopped twirling and were facing her, the for gracefully ran up to her and held their arms above her as if metiphorically holding her down- Before she suddenly snapped back up. The four smaller dancers recoiled and treated back to their circle. This time running back to their circle, but instead of their twirling from earlier, they gracefully lept and ran around in a giant circle as the middle tallest dancer twirled a few more times before stoppong in the middle and striking a proud pose of her chest out, arms back and head held high. Rouxls smiled excitedly next to him.

"This is thine best part, the next steps represent her tossing the stress and thinges away from her and crumbling in sweet defeat and rising to thine goals!" He sighed. "Such beauty tis a work of art.~"

He had to agree. She stood in that pose for the longest time as the four others encircled her before she suddenly pirouletted and pivioted to the middle of said circle of ballerinas before stilling. One ballerina suddenly breaking the circle the circle and running towards her gracefully, the taller woman easily caught her and held her up in the air, the two doing a graceful pose before she let go mid spun and the smaller ballerina expertly 'fell' to her knees and slid a little away, hand to her forhead before 'falling' to the floor in defeat. Followed one by one of the other three who slid away and laid down in similar defeated poses which the audeience awed at and even Seam had to confess the ladies' were experts at their job. Leaving the spotlight on just the tall one and watching as the depressing and exciting music from earlier suddenly became more happy sounding and she prirouletted and spun in other dance moves he couldn't name as the song came to an end spinning happily and doing the same proud pose from before with her head and arms pointed backwards as the happy music finally ended and left. There was silence for just a few seconds before cheers and applause came from the audeince watching all around the stage and the other four ballerinas stood from their position on the floor to go stand next to their leader as they all curtsied to their audience. Seam found himself clapping along and smiling at the performances the ladies did for them. One by one they jumped off the stage and gracefully leaped back to where they came from. The balloroom still quite dark other than the two spotlights on the bandstand and huge stage. He almost did hear the announcer shout the next performers.

"UP NEXT!! THE JACK BROTHERS AND THEIR AMAZING BALANCE ACT!!"

The same four jacks from before all flipped and jumped from different parts of the audience onto the stage and struck a pose. Everyone clapping excitedly for the next act. Except for Seam. He recognized these old jacks and already knew their whole routine, if he remembered right they would start out with two of them standing on top of each other balancing on a ball and two others throwing juggling pins over the two flipping on the ball. And wouldn't you know it, one made a giant green ball appear, so Seam busied himself by turning around and grabbing one of these lancer cookies as the four performed, the audience including Rouxls watched captivated. Upon eating the cookie, he discovered it was just a regular sugar cookie with icing. He still didn't watch the performance when the audience gasped when one of the jugglers suddenly jumped onto the ball with the other two while still juggling back and forth with the one on the ground before they jumped, and was suspended onone of the bottom jack's held out arms, the entire time two jack's still juggling but now they were rolling the ball around moving around on the stage as they rolled around and juggled with expert balance, making the audience awe in disbeleif and he had finally turned around to look around at the crowd. It was dark but he was used to seeing everything in the dark besides lanturn light or his fireplace. He was looking for one small purple gremlin dressed in black ang gold in particular but he didn't see him anywhere. Now where could that little rascal have run off too this time? He was wondering if Jevil was planning some kind of grand entrance to the act, most likely. He always liked showing off to others around him. The four jacks was bouncing on the ball now, up and down a few times before one by one they jumped off the ball and the two juggling caught the pins and did poses with the other two. The audience roared again with excitement at the second performance as the four bowed to the watching crowd. Seam did too, more out of politefulness of the situation than actually watching the performance, but the four hopped off the stage and disappeared somewhere within the crowd not to be seen again for the rest of the night.

"NOW FOR OUR FINAL PERFORMANCE!! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! PLEASE WELCOME THEE ROYAL COURT JESTER SIR JEVIL!!"

The crowd both gave a mix of excited and unsure faces but all that changed once a giant puff of smoke exploded on the stage and Rouxls's and his smiles became wider. A small BOOM! noise also went off and gold confetti shot out everywhere. Some landed on the stage but some fell over the crowd, shining thanks to the spotlight. Happy cackling was heard as the dust cleared and there was the purple jester in all his glory, he giggled to the crowd and bowed. The bells on his hat jiggling to his movements, the gold parts of his outsit shining in the light. Here we go. They were in for quite a treat.

"Ahehehehehe!~ Welcome, welcome!! Let there be chaos, chaos!! Fun, fun!! But a word of warning, warning!" His held up his hands. "Please, please do not try to do what my chaos, chaos brings at home, home! They are quite dangerous, quite dangerous!!" He snapped his fingers and suddenly the band started playing some kind of upbeat circus music and the audience's main focus was on the clown as he Suddenly whipped out a metal hula hoop. He sucked a deep breath and his cheeks puffed out, Rouxls recognized it as the face he made before he blew fire. And sure enough flames came forth from the fool's mouth and the hoop caught fire. The iron circle was tossed away from him quickly after that and they guessed he must've been using magic to make it suspended in mid air on the other side of him, before he yet again reach behind him and summoned more devilsknives, around five. He was floating now and stood on the stage. Really showing how small he was compared to Seam and Rouxls. Without so much as a warning he began to easily juggle the sharp looking weapons as the flaming hot hoop came shooting at him. While STILL juggling, he easily jumped up a foot and jumped right threw the flaming hoop's middle, the hoop stopped before it could even reach the other side of the stage and they guessed Jevil must've been using his magic to make it go back and forth as he still jumped threw it whenever it got close enough and still juggled those devilsknives, cackling and happy all around at everyone marvaling at his skills. Bells jiggling wildly. "This is fun, fun!! But more excitement should be expected, expected!!" Without warning the devilknives were all grabbed by him one by one and shoved back into his black cloak disappearing while he still jumped through that flaming hoop, when the last devilsknife disappeared, he reached a clawed hand out and caught the flaming circle. Giving it a few shakes until it was completely put out and he held it up, showing it off with a smile.

Everyone clapped again including them and Seam chuckled. "An old but classic. I wonder if he shall do his famous No-throat sword swallowing trick or fire images."

Before Rouxls could answer, Jevil had already bounded to the other side of the stage before reaching over into the dark real quick as someone (one of the jacks most likely) handed him what looked liked a couple of long rods wrapped in an old cloth, he nodded to whoever handed him the thing before he made his way back to center stage, the audeince watching in silent anticipation. With his back towards the half of the audience that his two soulmates were and only stood back up when he unwrapped said cloth on the floor, a metal SHING!! sounded off as Jevil produced a shiny average looking sword in his hands and showed it off to the audience. "Again, again! Please do not recreate what you are about to see at home, home! Sword swallowing and playing with fire is a very, very dangerous skill even for me, me." The sword was tossed up without another word and it was suspended in mid air by his magic. One person in the band gave a drum roll as it slowly desceneded dowwards and to everyone's shock, the fool's head sprung off his shoulder with a spring and he opened those jaws wide. Rouxls's jaw dropped to the floor as his mousetrap jaws opened and the sword continued it's decent down and THROUGH IT!! The audience gasped when the sword seemingly disappeard into the void of his mouth until the handle was left and his spring neck wobbled. WHERE WAS THAT THING EVEN DISAPPEARING TOO?! Seam chuckled. He knew, Jevil was using teleprtation magic to give the illusion it was going down his none-existant-for-the-moment throat and instead most likely making it appear under the stage where the audeince couldn't see it, but it was still amusing to see their surprised faces. Especially Rouxls who looked at him bulged eyes. The drum still played when Jevil's hand flicked it back up and the sword began to retreat out of his opened jaws. As soon as the last few inches of shiny metal left his teeth, there was a crashed of symbols from the band stand and his neck sprung back down to his shoulder. Instantly like it never happened and he did another pose as the audienc roared again in applause, the sword dropping and being caught in his hand as he presented it back to his fans. Before setting it back down to his feet when another long metal thing was picked up by him. This time it was a long metal rod with some kind of giant fuse at the end. Like a long torch. The same hissing breath and puffed out cheeks signaled the flames before it erupted from his throat, blowing onto the end of the rod and catching it on fire just like a torch. He smiled and giggled at his handywork, holding it up and he looked around to the darkened audeience! "Hehehehe!~ Forms and shapes I make with flames, flames. But helpers I need to pick, pick what to form and dazzle you all!!"

Seam leaned closer to Rouxls. "He means he's going to pick a few people from the audeince to choose what magic picture he'll make with fire."

Rouxls gave a small oh and watched as Jevil tapped his chin and looked over the watching crowd. "Now, now! Who shall I pick to choose the first picture-"

"DO ME!! DO ME!!" Jevil's head snapped to the right and Rouxls suddenly groaned as Lancer was jumping and waving his arms a few feet away from the crowd in a very unkingly manor. "PLEASE! DO ME!!"

Jevil chuckled and bowed in the boy's direction. "But how could I refuse, refuse a request from our beloved King, King?" Everyone watched as Jevil turned his face and the flaming rod up towards the stone ceiling and sucked in another hissing breath, though this one seemed to take longer as his chest expanded at well- Before it all broke loose!! A large stream of flames shot out from his mouth and hit the rod as the flames' path widened and a HUGE wall of flames shot out above the audeince and spread out into lines forming the shape that was similar to the Lancer Cookies clearly intending to be the small boy. The audeince's eyes sparkled as the flames fizzled into nothing after a few seconds and immediately applauded the clown as he bowed his head, Lancer giggled and clapping his hands together from seeing his flame protrait. "Hehehe!~ Thank you, thank you!! As tradition I shall take four more requests, requests to equal five!! Who shall, shall request next?!" This time a lot more people raised their hands and shouted requests to the purple imp! And he slowly did them one by one. A rabbick for a Noble. Another flame portrait for Mr. Society. A lovely flower for King Hearts dedicated to Queen Amory, Rouxls awed at the romantic gesture King Hearts made towards his wife who herself gushed at the sweet thought. And lastly a diamond shape after Queen Diamond ordered it of him. Well...He couldn't disobey the Queens but King Diamonds looked rather embarrased as he held a hand over his face when it all happened. The rod was put out when Jevil stuck the entire flaming end in his mouth- Before removing it quickly and a fire giant stream of hot flame was shot over one part of the audeince who leaned away and gasped before applauding his efforts again. "Now for some old classics! But first please, please welcome by adorable asistant, asistant!!" He snapped his fingers and another bang and small explosion of smoke appeared something purple and grey shot out of the smoke cloud. It slid up to him in the form of Mak wearing those sunglasses and a kazoo in their mouth, blowing on it before posing and a poof of confetti went off behind them. "Now we shall begin, begin the fun!!''

The rest of Jevil's tricks were pretty basic tricks, He would summon props he needed or someone would hand him what he needed from the audience, and Seam watched as it went as followed. The disappearing box. The classic (fake) sawing someone in half. And the classic having Mak stand against a wooden wall while he threw small show daggers at them, expertly missing. And at the end the two did a pose at the end as everyone clapped for them and Jevil looked to the two soulmates standing to the side by the table. Giggling and-.. blowing kiss in their direction. Rouxls froze with a small squeak sound, immediately turning a darker blue and Seam chuckled at both their reactions as he and Mak bounced off the stage. The candles were relit and staff quickly rushed over to grabbed at the stage, pulling the puzzle peices apart and beginning to pushing them towards the front door the dancers had run through before, making more room in the large ballroom for one obvious reason. But they would get to that in a moment, right now everyone was starting to chatter to each other excitedly about the performances that had just been shown to them while others made their way for the food table. Seam felt sorry for all the folks drinking the punch, and the band started up with the calm ballroom music again. And Rouxls turned back to him with a wide smile.

"Thine Jester's performance waseth astounding!!" His wide grin and excited tone made Seam chuckle.

"I told you. Jevil's magical abilities are quite impressive."

A stream of maniac giggled from behind Rouxls made the worm jumped and whirl around and blink at the side of Jevil smiling, sitting in mid air, tail wagging behind him happily. "Really, really?!" He giggled more at the worm's slightly spooked face. Dark purple rushing to his cheeks as his head fell to his hands staring at the two of them lovingly. "Thank you, thank you. You both l-l-look so lovely, so lovely.~"

Rouxls cleared his throat and gave a polite smile and bow. "Thank thee. Thou art looking splendid as well. Thine performance waseth wonderful!!"

Seam nodded. "I agree. You're performances were just as magical as I remember old friend."

Jevil giggled even more and if Seam didn't know better, he would say he was flustered in the presence of both him and Rouxls dressed up in fancy clothing. More purple coming to his cheeks at the compliments, but what perked the old cat's attention was the sudden start up of exciting violins and the excited gasp King Hearts made. He watched as the giant hathy pushed himself off from his throne and turned to the other giant than average hathy bowing and offering one of his giant tentacles to her. She giggled and of course accepted his offer to her. His one good eyes watched as the two intertwined hathys made their way down the small steps of the throne and into the crowd of the ballroom. Seam knew exactly what was about to start happening and sure enough, a whole bunch of other darkners were bowing or asking their partners to dance and the dancefloor area was soon filled with the dancing forms of couples as they laughed and made googoo eyes at each other under the candlelights and pink and red decorations. Jevil watched them all for a moment before looking back towards Seam and Rouxls with expectance- Rouxls jumped in surprise when a soft hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him against an equally soft body.

"Sorry old friend." Rouxls eeped when he looked up and found himself leaning against Seam as the giant stuffed cat gave Jevil a patient smile. "I know we agreed to be equals but you had your date, so please allow me to have mine. But I assure you, you can come to talk to us when we're not busy dancing or whatever it is people do on dates."

Jevil blinked, clearly not expecting that but gave a smile at them anyways, "Fair enough, fair enough. I was feeling a little hungry anyways. " He looked back to the table just as the Royal Clubs couple walked by talking loudly to themselves and making a line for the roasted tree and sports section of the table. And Seam chuckled again before tilting his head down to Rouxls.

"I know I don't know how to ballroom dance, but I suppose I Should ask you if you would care to dance anyways."

Rouxls blinked flustered up at him and cleared his throat, looking down. "W-W-Wellst if t-thou c-can't dance I shant make thee dance if thou are nay comfortable with it-"

"Oh, I'm comfortable with it. I just don't know how to do the fancy dances they're doing." He gestured to all the fancy waltzes and ballroom dances the nobles and court members were clearly doing. Chuckling when he saw the Prince Ralsei trying to dance with Princess CLover but she was so bigger than him she just stood on her back legs as Ralsei nervously held her front paws and sort of rocked with her. Clover wasn't complaining though as her faces were a dark blue and Lancer was sitting on the floor next to him and playing with the teddy bear he had given him hours ago now.

Rouxls reached a hand up to nervously grip his braid and still didn't look at Seam even as the cat let go. "W-W-Well..I-I-If thou insists- " He blinked nervously when Seam bowed and offered a paw then.

"Well then Mr. Kaard. Would you like to dance?"

Roucxls could only stand there with a deep blue blush and Jevil chuckled behind him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a goldfish before clearling his throat trying to look perfessional before shakily reaching a hand out and grabbing the soft paw. It closed around his smaller hand and Seam leaned back up before gently tugging him and pulling him towards the dancefloor with everyone else. Rouxls looked nervous and gave a look to Jevil behinde him only to see Jevil waving him good bye. The fancy shining light and jewelry everyone was wearing was almost blinding as he was lead into the crowd and stopped. Pulled against another figure suddenly as Seam put them into the tradional ballroom dance pose, but instead of the fancy waltzing around them, he just gently made them start swaying in small circles. Which he was releived at. He didn't know if he could handle any real fast and fancy dancing with his legs feeling like jello. He looked up to Seam's face for a moment as he smiled back, his heart skipping a beat before he cleared his throat and looked away nervously again. The silence still going on for a moment before he tried to speak and break the awkward silence.

"T-T-Thou art a b-better dancer than thou thinkest."

"Well thank you. I'm sorry if I hadn't said anything yet. But I wanted to be sure you were just as comfortable speaking." there it was, the patience and consideration of the cat he always loved.

Rouxls chuckled bashfully and fluttered his lashed up at him. "W-Well thank thou. I appreciate thou's concerns for mineself."

"But of course. Why wouldn't I? You and Jevil mean a lot to me." He chuckled. "It's been so long since anything really mattered to me as much as this."

Rouxls blinked up at him lovingly and in surprise as they still circled around. The taller form almost blocked out the light making it bounce around him and make it almost like the cat was glowing, a being of light similar to himself. Which is why his brain possibly wasn't really thinking and he suddenly stood on his tip toes and pressed a kiss to his nose tip. Seam stopped completely surprised and Rouxls suddenly pulled away. Blinking up at Seam's frozen form and a sudden feeling of guilt came over him.

"O-Oh. S-Sorry! I didst not mean to makest thou uncomfortable-"

He chuckled. "No, no. It's alright. In fact I would say it was the best part of my night."

He blinked up surprised again. "R-Really?"

Seam nodded and Rouxls sighed, releived he didn't do anything wrong by his sudden boldness but he would make sure to ask first before he did anything else like that. He wasn't sure how long they stood there dancing in each other arms, Rouxls giggling if Seam's made a small joke towards him and still smiling. But the two were soon interrupted when a white paw pulled at rouxls's cape and the worm turned around curious and came face to face with Prince Ralsei. The goat darkner looks at him with a slightly guilty face, Rouxls stared down in his arms and noticed he held a sleeping spade pup. Lancer was lightly snoring in Ralsei's arms and cutely clutching the small teddy bear in his arms, the crown lopsided on his head and that spade hole in his face closed. He shifted a little in the goat prince's arms and gave a cute puppy yawn before curling into his warmth like any cute child would.

"Uh. S-So sorry to bother you Mr. Kaard. But Lancer fell asleep and I didn't know what to do." He held the child up to him and Rouxls smiled and reached for him. Lancer's face blinked open for a second and his mind woke up just enough to recognize Rouxls so when the worm picked him up, the pup wrapped his arms around his neck and laid his head on his shoulder still clutching the bear.

He grunted as he shimmied him into his hold. "Tis quite alright. Tis rather late after all, tis only natural Lancer fell asleep." He patted Lancer's back and looked back up to Seam. "Mine apologies but I must get Lancer to bed."

He held up his paws. "No, no. It's understandable. ...*sigh* I think I better find my small one too. They're most likely tuckered out after the exciting night they just had."

The two men and sleeping child excited the dancing crowd and spotted Mak pretty easily. Jevil was hovering beside them as they snored and laid on one of the chairs placed out for the guests. The imp chuckled and waved at the trio as they arrived and Seam sighed, reaching over to take the sleeping bat in his arms and looking over them. The sunglasses were crooked on their face, and they were all wet and sticky from the punch, but he soon found the extra weight to be a whole bunch of shiny jewelry stuffed in their pockets. He didn't say or question it and instead turned and started making their way towards the exit with Jevil shrugging and the two men followed after, neither saying a word to each other in fear of waking either children until they got to the giant doors that were pushed open by servants and closed behind them as the trio made their way out. Rouxls watched the doors closed behind him before turning around to the other two smiling men.

"I...I Hadst a great time tonight. I thank thee and apologise for thine trouble."

"No apologies needed. We might as well get going anyways." He held Mak up. "Plus Jevil is my lift back, these old stitches don't feel like walking all the way back home in the middle of the night." Jevil giggled next to him and nodded.

"Doth thou need me to showest thou where the door is?"

"No worries, no worries. I can teleport anywhere!" Jevil proudly proclaimed and Rouxls smiled even more before bowing his head.

"Then I bid thee both a good night..I shall seest thoust two tomorrow.~"

The two watched as Rouxls turned and made his way down a hallway and what they presumed to be the young king's bedroom...Before Seam turn also and began walking, leaving the sounds of music and laughter behind him, but could feel Jevil right behind him floating. The two went in silence for a moment before Seam finally stopped and inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly and turned to Jevil with a smile. And the imp smiling back the two sharing the same loving thoughts of each other and a certain snow haired duke. He shifted Mak into one arm and held out his paw to the jester. Jevil happily took the paw with a giggle and flush of purple. In a second both were suck up into the void, on their way home after such a loving night.

#deltarune nosuit #deltarune #nosuit #rouxlvil #jeam #seaxls #seavil #rules of one's soul #seam #seam x rouxls #rouxls x seam #rouxls kaard x seam #jevil x seam #seam x jevil #rouxls kaard x jevil #rouxls kaard #rouxls x jevil #jevil x rouxls #jevil

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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haztory · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

--erwin smith x reader; fluff, domestic, not canon compliant farmer erwin, there’s a mentioning of injuries but not enough to be considered graphic! (erwin lives!)

a.n: this is my attempt at swinging back into the ways of writing after a long, long, long hiatus! i wrote this in thirty minutes as just an exercise, but felt it was cohesive enough to post. its vague, abstract, and definitely not a magnum opus, but its something. this is more of an erwin story than an x reader one, but i hope you all enjoy regardless!

this was titled after a song on the pride and prejudice ost of the same name. highly recommend you give it a listen

anything for my sweet boy erwin ♡

(w.c: 1686)

At the initial prospect of it, retirement was somewhat akin to shooting oneself in the foot for a man like Erwin. It was condescending, debilitating, almost an insult were he any lesser than a reasonable man.

The word was floated around numerous times after the loss of his arm, spoken with a gentleness and, dare he say, a trepidation they believed must be adopted when speaking to the freshly injured man. For fear of upsetting him or for fear of making the situation real, he’s not quite sure. It was mentioned, nonetheless. In passing, directly, through implication; Everyone seemed to think that Erwin was less of a man and more of a liability because of his lost arm, and that retiring from the Scout Regiment would be the best option for everyone.

That was something he took offense to.

His physical abilities may be considerably limited now, yes, but he still holds inherent value to the cause he’s dedicated his life to. Still has goals, still has dreams, still has ideas that must be discussed and implemented if the fate of humanity is to even think about surviving beyond the next few days.

Erwin still had some fight in him, and he still had things to offer. Things that retirement would take away from him.

The word settled like a thick tar on his tongue and left a bitter aftertaste, one he couldn’t bear to swallow down. So he didn’t. He spit the word back out, removing it from his mouth and sternly asking others to rid themselves of it too. They followed his order, albeit begrudgingly, but the conversation ended then and there. Not permanently, unfortunately. No amount of power, Erwin imagines, could ever snuff out the growing fear his missing appendage has instilled in his soldiers. That even the most untouchable, unshakeable of leaders could be tainted by this cruel world.

He knows it's on everyone's mind, no matter how many times he can try to assuage the fears, for if the exchanged uneasy glances between his eccentric Section Commander and trusted Captain were anything to go by, then the fear his cadets must feel must be traumatizing. The looks they pass to one another when they think he isn’t looking.

Erwin lost an arm, not his intuition. It seems he’s the only one who knows that.

But they let it go. They all do, for now at least. They reluctantly put a pin at his assertion that he would continue his work, regardless of injury, and quickly filed this topic as one they would return to at a later date. Appease him now to make him more receptive to the future. They let him continue to work himself dry, let him continue with physical missions like he wasn’t missing a trusted appendage, and entertained his reckless and drastic thoughts to a certain extent.

When he lands himself back in the infirmary, this time with a serious rupture to the side of his stomach from flying debris, and a number of broken bones that will surely cause permanent hindrance to his mobility, the topic is brought back up again. Only this time, it’s non-negotiable. His near death was the final straw in forcing Erwin Smith into retirement.

∵

He hates it.

Hates how quiet his home is, hates how unexciting his routine is, hates not being able to know.

But he finds that making coffee is still manageable with one arm. The sun still shines as brightly inside the walls as it does outside. The birds still chirp excitedly in the morning and the wind still blows gently in the afternoon.

He hates retirement, but it’s manageable.

It gets better after a while, the presence of a neighbor making his nights substantially more interesting with the dinner she brings over.

∵

The house is quiet once again, only the distant chirps of the birds filling the empty space. It's familiar, but he finds it unsettling this time around. A feeling of anticipation creeping into his stomach, waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment.

It doesn’t happen.

With a slight furrow in his brow and after a long analyzing gaze outside the window above the kitchen sink, Erwin makes his way towards the front door, granting him access to the front porch of the house. Settled away from the city, the land his house is built on stretches for miles; Fields of green spread out before him and littered with tall, blooming and swaying trees. The chickens squawk and run around before him and the horses huff their snorts of boredom. There’s activity in the Smith residence, but it’s not the kind he’s looking for.

There’s something missing.

Bringing his left arm up to his mouth, he curls his fingers below his tongue, blowing out a loud and sharp whistle that has all movement still for a brief moment on his farm. All attention piqued on him, the animals and the trees alike waited for Erwin’s response.

They wait, and they wait, and they wait. But still, nothing.

The crease between Erwin’s brows dips further. A brief flash of worry settles in his shoulders. He pulls his fingers into his mouth again, blowing a whistle that lasts for a few seconds longer this time. His eyes stay trained on the hill before him, hoping to see something. Anything.

He waits a minute before the restlessness takes over and he takes his steps down the stairs of the porch, his boots crunching against the crisp grass still wet from the morning dew. He approaches the top of the hill, the one that lays level with the foundation of his house, before surveying the land further below. He looks left and right, then left again and then right again, eyes peeled for that familiar flash of grey.

Where in the world could that damn dog have gone?

The dog is usually fast enough to return before he even needs to whistle a second time, never straying too far from the property for her to not hear Erwin’s call. But this time is different. She’s gone and isn’t returning to him and that can only mean one thing.

Trouble.

He begins his trek down the hill, the morning still early enough to not have him sweating on this irregular stroll of his, but he can feel the temperature slowly rising through the air. The wind serves as his only semblance of comfort as it continues its mission of cooling the exposed skin of his forearm and neck.

He must be walking for at least five minutes before he sees it. The scraggly grey hair of a dog's bottom, her top half hidden behind a large oak tree but her tail wagging ferociously. A small smile graces Erwin’s face subconsciously, the slowly building apprehension dissipating in an instant at seeing the vivacious mutt.

Or at least at seeing her bottom half.

He approaches the tree slowly, the noises of enjoyment and panting from the dog becoming louder as he draws nearer. But there’s another sound too that fills the air. A sound much sweeter and delicate, one that he’s heard a thousand times over the years, and yet, Erwin swears it's one he can never get tired of.

It’s a breath of fresh air, an instant drug in his veins, and the reason behind the swelling of his heart. His smile grows wider than he could have possibly imagined.

He gets close enough and the dog finally notices him, bounding over to him in an instant with a greeting bark and a perk in her step. He pats her head, a silent gratefulness at having found her finally and understanding why she refused to meet his calls. Why she continued to stay at the spot behind the oak tree a five minute walk away from her home.

He finally gets near the tree, peering around its large trunk to the spot the dog previously occupied and can’t help but laugh in surprise.

Sitting in the space between the bulging roots are his two girls, one aged six and the other three, huddled close together as they coo and giggle over an object resting between the two’s feet. Their backs are turned towards their father, too preoccupied with whatever was settled between them to even notice the beloved dog’s disappearance from her original spot and its replacement with their father.

His years of training to fight titans kicks in, his steps as quiet as can be as he gets closer to the girls to get a look at what they were currently fawning over.

A baby bird. Brown in color and more than comfortable between the two children.

“What are you two doing?”

His voice sends a jolt of shock through them, the two girls jumping in the air at the sudden disruption and whipping their faces around to look at the intruder. The fear quickly melts off of their round faces when they realize who it is.

“Daddy!” The two girls yell unanimously, unbridled joy filtering their features and Erwin briefly sees the beautiful face of their mother in them. The youngest in particular.

The eldest managed to take most of his features, much to his wife’s pleasure, retaining his aquiline nose, the vibrant blue of his eyes, and his own oval face shape, but her hair is a delightful mix between his and his wife’s. And while she looks the most like him, she acts the most like her mother; Joyous and giggly and a passionate ball of rays.

Now, his youngest, while looking almost entirely like a carbon copy of her mother, was in fact a replica of his own personality. Quiet, curious, diplomatic. A balance to her impulsive sister, a shining grey crater of peace in the sky.

His sun and moon. His reasons for orbit. The loves of his life.

∵

And as he walks his two girls back across the field to their home, their mother’s figure on the horizon and an excited chatter between them as they recount the tales of their morning in helping the baby bird, a single thought enters Erwin’s mind.

Retirement isn’t so bad.

#erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #erwin smith #fluff #my writing #baby boy erwin deserves the world #i just want him to be happy

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mercurial-muses · 3 years

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Meeting of the Minds

Valdyss has nearly completed her first phase of research into ley lines and places of magical power in Drustvar. I realized last night that, since a lot of that has been happening in one-on-one RP or 'off screen' completely, there's no way my Autumnhearth guildies and those who RP with us would know that. I'm posting this scene with my writing partner's permission to catch everyone up a little. As a bonus, y'all get to meet Faye's younger sister, Asta.

- - - - -

Valdyss may have met one of the Ladies of Frostfall, but the second remained apparently rather elusive.

Where Faye spent a good deal of time in her workshop, Asta was across the hall in the keep’s study. The other Lady Callahan slowly opened the door and took a step outside. Not out of caution, but because she was distracted. Another book sat open in her hand as she gradually walked out from the study. ‘Rumination on the Elements and Nature,’ read the title. Yet another way to feed her curiosity about the ways of nature based magic.

Asta frowned slightly as she went over one particular passage, moving down the hall with the sort of practiced, subconscious ease one might expect from a regular resident. She was headed towards the kitchen apparently, with the unconscious desire for food.

At least she was going to try and eat unlike someone else in the keep.

The portal behind Valdyss blinked from existence with a quiet whoosh, plunging the spacious guest room into darkness. A snap of the mage’s fingers conjured a tiny flame that hovered between them for a few seconds before it grew into a fiery ball the size of a marble and moved to levitate over her palm. The illumination it provided did little more than push back the shadows immediately in front of her, but it was enough light to allow her to get to the door without taking a header over anything that might be in her path.

Val opened the door with her free hand and, standing in a rectangle of light cast into the room from the hallway, she shook her other hand to extinguish the fire it held. She waved away a wisp of smoke as she stepped into the hallway… and very nearly right into a woman passing by the room. “Oh!” she yelped, unconsciously bringing a hand up to cover her galloping heart. “Light, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you coming.”

Asta subconsciously moved away from the sudden figure, but the yelp drew her eyes away from her text towards the mage. They were a much darker blue than Faye’s and currently filled with both alarm and confusion.

She shut the book in her hand sharply, giving Valdyss a once over. “That’s…fine. Who are you?” With the small number of servants they had, it wasn’t hard to recognize this was not one of their friends. And she couldn’t recognize her from the village either.

Nerd that she was, Val’s attention was almost immediately drawn to the book in the woman’s hand. That, combined with a beauty that was so familiar by now, made all the pieces click. “Asta?” she said, brow raised.

“Valdyss Duskbane, but Val’s fine.” The mage made a critical study of the other woman and, noting the alarm in her eyes, remained alert for sudden movements or any other signs of a fight. “I come in peace, I swear just don’t…” The fingers of her left hand wiggled in the general direction of the floor as she held her right one out in a defensive position. “Don’t root me, or whatever.”

Valdyss would have to look up to meet the woman's gaze, as Asta stood easily over 6' tall. The recognition was confusing up until Val introduced herself.

The alarm dropped from faintly familiar features. Asta's entire posture relaxed with a small huff. "You're Valdyss?" The younger Callahan asked, looking the mage over in a new light. She pursed her lips for a moment before humming with a shrug. "Mmm, I think I get it."

Nonetheless she offered a hand out towards Val. "I am Asta, yes. My apologies for the suspicion. I didn't recognize you, nor did I know you'd be visiting us today. Usually Faye warns me so I don't barge in and make a fool of her. Well, more than she already is anyhow."

Val grinned up at Asta as she took the younger Callahan’s hand in a firm grip. “I am indeed Valdyss.” She withdrew her hand and instead gripped the strap of her pack and pulled it a little higher on her shoulder. “And I am also at fault for you not being warned of my arrival. Faye’s not expecting me yet.”

A faint blush began to rise in the mage’s cheeks as she continued on. “I finished up earlier than expected in Dalaran and, um...” She paused, cleared her throat.

“Well, I was wandering around to kill time and came across a vendor selling a spiced liquor that I thought would add a nice kick to the Crackle n’ Apple.” Val’s hands moved as she spoke and her expression grew animated in her explanation. “And then I found this roasted pork tenderloin and thought that along with some brie would pair really well with the apple and-” Her words tapered off into a chuckle. Val shrugged. “And I didn’t want to wait any longer to see her, okay?”

An amused expression very similar to the one her sister often got grew across Asta's face. She just waved the fluster off with an easy gesture before turning.

"Then by all means: I was headed towards the kitchen anyways. I can help you make the drink and you'll get to kick in Faye's workshop door to make her eat this time. Stag knows you'll probably be a lot more appealing than me getting to lecture her again." Asta snorts, starting to walk off.

"Do you honestly think Faye takes issue with you interrupting her?" Val called to Asta's back as sped to catch up to the retreating woman. She fell into pace at her side and looked up at her. "Asta, your sister adores you."

Asta lets out a soft scoff. "Oh no, I don't really. Well. Most of the time." She corrects with a pause. "The one time she spilled Shroom Bloom on herself was a... very interesting incident." Despite that, there's a hint of fiendish delight that crosses Asta's expressions for a moment. But then it's gone, and she's looking to Valdyss.

"But I adore my sister as well. And if you do too, you'll know I essentially have to intrude or she'd be in there for hours without a drop of water."

“I do,” Val replied without missing a beat. She hefted the pack hanging off her shoulders to emphasize her point. “It’s exactly why I ran around half of Dalaran putting together a meal before finally caving to my haste to get here. "Brought plenty for three, by the way,” she added with a smile.

Asta shot Valdyss a look when that little addition was made. “Trying to curry favor with food?” she quipped with a faint smirk. “My my, you may be as smart as Faye claims.”

“Not looking to curry favor as much as to take advantage of an opportunity to get to know you better.” Val had to jog for a few steps to catch up to Asta’s side again. These tall Callahan women and their long strides. “If it isn’t already, I believe it will become important to your sister that we meet and spend some time together. Light, at least I hope my read on things is correct in that regard.”

Asta finally made it to the kitchen with Val: a large space with a stone oven, some door inlaid with runes, a healthy fireplace, and many more stonework "appliances." Magic hung thick in the room as Asta went to open another door and begin pulling out what must have been supplies to make the Crack N' Apple.

"If she's as fond of you as I suspect, and this continues as it does, I suspect the same." Asta commented. "But that extends both ways, you know. I'd like to understand just who my sister is seeing."

Blue eyes shifted aside to look at Valdyss pointedly, framed by the shorter blonde hair on her head. There was no maliciousness to the statement: no threat. But she was observing the woman.

Valdyss had no control over the grin that transformed her previously tense features, and wouldn’t have tried to compose herself even if it was possible. Of all the emotions she could wear outwardly like a badge of honor, those she felt growing for Faye were among the most important.

“Well, to use a cliche I suspect you’ll appreciate, I am an open book.” As she spoke, Val unpacked the food and then bustled around the kitchen, gathering what she’d need to warm the tenderloin and then plate it up along with the cheese. "I don’t have a thing to hide, so ask away.”

"Well first- Oh here." Asta moved aside and got a large metal pan. She walked over to the fireplace and slid the pan into a niche made partway up the stony alcove. Reaching below, with a murmur, Asta ignited the rune carved there and a hearty fire sprung to life.

"There you are: and the plates are right over there." Asta pointed to a cabinet in question before returning to making her drink. "First: why were you in Dalaran? I was told you are doing some studies there? Something about ley lines I believe."

Valdyss muttered a quiet thanks as she crossed to the cabinet Asta had gestured to. She grabbed three plates and brought them back to the counter closest to where Asta was working. “I’ve been trying to locate areas of concentrated arcane energy here in Drustvar. My hope is to use those as pinpoints that can then be connected together to accurately map the network of main ley lines in this region.”

The mage peeked into the stone recess to check on the roast, smiling as she inhaled the pleasant scent of rosemary. “This trip wasn’t to research as much as it was to log my findings so far.” She shook her head. “The Kirin Tor doesn’t have nearly as much data about Drustvar as I imagined they would, and I intend to remedy that.” Val sighed. “The dark history of your homeland and the potential for that history to repeat itself is just too important to go unnoted.”

Asta, meanwhile, was busying herself with mixing their drinks. She was listening of course, judging from the eventual hum that left her as Valdyss finished speaking.

"Interesting. And what have you found so far? I have a sneaking suspicion a lot of the arcane points of power would likely also be tied towards important places for natural magic."

Val nodded. “What I'm seeing here in Drustvar is consistent with the relationship between ley lines and places of power all over the world. Sites that hold a concentration of arcane magic are either over a main ley line- a trunk, if you will -or where two or more smaller branches intersect.” Talking with her hands as always, the mage crossed her index fingers to illustrate that last point.

“As for natural energy being tied to sites of power in the same way arcane is, that makes complete sense to me.” She leaned one hip against the counter and watched Asta work for a moment before adding, “I can give you copies of the final map and my findings once I have it all pulled together, if you’d like.”

Asta glanced over to the mage as she spoke, and there was clear interest in her expression. Even more so when the offer of a map came into the picture.

"I would absolutely love a copy, if that were possible." She agreed, putting the whipped creme into each of the three glasses. "My knowledge of ley lines is not quite as advanced, but they are rather intriguing. It feels as though the notion of arcane magic isn't quite as talked about around here, despite the Lord Admiral's daughter being a particularly potent mage herself. Or perhaps even more so because of that, actually."

“Ah. We mainlanders with our strange Light and magic, eh?” Val replied, adding a wink for Asta.

The mage looked in on the roast again and, seeing it would likely be perfectly browned in a few minutes, she turned to the counter and unwrapped the round of brie she'd brought. “I’d be interested in visiting a few of the mapped sites with you.” Val centered the cheese on a plate and held her open hand a couple of inches over it, palm down.

“My theory is that you may feel a stronger pull of nature magic there, just as I will with the arcane.” As she spoke, a flickering red glow illuminated the space between her palm and the plate. The brie began to bubble and melt.

“Not to say they’re the same magic. I mean, they’re channeled in different ways, as far as I know,” Val continued. “But I believe that- in the most elemental sense -nature and arcane magic come from the same energy, so I think we’d prove that there are more similarities in the way that our people actually conjure and wield magic than there are differences.”

Asta was in the middle of sprinkling the cinnamon across the drinks when Val made her second offer.

Her hands paused in their work, hovering there for a moment in thought. She continued shortly after, but seemed ever so slightly distracted. It might be subtle enough for Valdyss to miss initially.

"It would be something, certainly, depending on the days you'd choose. I have not gotten the chance to read much into the interplay between the Arcane and Natural magics: most of mine have to do with the latter. Aren't you the Steward of Autumnhearth as well, yes?"

Val nodded. “I am...well, I will be.” She lifted her hand away from the now perfectly gooey round of brie. “I'm currently the Court Secretary and, as honored as I am to have the role, I’m not sure I would have accepted it if I had the impression that all of my time would have to be dedicated to that alone.”

As she spoke, the mage moved to the oven to remove the tenderloin. Once she’d set that down to cool, Valdyss swiped a hand across the rune carved low on the fireplace, cutting off the flame. “As it is, I’ll have the flexibility to choose days that are convenient for you.” She leveled a gaze at Asta, softened by a warm and genuine smile. “We both know your sister won’t need any convincing to cut you loose from here for a little while.”

And here, Asta stopped. She stared down at the three prepared drinks with an intensity they didn't deserve. It was a few seconds before she turned her attention towards Valdyss and smiled politely.

"Well," She finally said, picking up the drinks, "I suppose I'll just have to speak with her on the matter." And that was that. "Now, what can you tell me about your work in Autumnhearth? It seems to be quite the up and coming barony in Drustvar, which is good given everything that's happened."

Valdyss was tempted to push because she knew how much Faye adored Asta and desired more for her and- unexpectedly -because she already liked the younger Callahan enough herself to want to help. It wasn’t the mage’s place though, and Asta’s curt response and quick change of subject only drove that fact further home. ‘What do you know about family matters anyway?’ the mage silently mused to herself.

Taking the hint, Val found a cutting board and set to work slicing the meat as she spoke. “It’s my duty to represent and speak for Autumnhearth, in person or by correspondence, when the Hallewells aren’t available or have had to recuse themselves.” She shrugged. “I haven’t had to do much of anything yet, but I’m ready and honored to… and a bit nervous to, if I’m being honest.”

Valdyss grew quiet then, clearly lost in her own thoughts. The silence between her and Asta didn’t feel uncomfortable, not to her anyway, and she briefly wondered if it was the same for the other woman. She slid the precisely sliced tenderloin onto a plate and tilted it so there was a little space between each slice, allowing one to see beyond the golden seared surface to the pale meat in the center. Grabbing up the pan, she poured the juices- dotted with rosemary, pepper, and garlic -over the roast.

“Promise I’ll help clean up later,” Val said, eyes on the plates of meat and cheese as she picked them up. “But, for now, I think we’re ready to eat.”

tagging @merelliahallewell and @alexandriawilliams for brief mention of the Hallewells

#Valdyss #Asta #Autumnhearth

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thetorturerwrites · 4 years

Text

Lamb

***This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @elmidol. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

Summary: In the beginning, there was only Vader, the Sky Walker. He wandered the heavens, filling the void with the cosmos.

To combat his loneliness, Grandfather Sky Walker created two brothers, twins: one drawn to light and one drawn to dark.

Their bond created all life as we know it.

C/N: 18+ only; mythology AU; implied genocide; physical violence; self harm; bloody bloody blood

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Well, here I am again, and here we go again. Please take the content warnings seriously because I am not a nice girl; and herein, may lie not-nice-girl things.

This is my first foray into world building, and I welcome all feedback, critiques, and comments. :)

Special thanks to @kylorengarbagedump and @bexterbex for helping me develop this idea and get it ready for sharing.

***

In the beginning, there was only Vader, the Sky Walker. He wandered the heavens, filling the void with the cosmos.

To combat his loneliness, Grandfather Sky Walker created two brothers, twins: one drawn to light and one drawn to dark.

Their bond created all life as we know it.

You ran your fingers over the intricate gold leaf pattern on the book’s cover, remembering your lessons as a child. This Scripture, your grandmother’s most treasured possession, was the only part of your life you’d brought on this crusade. It was the only thing you couldn’t bear to abandon, even in the face of certain death.

You exhausted every avenue before taking on this last of your options. You demanded justice from the law only to be told you should keep your mouth shut. You went straight to the throne, but it shut to your caste, your people too low to deserve even an audience.

Selling every item of value, you had barely scraped up enough for the one-person craft, but it served its purpose. You were here. You landed the shuttle on one of Chandrila's famed rolling hills, overlooking The Demarcation. You exhaled, shallow and nervous, and looked out over the horizon. The pilgrimage to this place, this day, was long and harrowing, but the sacrament itself would be quick.

Your fingers quaked as you shucked everything identifiable about yourself: blue pants your mother bought for your birthday; green shirt that belonged to your brother, found in the rubble of what was your family home; jade hair clip handed down from mother to daughter for generations. None of it would serve you now, and it would only be in the way. Trading the vestiges of civilization for religion, you donned your grandmother’s ample amethyst robe, lacing the silk ties that held it together, and grabbed up the athame she’d bequeathed to you at your initiation.

She enveloped you, your grandmother, and you buried your nose into her sacred garment to inhale the lingering scent. They were your world, lovely and loving, ground to dust beneath the machine of a war none of you pledged to fight. The Resistance descended upon your planet like a plague, and they left a great nothing, a slate wiped forcefully clean in their wake.

It was for them you made this trek, that you abandoned all logic and reason for faith. They raised you to share their doctrine, but it never served a single purpose for you in life. Your grandmother and mother believed everything they’d ever taught you about the Twin Fathers. They wove the fabric of their lives, and yours, around it; and now, you clung to their prayers, your last hope in the face of something horrible and wholly dismissed by the universe.

There was no one to remember them, their faithfulness and devotion, but you.

Fathers, we pray. Bless this our food to the nourishment of our bodies that we may be strong in your service. Bless these our hands that we may share your great instruction with those in need. Bless our hearts that we may find the balance you have so righteously set for us.

Their prayers spilled over your dry lips, the only eulogy they would ever receive, and every holy word strengthened your resolve.

Clutching book and blade in one hand, you punched a series of numbers into the keypad nearest the bay door, extending the ramp. When it finished descending, you issued another command, the tiny keys lighting up with each pressed digit.

“Self-destruct sequence initiated.” The robotic voice vibrated the tiny craft’s walls. “Confirm.”

“Confirmation,” you cast one last look around the shuttle that had been your home for a month, “Bravo Echo 2-4.”

“Countdown 2 minutes.”

Sunlight, warm and inviting, welcomed you as you stepped off the ramp. Squinting into its brilliance, you recalled the way your brother would read to you on lazy afternoons and how your family would picnic on similar grassy knolls. The beeping over your shoulder grew faster with each passing second, and you lifted the cumbersome dress around your knees, wasting no further time jogging down the hill.

You were out on the flat land for just a second before the shuttle exploded into a fiery ball. You watched the blast shoot debris and columns of soot into the perfect sky. In another life, it would have scared you, shying you away from the destruction. Silent, stoic, you tracked plumes of grey smoke and the fall of ashes, comparing it to the devastation you found after the Resistance found your planet.

Days after the attack, you roamed fallen buildings and picked through still warm rubble. You had been too late, too far away. Knowing you could have done nothing to stop the strike was empty consolation.

You could have died with them. You would rather have died with them. Now, all you could do was die for them.

On bare feet, you crossed the flowery field, taking in the array of purples and yellows. You lingered on the blue-green grass, feeling the soft stick of it underfoot, and you basked in the wispy clouds overhead. This was life, teeming with vibrant colors, but it all felt hollow, dampened. You wondered if everyone who came here felt this way, grateful that this beauty would be one of their last memories but unable to fully appreciate what they saw.

Pressing your lips into a determined line, you steeled your will and turned to The Demarcation, The Great Divide.

Grandfather Sky Walker tasked the twins with creating and maintaining The Balance. One would usher life; one would usher death; both harbingers of fate.

It was striking, a sudden upheaval of vitality in deference to darkness. Tendrils of fog mingled with melancholy dusk, and you spent a long moment admiring the space between one and the other. This spot, this one impossible convergence, was balance. It was what every man strived to achieve, and no man could boast.

On the other side of the billowing veil, where you were coaching yourself to go, was The Ren’s territory. People far and wide spun countless tales about the land and its Master. It was a bottomless hole, they said, that would swallow you up steps past the boundary. It was an unending bog, and all who journeyed there were lost. All of its structures were built from the bones of the dead, and The Ren was the vicious king of an unforgiving wasteland.

Your grandmother, however, believed The Ren to be a merciful father, wise and misunderstood. He was the bringer of ends who did not differentiate between rich and poor. No creature was safe from his touch, and that made every creature equal in his eyes.

Whatever that land may be, whatever The Ren may be, there was nothing on the other side of that shroud that could compare to what you’d already endured. It was the way forward, your only way, and you bid yourself to go forth on deliberate steps.

Mirroring the track of your life, a balmy day gave way to a wintry gloom as you moved through the gauzy curtain, passing from one kingdom to another. The living world fell away, replaced by slender black trees that shot up to winking stars and stood adorned with wide, scarlet leaves. A ghostly breeze blew, shaking the leaves to delicately fall and blanket the spongy ground. You trod upon them carefully, uncertain what might lurk beneath the crimson carpet.

You took your time on the winding path, drinking in every otherworldly detail. Light pooled from a clandestine moon, and the very air shimmered under its grace. Midnight-colored blossoms dotted the road, mingling with swaying ferns. The stars shone so bright you could almost hear the twinkle, a delicate song tapped out to echo against the trees. Every inhale was laced with morning mist and rich earth.

The stories were wrong. This was no forlorn place. It was luminous, hallowed. Absent the touch of civilization, this land had bloomed unharmed, untainted.

This world felt more real to you, more easily understood. Colored with variations of shadow, it was peaceful in its ashen palette.

Reaching the altar, you stared, both reverent and curious. How many had come before you to lay their lives down for The Ren? How many had died as a sacrifice? Surely, its ruddy color came from generations of blood spilled in offering.

It was a chalice to which you would soon be adding.

The stone was cold and damp, raising gooseflesh on your nearly naked form. It curved down in the very center, a macabre cradle for all those laid here. A blending of emotion and chill cast your skin in shades of flush and set every digit to trembling. It was as though the thing waited for you impatiently, its very existence demanding an offering.

Your skepticism at your grandmother’s faith dwindled when confronted with an exact duplicate of the altar upon which you’d taken your initiation rites. It was larger, but the ridges were the same. The slab of your childhood did not bear such a florid hue, but the sacrifices it received had been sugar, water, bread.

This shrine’s very construction felt haunted, a cauldron of souls made solid.

Hoisting yourself up onto the behemoth, you arranged your tools in the very center. You set the athame at your right and spread the weighty purple velvet over the shrine, laying the fabric and yourself out as you would for a lover.

Your lips trembled. Your knees knocked together. The cloak barely covered your body, and the little satin bows lent an air of innocence you could hardly claim as truth. You hoped, swallowed a handful of prayers, that The Ren accepted sacrifices as the stories told. Today, confronted with the reality of this place, you believed it more.

Tenderly, longingly, you ran your fingers over the tome once more. You lifted it and pressed a gentle kiss to its cover. It would lie beneath your head during this last of your chores and for however long your body would remain here.

Closing your eyes, you conjured memories of your grandmother bearing witness to so many dead over the years and how you, filled with doubt and agony and hate, had failed to do the same for your family, your friends, your people. It had been too great of a thing, too much sorrow to compact into a single prayer.

The words came easily now, having been swirling and growing in your chest for weeks.

Into thy hands, Great Fathers, do we commend this soul, departed from the body, in payment for the souls still yet to come. We pray that you welcome her, keep her, and enter her into the great Balance so we may again feel the light of her love.

Swallowing your grief, you gripped the wicked blade tight. You had no more tears to cry. You brimmed with an awful energy, this ceaseless anguish bubbling up from your very marrow.

“Dark Father,” you brushed fabric away from your right leg and sliced a deep gash into the supple thigh before you could change your mind. “Hear my prayer.”

You hissed at the burn but smoothed your features into a stolid mask. You would do this for your family and people, who received no warning, no choice to convert or flee. You would make your entreaty to The Ren; or, you would die here and reunite with them. Whatever the outcome, this was your end.

“I commit my body to your hands. As your brother has given it to me, I give it now to you to use as you will. Grant me the grace of your ear that I may plead my case.”

Your breath stuttered, and you fought back the roaring in your ears so you could concentrate and carry on. Fixing your eyes upon the trickle of blood, you watched it turn to a pool and hurried to match it with another slash at your left forearm. Benumbed, you tracked the redness as it crested and spilled in every direction.

The callous cold seeped into your very bones, and you fell back against the altar with a gasp, fingers grasping for the book’s corner. You blinked, heavy lidded, as your face fell to one side, staring into the great forest beyond.

In your delirium, you thought you could see them, smiling and holding each other. Tears you thought you no longer had rushed forth, and you shook. Weakness or acceptance broke open the gate on your heartbreak, releasing a torrent of sobs and screams. There was no one to hear, to care, to chastise you for its futility.

You heard her voice, your grandmother’s tone the same that had been soothing your fears since you could remember, rubbing over you like a comforting balm.

More than yesterday, beloved. Less than tomorrow. Find me in the Balance.

“Nona, I’m coming.”

Your fit rode your wounds and bled away to faint sniffles and glassy eyes. You stared up at what you felt had to be an eternally night sky and pushed your fingers through the growing sticky puddles.

This was death, and you welcomed it. You would slip away into a dreamless sleep here in such a place as you never knew existed. Fatigued, breathing slow, your face fell to one side, eyes unfocused but still dancing from beauteous flower to leaf to timber.

He was a charcoal smudge, nothing more. His movement was so subtle your addled brain took him for a tree, black clad and too tall to be a man. He stepped through the maze, and what little tenacity you had left drained away.

He came to sit upon the side of the altar where you lay dying, tilting his head to look at you. You stared, bewildered and confronted with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen when you had been expecting The Ren, the great storied monster. He passed his hand over your face, and the sting of your wounds abated. The heaviness of your limbs lessened, and the burden of your body eased.

Feeling and consciousness and awareness flooded back into your senses, and you bolted upright. Understanding dawned, and you gaped at him, struck dumb by every mesmerizing feature. Ebony tresses crowned him brilliantly, and he looked back at you with deep, glittering eyes. His fair skin was sprinkled with twilight constellations, and his lips were full, lush, slightly pink.

This was The Ren.

Troubled by the absence of death, you surveyed your situation, shaking both tense hands into fists. The ritual robe clung to the altar more than it did to you, swirling lurid with your blood. Blood that still flowed, you realized. Wide-eyed and amazed, you studied this unnatural phenomenon. The wounds at your thigh and wrist still wept; they should have killed you, but there was now a sanguine loop wrapping each injury around to feed into itself.

“Why have you called me here?” His voice was gravelly, as though he hadn’t used it in millennia.

“Am I dead?” It was a staggeringly stupid question, but it was the only clear thought in your head as you stared at the vermilion ouroboros around your wrist.

“If you intend to answer every question with a question,” his enormous hand shot out to capture the flesh just above your forearm laceration, “you will be soon.”

He squeezed the wounded limb until you shrieked and tried to tug away. Deciding that he would not let you go until you appeased him, you licked dry lips and worked your mouth into a measure of moisture.

“Why did you come?” Your query shocked even you, and you snapped your mouth shut hard enough to hear the clap of your jaws.

True to his word, The Ren’s hand connected with your throat so fast you couldn’t say for sure he’d moved. In one moment, idiotic inquiries filled your muddled mind; and in the next, you were choking at the end of his arm.

“Your howling,” his fingers tightened at your throat, thumb rubbing into the pulse almost delicately. “The next question will be your last. Why are you here?”

Licking your suddenly too-dry lips, you studied him, wrapping both of your small hands around his wrist. This man, this deity, was walking death, and that he sat here with his hands upon you changed the very foundation of everything you believed to be true.

“I-I came to ask your favor, Dark Father.”

He shoved you away and stood from his perch. Death’s gravity pulled you down again, and you whimpered, reaching for him as though it would prolong the inevitable. Your mouth worked on a plea, but none came.

“You’ve wasted your time. And mine.” He turned away and spat the rest over his shoulder. “Sparing virgins their lives or the lives of their lovers lost its allure long ago.”

Glancing back, he must have seen something, perhaps the abject apology in your face and on your outstretched fingers, because he snatched you from oblivion in a blink. You broke into wretched sobs, each lung-full of air quaking and painful.

“I came here so you’d come for me.” You dug bloodstained fingertips into your eyes to staunch the tears. “And to ask for your help.”

He was ethereal, his presence just a step out of sync with the rest of the universe, and it was difficult to look upon. You turned your face to one side and tried to compose yourself. You were battling the significance of your loss against the staggering truth that The Ren was real and here.

“You come to ask favors but cannot even look upon the beast?” He closed the gap in a blur, and you shrieked, leaning away. “How do you plan to beg if you will not even open your eyes?”

Crowding in aggressively, he leaned over and braced himself with both sturdy hands on either side of your head, an effective cage. His gaze traced over every curve of your face, and you couldn’t move under the oppression of his scrutiny.

“You think you will make demands of me?” His voice changed, dropping to a malicious whisper as he brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, tracing it to its origin in your hairline.

He would eat you; you were sure of it. Razor-sharp teeth hid just behind those beautiful lips, and he would tear you to pieces. Bolstering yourself, you drew in a shuddering breath and looked up into the galaxy-filled eyes. You had to say the words. You had to tell him what brought you here, but you weren’t sure you could do it.

“The dying lamb has no value to the shepherd.” His suddenly gentle tone belied his impatience and interminable power. “Tell me why you are here; or, I will leave you to die.”

You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, losing yourself in his resplendent gaze. It was like staring straight into the sun, and every part of you felt branded by him.

Your reasons for coming here meant little to him, you were certain. You pictured your family again and the horror inflicted on them.

The tension in your body loosened as purpose flowed through your veins once more. Your trembling lips blew out a steadying breath, which seemed to please him. He traced your lower lip with the very end of his thumb, waiting for you to speak.

“Retribution.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo x reader #lamb #here we go again

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yoon-kooks · 4 years

Text

Blood to Spare

Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Knight!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Royal!AU

Summary: When a malicious threat is made against Prince Jimin’s life just hours before Garreg Mach’s annual ball, it is your sworn duty to accompany him as his date and ensure he makes it through the night unscathed. For as the Prince’s personal guard, you must be willing to cut down any blade that takes aim at him, even if it’s your own heart.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, death, fingering, unprotected sex, it’s honestly super vanilla

A/N: wooooooo 2020 is finally here and so is prince jimin;;;;; this fic is based around fire emblem three houses, but you don’t need to know anything about the game to enjoy the story! but if you do love fire emblem like me, you’ll pick up on some references here and there. also lmk if you guys are interested in a prequel and sequel! ++special shoutouts to @d-noona and @scalbra for the love and support💖

You examine the bright red trail streaming down the set of ribs in front of you. The boy lies there in pain, but you offer him no sympathy. It’s his own fault, after all.

“Agh!” He tightens his fists as you press the weight of your body down onto the wound. And if the pressure alone is not enough to make the boy beg for mercy, you know what is. Alcohol and ointment seep into the depth of his gash until the burning sensation draws the response you’re looking for. “Is all of the pressing and stinging really necessary, Y/N?” he yelps.

“It wouldn’t be necessary if you had been more careful like I advised, Jimin,” you shake your head, bandaging up the boy’s disinfected ribs. “But we can’t afford to have our beloved professor and future ruler of Fodlan bleed to death after a mock battle with his students. Especially not with the ball tomorrow evening.”

In the land of Fodlan, an annual ball is held during the Ethereal Moon to celebrate both the year’s end and the founding of Garreg Mach Monastery. For this year in particular, it is crucial for Fodlan’s Prince Jimin to be present and act as a bridge that unifies the continent’s three main nations: Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester.

And although you despise formal gatherings such as this one, it is your mission as one of the Knights of Seiros and Jimin’s personal guard to ensure that the Prince is well and able enough to fulfill his political affairs for the night.

“Speaking of the ball, I have yet to find myself a date,” Jimin says as he reclothes his upper half. “It seems no one is interested in sharing a dance with me…”

You know that’s a big fat lie. Jimin may not be the only professor at the Officers Academy, but he is certainly the most popular one amongst both students and faculty due to his charm and royal status. Even back when he was a student himself, he always seemed to have everyone wrapped around his finger. Everyone except you. Though you suppose that’s the reason you were appointed to be his personal guard since becoming a Knight of Seiros.

“That’s too bad,” you say. Again, you offer no sympathy or solution to the boy’s misfortune.

“Well since all of the Knights of Seiros have to be at the ball anyway, I wouldn't mind if you were my date, Y/N.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles, as if that’s going to make the offer any more tempting.

“No thanks. My job at the ball is to protect you, not dance with you,” you shake him off. This isn’t the first or last time he’s tried to make a romantic advance on you. The naïve teenage you might’ve been swooned, but ever since devoting your life to protecting Jimin, romantic affairs have become of little significance to you. “And besides, if you’re not in immediate danger, it’s better for us to keep a distance at the ball.”

Jimin’s smile fades because he knows you’re right. It would reflect poorly on Fodlan’s future ruler to be associated on an intimate level with someone who lacks nobility and a crest. With a heavy sigh, there’s nothing the boy can do but concede defeat to your rejection. You, on the other hand, have more to say.

“Rather than worrying about finding a date to dance with, keep in mind your responsibilities as the prince. Tomorrow is an opportunity to build a stronger relationship between-”

“-the three nations,” he interrupts your scolding to end the conversation. “You don’t have to remind me, Y/N.”

It is not often that the Prince speaks with bitterness towards you. You don’t take personal offense from it, though, because you know it comes from a place of built-up stress and frustration. To be born into a position of power has its cons too, and you know better than anyone that this isn’t a path Jimin would’ve chosen for himself.

Still, it’s your duty to make sure the Prince is properly fulfilling all of his duties. And sometimes he needs to learn to set aside his personal feelings, just as you’ve done with yours.

“Very well,” you say, stepping out of his room. “I’ll see you in the morning, Your Highness.”

When morning comes, the walk to the Knight’s Hall feels exceptionally long and quiet. Students are rushing to set up last-minute décor and finishing touches before sundown when the ball is set to begin. However, all that chaos and chatter is drowned out by the piercing tension between you and the boy you’re escorting.

It’s clear he’s still mad at you. Probably because you last referred to him, not by name, but by status. Ever since you became his personal guard years ago, he’s always encouraged you to simply call him Jimin. It took a while, but you eventually picked up the habit and noticed the delight on Jimin’s face whenever he heard his name. As far as you know, you’re the only one who drops the formalities with him.

But because you had purposely called him “Your Highness” out of spite, you’ve now reopened the gap between you and him. Like cutting back into an old scar.

You’re thankful when you finally reach the Knight’s Hall and your fellow Knights of Seiros waste no time in filling the void of silence that had followed you into the room.

“Early this morning, a student found this letter posted on the doors to the Entrance Hall,” Seokjin hands you a torn parchment paper to look at.

“We cannot allow the nations of Fodlan to become one under the absolute rule of the Central Church here at Garreg Mach. We urge the Archbishop to consider canceling the annual ball, and with it, the meeting between Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester. If not, we will have no choice but to burn the bridge that seeks to unify Fodlan as one. Peace shall never be found in an allegiance that blindly sides where power lies.”

It only takes a second for you to piece together who the target in question is—the bridge that seeks to unify Fodlan, Prince Jimin.

“They want the ball cancelled or they want the Prince’s head,” you grind your teeth.

To an extent, you understand the point of disagreement between political views. The current rule, for example, does not exactly favor the Crestless or have plans of changing that any time soon. Even if Fodlan were to unite as a single nation as it had hundreds of years ago, the divide between nobility and the Crestless would only continue to increase.

That being said, a threat on the Prince’s life is enough for you to set aside your own feelings as a Crestless. If someone is willing to go as far as point their blade in Jimin’s direction, they are already dead in your eyes.

“I’ve already spoken with the Archbishop and she wishes for the ball to proceed as planned. For all we know, this could be an empty threat. I doubt the enemy has the means to break through our defenses,” Namjoon says. “However, we, the Knights of Seiros, will still need to be on high alert to ensure the night runs smoothly.”

“Understood,” you say, glancing at the boy whose life is on the line. “I will not allow anything to happen to the Prince.”

“Actually,” Namjoon continues, “the Archbishop has requested for you to act as Prince Jimin’s date for the night as a precaution to any assassin that may be lurking from within the monastery.”

“Understood,” you say again, but with an awkwardness far worse than the silent void from earlier. The last thing you need is to act all lovey-dovey with the boy you just rejected and are not on good speaking terms with.

Once the other knights have left to stand guard and investigate the origins behind the letter, your mind starts spinning. You don’t want to formally attend the ball, you know nothing about the proper etiquette of nobility, Jimin probably hates your guts, you don’t know how to dance, you have no gown to wear, and Jimin probably hates your—

The boy motions for you to follow him, pulling you out of your daze and into town to grab all the essentials for the Garreg Mach annual ball.

Several hours later, you sit in the Prince’s quarters, staring at the long flowy gown you’re supposed to be wearing. As a knight with a commoner upbringing, the occasion to wear such a fancy garment never arose, so you feel a bit perplexed with what to do next. For starters, you don’t even have a clue how to get it on.

“Do you need help?” Jimin raises an eyebrow at you as he straightens up his royal blue uniform, one very well suited for a prince.

“I got it,” you shake your head. Succumbing to the Prince’s assistance would only be a sign of weakness. You’ll find a way to figure it out on your own if it means avoiding Jimin’s gaze as you struggle to get the dress on. “Just turn around for a second and don't watch me from the mirror either.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he hums, lowkey throwing shade as he turns his back to you. You haven’t yet apologized for calling him that, but he’s definitely making sure you’re aware of it.

You bite your tongue until you’ve stepped into the dress. It still feels a bit loose, but you put it on to the best of your ability. When you give him the okay to turn around again, the first thing he does is crack a smirk.

“What?” You shoot him a dirty look.

He gestures for you to come closer and spins you around. As he reties your dress’ complex ribbons from behind, you feel the gown becoming snugger in the appropriate places. Very slightly, you feel the cold tips of Jimin’s fingers tickle your skin as he ties the last ribbon at the back of your neck. You don’t say anything, but your body reacts accordingly.

“Oh? Someone has goose bumps,” he snickers, spinning you back around to face him. Before you can blame it on his cold hands, he gives you a good look from head to toe. “The dress looks pretty on you, by the way.”

“Thank you, Jimin.” More than his compliment, you’re thankful that he’s at least speaking kindly to you again. “And my apologies for yesterday.”

The chilling tips of his fingers have since wandered up to your cheeks, and the only reason you don’t swat him away is because it’s something he’s done since the two of you were little. He cups your cheeks and gives them a gentle squeeze before jumping back to the conversation as if it were nothing. You’ve never questioned him about it, but given the context of all the times you can recall, you assume it’s his way of showing forgiveness.

“I should not have lashed out at you in the first place. The thought of becoming Fodlan’s ruler is just… a lot for one person to bear,” Jimin finally releases your cheeks and backs away to the edge of his bed. “But that’s why it’s a relief to have you with me at my side tonight.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Not just tonight,” you remind him. “Always.”

“Yeah, but it’s not every night I get to see the cold-blooded Y/N all dolled up and without a swor-” He cuts himself off when he sees you lifting up the skirt of your gown as if you’ve forgotten a (handsome and needy) boy is still in the room with you.

You’re so focused on trying to hide your trusty Hero’s Relic sword, Blutgang, beneath your dress that you do not realize how much of your lower body you’ve exposed. “A knight can never be without their blade.”

“What if it tears the gown open…?” Jimin’s question gives the illusion of concern, though he probably would not be opposed to that scenario.

“It would be embarrassing, but I’d rather be embarrassed than unprepared,” you blink at the boy.

“I suppose you’re going to stick the whole Aegis Shield down there as well then?” He blinks back. You know he’s trying to clown you, but it’s also no secret that you’ve never been without the shield since it was gifted to you from the Prince himself.

You shake your head. “It’s too big to hide. I don’t want to stand out anymore than I already will.” Because amongst a crowd of nobles and royalty, a Crestless like you will be no more than a fish out of water. Even the most beautiful gown cannot hide that reality.

“If anyone says something about you, I’ll-”

“You’ll smile and move on because you have a reputation to maintain,” you finish the statement for him.

“Will you really be okay with that?” Jimin frowns.

All you do is nod. You don’t need protecting or for your feelings to be spared. It’s your job to defend him; not the other way around.

As the sun sets later that evening, you follow the Prince’s lead into the glamor and prestige of Garreg Mach’s annual ball. Aside from keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, all you need to do is act pretty and proper. You’ve learned at least that much after observing the event from afar all these years as a Knight of Seiros.

You don’t hold his hand, but rather, you hook your arm around his. If you were truly in love with your date, you’d much prefer to intertwine your fingers with his and never let go. That, to you, would feel more comforting and secure. But love is not the game you’re playing.

As Jimin makes his rounds to greet each and every guest, you evaluate their individual intentions. Fortune, luxury, reputation, power. From years past, you recall that many female guests had also made romantic advances on the Prince through not-so-subtle caresses, bedroom eyes, and the like. The way you stare at them with such intensity of judgment must be quite intimidating because not a single romantic advance is made on Jimin this year with you beside him.

Even through the casual, yet all important, gathering of Fodlan’s leaders, you observe no sign of suspicious activity and sense no danger to the Prince’s life. The King of Faerghus, the Emperor of Adrestia, the Leader of Leicester, and Jimin all chat as though they are one big happy family, each expressing interest in moving forward with the unification of their nations.

If the letter turns out to be an empty threat as Namjoon suggested, perhaps the unification of Fodlan can be settled without any casualties. That would be the best case scenario, though you’re still skeptical that anything could ever be that simple.

Once handshakes are exchanged and the meeting is adjourned, Jimin sends his fellow leaders off with that charming smile of his, and you try to do the same. You wouldn’t exactly describe your own smile as charming—“forced” is probably a better word for it—but it seems to be satisfactory enough for all but the Adrestrian Emperor.

She doesn’t say anything, but her long stare in your direction tells you she knows something. Whether it’s that you’re the only Crestless in attendance, or that you were once a child of Adrestia, she finally returns a smile similar to your own before heading back out of the meeting room.

“That went pretty well, didn’t it?” Jimin pulls you in closer to him as the two of you step back into the lively reception hall where most of the guests are gathered. When you turn to face him, he radiates. Part of you wants to mention the off-putting vibe you got from the Adrestian Emperor, but a larger part of you wishes not to put a damper on Jimin’s high spirits. So you keep your mouth shut.

Besides, you believe the Emperor’s intentions, if any, are not directed toward the Prince. And that assumption is quickly confirmed based on the gossip now floating around amongst the noble guests.

“What business does a Crestless have with the Prince?”

“Prince Jimin can do so much better.”

“I heard that’s the one who slaughtered an entire army with a stolen Hero’s Relic.”

“The one also responsible for Prince Hoseok’s death?”

“Such a sinful Crestless exists?”

“At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who he’s fooling around with. As heir to the Fodlan throne, there’s no way anyone would allow him to marry below nobility.”

You do your best not to roll your eyes at the comments made about yourself. They don’t upset you, but you are annoyed. You certainly do not need to be reminded of your worth, your sins, or that Jimin would be better off with literally anyone else as his date. You don’t need to hear the very thoughts that have haunted and tormented your mind for as long as you can remember.

They don’t know your whole story, and you don’t care to share it with them either. Let them think what they will.

You suddenly spin Jimin in front of you, close the distance as much you can without kissing his ear, and whisper, “Can we get a change of scenery?” The boy agrees and pulls you away from the festivities of the ball.

“I wish you didn’t have to hear all that nonsense,” he says after closing the door to his quarters. Luckily, his room is not too far from the reception hall.

“Oh, I wasn’t bothered by that,” you shrug, unhooking the sword from the garter on your thigh and leaning it with the unused shield. “I just wanted those foul guests to believe we eloped or something. Maybe they’ll start a rumor about that too.”

“Y/N,” Jimin sits you down on his bed, “I can tell when something bothers you, you know.”

“How?”

“You start acting petty out of spite.”

He’s not wrong. Your pettiness is one habit you’ve never been able to shake from your soul. “Regardless, those nobles can think or say whatever they please about me. Nothing will ever change the worth of a Crestless anyway.”

“It shouldn’t matter if you bear a crest or not,” he says softly.

“It shouldn’t, but it does. It matters plenty to the nations of Fodlan. Crests hold a lot of power, which means bearers are not exiled from their own bloodline, they are not expendable objects, and they do not have to fight for their right to exist. If not for the Central Church, you and I-”

“You and I would not have met.” He’s wrong.

“We wouldn’t have met under these circumstances, but we would’ve met,” you say, “as enemies of war.” Because had the church not taken you from your birthplace of Adrestia as a child, you’d surely want to stop Fodlan’s unification like the ones who wrote that letter.

“Then I’m forever grateful we met the way we did,” Jimin leans over you until your back is down against the bed. From above, he has you in a place of vulnerability. “Because I will always fancy you more than any bearer of a crest.”

From below, you look up into his eyes and find solace in the one person you want to trust. It’s just a matter of accepting that solace and allowing yourself to trust enough to let him in.

Before you know it, soft caresses of the Prince’s lips invade your skin. He starts just below your cheek and works his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes. Your chin lifts and tilts on its own, as if to uncover more skin for the boy to please. He thankfully picks up on the cue and tends to your needs.

At the same time, you struggle to downplay the desperation in your body. You shouldn’t be having an intimate moment with the Prince when you’re supposed to be protecting him. After all, it’s wrong to be so lustful for a forbidden affair.

But the feeling of him against your bare skin is painfully addicting. The more he kisses, the further you want to go.

“We shouldn’t… be doing this…” you manage to say against your desires.

“What should we be doing then?” Jimin’s fingers run through your hair as he waits patiently for a response, but even the most innocent touch is making it hard to think. You only have one thing consuming your mind, and it isn’t what you should be doing.

You reach for his ruffled collar to pull his body down closer to you, practically reducing the space between you and him to nothing. To answer the boy’s question, you start unbuttoning his uniform from top to bottom. After tossing the princely uniform aside, it only takes him a second to rid you of the gown that had seemed so difficult to get on.

Without thinking, you pull him back on top of you. You’re aching to be touched, you need to be relieved of this unbearable heat, and you’ve reached the point of desperation where your legs are spread out as wide as they can go.

“You poor thing,” Jimin teases, staring right between your thighs for the longest second until finally swiping a sample of your glaze. He makes it a point to show you how wet you’ve made his fingers before sucking them off with a naughty smirk. “Is this what years of lusting after me tastes like?”

You hate that he’s very much aware of the feelings you had for him at one point in time. However, those feelings have since become much more complex. You’ve done your best to block out any romantic feelings and channel those lost emotions elsewhere for the sake of protecting the Prince. So what does that really leave you with?

“Aah…!” A moan escapes your throat when Jimin’s fingers give you another pleasant surprise down there. Only this time, he strokes you in a circular motion, over and over again. Your breathing quickens to the rhythm of his touch—he’s taken control over your body’s sensual instincts. And every time he casually brushes against your erect little bud, a wave of sensitivity makes you gasp out in pleasure.

Though your eyes remain shut for the most part to cope with the immense pleasure, you do catch a glimpse of the Prince’s now swollen cock. Either he’s been multitasking while pleasuring you, or the sight and sounds of your feverish state were more than enough to get him hard. When he stiffens and moans upon your sudden touch, you know it’s the latter.

As you glide your hand up and down his length, you angle yourself right beneath him to be in the optimal fucking position. With your free hand, you use your index and middle fingers to spread yourself open, and, with the other, you direct and ease the handful of cock into your entrance.

Once Jimin’s in deep enough, you let go and soothe the throbbing of your excited clit. As you take your time in building up the intensity, you glance up at the boy to make sure he’s watching you play with yourself. The sheer arousal reflected in your eyes seems to encourage him to start thrusting in and out of you to build up his own climax.

As your fingers continue to tease your clit and Jimin’s length continues to run through you, the sensations become so overwhelming that you can no longer tell where they’re coming from. Your entire body feels hot and tingly as if the sex were a wildfire that spread from head to toe. The only difference is that you wish the flame would never go out.

Based on how much Jimin’s moans have increased in volume and frequency, you can tell he’s as close as you are. You at first try to keep your fingers in rhythm with his quickening thrusts, but the rhythm is lost when the fucking becomes driven by total lust and no thought. Still, you manage to hit your high just before he reaches his.

For a long while, you lay there, waiting for your heartbeat to calm as Jimin does the same from above. If there was ever any tension, sexual or not, between you and the Prince, it’s certainly gone now. Looking up at the boy now, after the waves of sex have finally settled, you feel at peace. Even if it’s short-lived, you have to be content with the intimacy you were able to spend with the boy you once loved.

So when he goes in for the long-awaited kiss, you have to interrupt him. A kiss from the Prince would be asking for a little too much on a forbidden night of many other sins.

“I should go back to being your guard now,” you say softly, scooting your ass over to change back into the gown. “Then we need to return to the ball. I’d hate for assassins to attack over there while we’re here in the middle of… this…”

But before you can hop off the bed, Jimin stops you in your tracks. “Don’t worry, the assassination attempt won’t happen.”

“How can you be sure?” you ask in genuine curiosity because there must’ve been something you missed.

“Because I was the one who faked the letter this morning.”

You freeze. Why would the Prince ever want to fake an assassination threat on his own life? You can think of one reason, but you really hope that’s not the case. “Jimin, if you faked a dangerous situation for the sake of getting me to attend this damned ball with you, I won’t forgive you.”

When he fails to give you a response, you ball your hand up into a tight fist and start putting on your usual knight uniform as opposed to your gown. You can’t believe you allowed yourself to be so foolishly deceived.

“Y/N, wait-”

“Do you really not give a damn about your own life or duties as the future ruler of Fodlan?” you snap. “I’d rather give my life for someone who prioritizes their responsibilities for the sake of the entire continent than an entitled little prince who’d forgo all of that for someone born without a crest.”

You’re mad at not only the Prince but also yourself. You thought that after being so blinded and betrayed by trust once before, you’d never forget the fatal consequences of opening your heart to anyone. Trust and compassion have only ever brought you despair.

“If the assassination threat was all a hoax, I suppose my protection is no longer needed for the rest of the night.” You pick up your sword and slam the door behind you, leaving the shield behind once again.

You escape to the woodsy outskirts of Central Fodlan south of the monastery. The area may be recovering now with young saplings and shrubs as small animal families return home, but you still remember the scorched land from years ago when the first war you fought in took place. No matter where you walk, you stand on the soil once soaked in the blood of your enemies and allies.

But before the war, you had often paid visits to this secluded part of Fodlan whenever you needed time and space away from the monastery. There, you had first encountered a kid around your age who was kind enough to befriend you, despite your differences. It’s a shame you can no longer go back to the time when you could ignorantly trust in people without worry. And even if you could go back, you’d do everything differently so that the Prince would not have had to suffer the desolate fate you bestowed upon him.

It’s all your fault for carelessly putting your trust in others.

When you find a tree tall enough to lean against, you unsheathe your sword and examine it under the moonlight. The reddish brown sheen that reflects in the light is not rust, but your sins. It seems the blade will never be rid of the blood that tainted it on that day.

“It’d be best if we could lure the Prince and his guard away from the festivities.” Your sharp ears pick up on a small troop of rogue soldiers headed in the direction of the monastery. It sounds an awful lot like an assassination attempt.

From behind the tree, you try to figure out what the heck is going on while also deciding on the best course of action. Why are there foreign soldiers going after Jimin if he said the threat was a fake?

…Unless he was lying about that too.

You groan silently to yourself. For as long as you’ve known Jimin, he’s always been quite unpredictable to you and his actions are often questionable until you get an explanation. Perhaps there’s a better reason for his lie this time. But for now, you have to find a way to lure the soldiers away from the innocent guests at the monastery.

Just then, you swing your sword around at the slightest brush against your shoulder, but it turns out to only be the foolish Prince everyone’s looking for. You lower your blade.

“What are you doing, walking out here without a guard?” you hiss.

“Actually, I’m looking for my guard who seems to have abandoned me,” he says with the Aegis Shield you had left behind.

“That’s what you get for being an irresponsible Prince.” You keep your eye on the soldiers. “But before I smack you in the head for that, we have to do something about that troop over there.”

“They don’t look really tough, though.” Jimin takes the opportunity to lean right over you against the tree, but you aren’t quite ready to start accepting his flirtatious antics again.

“But that’s what makes it suspicious,” you blatantly ignore his failed kabedon. “They know they won't stand a chance against the Knights of Seiros, so why even bother?”

“It could be a trap?” he suggests. “Or maybe they have other intentions.”

“Whatever the case, we’ll stop them here and now.”

You make sure the Prince has a sword of his own before shoving him out from behind the tree. If the rustling of dead leaves did not already capture the attention of the soldiers, your shouting and waving at them does.

The alarmed soldiers quickly shift their sights from the monastery to you and the Prince. As soon as they begin to charge, so do you. Unlike many royal guards who stick close to their highnesses, you do not. Jimin may have lived a life of luxury as Prince, but you’ve made sure he learned how to fend for himself. In fact, he was the one who suggested that you teach him proper swordsmanship in the first place—perhaps one of his many elaborate schemes to get closer to you.

As soon as you clash blades with a soldier brave enough, you recognize the enemy troop is no pushover like you and Jimin had anticipated. Though they have the appearance of commoners who’ve never held a weapon in their life, the power behind their swing is comparable to your own. And it doesn’t quite add up.

When you’ve suppressed several soldiers, you glance over to Jimin exchanging blows with an assassin who has a more proper handle of his blade. Jimin’s golden shield blocks many of what could’ve been fatal blows, but its weight also hinders his movement against the nimble assassin.

You rush over, whipping your sword at the assassin to push him back from Jimin’s vicinity. Once you engage in a long drawn sword exchange with the assassin, you’re taken back by the familiarity in the energy he emanates. It somehow feels like the power from the Crest of Fraldarius, the very crest that Jimin bears. But that can’t be the case when crests are inherited through specific bloodlines by chance. And as far as you know, this random soldier has no blood connection to Jimin or House Fraldarius.

Either way, you eventually gain the advantage and pierce the enemy as the curved blade of your Blutgang bleeds once more. Crest or no crest, the enemy nor the Prince can keep up with the mercilessness in your every swing. In what feels like minutes, you’ve cut down the entire troop aside from the few that Jimin could handle himself.

You stare down at the body of the soldier who had given Jimin an exceptionally hard time. “Did you notice that this one had-”

“The Crest of Fraldarius,” Jimin nods. “There’s no mistaking it, but somehow it felt off.”

“Like it wasn’t the real deal?”

“Like it was a crest that didn’t belonged to him.”

The boy’s suggestion gives you something to think about. You wonder if the other soldiers also had crests of some sort—crests that were not rightfully theirs. It’s as if they were once Crestless who somehow extracted and obtained the power of a crest. Perhaps by the means of the most sacred and darkest of sorcery.

Just when you’re finally able to lower your sword, you raise it again to guard against another unwelcomed guest. With a stream of dark magic striking the earth in front of the Prince, you dash over to shield him from any other potential impacts. What you get instead is a mysterious hooded mage who doesn’t seem interested in challenging you. The magic that radiates off him is far stronger than any of the other soldiers.

“Well done on putting a stop to our little assassination plot,” he says. “But it seems we’ve already gathered a lot of valuable intel on our real target.”

“Who’s your real target then?” Jimin asks.

“Someone who can wield Hero’s Relics and slaughter crest bearers despite bearing no crest of their own.” The mage looks first at the bloodstained blade in your grips and then directly at you. His eyes are not so different from your own—empty.

Rather than the Prince’s head, they wanted you.

But why?

Before you can ask the man, he disappears into the unknown along with the bodies of his fallen soldiers. And although the outskirts are quiet once more with only you and the Prince, you keep your eyes peeled and wait a good ten seconds before sheathing your weapon.

You try to make sense of the enemy’s true intentions from a rational perspective, but the mage’s words still do not sit well with you. What exactly were they planning on doing with you, a Crestless who can wield Hero’s Relics and slaughter crest bearers?

“I won’t let them have you,” Jimin nudges your side, whilst holding the Aegis Shield out in front of you and him. “I’d even die for you.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” you play along with his dramatic scene just for a moment. Something about the boy makes you forget about your worries, your pain. “But please never die for my sake, Jimin.”

“Then how about I live for you?” he asks.

“Live first for the people of Fodlan,” you respond, hooking your arm once more around his. “Shall we return to the ball now before everyone wonders where their Prince ran off to?”

“No need. I already properly excused myself from the ball for the rest of the night.” Jimin frowns when you unhook your arm faster than you can swing your sword. “But I would like you to escort me back to my quarters.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But on the way back, you need to tell me why you lied about faking that real assassination threat.”

So he does.

“I still think it was a stupid move, Jimin.”

“I just wanted to take your mind off of your knightly duties without worrying about my safety for once! I thought you’d feel more comfortable with me if you knew my life was not in immediate danger,” he waves his hands in defense. “I didn’t think you’d actually abandon me.”

“Well sorry for thinking you made up the threat just so I’d sleep with you. You made me believe you weren’t taking the nature of your job seriously, and that the future of Fodlan was doomed with a ruler who thinks only with his cock,” you jab lightly into his ribs, forgetting all about the wound from the day before.

“Worry not. The future of Fodlan will always be my first priority,” he assures you. “But you are also part of Fodlan’s future, aren’t you? Doesn’t that still make you my first priority then?”

“When you put it that way, I guess so,” you say, though you genuinely wonder about that. Because as a Crestless, you’ve never felt like you belonged in Fodlan. “But just know that you needn’t go that far for me, Jimin.”

“And you needn’t act so tough all the time, Y/N.” He wants you to know that you can rely on him, that you can be vulnerable, and that he’ll protect you just as you protect him. You understand all of that, and yet, it’s still easier said than done.

Once you safely escort the Prince back to his quarters, you think you can finally relieve yourself of guard duty for the night and put some real thought into the mysterious mage’s intentions. But you’re wrong.

“Let me clean up that wound on your cheek before you go,” Jimin air-pokes the high point on your cheek.

“I didn’t realize I was cut there in battle…” you say, letting the boy reel you back into his room.

You sit patiently on his bed as he searches for a bandage, but you wouldn’t put it past the senseless Prince to not have any medical supplies lying around his quarters. You’re the one who’s usually tending to his wounds with your own first-aid kit anyway.

When not a single bandage is found, Jimin walks back over to you and pinches your cheeks together just as he had earlier in the day. You don’t quite understand the context this time, and especially not after he sneaks a kiss onto where your supposed wound was.

“That should heal the wound.” The smile on his face is too smug for your liking.

Very quickly, your face turns into a big fat pout. “If you continue to lie and fool around like this, you’re going to end up like the boy who cried beast.”

“For as sharp as you are in sniffing out an enemy, you sure are gullible around me, Y/N,” he teases.

“That’s because I want to believe that everything with you is real,” you say, “even if it can’t.”

The boy’s smile is quick to fade.

“Just kidding,” you shrug, getting up from the bed. “Anyway, I should get going now. Goodnight, Jimin.”

He doesn’t stop you. He can’t stop you because he knows you weren’t kidding about wishing for a fate that wasn’t meant for you. And that’s not something a kiss could ever change.

While you’re glad Jimin will be taking responsibility in prioritizing Fodlan from here on out, you still have much to be concerned about. Your presence has only complicated matters when the Prince is someone who thinks with his heart, not his head—to the point where he’d give up everything for you.

You’ve tried to make him set aside his personal feelings for the sake of Fodlan’s future, but it’s apparent that he cannot separate you, the one he wants to protect, from Fodlan, the land he needs to protect. He cannot see that, no matter how much he wishes for things to be different, you and all the other Crestless will never truly belong in the future of Fodlan—the Fodlan he will soon lead.

If you were to leave his side, perhaps he would be able to see that he’s trying to make the impossible possible. After all, unless Crestless are able to prove their worth to the nobles of Fodlan, they are worth nothing at all. The only way to prove your worth is to be merciless, tough, and to spare no blood. And maybe only then would Jimin be able to fully realize that this is where your two paths diverge.

It’s only after you’ve walked out and closed the door that you leave the Prince with one last thing to consider. “I know my place in this world, and it’s never been with you, Jimin. Even I’m not that gullible.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jimin x reader #bts angst #jimin fanfic #bts royal au #bts fluff #jimin #bts #bangtan #blood to spare #fire emblem au #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #bts x fire emblem

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afterthelastreset · 3 years

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Rules Of One’s Soul Ch25 Ending

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. Thanks to everyone for reading this, adding it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Toby Fox for creating such wonder characters for us all. Mak belongs to @alois-toussaint)