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exo-raskreia · 4 years

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Renji’s Cowardice

So this is something I've been wanting to talk a bit about, even though I've commented on it to other fellow fans, but decided maybe I should make a post about it. This got longer than expected, so long post ahead:

I'm one of those few people who don't believe Renji had feelings for Rukia, or if at all, they were so subtle, they were barely there - ‘cause they can easily be interpreted as that of friendship or siblings.

We know he certainly cared about her, they were childhood friends, helping each other through hard times, the ONLY survivors from their friend group in the Rukongai, & the only ones out of them who had reiatsu. So, obviously, they had a tight bond.

But...there was nothing more. That scene in the anime (ep. 32) where Renji stares at Rukia in the lake during his childhood memories? Filler - like most of the episode. It wasn't in the manga. Check out chapter 98 (which also has a lot of the scenes I will mention here).

When I first watched that, I thought maybe he liked her (so then why did he hurt her?), but as I got further into the anime, no such scene ever happened again, nothing else that indicated he might like her. Then eventually I read the manga, & bam! - obviously there'd been nothing else, since the scene hadn't been there to begin with.

So if you believe Renji was deeply in love with Rukia... Well, that’s not what I saw in the following scenes.

Let’s start off with a little scene in his childhood, where Rukia showcased her reiatsu abilities. Their friends found it so cool, whereas Renji seemed...bothered by it:

And down here, where he shouts at the guys, one could interpret him being a bit jealous that they’re captivated by Rukia, but it can also be interpreted as him being a bit jealous of Rukia, like, “Meh, she ain’t all that!”

Even so, they all became so close, like a family

Years later, once in the academy, Rukia was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan. Renji encountered Byakuya for the first time & felt an immense fear. Any confidence he’d had up until that point (such as being in an advanced class) faded.

When Rukia tried to discuss with him if she should accept it, because DUH, they only had each other at this point & were basically family, but of course Renji let his insecurities get the better of him, & basically told her how lucky she was & to go for it, without showing concern or worry. Thus, beginning the end of their friendship.

Renji’s excuse for letting her go was that he didn’t want to get in the way of her happiness... Was it? Not something else like, I don’t know, feeling insecure, possibly inferior, afraid when he had encountered her adoptive brother for the first time? Ah, that's it...cowardice? It's as if he was even trying to convince himself otherwise:

Yep, sounds like it, Renji. Always hiding your fear, masking it with ego, or in this case, thinking you’re “happy” for her.

He didn’t want to admit what he had been feeling in that moment. He didn’t let her go out of the goodness of his heart...but because he didn’t have the guts to stop her. He didn’t have the guts to go against Byakuya for her sake. Or more like...for his own sake.

You could say he didn’t feel “worthy enough” being her friend, now that Rukia was part of a prestigious clan... Or simply...too scared. He made it his goal to surpass Byakuya, & once he did, then he would feel "worthy" or strong enough to talk to Rukia again.

Just...why? Did he not see that it wasn’t what Rukia wanted? It’s not like she would have looked down on him or anyone else for that matter. He didn’t understand her like a certain someone. Actually, doesn’t it sort of parallel the scene in which that certain someone was telling her to go back home with him, & she told him she’d stay in SS, & he actually saw she was happy about it & let her go because of it? She wanted to stick together like family, but he pushed her away. For the next 40 years, he never attempted to talk to her, make sure she was doing well, wasn't there for her, nothing.

But he hadn’t realized the true reason for his actions...yet.

Cowardly Renji was then going to tell Rukia about his promotion to lieutenant after he was encouraged by his friends (ch. 205.2/Side-B ‘The Rotator’), but then he was sent to arrest her in Karakura Town. Instead of trying to make up or let her know he didn’t want to do this, he certainly acted pretty villainous towards her, & did NOTHING to try to stop her from getting executed, not even trying to vouch for her to her brother (I mean, if someone as freakishly strong as his captain wasn’t going to do a thing, then why should Renji The Coward™, amirite?). Some "tight bond”...

Is this how a man shows he loves a woman?! Is this the kind of man you want for strong, kind, selfless Rukia?!

When Renji decided to visit Rukia in her cell to tell her about a certain orange-haired guy being in SS, he hadn’t expected her to react the way she did:

(Renji then thought that maybe he shouldn’t have given her hope, because the rescue gang might not make it. So even in her final moments, he still wasn’t going to try anything? Instead, regretted giving her some comfort? Oh, boy...)

After hearing about said orange-haired guy defeating strong opponents on his way to save Rukia, his bruised ego sent him to go pick a fight with him against orders.

He went as far as to blame that one person for Rukia’s demise. Like, what the heck? He wanted to break his resolve, because Renji himself had none.

But obviously...things weren’t going the way he’d planned. Ichigo, the man who would stop at nothing to save Rukia, was underestimated. Heck, Renji even got triggered when Ichigo shouted this & blocked his attack:

U mad, bruh?

Eventually, Alpha™ Ichigo defeated him, & made him realize his faults. Cue Flashback no Jutsu & then we got Renji saying this:

Ooh, boy, this is right after the panel where he was trying to convince himself that he let Rukia go for her happiness (ch. 98).

Let’s start off with the first part: "Now that I think about it... I was probably just scared...”

So this does confirm that Renji had been lying to himself, & that his real reason was that he was afraid to confront a stronger opponent for his friend. Afraid to do something about the situation. He was a coward through & through.

Then he continues with this: “I am really a tramp down to my bones. I hate myself. I bark at the star, but...I don't have the courage to jump and grab it."

Is this another way of him saying Rukia is the star & he's the tramp? So basically, he felt inferior to her? A lowly creature who’s all bark & no bite?

Let’s see... You could say that since childhood, Renji had always felt a bit jealous of Rukia, or simply admired her, cuz she had higher reiatsu, their old friends looked up to her more & she became their leader of sorts. And then when she was adopted into the Kuchiki Clan, she was “farther away".

He made it his goal to surpass Byakuya...because it would mean he had finally “reached” Rukia? You could almost see this as romantic, feel bad for him cuz he doesn’t feel worthy of her, even though he’s tried so hard (fake ‘aww’). But it’s still not enough. Up until this point, Renji hadn’t done anything to help her. Like I said before, he even tried to obstruct the one person who was trying to save her, & tried to blame him for her eventual demise.

Just how insecure were you, Renji? Of the fact that someone else, who hadn’t known her as long, was risking his life to save the one girl you weren’t brave enough to help? That someone else would reach the star, & not you? That someone else proved himself Top Dog™ & you’re still the tramp?

Well, Rukia is more referred to as the moon, while Ichigo as the sun (White Moon, Black Sun). So to Renji, she's a star, but in regards to Ichigo, she's the moon. An unreachable star to one, & the moon to the other... Interesting...

In some translations, he says "stars" in plural, so if that, does it mean Renji is calling himself a coward in general, who doesn't have the courage to stand up to those stronger than him? And/or to get what he wants? In others, he says "moon", & Rukia has been referred to as the moon, so it still applies.

After this, he BEGGED Ichigo to save Rukia, because he himself couldn't. Once again, he felt unworthy. And this time, he had good reason to, because the man Rukia wanted to see wasn't even him, & he knew this. Like I said, he hadn’t expected her to look so happy when he’d informed her that Ichigo was in town.

Renji had a change of heart. He later helped Ichigo in what he could, having formed the resolve to work harder after recovering from the fight against him. After this, we saw him become friends with Ichigo, having his acknowledgement, his respect, his trust. Never once do we see Renji feeling jealous towards Ichigo regarding Rukia (nor anyone else for that matter). Not like Orihime being jealous of Rukia. Renji supported Ichigo in everything, & both considered each other one of their closest comrades.

Remember the scene in Hueco Mundo (ch. 248) where Ichigo didn't want the group to separate in Las Noches after Rukia suggested it, then Renji got in the way & told him it was an insult to her as a warrior? He knew this wasn't about the group, it was about Rukia (dang, was Ichigo that obvious?). Ichigo didn't say that because he didn't trust in her abilities...it's his general care & worry about her. He has to have Rukia in his sight at all times. She obviously means a lot more to him than he realizes (and more than his other friends). Renji doesn't see Rukia the same way Ichigo does...hence why he wasn't concerned like Ichigo. This already shows the difference in their feelings for Rukia.

(Poor Ichigo must’ve later regretted this when he didn’t feel Rukia’s reiatsu anymore & Ulquiorra had said she’d “died”, then Ichigo turned around to go to her, without giving a second thought to Orihime’s whereabouts and-)

Heck, even in the Fade To Black movie, everyone had forgotten about Rukia, including Renji...except Ichigo. He was the only one who fought tooth & nail to get her back. Renji was one of the last people in the movie to remember her, some "bond". Well, she already established a stronger bond with Ichigo, so Renji lost his status as the man closest to Rukia long ago.

Then in the WDKALY fanfiction novel, in the sketch of Renji at the wedding, he doesn't seem very happy? And in the one with him & Rukia announcing their engagement, their Soul Reaper friends seem so shocked, as if they would have never seen this coming? If it was obvious they “loved” each other, why even their closest friends didn't see it? Seems sketchy, doesn't it?

To add to this, as someone had pointed out before, just look at Renji’s expression here while Rukia is injured:

Seems like the typical battle-hardened look someone would have over their injured comrades.

Meanwhile, look at Ichigo, leaning forward anxiously...& then we get a wonderful closeup of his face

So, all in all, what I'm trying to say is that there was never really a critical moment in which made me go, "Wow, Renji really does love Rukia." His feelings just weren’t really...there? Or not noticeable romantically, not like Ishida’s for Orihime - now THESE I can believe. He felt like a coward in general, that not even his childhood friend's life being in danger, had been enough to get him to act. It took someone else, someone much braver than him, to give him the push that he needed to move forward. And that person is the one he came to respect & support, never showing jealousy. He even thanked Ichigo (ch. 682) for restoring his friendship with Rukia, & said he'll always have his back. Some "rival", huh?

(Thinking about it, since we never got to see more of Renji's insecurities again after the SS arc - I think - & had his friendship restored, does this mean surpassing Byakuya wasn't his goal anymore? Did he ever mention it again?)

Kubo really wasn't playing when it came to who cared more about Rukia out of these two (or more like, the differences in how they cared about her). Too bad this all went out the window.

#anti renruki #ichiruki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #anti bleach ending #anti bleach 686 #i like Renji but not RR #RR doesn't bother me as much as IH but it's meh #struggled writing this cuz it's hard gathering my thoughts on it #still not satisfied with it but eh #reiapost

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hayleyarts · 4 years

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Broken Without You (Jasper Hale x OC) | chapter 1

Author’s note: Hello! i don’t normally post that many stories or much on here but I’ve been working on a Jasper Hale fan-fiction to try and redeem him and show my favourite cowboy vamp some love. Anyways, this story contains swears and will have some graphic scenes referring to mental health and past trauma. I’ll give more specific warnings where they apply. Also, each chapter is inspired by some music; so if you want to listen to that particular song while you read, you can but you don’t necessarily have to :)

Summary: Eleanor Rae lives in a town where there are seemingly no secrets, but what happens when a certain vampire takes an interest in her. She’ll soon find out she’s not the only one with secrets. Will he be able to put her broken pieces back together? Can she fix him in return?

Word count: 2334

Read Part 2 Here

Track 01 - Eleanor Rigby by Alice Cooper

Forks, Washington; the rainiest town in the United States. The benefits of living in a rainy town is the fact that the forests nearby are some of the greenest you’ll ever see. The cons of living in a rainy town as small as this one is how there are no secrets; everyone knows everyone for the most part. Therefore, when people see me: Eleanor Rae, they immediately know my back story. Of course, you’re not from Forks, so how would you know who the hell I am, or what my story is.

The Rae family, also known as my mother Cecilia and myself, lives in a small cottage on the edge of town. Our small, 2-bedroom place is just close enough to town to be considered still in Forks, but with the town being so small, you’re simply ten minutes from all needed amenities. One such amenity is the hospital that my mother works at and the high school I’ve been attending for 2 years. At school I’m known as the strange girl with headphones glued to their head. Everyone has stopped trying to talk with me and try to become my friend, because I’m just ‘too weird’. Outcasts in small towns are rare; no secrets are allowed. Thus, why I envied the Cullen family.

The Cullen’s were a family that became the talk of the town since freshman year of high school mostly because they broke the unwritten rule of small towns; they had secrets. No one knew what these secrets were, but everyone knew there was something they were hiding. The patriarch was the best doctor Forks has ever seen; Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He and his wife manage to take care of six adopted teenage kids; who in their right mind would do that to themselves? Their kids are a completely different anomaly. Even though they are all adoptive siblings, they happen to look extremely similar; blemish free complexion, model-like beauty, and this sense of grace that normal teenagers definitely don’t have. The thing that bothers me the most is that after a year or so, everyone stopped paying close attention to the strange family, but I didn’t. I mean, it’s hard not to when they’re all so beautiful, especially the brother with the wavy golden hair that frames his face perfectly. He was the one I was the most drawn to, and I don’t really know why. There was something about his presence that calmed me; God I wanted to talk to him. But how does one speak to someone as gorgeous as Jasper Cullen?

I climb out of my Jeep, my feet planting on the cement of the parking lot. I look up at the building, sighing softly to myself; Junior Year of high school. A lot of people tend to stress about senior year, but to me, junior year is the one that matters. You need to figure yourself out because next year you’re applying for colleges. If you don’t have yourself figured out before senior year, then you’re royally fucked. I take my time to cross the lot before entering the school; the white tiled floor already scuffed from the various footwear. The lockers remained the same, even some of the posters on the walls were the same. The only thing that really seems to change is the people; some with different haircuts or new clothing. Different people smiling and laughing with new friend groups, some people missing because they moved during the summer. Growth spurts from the now sophomores, and then the completely new group of people that no one from the older grades recognized; the new freshmen. The one thing that stayed the same among the students, is no matter how much they laughed and joked with their friends; at the end of the day, we’re all lonely people.

I follow the flow of people as I make my way to my first class of the day: history. I always dreaded history class because of the teachers that usually instruct the class. Why is it that every boring and/or almost ready to retire man teaches history class? If someone exciting taught the class, I might actually like it more. I arrive to the room, flags of various countries littered over the open door and students were already finding their seats. Luckily the seat in the far back corner by the window was vacant; that’s where I always try to sit. I like that seat because its far enough back that if you doze off in class no one really notices, and if you want to zone out rather than listen to the teacher, then you have the window to stare out of.

Once I sit down, I take the time to pull my supplies out of my bag. All I tend to use is a notebook and pens while everyone else pulls out tablets and laptops; call me old-fashioned. I flip to a fresh page in the notebook when a voice pulls me away from my task. The accent clearly southern and extremely polite.

“Excuse me ma’am, is anyone sitting here?” I look up and I’m immediately met with the eyes that resemble the most expensive topaz gems; glittering underneath the fluorescent lights. He raises a brow as he gestures to the desk adjacent to me, “Ma’am?”

“Yeah… sorry,” I blush, snapping out of my daze, “There’s no one sitting there, go ahead.” He smiles at my answer as he makes himself comfortable, or well, as comfortable you can on a plastic chair. He pulls out his own notebook and pens, preparing for the class that’s about to begin. I couldn’t help myself from admiring his movements. His pale hands move with more grace than I could ever; placing the pens gently down on the wood of the desk, making sure they were ready when needed to take notes. My eyes didn’t stop there; they wandered from his hands to his choice of clothing. It’s not every day you get to sit this close to a member of the Cullen family, I plan on taking advantage of this rare moment. His clothing was simple but coordinated; his grey sweater with brown buttons matching the brown colouring of his dress pants. The one thing that stood out was his choice of footwear: cowboy boots. They were legitimate brown and black leather cowboy boots, and damn did they look worn in.

I snap my eyes away from him before he could notice my staring, paying my attention back to the rain falling outside. Its then when Mr. Henderson stomps in the room and slams his folder down on his desk. He seemed about as thrilled about the first day of school as everyone else in this room. He began his lecture the same as every other first day lecture; the expectations of the class, the policies and rules and what he expects from us as students in his class. This isn’t what I dislike about the first day of school, what I hate are the icebreaker activities that the teachers force you to partake in.

“Okay class, for the rest of the period I’m going to have you and someone next to you discuss the answers to these various questions.” His monotone voice explains while handing out a worksheet covered in various questions. Students quickly pair off, some actually participating in the exercise while others begin discussing what they did during the summer.

“Would you like to be my partner?”

I raise a brow at the southern voice breaking my observations, “What?”

“For the exercise?” He mimics my expression.

“Right… sure.” I blush, chuckling awkwardly.

“I’m Jasper, by the way. Jasper Hale.” He smiles politely.

“Hale?”

He chuckles, “Yeah, my sister Rosalie and I kept our last names.”

I nod, taking in the new information. I had no idea that he had a different last name. I always assumed that because they were adopted by Dr. Cullen, they all had the same last name.

“I’m Eleanor… Eleanor Rae.” I smile, turning to face him, “But my mom calls me Ellie.”

“What do your friends call you?” He raises a brow.

“Um… I guess Ellie?” I shrug, “I don’t really have any friends.” I look down at the worksheet, reading through the questions. Most of them were related to history class, some were about life goals, and school related questions.

“You don’t have friends?” I glance up at him as he asks his question, his brows furrowed.

“Not really. I like to be in my own little world I guess.” I shrug, “Kind-of similar to your family in that way.”

“How is that similar to my family?”

“Well, you and your family keep to themselves, so do I.”

He chuckles, shrugging, “I suppose,” He looks down at the questions, reading the first one off, “What are your goals for after school?”

“Um…” I furrow my brows thinking about the question. What are my plans? I haven’t really started thinking about where exactly I’ll be in roughly two years; after graduation and when I’m supposed to have my life figured out. I hope one of my goals for after I graduate would to attend college and take classes in psychology or philosophy; wanting to learn more about myself in the process. Another goal I eventually want to accomplish is leaving this small town; starting a new life in a new town where no one knows who I am, maybe take some time off and travel the world. Of course, I don’t say any of this to him, instead I respond with, “Probably go to college or something. Get good grades, you know?”

He nods, “That’s what the teachers want us to say.” His face slowly forms a smirk, “I feel like there’s more you want to say.”

I roll my eyes, my own face phasing into a smirk, “Maybe,” I lean closer to him, “But I’d like to hear your answer first.”

He chuckles, “Well, one of my goals is to settle down eventually. Find someone who understands me.”

I blink, “How romantic.” I reply sarcastically with a chuckle.

“Don’t judge darlin’.” He chuckles along with me. His pet-name catches me off guard, the southern drawl dripping from the word, “Now, give me your real answer.”

“Well I’d love to travel, and maybe start a new life somewhere.” I shrug, “Some place where no one knows everyone else.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

“And you judged my answer.” He raises a brow playfully as I blush.

“Well, both of our answers were cheesy,” I glance back down to the paper with a sigh, “These questions are also lame and cheesy.”

“Then let’s make our own questions.” He retorts, “What…” he pauses to think then continues his question, “What is your favourite movie?”

“Really?”

Jasper laughs, “It’s a valid question. Mine is Pride and Prejudice. Either that or The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.”

I chuckle, thinking about his answers. They’re both older movies, and one an even older novel. To be honest, those movies seem to match him perfectly. He seems like a gentleman kind of guy, and extremely old fashioned in his mannerisms and in the way he speaks. Not only that, but the western matches his god-awful cowboy boots.

“Well, probably Jaws or The Breakfast Club.” I shrug, “I’ve seen both of them too many times to count so they’re probably my favourites.”

He nods at my response, “Both excellent movies. Very different though.”

I blink, “Well, your mood changes therefore the things you enjoy watching or listening to at any given moment doesn’t necessarily stay the same.”

He narrows his eyes at my words. It was like he was surprised by my answer, and that he knew something I didn’t know. He didn’t say anything to my answer, but I could tell he wanted to. He fell silent as the class continues to have their various discussions; his golden eyes shifting from group to group.

“What’s your favourite colour?” His eyes snap back to me at my question.

“It changes all the time.” He smirks, his answer mimicking mine from previously.

“Well what is it today?” I smirk back, raising a brow. I watch as his eyes look around the room, as if to find the answer throughout the room.

After what feels like hours, his eyes finally land on my own, “Probably green.” I blush, looking away from him, letting my dark hair fall in front of my green hued eyes. I didn’t know why he was trying to flirt with me, I mean… I’m me. Why on earth would Jasper Cull–Hale want anything to do with me? “What’s your favourite?” He tries to get me to look back at him.

“Red or burgundy.” I mumble, glancing up at the clock; only five more minutes of class left, and, in this moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted these last five minutes to last forever, or be finished in seconds. Jasper makes me feel differently and I’m not sure if I can pin-point why.

“Why those?” He raises a brow. I’ve never pondered why I liked the warm colour before. Maybe it was because it symbolized various emotions like passion, love or anger. Maybe I liked the colour red because when I wear red garments of clothing, it complements my pale complexion well. Or maybe it’s because it reminds me of the red flowers in my mother’s garden outside our cottage home; roses, dahlias, and peonies planted in various patterns.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of class, I only then realized that I didn’t answer the question; thinking of an answer quickly as I gather my supplies so I could move to my next class in my schedule, “Probably because it’s familiar.” I mumble as I leave the class. I only take a moment to glance back at him momentarily; seeing his confused expression before I join the sea of other students in the hallway.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper hale x oc #jasper hale fanfiction #twilight renessaince #twilight reimagined #writing #creative writing #fanfiction #oc

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 4 years

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Wounded - Jon Snow

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader

Characters: Jon Snow

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon: “Get back in bed, you’re not healed yet!” + “I’m not leaving your side” w/Jon Snow

Word Count: 671

Author: Hannah

You’d never imagined as a child that when you were older, you’d end up living in Winterfell.

Being from King’s Landing had meant that you’d never really seen anywhere else nor had you had the option to but when you were given the choice to go and work in Winterfell for Lord Stark, you’d taken it.

And so, for the past year you had been working for the Starks as one of their maids so to speak but you also helped with the younger children.

Over your time with them you had become a friend to Arya, a form of confident to Sansa and you had taken an interest in Jon.

Even though he was not treated the best by his family he was still a loving brother to all of his siblings, a trait which you admired him for.

When Jon was brought back from a hunting trip with a gash down his side you were the one asked to help him with dressing the wound and helping him recover – you weren’t going to turn down spending time with him, despite the circumstances.

You entered his room to see him sitting on his bed, without a shirt as he stared at the gash to his side.

“It seems as if you are unable to return without a wound Lord Snow,” you commented as you made your way over.

He shook his head at you. “How many times Y/N? I am no lord and I want you to call me Jon.”

You smiled at him slightly. “I will begin to call you Jon when you are capable of returning here unharmed.”

“Then I shall do everything I can to not become wounded,” he chuckled as he spoke but then winced as he shifted slightly.

Sighing you realised how much pain Jon was in and so moved to his side so that you could begin dressing his wound.

He sat there patiently and watched you with a fond expression as you methodically cleaned the gash before placing a gauze over top and then wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

You couldn’t deny that you somewhat enjoyed the feel of his muscles rippling under your hands as you applied the bandage.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jon breathed out as he continued to fondly stare at you.

Smiling you started to pick up your things. “You should stay in bed for the rest of the day, and I will return to check on you.”

Jon nodded at your words even though he was disappointed to be being left in chambers alone – he would much rather you stay with him.

You heard him sigh as you left but you knew people would begin to talk if you didn’t return from his chambers with the medical supplies.

As you didn’t have any other duties for the remainder of the day you decided to go back to Jon’s chambers in order to see how he was.

When you entered you saw Jon attempting to get out of bed as he clutched his side. “Get back in bed,” you told him as you closed the door behind you. “You are clearly not healed yet; it has been a matter of hours Lord Snow.”

He rolled his eyes as you ushered him back onto the bed. “What did I ask of you Y/N? Call me Jon.”

“I will when you at least listen to what I say,” you told him sternly as you checked to ensure the bandage was still secured.

Once he was relaxed against the head of his bed, you sat down at the side of him.

“I’m not leaving your side.”

Jon chuckled and slowly reached to hold your hand. “Is that a promise?”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Until your wound has healed.”

“And past that?”

Sighing you looked down at your joined hands and then back at the man who you had had an interest in for a long time. “I’d like to keep my promise, for as long as you’ll let me.”

#Hannah #Jon Snow #Jon Snow One Shot #Jon Snow Imagine #Game Of Thrones #Game Of Thrones One Shot #Game Of Thrones Imagine #GOT #GOT One Shot #GOT Imagine #Anon Request #Wounded

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takaraphoenix · 4 years

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“I didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so I just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? Okay” AU - Apollo/Percy

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, E. I hope you’re having a great day!

"Hey there. Are you alright? Can you tell me where you are?"

"...Heaven. There's an angel carrying me around. Definitely heaven."

"Not exactly. You inhaled a lot of smoke and you were unconscious, so, seriously, do you know where you are and who you are?", asked Percy amused. "Fire-fighter, not angel."

"I'm Apollo. This is... was... my studio. You're still an angel though."

"Ap... Apollo", sputtered Percy, stumbling just a little bit.

Apollo was like... the most listened-to musician these days. He was on the radio all the time. And he was really good. Still, that out of anyone who could have been at the studio when it burned down, it had to be Apollo. And now Percy was carrying him out into safety.

"The one and only, cutie", grinned the singer with a wink.

Despite being the one carrying Apollo bridal-style, Percy blushed brightly. Did the billionaire musician just flirt with him? Once outside, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"What do we got here, Percy?", asked their medic – Annabeth Chase.

"Smoke inhalation, he was passed out when I found him", offered Percy. "Take care of him."

"No—o, come back, angel", gasped Apollo dramatically as Percy walked away.

"There, there. Another case of SPCS", sighed Annabeth, gaining Apollo's attention.

"W... What...? What is that? Is it bad?", asked Apollo concerned.

"Savior Percy Crush Syndrome", applied the other medic. "I'm Grover, that's Annabeth and the 'angel' who just walked away is Percy. Don't worry, developing a crush on the fire-fighter who saves them. Completely normal, especially with Percy, hence us having a name for it. Now, let's get you to the hospital and thoroughly checked out, okay?"

"...Okay", whispered Apollo, eyes on the retreating fire-fighter.

/break\

"You've been sighing miserably for days now, brother. It's time to change that."

"And you think cakes can do that?", huffed Apollo with a glower.

Admittedly, he was pining and thus sighing a lot, but in his defense? This time was different! The fire-fighter had saved his life. And looked insanely hot and cute and what was Apollo supposed to do? He had sent flowers and chocolate and also an entire barbecue to the fire house. The barbecue for the entire house, though the flowers and chocolate specifically for Percy to thank him.

"When have sweets ever failed to cheer you up, brother?"

Apollo smiled thinly and looked gratefully at his sister. Among his siblings, Persephone was the one he was closest to – it also helped that her husband owned the record-label that had signed him on and given him his great break-through. She owned a flower-shop, where Apollo had gotten all the flowers he had sent Percy to (and all the flowers he had sent to past crushes. He tended to fall in love quite easily, it was his biggest weakness and his biggest strength – his biggest hits were love-songs, ballads, songs about broken hearts, these kind of things).

"Very well, something sweet surely can't hu-", started Apollo just to pause.

He was in disguise, wearing a hoodie, hood up to cover his golden hair, sunglasses over his eyes. He looked just like a regular guy, not the suave charming musician, because he didn't want to immediately be recognized by everyone. However, it took him a moment to recognize the man behind the counter too. Without the fire-fighter uniform and instead in soft blue pastel...

"That's him", hissed Apollo, tugging hard on his sister's hand.

"Who's what?", asked Persephone confused, looking at him.

"The cutie behind the counter!", exclaimed Apollo, pointing. "That's the fire-fighter!"

Persephone blinked a couple of times and turned from Apollo over toward the baker behind the counter. "Percy? Wait. You mean Percy is the fire-fighter you're obsessed with? Percy?"

"Why do you say his name like that?", hissed Apollo confused.

"He's friends with my step-children", explained Persephone. "That's how I know the store. Bianca showed me, she's been bringing pastries home every Sunday for family dinners. And Nico used to have the hugest crush on him, back before he met Jason."

"...Huh", whispered Apollo. "Well. Yes. That's the Percy. The fire-fighter, I mean. The angel."

Persephone hummed, a smile on her lips as she tugged Apollo along toward the counter. "Percy, dear. How are you doing and what special thing did you make today?"

"Hey, Phone", greeted Percy with a smile on his lips. "Today's special is mango-quark cake."

"Perfect. That and your chocolate cake for my brother here. Polly, say something."

"Why would you do this to me, Phone?", complained Apollo distressed, slowly lifting his hood.

"Oh. Oh", whispered Percy surprised, looking between Apollo and Persephone. "How have you never mentioned that your brother is a famous singer?"

"It never came up in conversation", chimed Persephone with a shrug. "Come along, Polly."

She tugged Apollo along to sit and wait for their food and drinks to arrive. Apollo continued glaring and throwing longing glances at Percy. He looked so soft in his pastel clothes. Apollo was weak...

/break\

"How did the Apollo become a regular at my bakery?", whispered Percy distressed.

"First of all, our bakery. Second of all, because he has a giant crush on you", replied Grover.

Being a fire-fighter was fun and made money, but... not that much money. Two years ago, Percy and Grover had, with some silent partners from their fire-house, bought a coffee-shop. They sold a variety of sweets – including vegan treats, thanks to Grover's cunning abilities.

"He... He's a billionaire superstar, he is most definitely not crushing on me", laughed Percy amused.

Annabeth, who occasionally helped out as a barista, simply gave him the most scorching look at that. "I know for a fact that you aren't stupid, Jackson. Why would a billionaire come to a small bakery like that every week, multiple times. He tips you a fifty usually. He still brings you flowers."

"Because I saved his life", argued Percy confused and turned to look over at Apollo.

"Go on and ask him then if you know better than us", huffed Annabeth. "Go. Ask him."

She pushed the large coffee at Percy and raised her eyebrows at him. Sighing, Percy took it and the piece of cake Apollo had ordered and went to bring both to the superstar. Apollo looked up with a blinding smile, putting down his pen. He was always writing when he was here.

"What... are you writing, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Songs. This place is ideal for song-writing", stated Apollo. "Very... inspiring."

Percy smiled and nodded at that. So that was why Apollo came here, to write songs. Not whatever Annabeth and Grover were imagining. He put the food and drink down and returned to work.

/break\

Apollo came in with a stunning blonde. A model. Percy was pretty sure he had seen her on a cover or something. The two talked loudly, but suddenly after a little while, the beautiful woman ran up to Percy, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she pressed her hands against the glass and leaned in.

"You are so gorgeous. What a handsome face and those eyes are brilliant."

"Uhm... thank you", muttered Percy confused, blinking a couple times.

"Aphrodite, no. Please stop it, leave him alone", groaned Apollo as he came up behind her.

"Shush it, Polly. He is so pretty. I have a right to meet your new sweetheart."

"Why don't you uh order coffee and give me a moment with him?", pleaded Apollo.

Aphrodite sighed and obeyed with a pout, while Percy continued staring in confusion. "What?"

"Aphrodite is very obsessed with romance. She just asked me who my last date was and I got... flustered and just... pointed at you because I didn't want to tell her the truth. Please play along."

"Only if you tell me the truth", argued Percy, one eyebrow raised and blush on his cheeks.

Apollo glowered, his own cheeks dark-red. "I haven't had a date in months, that's it. Okay?"

"You... But... You literally just got this amazing new love-song out?", asked Percy confused.

"That's exactly why she is bugging me too", sighed Apollo, rubbing his forehead.

"C'mo—on. You've been a regular here for... for months now", offered Percy, at first teasingly but then slowly growing doubtful. "You come in... like... trice a day... to... write... your songs... oh."

Apollo bit his lip and glared at little at a doughnut to not look at Percy. "So I may have a slight... crush... on you. That's it, okay? But if I tell her that, she's just going to get pushy and try to set us up and... I wanted to spare both of us this embarrassment..."

"Huh", whispered Percy, blinking a few times and tilting his head. "So... Annie and Grover are right? You... really have... feelings for me. And here I thought they were imagining things."

"How could I not?", asked Apollo bewildered, pointing at Percy. "Look at you. Strong, cunning fire-fighter and soft, gentle baker at the same time!"

Percy could feel his cheeks heating up again and he ruffled his own hair awkwardly. "Uhm... so... you... fine just watching from a distance, or do you wanna take me out on a date, huh?"

Apollo stared wide-eyed and unmoved before he blinked a couple of times. "I... I... what?"

"I mean, you told your friend there that we are already dating, so how about we... date for real and you won't have to lie to her anymore?", suggested Percy with a cheeky grin.

Again, Apollo simply stared at him. Like he was trying to figure out if this was an awful or a brilliant idea. Percy simply continued smiling and waited, even as Aphrodite returned to them.

"Your cakes re amazing, Percy", pointed Aphrodite out. "But don't you spoil Polly too much. His personal trainer would torture him for it. Well, it was nice meeting you. Next time I come over, I demand details but for now I'll have to rush, I guess."

"No worries, next time you come over, I'll be able to tell you everything about our first date!", chimed Percy with a bright smile, flustering Apollo in the process.

Apollo sputtered, but he was definitely not going to argue with this. He... had a date.

#elements1999 #Apercy #Apollo #Percy Jackson #PJOverse #Phoe's Tumblr Drabbles

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animakupo · 6 years

Text

Dearest Heart (Ravus x Reader)

COME ONE COME ALL TO SOME RAVUS FLANGST BROUGHT TO YOU BY A LAMEASS (me) AS REQUESTED BY @aeciru !!!!!!

From the prompt list:

#8: “I don’t need you anymore.”

#20: “Please don’t hurt me like this.”

#59: “You own my heart.”

I did all aforementioned prompts despite having the option to choose just one because there just isn’t enough love for Ravus ok!!!!! I took the liberty to adjust the prompts accordingly to fit with the dialogue though.

ALSO. BOY OH BOY WAS WRITING THIS A CHALLENGE. Ravus and Luna speak in a really eloquent and flowery manner, so I did my best apply such a style and drop contractions here and there whenever I saw fit. I went back and forth with several sections here just to beef up the story and make the relationship and history with Rea more developed and fluid. (((((idk why but i felt pressured to do our boye real good)))))) (i hope i delivered)

(keeping just ravus in character is hard okkkkk)

Speaking of!!!! I read that smol Ravus was actually really nice and kind, so I wrote him as such in the beginning. He becomes the Giant Angst Bean™ that we all know and love later on.

Title was inspired by @birdsandivory who often tags posts relating to their s/o as “dearest heart.” I thought it was the most DARLING thing ever, so I hope you don’t mind that I took that as inspiration!!

Tagging @thatoneawkwardfanthing and @lokewight who asked to be tagged!

i hope you all enjoy this ; w ;

word count: 5.3k+ words, fluff and angst, soft Ravus and hard Ravus (not sexual ok), spoilers for Kingsglaive

Growing up within the walls of House Nox Fleuret was a privilege that not many were privy to. Luckily for you, your family maintained close ties to the royal family of Tenebrae, thus granting you access to the more personal side of the Nox Fleuret family.

Though you were shy, your parents insisted that you befriend the Nox Fleuret siblings as a show of goodwill. Something about “maintaining peace,” or whatever it was the adults often talked about.

When you were first brought to Tenebrae to meet the nation’s royal family, you were in awe of the region’s majestic architecture — was that an actual castle? — and its signature blue flora, the sylleblossom. Fenestala Manor blew you away in particular, so you were all the more enlivened when your parents explained that this would be your new living quarters.

It was a long time coming, your move to the Manor. After all, you were being groomed to become the Royal Advisor to rising generation of Nox Fleurets.

Upon your arrival at the Manor, Queen Sylva had greeted you personally with the warmest of receptions. She even offered you a brief hug after you clumsily bowed before her. The queen’s friendliness took you aback, but it made you feel all fuzzy on the inside. She was nice.

With Queen Sylva were her two children, a boy and a girl. The female of the two siblings gravitated towards you naturally. She called herself Lunafreya, and she had the sweetest eyes and kindest smile. You regarded her with awe of her beauty.

“This is my brother, Ravus,” Lunafreya introduced as she gestured for you to step closer towards her sibling.

“Welcome to Tenebrae,” Ravus greeted with a friendly smile. “I do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

The different hues in Ravus’ eyes helped you maintain eye contact with him. “H-Hello,” you mumbled timidly. “I’m (Name).”

“What a lovely name!” Lunafreya clapped her hands excitedly as she looked to Ravus. “Wouldn’t you agree, Brother?”

Ravus nodded. “Indeed it is.”

You immediately blushed under their compliments. “Thank you,” you managed to let out, feeling the last of your discomfort crawl away from your skin. These two were good people, you could tell. Even though they were royalty, they welcomed you into their home — into their lives — with open arms.

That was the start of your allegiance to the royal family of Tenebrae.

“Princess,” you called. “It’s time for your lessons.”

“Oh (Name),” Lunafreya hummed from her bedroom. “Can’t we skip for once? Please?”

It had been several years since your life had first become interwoven with that of House Nox Fleuret’s. Since your initial meeting, you had only grown closer to both Lunafreya and Ravus at varying degrees.

Lunafreya was almost always attached to your hip. If she wasn’t busy with her duties, she was accompanied by Gentiana. Otherwise, she was often around you. You had come to love her like a sister and would do anything to keep that divine smile on her face.

On the other hand, you had also forged a very formidable friendship with the elder Nox Fleuret. You were closer to Ravus in age, so naturally, the two of you found a lot of things in common. In the years you had spent getting to know him, you had come to realize that Ravus was very much like his mother.

Unbelievably kind.

Incredibly accommodating.

So, so warm.

You were honored that Ravus felt safe enough around you to let his guard down and not just be himself, but also show his softer side to you.

You wanted to think that you were at least somewhat special to him in that regard.

These days, you weren’t sure what to make of the butterflies that went wild in your tummy whenever you were around Ravus, but spending time with him always made you giddy and caused your heart to race. It was hard not to smile in his presence.

“Your mother would have my head if I allowed another absence, Princess.”

“She would not!” the young blonde retorted as she fixed her fringe in place. “Mother is much too nice for such barbaric extremes.”

“Perhaps not,” you replied, a teasing smile sneaking its way onto your face, “but if Her Highness won’t have my head, then it will be your brother who may scold me if I continue to be soft on you.”

“That won’t happen,” Lunafreya assured you, a knowing smirk on her otherwise delicate face. “Ravus adores you.”

You immediately flushed at her statement. “H-He…! He does not!”

“Oh, but he does. In fact, Ravus-”

“Are you speaking ill of me again, dearest sister?” Ravus’ voice interrupted from the doorway.

You spun around to face him, feeling embarrassed that he had nearly caught onto what his sister had been insinuating. “My Prince!” You bowed before him, trying to keep the warmth in your cheeks at bay.

“At ease,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to set you upright again. “How many times must I insist that ‘Ravus’ is enough?”

“My apologies.”

“And how many times must I defend my honor in front of you, brother dearest?” Lunafreya challenged teasingly, staring indignantly at her older sibling with her hands on her hips. “When have I ever spoken ill of you?”

“If we count all the instances,” he said, “then you will most surely miss your lessons, and we cannot allow that, now can we?”

Ravus glanced at you then, his dual-colored eyes holding a playful glint. You took this as a sign to usher your charge out the door and off to her obligations.

“I-Indeed, we cannot!”

Lunafreya threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. “Ah, I can only take so much when the two of you bully me together! Off I go, then.”

“We-! We weren’t bullying you, Lady Luna-” Your impending apology was cut short with the realization that Lunafreya had already left. Flustered, you turned to Ravus and asked, “She’s not… She’s not angry with me, is she?”

Ravus chuckled, waving his hand to dismiss your fears. “Fret not, dear (Name). My sister merely jests.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Lady Lunafreya will be the death of me one of these days.”

“As she will be for me, as well.”

His reply caused a few giggles to escape your lips. Once your small bout of laughter tapered, you found Ravus to be looking at you with what appeared to be fondness in his eyes. His gaze made you blush, so you opted to break the silence by bringing the attention back to him.

“So how may I be of service of you today, my Prince?” you asked, returning to your well-mannered front.

Ravus sighed at your ignorance of his name yet again. “Yes, I’ve come to you in need of a favor, actually.”

“Oh? A favor?” You looked at him questioningly, your curiosity piqued. “I will do my best to be of assistance to you, my-”

“Ravus,” he repeated sternly, though his eyes remained tender. “When we are in private, kindly refer to me by my name.”

‘I take it back,’ you thought, feeling your cheeks burn all the more thanks to Ravus’ sweet plea. ‘It is the prince who will be the death of me, not the princess.’

“R-Ravus,” you tested, feeling lighter at the sight of elation on the prince’s face upon the utterance of his name from your mouth.

“Much better.”

You had to keep it together to stop yourself from swooning at his dazzling smile. At the age of 15, Ravus had grown well into his body, and by the looks of it, he would only continue to grow as the years go by. His face had matured some from the time when you first met as children, and while his features sharpened, his kindness had not wavered.

Especially not around you.

“U-Um… Ravus. Ahem. What is this favor you speak of?”

“You have heard of the upcoming ball, have you not?”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded, thinking back on the invitations you had glossed over just a few days prior. “The one celebrating our nation, correct?”

“That is the one. May I ask if you will be preoccupied then?”

You did a mental scan of your duties and responsibilities leading up to the ball. “I may need to assist Lady Lunafreya,” you answered, “but otherwise, I will be present at the sidelines in the event that my aid is needed for the remainder of the night.”

“I don’t suppose you would like to attend as a guest of the family?” Ravus quietly proposed.

Your brows furrowed. What need of Ravus required you to attend as a guest of House Nox Fleuret? You would already be present at the ball anyhow, so the invitation seemed odd as it was rather unnecessary.

Regardless, attending as a guest of House Nox Fleuret meant that the festivities would at least be a little more entertaining, what with the company of Lunafreya and Ravus making everything a little more enjoyable.

It also meant that you would by their side for most of the night, and that alone seemed more appealing than having to lurk in the shadows by yourself.

“That is a very generous offer, my- Ravus.” You winced at how your correction made it sound like you had referred to the prince as ‘yours,’ but you trudged on, hoping he hadn’t taken notice of your slip up. “I would be honored to-”

You were stopped by Ravus clearing his throat. “I’m afraid I failed to clarify.” Dusting off imaginary dirt from his sleeve, he added, “Would you be willing to attend the ball as my guest?”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard at the offer. “A-As…? As your…?”

He huffed a little uncharacteristically. “As my date.”

“Ah.”

An awkward silence enveloped the room. On your part, you were unsure as to how to respond to Ravus’ request. While there was no denying that you would be more than happy to accompany him to the ball — as his date, no less — when it came right down to it, you were torn between your personal sentiments towards the prince and what was expected of you as his Royal Advisor.

Perhaps it was because you were in your teenage years — being just a year younger than Ravus — but it was quite evident to you that you had begun to develop some feelings for your charge. It was a bit of a pickle for you, because it became a challenge having to keep your feelings at bay without crossing the line of what was considered proper.

Though your relationship with the Nox Fleuret family was definitely friendly and familiar, it was still encased in decorum and your respective obligations not just to each other, but to the nation of Tenebrae as well.

Thus, Ravus’ proposal practically blindsided you. You weren’t so naive as to presume he harbored some sort of romantic feelings for you as well, but you could hope, couldn’t you? He wasn’t required to bring a date to the ball; you knew, because you helped piece the occasion together. So what was he doing here, asking you of all people to come with him?

Your nerves and apprehension over how to approach Ravus’ offer must have shown on your face, as he immediately backtracked, saying, “You are not obligated to accept, of course.” Was he worried that you would only say yes because you thought you had to? “I am well aware that such gatherings are not to your taste. Thus, my request may be more of a nuisance than anything, so-”

“Yes.”

Ravus’ rambling came to a halt. “I… beg your pardon?”

“Yes, Ravus.” You gave him a bright smile, hoping it would convey enough of your feelings for him to understand. “I would be delighted to accompany you to the ball, if it won’t be too much trouble for you.”

His shoulders practically sagged in utmost relief. “No, never,” he said as a small smile began to bloom on his face. “You are not an inconvenience in the slightest.”

“So…” You looked away, feeling bashful over the how things had unfolded. “I shall see you then, my Prince?”

“You do me the greatest honor.” Ravus reached out to you and delicately grasped your hand in order to lay a soft kiss on it. “I shall see you then, my (Name).”

“Ex-Excuse me?” you blubbered, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer. “Your (Name)?”

“It’s only fair, is it not?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am your Ravus, and so in return, you are my (Name).”

“Th-That’s-!”

“I shall see you at the ball, dearest heart. Good day.”

And with that, Ravus not only left you a flustered mess, he took with him the rest of your heart as well.

You didn’t really mind, though.

You often look back on that time with much fondness and love. The ball was boring as expected, but being by Ravus’ side for the entirety of the night made it much, much more tolerable. Lunafreya sending the two of you some smug smiles also made for some amusement that night.

Despite the fact that you came as Ravus’ date, neither of you initiated the step to further your friendship into a romance. Both of you merely skirted around your feelings, too shy to do anything beyond the confines of your personal and professional lives together.

Lunafreya often urged you to take the initiative and allow the love between you and her brother to prosper, but you always evaded her prodding. In spite of Lunafreya’s unabashed approval and support, you believed that you were in no position to present your feelings to Ravus and expect some sort of reciprocation in the form of a romantic relationship.

No, you wanted it to come from him. You were merely his advisor and a childhood friend at best. There was no way you were going to burden him with your feelings, not when you were unsure if this was what he really wanted with you. If he was not going to take the step forward, then you would adjust to his pace, as you have done all these years.

You were content with remaining by his side. Whether it be as his advisor, his friend, or his lover… so long as you were with him, then that was more than enough for you.

Things changed just a year later with the death of Queen Sylva and the imperial control of Niflheim over Tenebrae.

Now, years later, you still remain by Ravus’ side. Many things have since changed, such as Lunafreya’s appointment as the new Oracle, as well as Ravus’ new occupation under Niflheim’s invasion.

No longer was he the prince of Tenebrae. Now, he was known as Ravus Nox Fleuret, the High Commander of the Imperial Army.

You still referred to him as your prince, though. Ravus would merely ignore the title as if you had never said it in the first place.

After the death of Queen Sylva, Lunafreya had pleaded with you to place your focus on her brother rather than on herself. You had objected, arguing that both she and Ravus were your responsibility. However, the young girl proved to you just how mature she was beyond her years when she countered that Ravus needed you more than she did.

“There is only so much that I can do for him,” she had admitted to you tearfully. “But you… you are his heart. Please, (Name), I beg of you. Please do not leave my brother’s side.”

“Lady Lunafreya…” You had held onto her as she fell apart in your arms. Right then and there, you swore that you would remain steadfast in your devotion to Ravus regardless of what life would throw at you.

“I promise.”

If only it were so easy.

At present, the young boy you came to know and love was nonexistent in the Ravus that stood before you today. Gone were the warm smiles and gentle eyes, now replaced by hardened glares and permanent scowls.

The death of his mother had clearly changed Ravus. Though you held him close to your heart, you struggled to reach him beyond the icy walls he had put up around his own heart. Still, you stood by him and remained at his side amidst all the changes he went through.

“My Prince,” you murmured timidly, stepping into Ravus’ office. “Your sister requests your presence for supper.”

“Tell her to proceed with her meal,” replied Ravus from a pile of papers he had not looked up from.

“My Prince, if I may.” Shutting the door behind you, you made your way across the room and settled in front of his desk. “It’s been several days since you last shared a meal with Lady Lunafreya. She merely misses your company, and-”

“How many times must I tell you?” Ravus abruptly stood up and sent you a cold glare. Though you had become used to such painful gazes, you had to admit that they still pierced at your heart rather agonizingly. “I am no longer a prince, and you must address me accordingly by my new title instead.”

It was hard to keep your face neutral when the sadness in your heart overflowed for Ravus.

“My apologies, High Commander,” you muttered softly, offering a bow. “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

“If only some would die easier than others,” you heard him grumble under his breath.

His harsh tone made you wince, but you did nothing to address his statement. Sending him an affirmative nod, you said, “I bid you a good evening, then, High Commander.”

Noticing your wounded look, Ravus softened his voice and called out to you almost apologetically. “Have you forgotten?” He combed a hand through his hair, which had grown much longer over the years. “I am Ravus to you in private.”

So there was still a bit of the old Ravus somewhere in there. The thought made you smile, albeit a bit sadly.

“Please don’t forget to eat something, Ravus.” Your eyes softened as they met his. “Feel free to summon me if my help is required.”

At that, you made yourself scarce, unaware of the look of longing in Ravus’ eyes as he stared after you.

Just a few hours later, Ravus had called for you once more, requesting for dinner. You delivered his meal to his office without a word, only to be stopped by him as he requested that you join him and have a bite as well.

“I’ve already eaten, Ravus.”

“Would you do me the honor of gracing me with your company, then?” He pulled out a chair for you, the hard strain in his eyes growing tender for a few moments.

Only you still got to see this side of Ravus. Only you could do this to him.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you sat there in his office, basking in the quiet. Though no words were shared, the company you offered each other made for a fairly pleasant night.

When word of Lunafreya’s imminent union with Prince Noctis of Insomnia came to light, you grew worried. Not just for Lunafreya, but for Ravus as well. Ever since the death of his mother, he had come to loathe the Caelum line and, in effect, Noctis himself.

His bitterness and rage towards the Lucian royal family had consumed him over the years. You had seen firsthand how such dark thoughts and feelings had changed Ravus, so with the announcement of his sister’s engagement to the Crown Prince, you became distraught over how your own prince would handle the news.

One day, you noticed the younger Nox Fleuret carrying a suitcase as she made her way across Fenestala Manor. She appeared to be dressed for travel, prompting you to wonder what her intentions were. As far as you knew, Lunafreya had no meetings scheduled for today. She made no mention of going out, either.

With your brows furrowed, you caught up to her and asked, “Princess, where are you off to?”

“(Name)!” she squeaked in surprise. “I am in need of your help, kind (Name). Please, allow me to leave as I must speak to King Regis immediately!”

“King Regis…?” you repeated, trying to process the growing urgency on her face. “Is this about your engagement to Prince Noctis?”

“It is more than that.” Lunafreya nodded, taking ahold of your hand. “Please, (Name), I must make my way to Insomnia as soon as possible. Will you assist me?”

Your mind scrambled to sort out your thoughts. “I… I cannot, my Princess,” you informed her regretfully, feeling a pang at the frown that took residence on her face. “But it is only because I swore that I would remain by your brother’s side. You remember, do you not?”

“Of course I do. I am eternally grateful for your honor and devotion to Ravus.”

You bit your lip, sending a prayer to the gods above that all would work well. “Still, I cannot simply abandon you in your time of need.” You pulled her to the side and stealthily made your way to the lower floors of the manor. “I may not be able to escort you to Lucis, but I can at least ensure that you find your way out of Tenebrae.”

Lunafreya’s expression brightened at your words. “Thank you, (Name). I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. Now come, we must make haste.”

Both you and Lunafreya had evaded the imperial guards that monitored the hallways of the manor. Just as you were nearly at the door, the two of you were stopped by none other than Ravus himself.

Snatching Lunafreya from your grasp, he dragged her towards a nearby room, but not before sending you a scathing look.

“And you,” he snarled, “I will have a word with you once I have settled things with my sister.”

The dread that churned at the pit of your stomach almost hurt as more as the pain in your heart due to Ravus’ anger directed towards you.

“What were you thinking?!” he barked, slamming the door of his office.

You opted to create a small distance between you and Ravus, growing cautious of his boiling rage. Drawing closer to his desk, you answered, “I merely offered my assistance where it was needed, Ravus. It is as I have done for you and your family all these years.”

Ravus sneered at your response. “Were you foolish enough to allow Lunafreya into the clutches of our mother’s murderer?”

The neutral mask you wore began to crumble with the beginnings of a frown. “Ravus, I understand that you blame King Regis for the death of our queen, but-”

“Understand? You think you understand?”

This was the first time you had ever truly been on the receiving end of Ravus’ fury. It wounded you deeply, causing you to wither away at his spiteful voice. His build, which had grown sturdier even more, now felt menacing as he towered over you.

Still, you reminded yourself of your promise to Lunafreya, no matter how much Ravus was now hurting you.

“You think you understand what my sister and I have been through?” he continued with a scoff. “Are you so stupid to believe that you are so special simply due to our history together?”

Your eyes began to water by then, but you remained rooted in your spot. “I-I…”

“If that is what you believe,” he snapped, “then you are much more idiotic than I thought you to be.”

This time, you flinched. You kept your head bowed in order to hide the steady stream of tears that rolled down your face. “R-Ravus, please…” you hiccuped, “I know you are hurting, but please…”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING!”

A sob threatened to escape your throat, but you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep it in. “Please,” you whimpered pathetically, “do not hurt me like this, Ravus.”

Your plea seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, for Ravus broke you down even further with one simple but cruel statement.

“I do not need you any longer.”

“Wh-What?”

“You are hereby dismissed of your duties,” he continued, voice devoid of emotion. “Until a more suitable role for you can be found, you will remain at the manor for the time being.”

You were openly weeping by now. “Ravus, you cannot mean this.”

“I do,” he retaliated coldly. “Now get out.”

You lifted your pain-stricken gaze, only to pull away the moment your eyes met Ravus’ seething glare. Where was the Ravus you loved? This wasn’t him. The Ravus you loved wouldn’t hurt you so brutally without any heed to your sensitive emotions. The Ravus you loved wouldn’t strip you of the one thing that gave your life meaning throughout the years.

What were you to do now, if you could not remain by his side?

Sniffling, you shuffled your way towards the doorway where Ravus stood. You lowered your head once more as you bumped against him. But, before taking your leave, you offered some parting words to Ravus that would haunt him forevermore.

“You… You will always be my heart, dear Ravus. I pray that you find peace and happiness.”

In the days leading to Lunafreya’s escort to Lucis, you steered clear of both her and Ravus. Ultimately, you were no longer bound to them, at least by Ravus’ words.

‘I have failed you, my Princess,’ you thought glumly, looking up at the night sky. ‘How can I remain by your brother’s side if he no longer wants me there?’

Soon, Fenestala Manor grew quiet with the departure of the remaining Nox Fleurets as they traversed to Insomnia. It didn’t take long before news of the nation’s fall reached your region, causing you to plunge into a pit of despair as the tragedy sent a blow to your very core.

King Regis, dead. Even the sweet Prince Noctis was said to have passed on. But what truly broke you was the news that your dearest Lunafreya was gone as well.

Maria, who had remained in your company the past few days, could do little to console you as you drowned in your hysteria. This couldn’t be true. You refused to believe it. No, Lunafreya was still alive. She had to be.

And what of Ravus? Where was he now? Had he fallen amidst Niflheim’s betrayal as well?

You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

‘Please,’ you begged to the heavens above, ‘please, keep them safe. They’re all I have.’

Some of your worries had been eased at the return of Ravus. Though he retained his cold demeanor, he brought with him a new prosthetic — one that you couldn’t help but marvel at as you stood before him in his office yet again.

Though news of his arrival had reached you, you had forced yourself to remain at your quarters and not seek him out. With the memory of your last conversation still painfully fresh, you chose not to look for Ravus, providing him the space and privacy he had forcefully set between the two of you.

Your efforts were put to rest when Ravus himself summoned you. Here you now were, avoiding his gaze as you fidgeted nervously in front of him.

The silence was incredibly overbearing, but you feared that if you spoke, he would only lash out at you again. Thus, you kept mum, giving Ravus the floor to voice his thoughts, whatever they may be.

At first, he sighed. Then, with a few careful steps, he approached you. Raising a hand — from his flesh limb, notably — he caressed the side of your cheek in a motion so affectionate, you had to question if this was really the same Ravus you had last perceived before the blatant dismissal of your obligations to him.

“You appear well,” he commented softly, his hand leaving your face.

You couldn’t help but long for his touch. Still, all you could do was nod, feeling as if your voice and words would merely betray you if you tried to speak.

“I…” You could hear his fists clench. “Will you look at me? Please?”

At this, you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Based on the memory of your last meeting, you had expected to see bitter rage in his stare. You were proven wrong, however, as you found nothing but throbbing emotion looking back at you.

There it was. The same fondness he used to look at you with. The same tenderness and affection his dual-colored eyes had always revered you in.

There was also one other thing you found in his soft gaze, but you dared not voice your thoughts in fear that you were simply dreaming.

In his eyes, you found love.

“I am sorry.” His voice broke. The last time you were a witness to Ravus’ tears was shortly after the death of his mother. Now, such waterworks were making a return, though you found it hard to fathom that these tears were due to his own grieving for you.

“I was wrong,” Ravus went on, reaching out to you but stopping short, as if he was afraid you would reject him. You eased his fears by meeting him halfway, reaching up on your heels to hold his face in your hands. “I do need you, (Name). I will always need you.”

His hands enveloped yours as you both cried for each other. “Ravus…”

“I meant none of it. Not a single word I had uttered that day held any truth. Please, believe me.”

“I know, Ravus,” you sobbed. “I know.”

You don’t know what it was that had happened to him in Insomnia to cause this sudden turnaround in Ravus, but you weren’t going to question it. All that mattered was that he was here now, with you.

“I realize now that it was I who was the foolish one. It was always me. Never, ever you.” This large man, whose mere presence held a threatening aura towards his foes, was now a snivelling mess in your hands. “I beg for your forgiveness.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” you assured him tenderly, wiping away the tears that had leaked during your exchange of words. “I am relieved that you, too, are well.”

“I will never forgive myself for hurting you that day,” he admitted, pulling you closer. You felt your lip quiver as you recalled the relentless words he had directed to you back then.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of such memories. “None of that,” you told both Ravus and yourself. “What matters is that you are here now.”

“There is so much that has been lost, but I will not allow you to be lost to me as well. Not anymore.” He paused for a bit, moving his grasp from your hands to your face, albeit hesitantly. “What you said then, did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“You… You own my heart, (Name),” he confessed at last, leaning his forehead on yours. “I would like to know if your sentiments remain the same, though I know I am undeserving of them.”

A sweet smile began to surface amidst your tears. Carefully bringing your face closer to his, you whispered against his lips, “You are my dearest heart, Ravus, as you have been and always will be. Nothing will change that.”

What lay ahead seemed bleak, what with Niflheim’s rise and the still unknown whereabouts of Lunafreya. But, as you remained glued to Ravus, your mouth locked with his in a passionate exchange, all you could do was melt into him and allow your feelings of love to come undone once and for all.

Come what may, you would remain by his side until the very end. What made it easier this time around was the knowledge that he would do the same for you.

At the end of the day, it was just as Lunafreya had told you all those years ago. You were his heart, just as he was yours.

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seracross · 7 years

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Heart of Fire - Chapter Seventeen: Rising Mountain, Setting Sun

Summary: “A dragon without fire is nothing but a liability.” Nine years ago, Syra was thrust into a war: a hide-and-seek battle for control of five powerful crystals, hidden by a secret organization 200 years prior. Taking human-form, Syra searches the dragon-hating city of Altaira for clues on their location. But when her secret is revealed, fickle hearts are quick to change. And when an old enemy raises his scaly head, who will be there to turn to? Her estranged siblings? An ex-fiancé? Or a temperamental pixie the size of a duckling? In a race against her father’s murderer, Syra must traverse the five kingdoms to halt his efforts to rebuild a powerful relic that should never have been created. Are the bonds of love and family strong enough to survive the horrors of secrets and betrayal? And how do you fight an elder dragon bent on revenge when you’re a wyrmling who can’t even breathe fire?

Genre: Fantasy, Adventure, Romance, Drama

Rating: PG-17 (Strong Language & Violence)

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“Syra! Syra!” Aidan called to the unconscious body Namir had laid in front of him.

“What happened?” Cassius went to touch her face, but drew back from the charred flesh that looked up at him.

“An explosion. Namir managed to catch her, but...” Aidan cringed at sight below him. At the red, melted skin that spread across her face. At the bubbling blisters slick with blood. He fought to push them away, but image after image of his brother came flooding back. And they brought the pain and nausea with them.

“Aidan?” Surprised concern came from Cassius as he watched tears flood the usually stoic prince's eyes.

“I'm sorry,” as whimper barely escaped Aidan's lips, “I'm sorry I couldn't...couldn't help...couldn't protect you. I tried...but—”

He choked back a sob, and the twins stared in astonishment.

“Why isn't she healing?!” Aidan spat, making them jump.

“I-I don't know,” said Petra, “maybe she's hurt too badly?”

“How?” he glared at her, pain contorting his reddened face. “She's a bloody dragon! You guys are remarkably hard to kill!”

Petra puffed up, “You would know, wouldn't you?!”

Aidan winced. He did it again.

“Sorry, I'm just...I'm trying. But, I don't know what to do.”

“We know,” Cassius said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It's hard to unlearn things, and Fear is a strict teacher.”

Aidan shot a grateful look up at Cassius, and he gave Aidan a pat before reaching down to lift Syra up.

“We need to get her to Moremi. She might know something.”

“Moremi's probably busy with Dürgah. We have to—”

“Dürgah's dead,” Petra said flatly, causing Aidan to choke. “That rahg stabbed him and he bled out before Moremi had a chance to bandage him.”

“And now, so will Syra,” his voice cracked as he gripped her petite hand.

“She will not!” Petra spat, standing. “She can't.”

“Let's get her to Moremi, in any case,” said Cassius. “She helped Syra once, she can do it again.”

The entire village seemed to be crowded around Moremi's hut when they delivered Syra to the front door. Kiithran huddled with snouts pressed to every window, and many weeped off to the side.

“There you are!” Suri said, hurrying out the door. “Come! You should be with us, too. Raz would—”

Suri froze when she saw Syra's limp body in Aidan's arms, “What happened?”

“No time,” Aidan said, pushing past her, “We need Moremi's help.”

“W-wait, you can't! She's—”

But Aidan was already through the door.

“Moremi! We need your—”

Sorrowful eyes looked up at him from Dürgah's lifeless body, and he froze.

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to int—”

“Syra?” Razira stood from father's side to inspect her friend's injuries. “Not you, too,” she whimpered at Syra's shallow breathing and the burns that covered half her body.

“Moremi?” She looked over to the grieving healer with pleading eyes, “Please?”

“Of course, bring her here, quick.” Moremi left her chief's side and examined the damage, “This,” she said with a nod, “this I can fix.”

She hurried about her supplies, chopping, grinding, and mixing until she brought over a bowl of brown-green salve.

“Help me put it on the burns,” she said, slathering the goo over the red, blistered skin. “We'll have to keep it covered, but it will protect the wound and relieve the pain while she heals.”

“Thank you, Moremi,” Cassius said, tearing up, “for helping even though you're in pain, too.”

She swallowed a knot and glanced forlorn at her chief's body. But, then returned to applying the salve with a weak smile, “It's what Dürgah would have wanted.”

A vigil was held that night. After Dürgah's family had grieved over his body, the Aerie followed Viilah, Razira, and Namir up the island's slope to a clearing on the highest ledge. There, it was placed on a pyre. One after the other, each member paid their respects until Viilah was left holding a torch in shaking talons.

“You never gave me choice, you know,” she whispered to her mate. “I could have had my pick of mates, but you stole my heart before I even went looking. But I never once regretted it. To Morai, you were Gahirem: their strong but compassionate leader. To our rima, you were teacher and giver of warm nuzzles and sloppy kisses. And to me,” her voice broke, “you were my partner, my best friend, my 'rising mountain'...my Dürgah.”

She clenched the torch in her hand and looked out over the mourning crowd, “The rising sun has now set! And though the night will be long and lonely, we know it will rise again.” She glanced over to Razira with a sad but proud smile, “It will be a different sun, but one that is bright and beautiful, and full of new possibilities! So tonight, we send our brother back to the skies, where the sun is warm and the winds soft. May he soar forever!”

“Forever may he soar!” cried the gathering.

“Goodbye, mikhan” Viilah hushed and tossed the torch onto the pyre.

“Syra should've been here,” said Petra to Cassius as they watched the pyre blaze.

“She would be if she wasn't—”

“Burned?”

Cassius opened his mouth, but had no rebuttal.

“Marrak is an Ignis—just standing next to one will burn you. She's only on her third molt, Cas. If Father's hide couldn't stand up to him, how can she? Or us, for that matter?”

For the first time since meeting Syra, Petra looked worried. Not angry-worried, like she had been over Tilly, but panicked-worried. She looked, scared.

Cassius clenched a fist and watched the fire turn Dürgah's feathers into ash, “I don't know. But we have to try. We've come too far to just give up and run.”

“No running, huh?” Petra scoffed.

“Never thought that'd be aimed at you?”

“I don't run,” Petra snarled with a glare.

“I know you don't.”

Silent words passed between the twins and Petra finally backed down, “We just have to destroy those shards. Maybe Marrak will give up without them.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Shut up, Cas. Let me have hope in something.”

Cassius was quiet, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth as they stood there, in the chilly night air, where the moon and stars greeted Dürgah's ashes sent on the wind.

Moremi had insisted on keeping Syra overnight, so the party decided to spend the late night hours comforting Razira in her room.

They told of their own stories of loss and grief—albeit briefly—and watched her walls slowly crumble. There, Razira allowed herself to break: to laugh and cry at the good and bad times that swarmed her mind, to curse herself for all the grief she had caused him and for taking their time for granted, and eventually—after her wails had quieted—to fall asleep by Petra’s lap.

“We should go,” Cassius said, standing. “Let her sleep.”

They stood to leave, but Petra refused to budge.

“I’m staying right here.”

Aidan went to argue, but Cassius caught him by the shoulder and they left Petra to keep watch over the grieving kria.

“You don’t have to stay,” Razira said when all was still.

“Yes, I do.”

They sat in the quiet, with Petra leaving Razira to mull around in the endless thoughts she knew plagued her mind.

“I’d like to tell you it goes away—the pain,” Petra finally said, “but it doesn’t.” Her voice was dry and flat, but Razira could hear the silenced wails behind it. “You will hear him, smell him, see him just out of your sight. I’ve been told it dulls over time—that the ache for something missing becomes a reminder that they’re always with you. But, I haven’t gotten there yet.”

“I doubt that.”

Petra scoffed, “You say this after knowing me for two days?”

“That’s all I need.” Razira didn’t look up, but she knew Petra’s gaze was on her, “You’re strong, Petra, anyone can see that. You’ve known sorrow, yet you still push forward. I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You can’t. Not alone.” She sighed, “I’m not proud of it—and don’t you dare repeat this—but, after my father was killed, when the humans put bounties on our heads, if it weren’t for Cassius, I’d probably be a stain on the mountainside right now. You still have your mother, and Namir, even little Suri. Don’t take them for granted.”

Razira nodded and there was more silence.

“You think the Aerie will execute him?” asked Petra, “Namek?”

“I don’t know. We’ve only ever grounded trespassers—never killed them. But, then again, we’ve never had…this happen.”

Petra kept her mouth shut. She would have clawed Marrak’s throat out had she been given the chance. But this was not her clan. She had no say in policy. No matter how backwards she thought some of their traditions were.

“Have you forgiven them yet?” Razira asked after some reflection. “The ones who took your family?”

This caught her off guard and memories of her father, Marrak, and Altaira flooded past Petra’s eyes. She caught a snarl behind her teeth, “No.”

It was the image of a broken Aidan clutching her sister—the frustration and sincerity in his apologies��that made her pause. “Not all of them, anyway. But…I’m trying.”

Everyone was happy to see Syra fully recovered the next morning. But Petra could see the bitter wish hiding behind Razira’s eyes. The wish that her father had also recovered, perhaps even in Syra’s place. She hid it well, as was expected of the next Lahirem, but Petra knew that look and Cassius tried to keep her mood from infecting his own.

“You healed right up!” Razira gave Syra a playful nudge with her snout.

“Thanks to Moremi.” Syra patted the bandage Moremi left on her cheek just as a precaution.

“I hope you took notes,” said Petra.

Syra held up a small jar filled with the brown-green gel, “Packed and ready.”

“Speaking of ready,” Viilah turned to her daughter, “are you?”

Razira took in a long, deep breath and looked out the window at the gathering that flooded the clearing below the hill.

“Guess I have to be.”

“You’ll do just fine,” Viilah pressed her forehead to Razira’s, “we believe in you. Dürgah believes in you.”

Razira’s eyes glistened.

“Plus, I’ll be there when you mess up.” Namir puffed his chest in jest and Razira smacked his shoulder.

“Me, too! Me, too!” Suri bounced and wagged her furry tail.

Razira beamed and laughed, and shot Petra a grateful nod, “I know.”

Viilah led the procession down the winding path to the ceremonial platform, the Kiirem held between gentle jaws. It felt more crowded this time. Aerie members huddled close together for support—some still wore tear stains down their muzzles. Even Aidan seemed to stand closer to her.

“The night has lifted!” Viilah stood over the crowd, Kiirem in hand, and Razira sitting somber behind her. “And with it, our sorrow.”

Turning her back to the crowd, Viilah handed the Kiirem to Namir who fluttered up to the arching wooden banner that topped the stage. There, he hung the headdress where a sun was painted to both rise and set.

“For the dawn has brought us a new sun to comfort and lead us.”

Stepping aside, Viilah and the pounding of drums welcomed Razira to the front. Her legs shook but she kept her chest up and face forward. Forward to her people, to the greenery that merged with the blue sky she swore to protect, to the possibilities that burned in her chest.

Syra watched from below, finding herself in awe. I wish I could be that confident. She glanced over to Petra who looked on with a giant grin, cheeks flushed with pride for her new friend. Does Petra look like that? Does the clan look at her like they did Papa? A faint smile flickered on her face. I hope they do.

“Razira-kaal!” Viilah confronted her daughter, removing her own headdress, “Daughter of Dürgah and Viilah, Kaalira of Morai, the sky beckons you to lead its people. Will you accept its charge and treat every family as your own? To teach and lead each member with your best conscience until you choose a mate worthy of your brilliance?”

Razira met her mother’s gaze with no falter, “Until I choose a mate, I will lead with my best conscience.”

Syra could see the silent words pass between them, but pride never left Viilah’s face.

“Then shine bright, Razilah of Morai!” She lifted her headdress into the air, “As the setting sun guides us home and invites the evening mist, we pray you give us strength for the day and comfort in the night.”

Bittersweet bugles erupted from the gathering and drums sounded from all around the clearing as the Lahirem’s headdress was lowered onto Razilah’s head.

“Razilah! Razilah!” chanted the Aerie.

“Razilah! Razilah!” chanted Syra along with the others. She was happy for her, but concern nagged at her mind. How are we going to get the shard now?

It was like Razilah could read her mind, and the new Lahirem gave her a quick nod when the cheers quieted and the drums died.

“I know this is sudden.” Her voice was steady and commanded the crowd better than Syra had expected, “Like all of you, I wish Pach—Dürgah, had left us old and gray. But he also said that life is as tempestuous as the wind—you adjust what you can, and brace for the worst. That’s why I need you! All of you. A leader is nothing without their people, that’s what he always said. And right now, I need your support more than ever!”

Confused mutters sprung from the gathering as the council members wove through the crowd and onto the platform. Syra wasn’t surprised Karima was not one of them, but her presence wasn’t necessary. Each councilor stood tall beside their Lahirem, their chests puffed with pride.

“War is coming!” The oldest councilor, a graying rahg with a thin scar down his muzzle, addressed the crowd with a stern face that gripped any who heard him. It was this face, and the dark tone edged with fear in the word ‘war’, that made the blood pool in the Kiithrans’ feet. “We have tried our best to ignore it, believing that ground affairs cannot reach us. But we were foolish.”

He dropped his head, ashamed, and motioned for Razilah to continue.

“War is coming.” Razilah repeated, but then stopped. “No…war is already here!”

She lifted Namek’s necklace into the air with a shaking hand.

“Dürgah, my father, and you’re beloved Gahirem, was murdered by a traitor! A traitor that aligned himself with people who wish to tear down our cities and take them for themselves—to destroy and upheave any peace we have managed to create. People who call themselves, the Black Thorn.”

Murmurs buzzes about, and she waited for the quiet to return.

“We’ve known about them for a while, now. We thought we were safe. We thought, because we were a peaceful realm, peace would always last. But we are not safe. And the threat will only grow the longer we choose to ignore it.”

“So, what would you have us do?” came a voice from the crowd, “Hide?”

“Fight! I…we need you, to fight.”

“Are you fog-headed?” A kria huffed up at her, “Kiithran don’t go to war! We don’t fight! You’ll be sending us to our deaths!”

“What about those left here on Morai?” Another kria called, “What about the rima left when their father’s don’t return?”

“We’ll be sending you to protect those rima,” said the elder kria next to Razilah, “and only those who volunteer.”

“And who in their right mind would volunteer for that?”

“Dahmia of Morai,” Namir stepped forward, challenging his squadrons, “for years you have trained. From the smallest rima to the strongest rahg, I have seen you fight and bleed, preparing yourselves for when the Aerie needed you. We need you now. You pledged your wings and your loyalty to protect our home, and now we ask you honor that pledge.”

There was hushed talk among the dahmia, but none were completely sold.

“If you are strong, then you shall be free,” Namir quoted the dahmia’s mantra. “But, how can we remain free if we do not fight back?”

“They’ve already taken our Gahirem!” Razilah joined her brother. “Should we let them have the rest of us, too? Because they will come, and they will take us—either as food for the table, or a beast for the field. Now who’s with me?”

The hands came slowly. But one by one, they filled the gathering, and Syra filled with relief.

“Thank the stars.” She breathed out a long breath and let her shoulders relax. I don’t know how Valen plans to use them, but we’ll take all the help we can get.

“Thank you, all of you,” Razilah said with great pride and relief. “The council and I will discuss what steps must be taken. But for now, eat and rest. The celebration was cut short yesterday, and Sendur and Ekahlu deserve to have their bellies filled.”

With that, the council departed, but Razilah was not yet finished with Syra and her party.

The crowd dispersed and food was prepared. The tension settled to the back of everyone’s mind as music and belly-bloat softened the nerves. After some debate, the council had decided to call for Valen the next morning, as Razilah had insisted that everyone enjoy themselves that night.

With that, the council departed, but Razilah was not yet finished with Syra and her party.

“Namir.” Razilah gave him a curt nod when she was alone with them.

He disappeared into a back room, later returning with the Kiirem held tightly in one hand.

“Take it.” Razilah took the stone from her brother and held it out to Syra.

“W-wait. But, you were supposed to vote on it. What if your people find out? Won’t they be mad?”

“Maybe, if they even notice.” She passed Petra a quick smirk. “At the end of the day, a rock is a rock. It is the people who determine its value. And right now, it’s more valuable to you.”

She grabbed Syra’s hand and slid the green-and-red crystal into her palm.

“But, you won’t be able to read your people anymore.”

Razilah let her eyelids droop, “Perhaps we were never meant to. Perhaps, it is better to trust and listen to your people rather than…invading their heads. Plus, it didn’t work too well for Pacha in the end. We need something better than false security.”

Syra clutched the shard and joyous relief flooded her face as warmth flooded her hand, “Thank you.”

“Put it somewhere safe. If things are as bad as Valen says, the Black Thorn could have eyes anywhere, and Koth is a long ways off.”

“Koth? Is that where the next shard is?” asked Aidan.

Razilah nodded, “Pacha always spoke fondly of Stahdler, the Nord's chief. But that was before the border disputes, so I can't guarantee they'll be that welcoming. Make sure to contact Valen before you attempt to cross the border—Stahdler might be aware of the Kesh Raza, but his guards won't.”

“Perfect. Right when I have no sword and no rali.” Aidan grumbled to himself. Not to mention he now had no way of fighting Marrak.

“Not true,” Namir said, “not completely.” Again, he left the room, but this time returned with a long wooden box.

“My dahmia scoured for hours looking for this, just so you know.” Namir set the box in front of Aidan and lifted the lid.

Aidan's excitement evaporated as the blade gleamed up at him in two ragged pieces.

“Unfortunately, we didn't find it whole.”

Aidan's shoulders drooped and he let his head fall into his hands, “Now what?”

“Can't we just reforge it?” Syra turned to Razira, “You have blacksmiths, right? How much trouble could that be?”

“Near impossible,” Aidan muffled through his hands. “You forget what it's made of. Austram may be called blue steel, but it requires a precise technique to smelt and an even more precise smith. And with the supply of austram at nill, most of those smiths have changed vocation or relocated.”

“Most, but not all.”

Aidan's head shot up at Viilah's correction, “You know of one?”

“One. And I'm not even sure if he still meddles in austram.”

“It's still worth a shot.” His eyes pleaded with the siblings, “I know it might be a detour, but that sword is the only way I can help you fight Marrak.”

Petra grumbled to herself, but nodded her approval.

“Where is this smith?” asked Syra.

“Dairos.”

Syra flinched. Dairos was one of the cities Valen said harbored the Black Thorn.

“He's a halfling named, Weldon. I used to buy jewelry from him when I was Kaalira. He should help you if you mention that Viivida sent you.”

“We can take you as far as Shrye, but you'll have to ride to Dairos from there,” offered Razilah.

“But we have nothing to trade.”

“Then take a moraki as a parting gift. One should be enough to rent you some auna.”

“Thank you, Razilah.” Aidan took the two halves of metal and bound them up with his cloak.

“Just promise me you'll stab that monster Marrak if you get the chance.”

A dark smile split his face and he linked a finger around Razilah's talon, “Happily.”

The morakii Razilah left them fetched a good price. Not only did it pay for their rides, but they left the small settlement of Shrye with extra rations.

Between Shrye and Dairos laid a sprawling saltmarsh. With its shallow waterways and soggy soil, horses gave way to the use of auna for transportation. The flightless birds were reliable carriers—though Petra’s seemed to think her hair was a berry to be plucked—and their long legs and wide feet skitted the water-logged ground with ease.

There was a small outpost halfway to Dairos, and Syra urged them to stop as the sun was getting low.

“We can’t afford a room,” Aidan reminded her. “We can take a break to eat, but we can’t be too long if we want to reach Dairos before it’s too dark to ride. We’ll camp if we have to.” Aidan tied his auna to a railing and dug a ration out of his sack, “Stretch and stuff your face. Then we’re gone.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Petra mocked through a full mouth of bread and meat.

Syra stretched and pump her legs, hoping for better circulation in her hindquarters. It was the heavy, acidic stench that drifted on the wind that made her stop.

“What is that?” She glanced about the green-and-brown plain with nose in the air. “Smells like something’s rotting.”

There were no carcasses as far as she could see, and they were the only people around, save maybe the innkeeper. And as much as she enjoyed the constant breeze, the smell made her stomach turn.

“I take it this is your first time out this way?” The burly innkeeper leaned against the doorway with an amused grin on his face, his scraggly beard hiding a handsome face.

“Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled, “It’s the smell—gets newcomers every time. But you get used to it, I promise.”

“Did something die? Is it the trees or—”

“You’re near the sea, miss. And it’s low tide, so everything’s going to smell like rotting muck. But, that’s a good thing, too. You’ll make better time without all the flooding.”

“Have you been to Dairos before?” Aidan eyed the man from his bench.

“Been there? I lived there. At least until a storm took out my house. I’m not one to tempt the sea, so I sold everything and moved here.” He gave the doorframe of the stilted A-frame a hard pat. “Three storms and still standing.”

“In that case, would you happen to know a smith by the name of Weldon?”

“You mean the Halfling fella?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve heard of him. Before I left, that is. Don’t know if he’s still around, but he’s a damn good smith from what’s been told. Why? You needing a smith?”

“I…managed to break my sword, and a customer of his recommended him.”

“Oi, that’s too bad about your sword. I do have a selection in the back if you’d like some other options, though.”

A twinkle lit in the man’s eye, but Aidan waved him off.

“Thank you, but I’d rather have this one. Sentimental value and whatnot.”

“Aye, I understand. Figured it was worth a shot.”

“I am interested to know where this Weldon is located. Dairos is a big city, and I’d hate to get us lost.”

“Well, first you have to get through the gates—they’re a might picky. You all traders? Travelers? Probably soldiers from the look of you.” He pointed to the scabbards at their waists.

“We’re escorting her.” Aidan nodded to Syra who looked over with raised brows and meat dangling from her mouth.

“What’d I do?”

“She’s a mage,” Aidan pointed to his ear and Syra flashed her earring, “and is traveling for her Magus exam.”

“Well, would you look at that!” The innkeeper beamed, wide-mouthed. “Pardon my staring. We don’t see many of you around here.”

“It’s quite alright.” Syra gave her cute, polite smile.

“Actually, I could use some of your help, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh? With what?”

Warning glares snapped from Aidan and the twins, and Syra caught her words behind her teeth. Careful, now, Aidan’s eyes seemed to say.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to.” The innkeeper caught on to their hesitation and waved the idea away.

“I’d like to,” her voice was honesty and sad, “but we’ve had some rough dealings the last couple times we’ve stopped to help people.”

“I see. I’m sorry for that. People…people shouldn’t take advantage of kindness like that.”

They stood in awkward silence as the lines on his face and the setting sun strung at Syra heartstrings.

“Could you spare a room for the night? In exchange for our help?” Syra met Aidan’s gaze with a raised brow. You did say we couldn’t afford one.

A smile spread across the man’s face and he cracked a laugh, “If you can help, I’ll give you room, board, and send you to the gates with a sealed Letter of Travel.”

“That’s quite a fair deal,” Cassius whispered to Aidan.

Aidan studied the man. He appeared honest and unassuming, but so did Radstrom and Tilly. But he wore no necklace and there was no sign of branding on his bare arms.

“What was it you needed help with?”

The man led them inside the small shanty of an inn, into an area that appeared to be his own quarters. Lying on layers of blankets by a window was a gray ball of fur with large ears that struggled to breathe shallow, raspy breaths.

“Aw, it’s a kila!” Syra hurried to its side and knelt down to examine the poor thing, restraining herself from petting it. “What happened to it?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” The lines on the man’s brow deepened at the sight of his pet’s condition. “I was hoping you might.”

“I’ve never treated a kila before,” she bit down on her lip, “but I think I can at least see what’s wrong.”

She rested her hands atop the kila’s fur and ran them down its body in slow, gentle strokes, feeling for anything that seemed abnormal.

“Find anything?”

Syra shook her head, “Everything feels fine, so far. Maybe if I check its throat…perhaps there’s a blockage.”

She slid a hand under the sleeping creature and ran her fingers along its small neck. But instead of her finding a lump, the kila’s needle-like teeth found her hand.

“Ow!” Syra winced as the rudely awakened furball latched onto the meat of her thumb. She went to pull her hand away, but tiny claws were quick to seize her forearm.

It growled and spit and raked its hind feet against her arm in repeated bunny-kicks. Blood trickled from multiple lines by the time the innkeeper snatched his pet away.

“I am so sorry! Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll heal.”

He plopped the kila onto his bed and grabbed a rag for her arm, “Come, you can rinse off over here.”

Syra followed him to a small wash basin where she let him wipe the blood away.

The man paused abruptly, “Hold on.”

He took a light hold of her wrist for a closer look at the scratch marks. His eyes widened as light seemed to shimmer around the edges of the bloody lines, “You’re not just a mage, you’re a Lightblood.”

Syra retracted away, confused and startled by his grip.

“Will that be a problem?” Aidan stepped closer to the man and narrowed his eyes.

“What? Oh, no.” He released Syra’s wrist and handed her the cloth for her to clean herself. “I’m just…surprised, that’s all. It’s my first time ever meeting one.” He gave a short laugh and returned to calming his pet who eyed Syra with a death glare.

“I didn’t feel any lumps,” Syra reported once she had scabbed over, “so I think she might just be sick. I can try to treat it, if you’d like.”

“I’d be most grateful, thank you.”

Syra approached the kila a second time, keeping ample distance. She knelt by the bed, hands in her lap. Her eyes closed and she forced her breaths to come long and deep. She focused on her heartbeat, on the thumping in her neck, on the sound of air leaving her nose. She cupped her hands together, and warmth began to build inside her palms. Warm. Like her breath. Warm. Like the mana-rich air that tingled her arm hairs. Warm. Like the growing ball of energy that spread from her gut to her chest, then down her arms. Her body hummed and tingled.

The air became thick, like water, with each breath of the room's occupants sending ripples to wash over her. Some were harsh, and hot, like a large campfire. There's Petra... Others tepid and calming, like Spring's high noon. And Cassius. And others more that soothed like an evening breeze on a sweaty brow—her favorite. And there's Aidan.

She blew a light breath out, as if to separate leaves atop a pond. There you are. She let the larger ripples fade into the background and focused on the fainter hum that came from the kila's strained breath and quick heartbeat.

She raised her hands inches above the kila, feeling the ebb and flow of the waves radiating from its body. Let's see what ailing you. Her lids slid open like one who was half-asleep. Light was what she saw: a shimmering wash of colors blending one into the other in waves. Yellows, oranges, even blues and white danced together in a halo around the animal. But it was the patch of navy that Syra's eyes locked onto.

At the risk of facial scarring, she lowered her nose to the dark spot at its throat and mouth. Its breath was rancid. She had been correct. Sickness had lodged itself in the creature’s throat and was festering.

“What is it?” The innkeeper shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from wringing them. “Will she be okay?”

The sudden sound jarred Syra and she raised a hand for quiet, “I'll do what I can.”

Sitting up straight, she took a deep breath and stretched out her hands over the creature with splayed fingers. Her fingertips buzzed. With her right thumb and index finger, she pinched at the cold, dark spot and pulled. The kila shivered as a navy line followed Syra's fingers like needle-and-thread.

“What is that?” Aidan stared wide-eyed at the thin string of light Syra had pulled from the kila's neck.

“A Thread.” Her voice was distant from concentration, “Why do you think we're called Weavers?”

While her right hand kept the thread taught, her left pinched at the deep carmine at its chest, pulling a red thread to meet the blue. With sweeping movements, her hands wove them like a fingerpainter over a canvas, mixing colors as the threads hung in the air.

When the mosaic was finished, Syra pressed it down until it merged with the halo and disappeared.

“Will she get better, now?” The innkeeper petted the sleeping creature's head with a light hand.

“That's up to her.” Syra leaned back with a heavy sigh. “Disease is more difficult than cuts and scrapes. I can't simply speed up recovery, I can only tell her body how to fight it and give her strength.”

The man cuddled his pet in his lap and remained silent for a long while.

“Thank you.” He coughed at the knot in his throat. “After the storm took my wife and boy, this little one is all I have left. Even if she's not strong enough to make it, thank you for trying.”

Morning brought sore butts, hot breakfast, and an affectionate kila that hopped after Syra wherever she went.

“Looks like she knows who saved her.” The innkeeper laughed as it tried to follow Syra out the front door.

“No, no. I'm sorry, little one. Your home is here.” Syra picked up the squeaking furball and handed it back to its owner. “Makes sure she gets plenty of rest. She might look chipper, but she's still recovering.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

He stashed the kila in the bedroom and returned with a letter and a map, “Weldon's shop is here.” He pointed to a building near the port that he had circled in ink. “Again, I'm not sure if it's still there, but I'm sure you can find it if you ask around.”

“Thank you,” Aidan folded the map and tucked it into his vest.

“Let's go!” Petra called from the road—she and Cassius had already mounted their auna and were pacing.

“Be patient, we're coming!” Syra waved them away and brought Aidan his ride.

“Give this to the guards at the gate,” the innkeeper handed the sealed letter up to Aidan, “it'll give you passage.”

Aidan and Syra dipped their heads and trotted off after the twins.

“Oh!” The man called, making them stop and turn, “If anyone gives you trouble, just look for someone wearing a bronze coin. Tell them Fin sent you, and everything will be taken care of.”

They froze. This was Fin? The man who callously abandoned Tilly? Who made deals with honor-less men and attacked innocent travelers? Fin, the Black Thorn member?

Syra's stomach lurched. Not again. Again, she had judged poorly. Again, her compassion had put them in danger. She thought she was being smart by finding them shelter, but she had only walked them into a lion's den. It was pure luck that it was four against one. But who knew what Fin planned on doing after they left? When they were alone on an open trail?

She felt the urge to vomit. He had seen her weave—seen her blood. He now knew there was a Lightblood on the way to Dairos, and one raven could set a bounty on her head.

Syra gulped and prayed he couldn't see the shock on their faces. Even more, she hoped Petra hadn't heard him. Like we need anymore attention from them.

But Aidan raised a casual hand and waved, then continued on like nothing was amiss.

Syra's hands were trembling, “That's...I can't believe—”

“I know.” He kept his voice down as they neared the twins.

“What do we do?”

“We find Weldon, and leave. Soon.”

She bit hard on her lip, “We can't tell Petra.”

“Wasn't planning on it.”

#Heart of Fire #dragons #magic #fantasy #sword and sorcery #romance #adventure #epic fantasy #high fantasy #grief #death #war #racism #worldbuilding

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