#would alyssa ever have been so drawn to a boy who had a smile that reminded her of the girl who made things so hard for her? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

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Idiots ~ H.D.

A/n: God I love requests when people KNOW my branding!!

Request: “Hamish duke x male reader we’re the reader is a magician but can’t tell when someone is flirting with him and hamish trying to get his attention” by anon

Word Count: 3800+

Masterlist

Once upon a time, two boys sat at a table together in a little coffee shop. One of them went on and on and on about something and the other watched him with an expression that channeled both confusion and adoration. Everyone looking on had the same mixed expression, but this time with different emotions: charmed amusement, and frustration.

See, Hamish and Y/n were adorable and obviously in love and those who didn't even know them looked at them and saw a couple and smiled because young love. Because young love gave everyone hope. Because it was fresh and pretty and admirable and kind of funny when you thought about all they were going to go through, imagining it with a happy ending of course.

Unfortunately, for those who did know them, Hamish and Y/n were really fucking annoying.

They were obviously in love with each other - or at the very least attracted on some level. Y/n always listened to Hamish ramble, even though he obviously had no idea what Hamish was going on about most of the time. Likewise, Hamish dealt with Y/n's severely annoying ability to not perceive literally any attempt at flirting Hamish threw at him.

Don't get me wrong, Hamish was trying. REALLY HARD. He's been trying since they first met. Hamish had been forming a friendship with this girl- the only person who could keep up with him when he talked about his field and major. But there came a moment when he noticed that she lost interest in him and what he was saying, even as she talked and joked along in time. The day he'd met Y/n, the boy had been talking to that girl that Hamish was sort of becoming acquaintances with. He used to know her name, but she had been quickly forgotten when Hamish had noticed how Y/n never lost interest in him, even though the poor English major was obviously way over his head trying to understand what Hamish was saying.

Long story: the girl and Hamish stopped talking in favor of Hamish giving Y/n all his attention. He preferred to be cared about and he appreciated the effort Y/n was giving, even if he couldn't deliver with any results. He liked that he could go on and on about anything - even things outside of school - and Y/n would listen without complaint. There was something so genuine about Y/n. It drew Hamish in a lot. After a while, their conversation drifted from Hamish talking and Y/n listening to Hamish trying to get as much information about Y/n as he could. Y/n was willing to talk about a lot, and where he was hesitant Hamish recognized the line he'd drawn and let it be. They were only friends for five and a half months, but in that time Hamish had developed very deep feelings for Y/n. Which had lead him to try his hand at flirting.

At first he'd thought Y/n wasn't interested, but then someone had made a joke about them being a couple and Y/n had gone along with it without hesitation. Which seemed to Hamish as if he didn't mind the idea. He had looped in a classmate on a promise he'd do the kid's next assignment. The kid had flirted with Y/n, getting the same complete lack of understanding Hamish did. It seemed that despite Y/n being super affectionate and kind, and even though he was quite smart if Hamish gave the time and effort to help him understand, Y/n was the single most oblivious person Hamish had ever met. At some point Y/n had decided that no one would ever like him, or maybe he'd accepted flirting in some other form. Whatever it was, Y/n did not pick up on any common form of flirting at all.

Hamish tried for two months. TWO. MONTHS. He gave up and even tried straight up pick up lines. Y/n's response had been to return with pick up lines of his own and then to say, "I love that we can joke around like this. It's so refreshing, when everyone around here seems to be so gloomy and shit these days."

Hamish was at his wit's end. He was ready to just take a leap of faith and tell Y/n his feelings straight out and take the hit if Y/n rejected him. Before he could, unfortunately, he found a blue rose on his desk one morning as he prepared for his TA period. He'd looked around to see what it could possibly mean and after several hours and dark holes and wrong paths, came across the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. Instead of confronting Y/n about his feelings, he decided to go to this thing tonight. It seemed interesting and might give him time to clear his head. He enjoyed new things and learning opportunities. Something fresh to figure out might even clear his head and help him with this whole Y/n predicament.

That evening as Y/n and him did their usual afternoon studying together, Y/n seemed upset about something. Hamish wasn't going to prod about it, as he'd learned that Y/n only shared his thoughts and emotions when he was ready to, but it was setting a weird mood.

"Hamish?" The blonde boy looked up, expecting Y/n to finally share. Whatever he'd been expecting, what Y/n said next threw him off. "Don't go tonight."

Hamish's eyebrows came together. "Don't go to what?"

Y/n pursed his lips before looking at the colored pencils he'd been doodling with. They'd found that if Y/n took a few seconds every once in a while to do something other than homework, he had a lot better time studying. That didn't seem to be what he was thinking about now. He picked up a blue pencil and reached over, handing it to Hamish. "Will this one be okay to use on your notes? I know you're peculiar about how you organize them.”

Hamish didn't highlight his notes. He stapled them by units and had a different folder for each of his classes, but that was it. If he really needed to remember something, he would use blue pen instead of black. He hated using pencil though- it faded and smeared.

However, despite the oddity, Hamish was not confused about the message Y/n was sending. There was only one thing Hamish was doing tonight, as they'd made no other engagements. And the only way Y/n would know about it...

Y/n was part of the Order of the Hermetic Blue Rose. And he was telling Hamish not to come to the whatever it was.

In Y/n's eyes, Hamish saw a plea for Hamish to avoid the thing altogether.

"It'll be fine," Hamish said slowly. Y/n's level of code and secrecy lines up with the Order. After all, they were kind of like the Illuminati, if the Illuminati were real. It was super secret and most people thought it a big joke. Hamish had thought it a joke himself before he'd gotten that rose. He'd only heard of it in passing, mostly when homework "went missing" and people joked about the Order whisking it away, or someone wasn't in class and people played with the idea of them having crossed the Order. If Y/n was apart of it, he would never say it in any way.

"No," Y/n argued. He seemed to think for a second and Hamish realized that he was trying to deliver a message to Hamish. "Honestly Hamish I think this class is bad for you. You seem to struggle with it a lot. Maybe you should just drop it. I've been... meaning to tell you for a while now."

Raising an eyebrow, Hamish tried to figure out what Y/n was saying. Did he think this would be too hard for Hamish? That he wasn't smart or tough enough? No, that wasn't in character. Y/n always encouraged Hamish to do things even when Hamish himself set a limit. He decided to test the waters, push back a little. Try and get more information. “I mean it's not that bad. I've been enjoying it."

Y/n frowned. "I took it last year and it almost ruined my transcript. I know how much you care about your grades- it might really hurt them. Dangerous stuff you're playing with here." Hamish's eyebrows came together. Before he could ask, Y/n stood and gathered his stuff. "I'll see you tomorrow." He gave a tight smile, fear in his eyes. What was he afraid of? He left and Hamish gave only a small nod.

Was the Order really so serious? I mean honestly it was just a bunch of college kids. Were they... cruel? Maybe it was more of a gang than some powerful organization. Maybe Y/n was in trouble.

Well that meant that Hamish absolutely had to go. He needed to know what was going on and how to help Y/n, if he could. If he couldn't, at least they'd be able to watch each other's backs.

So he did.

And before anything happened, a weird ringing sound took over his entire mind and the next thing he knew he was in a room he sort of recognized but had no memory of. Naked. Covered in blood.

The next time he saw Y/n, surprise surprise, actually wasn't when they were all attacked by those they'd been closest to the last six months. And by they, he meant the three other people he also kind of recognized but, yet again, had no memory of. No, it was actually a little after he discovered what the Order really was and found out he was a werewolf. Alyssa Drake of all people popped out of nowhere, promising to give their memories back. And as she talked to Jack and tried to convince him to trust her, Hamish spotted Y/n next to her.

He became human and put a robe on, coming into the room. He felt a lot of emotions. They pushed him to blow right past Alyssa and Jack, straight to Y/n. Hamish pinned him against the wall, anger seeming to have taken the most hold for now. Y/n looked terrified, but when their eyes met his expression softened. Hamish got the impression that Y/n was not afraid of him, but something else. It made worry boil up and he pushed it down, trying to keep hold of himself.

"Tell me you weren't sent to watch me. Tell me you aren't one of them, Y/n."

The room was very quiet as the others came in, everyone watching. Y/n searched for the words for a second. "I- Hamish, I'm part of the Order." Hamish stepped back and Y/n's eyes watered. He seemed to be more panicked now. "I didn't become your friend just to watch you like the others though! We weren't ever supposed to meet or talk, not like we did. The- the girl I was talking to the day we met. SHE was supposed to watch you. But you started ignoring her and seemed to take to me better, so I- I- I hate it now, but back then I was just doing what I was told."

"So you took my memories?" Hamish demanded. "That didn't strike you as wrong?"

"Okay first of all," Y/n snapped. "I didn't even know who you were for like two and a half weeks after we started talking, okay? When they told me, they introduced you as some incredibly dangerous monster who was hellbent on killing everyone who used magic so even if I had, it would have been in self defense because I thought you were dangerous."

Lilith stepped forward. "If you had?"

Y/n huffed, straightening his clothes. "I didn't ever dust you. By the time they told me who you were, they only told me because I was talking to someone about this guy that I-" he cut off, and Hamish shifted upon seeing the blush rise up his throat. Lilith and Alyssa both wore the exact same look. They knew exactly how Y/n felt. "I was friends with." It was then that Jack's eyes went wide with understanding too. "They tried to convince me to stay away because of what you are, but all you've ever been is funny and smart and really talented and snarky as hell." He huffed in amusement. "I was always kind of impressed with you, your sass is like next level it's amazing." Everyone in the room felt the oddity of the warring emotions of everyone else with the weird sort of light and humor Y/n brought to the table. They wanted to smile, but there was too much else going on. Y/n cleared his throat, trying to not default to humor. Hamish cursed himself for being concerned- he knew that Y/n struggled a lot with being emotionally vulnerable. "Anyway, I don't know who did it or how or when, but they never even asked me to. They thought that we had stopped talking for the most part. I never talked about you again at least."

"Until now," Alyssa spoke up. "He confronted me. Begged me to help because he said I would understand since I was... friends with Jack. I told him about my plan to come here and help you guys and he was more than willing and ready. We were hoping that together we might be able to convince you."

The Knights got quiet, all listening to each other. But it was clear that everyone but Randall was nearly completely convinced, and Randall didn't care enough to argue. If his friends were going, so was he.

They all lined up and Alyssa dusted them. At first they panicked but when they all woke up with their memories completely returned, Hamish's eyes immediately landed on a very hopeful Y/n. He scrambled to his feet, trying to find his words. "You lied to me." Y/n paled. He seemed to be terrified again, but this time Hamish knew immediately why. He was scared of losing Hamish.

Again.

"Hey guys! How are we doing?" Y/n was smiling as usual. It was dazzling to Hamish.

"Better now that you're here."

Y/n laughed. "I know you've been having a hard time with homework, but have you really been so miserable without the comedy relief around to lift the mood?"

Everyone exchanged looks. Everyone but Y/n, who was as always oblivious to everything. Hamish had struck out again.

The first memory was the easiest to swallow.

"Hey Hammy."

"You've been spending too much time with Randall," Hamish sighed as Y/n greeted him upon entering the Den. Y/n laughed. "Maybe you should be spending more time with me."

"Miss me?" Y/n teased.

Hamish looked up from his book, locking eyes with Y/n. "Yeah. Maybe just us? Tonight? Dinner? Movie? Something else?"

Y/n shrugged, his expression unchanged. "Yeah sure dude. I'm starving, and the new-" Hamish stopped listening after that. His message had gone unreceived once more.

He could remember everything, and yet he found himself mulling over the ones about Y/n the most.

"You should wear that shirt more often. You look very good in it."

"Thanks man."

And-

"You free later? I was thinking maybe we could get better acquainted."

"And see I was sitting here thinking we were already best friends." Y/n’s frustratingly beautiful laugh rang out again and Hamish felt his shoulders slump. "Yeah I'm down to hang. Anything for my best buddy."

Then there was-

"Hey Y/n nice pants. They'd look great on Hamish's floor."

"Very funny Lilith," Y/n hummed as he read a book. Hamish shot her a death glare as he sat next to Y/n, his arm draped over the back of the couch they both sat on.

"Not a joke," Randall chimed in. "I think they'd really match the walls. Maybe try it out?"

"I would have to take them off to do that, and I don't see the point of going all the way back to my dorm to get another pair of pants for me to wear just so we can see how these look on Hamish's floor. Total waste of time, especially when I have to have this book read by tomorrow for class."

Eventually Hamish had just turned to pick up lines.

"Hey Y/n, can you hold this?"

He held out his hand and Y/n went to take whatever he was holding, only for Hamish to interlock their fingers. Y/n laughed and didn't drop his hand, even as he rolled his eyes to dismiss what was happening. "Now who's been spending too much time with Randall?" After Y/n looked the other way, Hamish frowned and dropped his hand.

Attempt after attempt after attempt....

"Kiss me if I'm wrong but dinosaurs still exist right?"

Y/n didn't even blink. "Dinosaurs do exist, silly. Well, their bones do. We can go the museum to check them out if you want to?"

Hamish huffed. "What about the kissing me part?"

"Well you were wrong, so I'll have to pass," Y/n reasoned calmly. Hamish glared at the opposite wall so Y/n couldn't see.

He had tried everything.

"You remind me of my homework, because I'm going to slam you on my desk and do you all night."

Y/n burst out laughing. "That's a good one! I haven't heard that one yet. Did you go on some weird kick and look all these up? You've had a load to share lately."

Hamish sighed. "Yeah. Randall got drunk and shared them all with me. I thought they'd make you laugh."

Until he'd finally just said it.

Hamish stood in front of Y/n, desperate. At this point, even his friends thought Y/n was a hopeless case. Maybe they'd been wrong. Maybe Y/n didn't like Hamish. Maybe he was just trying to be polite. "Will you go on a date with me Y/n?”

Y/n smiled at Hamish. "Lose to Cup Pong with Randall again?" Hamish didn't even waste the time to come up with something. He just turned around and walked away, ignoring Y/n's familiar laugh behind him.

He'd been sure that Y/n just wasn't into him. Until:

"If we die today, I need you to know that I love you."

"I love y-"

"No." Hamish grabbed Y/n by the shoulders, his eyes boring into the other boy's. "The Order is probably going to kill us today, or the next chance they get, now that they know about us. Even if it's not today. I can't die without you knowing that I've legitimately fallen in love with you and it's driving me insane."

Y/n's eyes were wide and earnest, but before he could respond Vera and him had to face the magicians outside who had found the Den, and after there had been too much going on... He hadn't even gotten to get Y/n alone before his memory of Y/n had been taken completely in one go.

Hamish remembered everything. He remembered scheming with Randall, who knew Y/n the most of course because-

Randall was the first to move after they all woke up, dazed and trying to process all their new memories. He, of course, tackled Y/n in a hug immediately. They were both crying. "I'm sorry I forgot you."

"I knew you'd come around," Y/n reassured. "We're brothers man. You can't get rid of me even though you totally want to."

Leaning away, Randall laughed as he wiped his tears. The pair had been a duo for as long as any of the pack had known either of them. Randall was the one who acted like an idiot but was super smart. Y/n was the one who everyone thought was super smart because he got great grades and knew fun facts, but who was actually a total idiot in the sense that he had absolutely no people skills and misread almost every situation and made everything either really fun or super awkward. With help from Hamish he'd been able to figure it out a little. That's how they'd all met. Hamish had told them both about the Knights, but only Randall had been chosen by one of the furs. They'd all been friends until...

"Wait, you're part of the Order?" Hamish voiced.

Y/n sighed, Randall's arms falling away from him. "Alyssa came to me before. She begged me not to tell you, because if they didn't dust you then they were going to kill you. I figured it would be better to have you guys forget me than to be dead, at least until we could figure... something out. I told mom that something really bad had happened and you had disowned me. Said-" He blushed. "I said you and Hamish were together and I'd made a move on you. She was PISSED and left it to me to fix. I was just glad she didn't mention me to you at all. She's been mad at me for ages and demanding I figure out a way to fix it, so when Alyssa had the idea to just work with you guys instead of doing what we were told... I was all for it."

"He joined the Order so they wouldn't wipe his memories," Alyssa continued. "Because all of last year's additions had been... eliminated one way or another, we needed more people anyway. And since Y/n already knew about magic and you guys, it was only too easy to convince the Grand Magus to induct him."

Hamish stood and Y/n did with him. Randall immediately got protective, but Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder and he calmed. Not that he could take Hamish... maybe. Now Y/n was curious, but this wasn't the thing to be worrying about right now.

Hamish opened his mouth to speak, and from the look in his eyes Y/n could see what he was thinking. So he skipped the pleasantries and rushed to him, pulling him close by the back of his neck so their lips could press together. Everyone else, despite everything going on, cheered. After everything they'd been through and all the hardships they'd faced, finally - FINALLY - Y/n had figured his shit out.

When Y/n pulled apart, both boys were grinning. "I've been being your friend for the last few months so that when I finally found out a way to get your memories back, they wouldn't question it when we got together because goddamnit Hamish, I love you too. And I hope you still feel the way you did then, even knowing that I'm part of the Order. That I... I know magic, and use it." He looked like he was ready to get rejected.

"You still know nothing," Hamish whispered. "The fact that you could feel me miss you back and you still think I would chose any other relationship or person over you or let anything get between us... How can you be THAT stupid?"

Y/n socked him on the shoulder. "Asshole."

Hamish just grinned before hooking his finger in Y/n's belt loops. "Your asshole."

"Damn right," Y/n whispered, smirking.

Lilith reached over and chucked a pillow at them. "OKAY OKAY! We do have shit to deal with other than your guys' love life." She was right. The boys parted and everyone got ready to do whatever they had to next to make the scales balanced again. To make it all right.

But as they all headed to the the temple, Y/n leaned over and added, "I owe you a date."

Hamish just smiled at that. "More like you owe me ten."

#hamish duke #the order #knights of saint christopher #hamish duke x reader #hamish duke imagine #nonbinary reader #the order x reader #the order imagine #male reader

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moonlightsbeams · 4 years

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The Queen’s Court Chapter 2

Waking up in the morning, Chloe stares at the ceiling. Was yesterday really… real? Was she really a superhero?

She turns her head to see Pollen, curled up next to her on the pillow. Chloe smiles, whispering, “So it wasn’t a dream.”

Pollen stretches, blinking her big eyes up at Chloe. “Good morning my queen! I hope you don’t mind that I slept on your pillow, I just dozed off.”

Chloe shakes her head. “No, no, you’re fine. I think- I think it’s sweet that you care so much.”

Pollen perks up, and Chloe smiles at her before going off to get herself ready for school. If her Adrikins was finally going to show up, she needed to look extra special.

While she brushes her hair, Pollen flies up to her. “My queen, do you have something you can carry me around in? I need to be at your side at all times in case of an akuma attack.”

“Of course,” Chloe preens. “I always carry a purse with me. Now let’s pick the perfect combo for today!”

After picking the perfect accessories, eating breakfast fit for her royal likening, and having her chaffeur drive her, she’s finally at school. Sabrina’s not here yet, so she examines the scene in front of her.

The new girl… Okay it had to be Ariel, right? Is blabbering to Dupain-Cheng about some blog she made about.. The new superheroes. Specifically Queen Bee. Chloe feels her heart swell, she deserves to have an entire blog about her, even without the miraculous. But even though the limelight is on her, she feels her teammates deserve just as much attention as her. Besides, the BeeBlog? Ridiculous name.

“Isn’t the whole point of the team is that they’re all royalty?” Chloe drawls, injecting herself into their conversation. “You’re only paying attention to one part of one hero. Your blog should be themed around royalty, not just Queen Bee.”

Suddenly Dupain-Cheng turns to Chloe, her face scrunched up in undeniable anger. “Do you have a problem with Queen Bee?” she hisses. “She was amazing yesterday and far more amazing than you could ever be.”

First off, Dupain Cheng was talking back to Chloe? She had always been mild mannered and never fought back against Chloe. And secondly, was she seriously accusing Chloe of being jealous of herself?

“I know that Queen Bee is amazing, I saw first hand how brilliantly she fought against Ivan yesterday,” Chloe sneers, shooting a glance towards the boy in question. “I’m just drawing the fact to attention that if someone’s going to report on our new superheroes, she should focus on all of them. Princess Kitten and Sir Coccinelle are just as powerful, brilliant, and fantastic as Queen Bee. None of them would be able to fight without each other.” She stares Dupain-Cheng down, ignoring Alyssa’s murmurs of it being a working table. Chloe has only met her teammates once, but she already knows she would trot to the end of the Earth for them.

Before she could get into a proper fight with Dupain-Cheng, her eyes are drawn to a familiar blonde boy furiously running to school. “Adrikins!” Chloe cries, rushing to him and clinging to his arm. “I’m so happy you finally made it!” She nuzzles into his arm, and pulls him inside school to tell him how lonely she was without him, not caring to notice Sabrina trailing behind them.

Upon entering the classroom, Chloe’s eyes flicker to Dupain-Cheng’s seat. With her free hand, she reaches into her bag for a stick of gum, but her fingers brush up against Pollen. She gently pats Pollen’s head, and then pauses.

Pollen worships her.. But what would Pollen think about Chloe sticking gum to Dupain-Cheng’s seat? What would Princess Kitten and Sir Coccinelle think? Chloe remembers how Sir Coccinelle looked up to her, with his big innocent eyes, and how relieved Princess Kitten looked when Queen Bee was kind to her. And although Chloe enjoys the power she feels tormenting Dupain-Cheng, she feels that Queen Bee just wouldn’t do that. Chloe-Chloe doesn’t know what to do.

Is - is she not worthy of the Bee Miraculous?

She spaces out, at unease with herself, not spacing back in until she hears a roar very similar to the giant beast she fought yesterday ring through the school. She jerks out of her stupor to see Ivan in the monster form burst into the classroom, grab Mylene and storm off, leaving destruction in his wake.

The classroom erupts into chaos, and Chloe takes the opportunity to rush off and transform. She passes Dupain-Cheng, and pauses at the determined look on her face. Dupain-Cheng, who has never stood up to Chloe, despite years of torment, radiates this energy that makes her believe that she could destroy the beast.

For a second, Chloe’s glad that she didn’t put the gum on Dupain-Cheng’s seat.

She slam into a bathroom stall, and opens her bag to let Pollen out. Pollen flutters out of the bag, a concerned look on her face. “My queen,” she chirps. “I feel as if you are extremely upset, what’s wrong?”

Chloe shakes her head. “No time to talk! We have an akuma to defeat! Pollen, buzz on!”

Queen Bee scrambles her way to the top of the school where she spots Ivan clutching Mylene in a stone fist stomping through the streets, while human sized versions of the stone monsters run around causing destruction. Not seeing Princess Kitten or Sir Cocinelle, she decides to follow Ivan to avoid making him bigger, and causing herself more problems.

She follows him to the Eiffel Tower, and lands behind a police barricade. “What’s going on?” Queen Bee asks, trying to put on her most authoritative voice.

She recognizes Sabrina’s dad, who turns to her with an annoyed, condescending look on his face. “Leave the work to the professionals, alright?”

Queen Bee bristles, and bites her tongue to stop herself from calling him a very not nice word. “I’m sorry, Officer, but do you have superpowers?” She shoots at Officer Raincomprix.

Sure, her power isn’t the most powerful, but still, she’s the one wielding the Bee Miraculous and not him. Where’s Princess Kitten staff and Sir Cocinelle’s Lucky Charm when you need them?

Sir Coccinelle lands next to her, and she sighs in relief that at least one member of her team is here. Now all she needs is Princess Kitten, and they can take Ivan down once and for all. “Your Majesty,” he says with a comical, over exaggerated bow. “How lucky we meet again. How may your humble knight help you?”

Queen Bee snorts. “At least you know how to address me, oh dashing knight. Maybe you can convince the kind officer here that we are here to help protect Paris? I’m going to scout to figure out where the akuma is this time.”

“Why, of course, your majesty!” He gives another goofy bow, and Queen Bee leaps off.

As she surveys the scene from a rooftop, a blur of black lands in front of her. “Queen Bee, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Princess Kitten apologizes, her face scrunched up in distress. “I was afraid that I wasn’t a good superhero, or that I just got in the way yesterday, and I panicked, and I just keep letting you down-”

Queen Bee shoves a finger against Princess Kitten’s lips. “Princess, you know what I can not stand? When people who are clearly talented put themselves down.” Queen Bee snaps, looking into Princess Kitten’s big blue eyes.

Queen Bee softens, seeing the sheer and utter panic on her face. “Princess, you are so much more than you believe. Sure, Sir Coccinelle got rid of the damage done to the city, but it was because of you he was able to do that! Without your Cataclysm, we couldn’t have defeated Iv- the akuma in the first place, and we most definitely can’t do it without you. You are more than enough and we need you. Not anyone else. So please, chatonne, stay.”

Princess Kitten blinks a few times, and nods, a smile spreading across her face.. “Th- thank you Queen Bee. I really needed to hear that.”

And with a start, Queen Bee realizes that she has never been this kind. The sweet thankful smile on Princess Kitten’s face makes her want to do it a thousand times over.

A roar from Ivan snaps her out of her musing, and she looks up to see a face shaped out of butterflies sneering down at them. “Paris, I am Hawkmoth. I created and control Stoneheart. To the royal menagerie, surrender your Miraculouses to me if you don’t want to harm Paris.”

“How dare you turn this on us!” Princess Kitten shouts. Queen Bee whips around to see her, eyes furrowed, fists clenched, her staff pointed accusingly at the butterfly face. “You literally said that you were the creator of the akuma who’s destroying Paris! You took advantage of an innocent person’s emotions for some selfish reason!”

Queen Bee steps forward, and grabs Princess Kitten’s free hand. “She’s right. We are not the villains here! You’re literally the one who’s using butterflies to terrorise Paris.”

Sir Coccinelle jumps up from his conversation with a very annoyed Officer Raincomprix to stand at Queen Bee’s side, a giant shit-eating grin on his face. “Seriously, dude. No one’s scared of a bunch of butterflies. Us Parisians have faced much worse.”

Hawkmoth scowls, sneering, “You will regret not taking my offer soon enough.”

Queen Bee looks him up and down, an eyebrow raised, a smirk on her face. “No, I really think we won’t.”

Hawkmoth disappears into a burst of butterflies, but Queen Bee frankly could not care less. She throws her arms around her teammates, pulling them in. “Who’s ready to get rid of Stoneheart once and for all?”

“Yes please,” groans Princess Kitten, but she’s still grinning, and leaning into Queen Bee.

Sir Coccinelle throws his hands up into the arms and cheers. “First villain take down! Or, is it the second? Whatever, doesn’t matter! Lucky Charm!”

“A parachute?”

Queen Bee snorts at his baffled reaction, and waits a moment for his.. Ladybug vision to work. She examines it, and sees that once again, Stoneheart has a clenched fist. “I’m pretty sure the akuma’s in the fist again.” She looks at Sir Coccinelle, and the pieces click together. “First villain takedown, take 2, let’s go!”

After one hap hazardous event with a parachute, a call of Venom that turned out to be useless, and holding Ivan far too close for comfort, they’re all on the ground with the akuma properly purified this time. Queen Bee watches as Princess Kitten encourages Mylene to read Ivan’s paper. She watches as they awkwardly hug, and files away the memory for later use. Teasing or tormenting, she wasn’t quite sure. A beep from all of their Miraculouses tears the superheroes away from the two civilians.

They quickly fist bump, and Sir Coccinelle gives another comical bow. “I’m looking forward to fighting by your sides.”

“Me too, bug boy,” Queen Bee says, and watches him swing off. Turning to Princess Kitten, she gives her a soft smile. “I hope you’re planning on sticking around, chatonne. I would hate to lose you as quickly as I got you.”

Princess Kitten shakes her head furiously. “No, no no! I mean yes! Yes, I am most definitely staying!”

Queen Bee lets herself giggle, and gently boops her nose. “Glad to keep you around, chatonne.” Queen Bee swings back to school, slipping back into the hordes reentering the school, finding Sabrina.

Entering the classroom, Chloe overhears excited chatter from the new girl. “I can’t believe I missed today’s fight! Especially considering the wicked cool new name my blog’s got!”

Dupain-Cheng’s voice returns, strong and reassuring. “C’mon Alya, I’m sure there will be plenty more. That Hawkmoth guy seemed kind of serious. And you know, you didn’t have to listen to Chloe, BeeBlog was a fine name.”

Chloe side eyes Dupain-Cheng and Alya, as the latter shakes her head. “No, BeeBlog was a dumb name. From now on, Paris can get all their news about our superheroes from the Queendom!”

Chloe smiles. Now that’s a name she could get behind. Before she takes her seat, she pauses, and then swivels around to face Dupain-Cheng. “Hey. You can have your seat back if you want.” Chloe tries to say in her nicest face. It was a lot easier to be nice to Princess Kitten, but Dupain-Cheng? A whole other story.

She’s only greeted by blank stares. This is going to be harder than she wanted. “It wasn’t.. Cool of me to force you out of your seat yesterday. You got there fair and square. Sabrina and I don’t care sitting where I forced you to sit before.”

With a huff, she stomps off to the seat, sliding in.

“I thought you said Chloe always got what she wanted?” She overhears Alya whisper. She bristles, about to retract her beautiful and well thought out apology, but is interrupted by Marinette whispering back, “Hey, I guess anyone can change. New year, new Chloe.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Chloe retracts any thoughts of goodwill she might’ve had.

She fumes in the pouring rain, her diamond encrusted phone clenched in her hand. Apparently, Daddy has been so busy with press conferences that he forgot to send for her chauffeur, leaving Chloe locked out of school in the thunderstorm. Sure, the driver was on his way, but that still didn’t change the fact that Chloe is soaked, her makeup is running, and Pollen could be getting wet. Goodness help her if anyone sees her like this, she might die.

“Chloe?”

Chloe was going to murder someone. “Don’t look at me,” she snaps any attempts of kindness leaving her system.

“I never thanked you for letting me have my seat back earlier,” Dupain-Cheng presses on, seemingly oblivious to Chloe’s wrath threatening to pour out of her.

“Whatever, it was never mine to take in the first place,” she snaps, wishing on any star that Dupain-Cheng would just leave.

“But you admitted you were wrong, which is something you’ve done, and you were surprisingly nice about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, my driver will be here soon, so you should get back to your bakery or whatever.”

“Here.”

Chloe turns to see Dupain-Cheng offering her her umbrella, smiling, and damn. That was a nice smile.

“What-what are you doing?” Chloe sputters, attempting to avoid making eye contact.

“I live super close, a little rain won’t hurt me. Please, take it.”

“Why? I’ve done nothing to deserve your handout.”

“No one deserves to be soaking in the rain. Besides, I was kind of hoping this year could be a fresh start for the two of us.”

Chloe looks up at Dupain-Cheng's hopeful smile. She pushes the umbrella closer. “What do you say?”

Chloe gingerly takes the umbrella, reassured by her kind gaze, but jumps when a clap of thunder goes off when they brush hands, pouring rain on the umbrella onto her head.

Marinette restrains a snort, and Chloe’s about to snap at her, but stops herself. “Thank you...Marinette.”

Marinette smiles big, and rushes off into the rain. “Bring it back tomorrow, okay?”

Chloe smiles, and whispers, “I will.”

Pollen flies out, and nuzzles against Chloe’s cheek. Chloe turns to her, and asks, “What just happened?”

Pollen only giggles, and responds, “I think we both know, my queen.”

Chloe touches a hand to her blushing face.

“Fuck.”

Chapter 1

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #Queen Bee #adrien has the ladybug miraculous #marinette has the cat miraculous #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #chloe bourgeois #chloe x marinette #chlonette #adrien agreste #the queen's court #chloe/marinette

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 4 years

Text

Hunted - Chapter Two

A/N: This series is a military AU that will feature characters from Marvel and Supernatural. This will be a rollercoaster and I will try to warn accordingly for every chapter. Also, I want to throw out there that feedback is the fastest way to my heart. And last but not least, a shout out to my girl @thorne93 for betaing all of this (and yelling at me), and to my girl @superapplepie for letting me test this story out on her, you guys are the best.

THIS SERIES WAS PREVIOUSLY POSTED TO @sebs-potato

Flashbacks are italics.

Warnings: Angst.

Characters: Julia Smith (OFC), Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark

Wordcount: 3465

Series Summary:

Julia Smith has spent her entire adult life serving her country, but now she lives her life as an inactive marine in New York city. She’s trying hard to find her footing as a civilian, but she can’t shake the restlessness that has settled in her bones. One day she gets an anonymous note with information about a friend’s suicide, and the chase for information begins.

Her first stop is her old comrade, James Barnes, and together they set out to reunite their old squad, to gather intel, and to solve a mystery. The deeper they dig, the more dangerous it gets, and it does not take long before they understand that they’re being hunted. Now it’s a race against the clock. Can they get to the bottom of this and find out who’s hunting them before they lose anymore men?

The squad is united again for one last mission, and it’s gonna be one hell of a ride.

May 18th 2018, New York City:

Julia had spent the last two days trying to find the mystery person who had left her the letter at her therapists office, and finally she had the name and address in her hand, ready to learn more about her comrades deaths, ready to get this over with.

The first thing she had done was go back to Dr. Madsen’s office and talked to her secretary, Alyssa. She wasn't much help since she didn't see who had dropped it off. However, another patient had been in the waiting room and had probably gotten a good look at the person, but of course Alyssa couldn't disclose the patients information. Jules was persistent though, so she waited until Alyssa went out to get lunch and then she stole the ledger that she kept on her desk. From there, she got the name and address for the woman and went to pay her a visit.

Julia rang the doorbell to the big suburban house, taking in the peace and quiet of the cul-de-sac as she waited for someone to open the door. For a second she wondered what an apple pie life would be like. Husband, 9 to 5 job, kids, a dog or two… a minivan. No. This life wasn't meant for people like her.

Her current daydream was interrupted by the door opening, a brunette woman greeting her with a friendly smile. “May I help you?”

Julia had done her best to look presentable, nice jeans, sneakers, a simple braid in her hair. She had a plan to get intel from this woman, and she couldn't do that while looking like… herself. “Yes. I know you don't know me, but I saw you the other day in Dr. Madsen’s office and I was hoping you could help me out with something?”

“Uhm… sure.”

Man was this woman gullible. She didn't even ask how Julia got her address or anything. “Yesterday I had an appointment with Maria, and while I was in there this letter was dropped off for me at the front desk,” she started explaining, holding up the envelope for the woman to see. “The receptionist didn't see who dropped it off, but I was hoping that you might have?”

“I didn't get a good look at her though,” she said. “Long, blonde, wavy hair, average build and height, she was wearing a baseball cap,” the woman listed.

“Thank you so much.” Julia flashed her a big bright smile before saying goodbye and getting back in the car she had stolen earlier that day.

From there, she had gone to park the car and made her way back to Dr. Madsens office, to take a look around. Across the street and a few buildings down was a small electronic shop that had cameras pointed out to the street. She had walked in there in a low cut top and batting her eyelashes as she filled the store clerk with a bogus story about her car being stolen and the police refusing to help. It took her about five minutes to get a look at the security tapes from the day before and she left the store with a registration number. Before the day ended she had another name and address.

A quick Google search showed Donna Hanscum as an investigative journalist that worked for the New York times. Highly accredited and respected. Julia had no doubt that this woman would have more information for her.

The woman who opened the door was undoubtedly Donna, but she looked more worn than the pictures online. Her brown eyes surrounded by dark circles, hinting that she hadn't slept properly for a while, her skin had a clear greyish hue to it as well, indicating stress and faulty nourishment. “You can't be here,” she said, her brown eyes wide in fear. “You need to leave.” Donna tried to close the door, but Julia put her foot in the way.

“Give me five minutes?” she begged. “Five minutes and you'll never hear from me again.”

Donna stared at Julia for a second, mulling her options over in her head before she finally gave in and let go of the door. The apartment was welcoming, photos of family and friends on the walls, a few plants in the windows, a fresh bouquet of flowers on the table in the living room, this apartment was clearly a home, but Julia's attention was drawn to the suitcase on the floor with clothes randomly tossed in. “Going somewhere?” Julia asked as her eyes found the blonde journalist.

“I'm being followed,” Donna informed simply, but the panic and fear in her voice is poorly masked.

“Why?”

“Because I'm getting too close,” she said vaguely as she walked out of the room.

Julia followed her into her bedroom where Donna picked some more clothes out of her closet and threw them in a pile on the bed. “What are you closing in on?”

“Something big… look. Five days ago I got a case file dropped into my mailbox, no address, no name, no postage. Most of it is blacked out, but your name - along with the rest of your squad - and the name of your last mission is still readable. Unless this was a covert operation, there's no reason for all the secrecy. There was also what looked like a hit list, Wilson and Romanoff’s name crossed off. That's all I know,” she said.

“Can I get a copy of the file?” Julia asked calmly as her mind processed the intel.

The other woman got a notepad from her nightstand and scribbled something down before tearing it off and handing it over. “Meet me here tomorrow, I'll give you what I have so far. Now please leave so I can get the hell out of here.”

“Thank you,” Julia offered before she backed out of the room and exited the apartment, one destination in mind.

***

“If you're still in the conspiracy theory mood, you might as well leave,” Bucky said as he opened the door.

“Is that any way greet a guest?” Julia retorted as she pushed past him and into his apartment. “I found the woman that left me the note,” she informed.

“And?”

“And she knows some shit. Like the fact that we’re being targeted.” Julia crossed her arms over her chest and locked eyes with the man in front of her. Bucky was her oldest friend, when she enlisted he was the Private that was in charge of showing her the ropes around the base. He had grown to become the most important person in her life, and right now she needed him more than ever, she needed him to believe in what she was saying.

He ran a large hand down his face. “Fine,” he conceded.

Camp Lehigh, Virginia. August 4th 2003

“Girl incoming.” Private James Buchanan Barnes nudged his Lance Corporal’s shoulder as he spotted the young woman that walked through the gates of Camp Lehigh.

“You don't see that everyday,” Private Dean Winchester chimed in from behind the two of them while he kept his emerald green eyes on the young brunette that just walked into their camp.

“You boys keep your eyes, hands, and filthy minds to yourselves. Are we clear?” Lance Corporal Steven Rogers ordered with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Sure thing, Cap,” Bucky said, a cheeky grin spreading on his handsome face, Dean nudging his arm in appreciation of the unwanted nickname they had given him.

“Don't call me that,” Steve warned with a hint of amusement before he scurried off to get started on his much too long to do list.

“How long do you think she’ll last?” Dean asked as soon as Rogers was out of earshot, watching as the new girl shook hands with Staff Sergeant Nick Fury.

“We’ll see tomorrow,” Bucky said knowingly. He had lived on this base for the past five years so he had seen his fair share of people come and go. The marines was a tough branch of the military, Camp Lehigh being considered the toughest of them all, and it was definitely not for everyone.

“Attention Privates,” Sergeant Fury’s voice sounded as he directed his attention to the two men. Simultaneously, Bucky and Dean straightened up, clapped their heels together, arms hugging the sides of their body, chin high and eyes fixed on some random target in the distance. “Fall out, Private Winchester,” he commanded.

Dean broke attention, saluted his sergeant and marched away. Quick and efficient.

“This is Private Julia Smith. I want you to show her around the base, get her a uniform and a bed for the night, and brief her about how things are gonna go down tomorrow.”

“Sir. Yes, sir,” Bucky chanted.

“Good. Fall out, Private.” Fury looked over at Julia and gave her a wink before he walked away. Strange behavior? Maybe. But Nick Fury had served with Julia’s father, so she had known him her entire life. He was even the one that showed up on their door when her father fell in battle, he had always been Uncle Fury to her.

Knowing Fury was enough to get her through the gates here, but she would have to prove herself if she wanted to stay, just like everyone else. “Hey-” she extended her hand to the handsome man in front of her- “I'm Julia.”

“James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky. Why don't we go find you a bed first so you can drop off your stuff?”

***

“So, Sgt Fury said something about warning me about tomorrow?” Julia asked as the two of them made their way through the camp. The camp felt smaller now than it had when she was a kid and came here to visit her dad one time before he got deployed. As she walked between the many barracks that made up Camp Lehigh, she felt closer to her dad than she had in years, like an internal peace spread through her veins.

“Yeah. I'm guessing you’re coming straight from bootcamp?” He looked over at her and she gave him a confirming nod. “Tomorrow you’re gonna be tested against other privates here on base. I don't know what you'll be challenged with, but it can be everything from physical to psychological. Only thing I know for sure is that it's gonna be tough.”

“To weed out the weak?” she asked rhetorically. Bootcamp was hard. It was 13 weeks of mental and physical exhaustion, but she had made it through it, best female, and amongst the top ten recruits regardless of gender, so she was confident in her abilities. She also knew that it was only the best of the best that got a place here at Camp Lehigh, the toughest soldiers, and she desperately wanted to be part of that.

“Exactly. We get recruits here every year, but it's not every year that we get new members for our squad,” he explained. “Right now, you are the only recruit here, so you will be tested against other Privates instead of other recruits.”

“Wow. That really fills me with confidence,” she joked. “I know what this place is, James. Bring it on.”

Bucky had seen it in Jules’ eyes the day she showed up at Camp Lehigh that she was serious, the same look he had seen a million times since then, and the look she had in her eyes now, it was all the same. She had her mind and heart set on something and she would get it done, no matter the cost, all he could really do was jump on board and guard her six.

“So you'll help?” she asked, a glimmer of hope shimmering in her hazel eyes.

“I'll help,” he confirmed.

In her excitement she ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, James. You don't know how much this means to me,” she said in a soft voice, her warm breath fanning over his neck. Julia had many ways of addressing Bucky. In everyday conversation she would use Bucky or Buck. During covert missions she used his codename Winter Soldier. When she was angry or hurt she would call him Sgt. Barnes, or she would full on triple name him when she was seriously pissed. But his favorite was James. It happened so rarely, but her voice always became so soft when she said his real name, and everytime it happened, his heart would skip a beat.

Bucky wrapped both of his arms around her waist, closing his eyes as the coconutty smell of her hair reached his nose. “Anything for you,” he said in a whisper.

She pulled away from him slightly, resting her hands on his shoulders as she looked into his steel blue eyes. “You know this means we have to go off the grid right?”

“I didn't come down in the last shower, Doll, I know the drill,” he said, a smug smile on his lips.

“Alright,” she said, smiling back at him before she punched him in the shoulder. “That's for calling me Doll,” she warned as she turned away from him and took the five steps from the living room to the kitchen.

“I'll remember that,” he said, the smile still lingering on his lips as he rubbed his shoulder. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

***

The next morning the two of them jumped onto Bucky’s Dyna and set course towards New Jersey and Donna.

“I can't believe you talked me on to this death trap,” Julia said as she flung her leg over the Harley and sat down.

“I can't believe you’re actually scared of a little bike,” Bucky retorted while handing her his spare helmet. “We travel light, and we travel fast. It's the best way,” he pressed.

“I know. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it,” she said, making a grimace as she fastened the strap on her helmet.

As soon as he mounted the bike and started it up, her arms snaked around his waist and she hugged herself to his back, holding on for dear life as he maneuvered the bike through the busy New York traffic. Maybe this bike thing wasn't such a bad idea, she thought to herself as she could feel the muscles of his back moving through his tight leather jacket.

The two hour ride from Queens to New Jersey took only 90 minutes with Bucky navigating his bike in and out of traffic, picking up speed every chance he got. When they reached the storage facility, they drove a few blocks past it and parked the Harley. Julia pulled her gun from her holster and checked it before shoving it down her pants lining in the back, it was easily accessible there, and also easier to hide under her jacket.

Bucky did the same with his gun, but he also checked that both his knives were in place and loosening the buttons that secured them to the holster. The two of them had no idea what they might be walking in to, so they went in prepared.

“Ready?” Bucky asked, Julia nodding her confirmation.

They were about an hour early for the meet, but this gave them a chance to scope out the place before Donna got here, to make sure they weren't walking into a trap, or an ambush or something. They made their way through a small alley, wanting to approach the storage building from the back.

“See the grey sedan parked down the street there?” Julia asked her partner as they rounded a corner. The street was nearly empty. The entire area consisted of old buildings, mostly abandoned it seemed like, three apartment buildings were placed together down where Donna’s car was parked, but those too looked abandoned. In all honesty, this area seemed dead, but the two marines knew that things were rarely what they seemed.

“Yeah. What about it?” he asked, his eyes scanning every square inch of the street and buildings that surrounded them.

“It's Donna’s.” Julia reached around and pulled out her gun, carefully popping off the safety and holding it at a ready in front of her, barrel pointing to the ground.

Bucky followed her move with the gun, but he turned her back to her. “Got your six,” he informed.

“Twenty steps straight and a right turn before we’re clear,” she informed, letting Bucky know that when they turned the corner he could face forward again. They had done this dance so many times over the years that it was instinct now. He knew how she would move and vice versa, cutting verbal communication down to a bare minimum.

When they turned the corner, Bucky took one last overlook and then turned around. “Left,” he informed and took a sidestep.

“Something is seriously off here,” Jules whispered as they approached the entrance to the large building.

Bucky nodded in agreement as he took his position on the left side of the door and put one hand on the knob. Julia took the right side, holding up three fingers to let him know when to open the door. As soon as the door opened, she turned and stepped into the doorway, gun at the ready in front of her, but there wasn’t anyone in the corridor, just a bunch of gates that guarded the storage rooms. When she felt Bucky’s arm on her shoulder she started moving down the long hallway in search of Donna’s unit. The two of them moved stealthily through the corridor, checking the numbers on each unit as they moved past them. It smelled like old books and dust, mixed with mold and dirt in there. This storage facility probably hadn't been operational in months, maybe even years.

The corridor split four ways so Bucky checked the left one, and Julia the right one. Still empty. “It's down here,” Bucky whispered as he read the two unit numbers he could make out, 300 and 301. Julia placed her hand on his shoulder and they continued moving down the dark corridor in search of unit 320.

“You smell that?” she whispered as they passed 316 and 317 and the unmistakable copper scent of blood wafted up her nose.

Bucky nodded as he held up his hand for her to stop outside number 320. The padlock on the blue gate had been cut, and on the bottom of the gate was a blood smear, telling them that the person that closed the gate had blood on their hands. The two of them exchanged a look before they both nodded a confirmation. Julia took a step back and fixed her gun on the blue door as Bucky sidestepped and grabbed a hold of the handlebar, holding up three fingers to let her know how much time she had.

The loud clanking of the gate was bound to draw attention to them as the sound echoed through the corridors, bouncing off the concrete walls. If nobody saw them come, they would definitely have given away their position now. Bucky put both hands on the gun again as he kept an eye out for any company they might get while Julia stepped into the dark unit.

When she was sure no one was in there, she looked around for a light switch. Bucky stepped inside when the light flickered on, and they both got their gut feeling confirmed. The room had been searched. Boxes and papers lay scattered across the floor, and in the far right corner they found Donna in a pool of blood.

“Fuck.” Julia turned to look at her friend who was about to close the gate behind them.

“I don't think we’re going to find any intel of value in here,” Bucky said when the gate was securely closed again, boxing them in and giving them the freedom to move around.

Julia crouched down next to Donna’s body and reached out to search for a pulse, even though the amount of blood told them all they needed to know. “Looks like two gunshots to her stomach,” Julia informed as she got back on her feet. “She's icy cold, and the blood has started to dry. This happened yesterday.”

Bucky was going through the few papers that lay scattered on the floor, but there was nothing of interest or value there. “Whoever killed her took everything. We need to get out of here.”

“What about her?” Jules asked, motioning to the dead reporter.

“We’ll call in an anonymous tip when we’re in the clear,” he stated simply. “We have to get word to the others… fast,” he pressed as he got ready to open the gate again.

“Barton is closest,” she said. “We should get up there.”

*********

If you want a tag, send me an ASK.

Tags: @capandbuckylvr @buchanansebba

#Bucky Barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #Sam Winchester #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #dean winchester #bucky barnes fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn #crossover #hunted

8 notes · View notes

tonystarkficrecs · 5 years

Note

Hey, i hate to bother you again, but have you seen endgame yet? Also do you have any really happy fics?

I have!! I’ll be doing my best to avoid spoiling anything for anyone and I’ll make another post about it, but if/when I rec any fics containing Endgame spoilers, I’ll be using the tags #endgame and #endgame spoilers.

I’m putting the recs under a cut because this list grew really huge really fast (19 fics!!). They’re the happiest, fluffiest ones I can remember reading (and if that’s not enough, check out the fluff tag for more!).

The (Not So) Great Pretender by RayShippouUchiha

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 19,585

Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

“What,” Tony says softly but with a great depth of feeling, “the actual fuck just happened?”

“I believe, Sir,” JARVIS pipes up from the phone in his pocket, an unnecessary amount of what sounds like glee in his voice, “that you’ve once again managed to maintain your closely guarded secret identity. Truly your subterfuge skills know no bounds.“

“You’re an asshole J,” Tony mutters back as he reaches up to rub at his temple. He either has a headache coming on or a blood clot. At this point he’s honestly not sure which he’d prefer.

“I did learn from the best, Sir,” JARVIS tells him sunnily.

i babysat god and he stabbed me with a fork by surveycorpsjean

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 11,395

Pairing: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Completed: Yes

If these two idiots don’t sort out their shit real soon, Loki is going to stab everyone in this room and then himself.

What I Need I Just Don’t Have by gyzym

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 2,199

Pairing: James Rhodes/Tony Stark

Complete: Yes

If you want this choice position, have a cheery disposition. (Or: Tony needs an assistant. Rhodey needs a break.)

Phil Coulson’s Case Files of the Toasterverse by scifigrl47

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 287,890 (series)

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (+various other pairings)

Completed: No (most works in series completed)

Short stories from the Toasterverse, because the author gets panicky writing long form stories built around plot and has to finish something in order to function.

Phil has problems with these people. So does the Author.

Late Nights and Bare Bottoms by Shi_Toyu

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 1,947

Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Tony stared down at the gingerbread cookies that’d been placed on the edge of the work station. It’d been the smell that’d drawn him out of his tunnel vision. He didn’t normally smell gingerbread in the middle of August. He blinked hazily, but the plate of cookies didn’t disappear. They were still warm, too, when he picked one up and bit into it.

God, and delicious. He moaned and stuffed the rest of the cookie into his mouth, already reaching for another one.

“You like them.”

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Bucky’s voice, but in a flat tone. The super soldier loomed behind his chair, hair a tangled mess and face completely blank. He was dressed in Clint’s ‘I love to rub my meat’ apron and what appeared to be nothing else.

“Uhhh… yes?”

don’t know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 11,209

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

-In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

No, He’s Your Son by orphan_account

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 1,420

Pairing: Gen (pre Tony Stark/Stephen Strange)

Completed: Yes

peter, on the phone: dad i forgot my homework can you drop it off in the seminar hall it’s empty don’t worry

strange: ok

strange, walking out of a portal into a hall filled with students:

peter, loudly: EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM OWES ME FIVE DOLLARS I TOLD YOU MY DAD WAS A WIZA-

may the fourth by irnan

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 1,762

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

So there’s this project Tony has been working on since he was ten years old which is only marginally less awesome than the specs for the TARDIS he totally could have built if Fury would’ve just let him had the Tesseract for a couple hours longer.

Peter Parker’s Step-By-Step Guide to Get These Two Dumbasses to Kiss Already by everythingsace

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 3,781

Pairing: James Rhodes/Tony Stark

Complete: Yes

Rhodes was on the floor, his legs pulled up beside him, and Mr. Stark was kneeling down beside him, asking questions and checking if he was okay.With the biggest heart-eyes he’d ever seen.Peter’s jaw dropped as he stared, his eyes turning to Rhodes, only to realize that he had the doe eyes, too. Not quite as bad and obvious, but holy shit.Holy shit.

Tony Stark is the Alyssa Milano by Akira_of_the_Twilight

★ ★ ★

Words: 1,388

Pairing: Peter Quill/Tony Stark

Complete: Yes

Prompt: Starkquill where somehow Drax was the first one to notice that Tony and Peter were into each other, but he’s been around humans for a while now and he understands that if you tell them things directly they’ll just do the opposite and ruin everything for everyone, so he’s going to get them together using… metaphors

“Kidnapped, enjoys space, likes your music, and can dance,” Drax listed off.

Peter grinned. “Yeah, pretty cool dude. I might actually miss him by the time we get him back to Earth.”

For a man who had been in search of a partner for as long as Drax had known him, Drax was surprised that Peter was unable to see his perfect match right before him.

Earthlings could be quite stupid sometimes.

Rocket Science by marsmaywander and orbingarrow

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 12,094

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated, grad student Tony falls asleep in a conveniently empty classroom and wakes up in the middle of Bruce’s Physics 101 course. After seeing a groggy Tony fumble a simple question, actual-student Bucky offers to tutor him. In a moment of “oh no; he’s cute” panic, Tony takes him up on it. Now, in addition to his already complicated life, Tony has to figure out the answer to the incredibly messy question: “How do you look like you’re failing the class, when you literally wrote the book?”

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 6,007

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Where it was Nick Fury’s idea, but he didn’t mean it like that.

The Tongues of Men and Angels by copperbadge

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 2,369

Pairing: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Extremis has a few unexpected benefits.

Pint-Sized Parker by flyingonfeatherlesswings

★ ★ ★

Words: 3,636

Pairing: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Completed: Yes

Tony is called away from a meeting to deal with a now toddler-aged Peter Parker, who went snooping around in Stephen Strange’s spells.

carpool introductions by sapphirestark

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,401

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

“It’s - it’s nice to meet you too, Colonel Rhodes, sir. I’m Peter. Uh, Parker.”

“I heard.” Rhodey smiled. Well, teenage Tony had certainly never been this polite. “Just call me Rhodey, kid.”

“O-okay, Rhodey.” Peter’s timid smile transformed into a grin. Rhodey decided he would definitely rub that in Clint’s face the next time he claimed Rhodey wasn’t good with kids.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony interrupted from the driver’s seat. “He’s Rhodey after two minutes and you’re still calling me ’Mr Stark’?”

Angry Genius White Noise by copperbadge

★ ★ ★

Words: 520

Pairing: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Complete: Yes

One of Pepper’s favorite activities after a long day is putting on sci-fi movies and watching Tony dissect their bad science. He’ll happily spend two hours curled up against her and ranting about the flawed central plan in Armageddon and how REALLY, HE HOPES AN ASTEROID HEADS FOR EARTH, HE’LL SHOW HOLLYWOOD HOW TO REALISTICALLY AVOID AN EXTINCTION-LEVEL EVENT, DAMMIT. Pepper finds it oddly relaxing, like angry genius white noise. Add in Bruce, and she could sell tickets.

The More You Know by Nokomis

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,457

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

Peter’s first post-mission Avengers hang out goes about as well as one would expect.

home is where the science is by IntrovertedOwl

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,566

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

Tony wasn’t jealous.

The very idea was ridiculous. Laughable. Absurd.

In fact, he was pleased.

Yes, that’s what he was. Pleased. And a little smug.

But the Best of Men by lusilly

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,113

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

In which Tony introduces a fifteen-year-old boy to Steve, and Steve is touched that Tony would introduce him to his son.

(Except he’s not Tony’s son, he’s the newest Avenger, and Tony’s just completely oblivious to how parental he’s become.)

#fic rec list #fanfic #marvel #avengers #tony stark #fluff #tony/happiness

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acidicwriting · 5 years

Text

Billie Eilish -Lovely feat.Khalid

Isn't it lovely all alone

Heart made of glass my mind of stone

Tear me to pieces skin to bone

Hello,welcome home

She lay on her back,the bed sheet caressing her skin with a smooth touch.The sheet covering her didn't seem to offer her any warmth. Alyssa's fingers were cold, body involuntarily shivering whenever a cool gust of wind blew in through the half-open window.Her previously harsh sobs had subsided into silent tears that now only remained as dried-up tracks on her face.Her heartbeat was even,no longer hammering against her chest .Her whole being was now eerily calm, similar to a formerly angry bee, buzzing with menace before being smoked into serenity.A brilliant flash of light danced across the sky,turning it green for a moment,followed by the loud clap of Thor beating his hammer high up in the heavens yet she lay impervious to it.

As if on cue, Patches darted into her room and jumped up on her bed with a shaky meow.The cat's eyes were wide, bottle brush tail flicking in the air as he made his way to Alyssa , sniffing her face before climbing onto her chest and taking a seat. He looked regal really, posture like that of a noble general marching his brave soldiers into the battleground.She was going to miss him.The comfort he brought simply with his presence was unparallelled.His meows, his purrs, that look of smug satisfaction on his face he when he caught a cockroach and brought it back to proudly show off to her.Those two lone patches of brown on the base of his ears that contrasted softly with his white fur.Even his weight on her chest was reassuring .Like everything was going to be alright in the world. Only it wasn't. Not for her.

But that was fine, really. She'd come to terms with it.It all had to end now. No more anxiety, no more constant self-loathing, no more loneliness. She felt numb. And oh,so tired. Her hands were stable as they softly scratched the top of Patches' little head. The kitten responded by resting his chin on his feet and closing his eyes.It seemed like a nice enough way to go ; lying on her bed, cozy, with the only creature in the world that never made her feel silly or worthless,who looked at her with unconditional love brimming in those icy blue eyes.She felt a sharp pang of guilt in her heart as she thought about how Patches would feel when he finally realised his master was dead.In the goodbye message she'd sent Alicia,she'd told her to take care of the cat in her permanent absence. She had turned off her phone so there was no chance of her getting a reply text. Not that she'd get one too soon anyway. Alicia hardly had time to check what her attention-seeking little sister texted her,what with her jam-packed schedule. Who'd actually notice her absence first? Her father? Her sister? Certainly not her "friends". At least she'd filled several bowls of food and water for Patches so he could survive on his own for a while.And if those ran out then,well,he could just eat her right?

Her lunch was leftover linguine with a simple sauce.Last night it had tasted like spring and sunshine on a plate.Today it tasted like ash.She managed to chew and swallow the whole thing, walked to the bathroom,gulped down the contents of the little orange bottle of Ambien and washed that down with a bottle of wine.Then she lay down, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Her wait wasn't a long one. In less than a half hour her inhalations began to consecutively become shallower with her heart rate picking up.Her lips felt dry and when she tried to lick them even her tongue turned out to be parched .Calm down,she told herself, it's okay. She attempted to swallow but that small action stung as if her throat were scraped raw on the inside. She needed water. Right then.

Alyssa sat up ,dislocating Patches ,and promptly fell back onto her sheets, hit by a sudden wave of light-headedness. Inhaling deeply she sat back up, her arms quivering as she pushed herself off the bed, only to take two steps forward before plummeting to the floor. Her legs felt like jelly.Everything looked hazy.She blinked hard, trying to clear her unfocused eyes but to no avail.Heart pounding, she crawled to the dresser on top of which her phone was. She reached out with her hands but only ended up pushing it farther away brushing her fingers against it.Alyssa was slightly breathless now,mouth hung open, insides twisting as she tried to push herself up holding the dresser drawers but found that her body didn't really do what she wanted it to anymore and fell back limply on the ground with a loud thud.Her body felt like it had been hit by a truck.Her hands were shaking and she couldn't do anything to stop them,the muscles of her legs,back and shoulders were contracting wildly yet she was utterly helpless.Her throat seemed to be closing up.Her mouth still hung open but except for the loud gasps of breath she inhaled and exhaled she could make no other sound.She was crying now, screaming in her head for someone to come save her. This was not how her life was supposed to end.Her body was not supposed to betray her like this.Alyssa felt a wild stab of fear clawing at her insides that came with the blunt realisation that she was not ready to die."Help me please please anybody please just someone help me " the voice inside her head kept screaming and screaming and screaming while all that came out of her mouth were small choked whimpers and gasps.She could hear Patches wailing loudly, scared of whatever was happening to her before running off into another part of the house,seemingly eager to put a distance between them and leaving her to fend for herself. It was hot,so unbearably hot.Her body felt like it was blistering. Her eyes burned as they fluttered shut.

She could hear a voice and the sound of footsteps .Someone was in her apartment. "I'M IN HERE! " the voice in her head screamed. It was a familiar voice that said "Uh, Alyssa it's me Johnny from next door, I brought your cat back.He came into my apartment meowing his ass off and it was actually kinda freaky 'cause I thought he was feral but then I saw the collar and HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT HAPPENED" he had walked right into the doorway to her room.Johnny dropped Patches and rushed to her side, turning her on her back to feel her neck for a pulse and simultaneously calling and shrieking the address to a 911 operator. Patches anxiously paced half circles around the both of them,sniffing Alyssa's trembling hands and wailing loudly at her .

The last thing Alyssa saw before losing her consciousness was the face of a medic as she pulled her left eye open,aimed a flashlight at it and yelled something to someone behind behind her.

Everything happened in a rush after the medics came.Alyssa was heaved onto a stretcher,her still-convulsing body strapped down and pulled inside an ambulance that sped away instantly with Johnny in it with her.She was wheeled to the operating room, tubes attached to her arms,a particularly big tube in her mouth pumping in the necessary fluids. The doors closed behind Alyssa and the emergency medical team, separating them from Johnny who had been running right beside them. He stood there, shaking with fright before sinking into one of the couches with his face in his hands. What the hell just happened? Why was Alyssa having a grand mal seizure in the middle of the day? How long had she been like that before he found her? What would have happened if her cat hadn't run to his apartment?Was she even going to make it?

Alyssa was trapped in a nightmare.She kept running but they always found her. The malicious enigmas that her subconscious had created.There were many.People she used to know,people she didn't remember ever seeing.She didn't know exactly what it was about them that terrified her.Maybe it was simply their malicious aura,or maybe it was the way they smiled at her.Cold smiles with sinister eyes .They smiled like they knew a secret of hers.As they'd try to grab her they'd laugh.And when she got away they's scream and moan as if they were in pain.There was a small boy too.He wore a yellow shirt,black pants and black shoes.He never approached her.He stayed in the shadows, just quietly watching her.There was something about him that absolutely terrified her. On seeing him her breaths stuttered, she'd shake and just collapse. Was this all in her head?Or was it real life? Was she simply trapped in another dimension?Was this limbo? Or was this where the dead stayed? If that was the case where were the others?

There was a light now. A brilliant light that had an otherworldly quality to it.It seemed to emanate a soft music. And she inexplicably found herself being drawn to it. She took a step towards it, entranced, reached out a hand only to be pulled back into darkness with a shriek.The monsters were back.

After what seemed like an eternity of suffering,Alyssa's eyes flickered open.And to her massive surprise she found herself in a hospital room, with needles in her arm, what looked like a catheter hooked on her torso and the sound of beeping from the device measuring her heart rate.'What the hell?'she thought and turned her head to the left to see Johnny sitting there tapping away on his phone. He looked so out of place in the drab,pale cream room, dressed in a pink t-shirt, black jeans and white shoes. And yet he looked so good. She suddenly felt inferior and oddly exposed to him in the hospital gown with its thin,white material,hair that was most probably matted to her head and her pale skin.Awkwardly fumbling with the sheets,she tried to pull them all over herself when he looked up and went "Oh thank god you're awake I was beginning to get worried" with a smile so bright she could only stare for a moment before she snapped out of it. "Why were you worried?" it came out harsh due to her not having spoken in a while but Johnny either didn't notice or just chose to ignore it because the next second he was going off about how he was so scared when he found her, and the doctors gave him a mini heart attack when they declared that she had died on the table and then almost fainting in relief when that one particularly determined doctor who seemed to just not know how to give up had miraculously brought Alyssa back from the dead. "YOU WERE DEAD FOR 2 MINUTES AND 42 SECONDS ALYSSA THAT'S ALMOST LIKE 3 FUCKING MINUTES" .He then proceeded to explain how her sister had showed up that night in tears."I swear she would've wiped the floor with the face of that nurse who told her she couldn't see you in the icu right then if I wasn't holding her back" and how Alicia practically lived in her hospital room for the entirety of four days and only went home to shower when Johnny visited each day. " I told her you're up.She's on the way now, it's gonna take her,like,10 minutes and she says to tell you that she's gonna kill you". "Oh" is all the reply Alyssa can muster before a doctor walks in with with a nurse and a woman who introduces herself saying "Hi, Alyssa my name is Charlotte" "She's one of our doctors who are going to see you during your stay here", added the doctor. After a moment she again replied with a quiet "Oh",which seemed to be the only word in Alyssa's muddled, slow brain yet her heart rate had picked up and she began to fidget uncomfortably at the idea of having to talk to someone. She spaced out, didn't even notice them leaving or Johnny resuming his seat on the couch and refocusing his attention to his phone. "Thanks Johnny" she said when she finally came to her senses. He smiled softly at her, "Don't sweat it" he said before he went back to his phone.His smile seemed to calm her down a little.She looked to her right and there was a tray laden with soup and a glass of orange juice.She carefully picked up the glass, pleasantly surprised to see she had the strength to do so, and took a small sip. It tasted bitter. She put it back down and settled back against the pillow,at ease. Her calmness didn't last long ; the next moment her door was flung open and there she was. Alicia, her older sister who didn't really seem to care before but now had eyes brimming with tears.She half-ran to her bed and flung herself at Alyssa and held her so tightly Alyssa wasn't sure if her sudden lack of breath was due to the fact that she herself was overcome with emotions or her sister's stronghold on her. And she seemed to not even care about that because they were both sobbing now,shoulders shaking,saying words the other couldn't comprehend.Johnny excused himself with an awkward "I'll get going then",leaving the door open behind him.

When Alicia finally detached herself, Alyssa found herself become nervous again about having to explain her actions. She opened her mouth, about to say something when Alicia gasps and reaches for her handbag, through which the head of a certain cat with white fur and a lone brown patch at the base of each ear could be seen "I couldn't not bring him he's missed you so much. Johnny says he's been crying for you all the time",she said,letting him out .He runs to Alyssa, meowing, without missing a beat. Patches stands on her half sitting body, hind paws on her stomach, soft front paws on her chest, sniffing her face and then rubbing his head on her face while meowing.Alyssa realised she loved this cat to death.While Johnny may have called an ambulance it was Patches who had run off to Johnny's to bring him to her.She hugged the cat to herself, kissing his small head."Johnny took care of him?" she asked Alicia."Yeah he loves the cat he says it basically saved you", she replied, in an amused voice. "He did,he's my furry little hero" Alyssa said, kissing his head again and smiling softly. "I'll be there for you from now on Aly". Alyssa froze, her mind immediately blanking but as hard as she struggled she couldn't find any words to form a sort of reply.In lieu she said "The door's open".Alicia's face portrayed hurt as she stammered " OH I um yeah I'll leave I'm sorry I know I-" "I didn't mean that you have to leave I just don't want the staff or a doctor to see Patches in here with me". "Oh thank god" Alicia said, visibly relieved as she quickly went to the door and shut it. When she came and sat back down at Alyssa's side she took a deep breath and said "Johnny's hot" Alyssa snorted before replying "Tell me about it". In response her sister smirked "I think he likes you" ."Alicia he calls me a crazy cat lady ", Alyssa replied half exasperated half amused. Alicia grinned, "He told them you two were engaged". "He what ?". Alicia's grin grew bigger "Well they wouldn't let him ride with you in the ambulance but apparently he had to come with you so he just lied". "He was just being the nice guy that he is?", Alyssa offered." Her sister snorted, "He so likes you."

Hi guys.So this is the first story of mine that I feel confident enough to post.It's kind of special to me.And if you've made it this far,through all that cringe shit,thank you.I hope you had a somewhat good read.Merry Christmas!🎄🎄✨

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sassylavellen · 6 years

Text

Dragon Age Retribution - Chapter One

Story: Dragon Age Retribution

A short(?) story by Sam Shenberger

Words: 3,065

CHAPTER ONE

The Ostwick Circle of Magi was large and impressive. In the eyes of many, it put other Circles to shame. It was a large tower, slightly removed from the city and built with strong stone instead of marble like most of the surrounding buildings. Mages from all over the Free Marches were sent here to learn magic, not just from Ostwick. It was well known, but just like most Circles there was always an underlying tension between the Mages and the Templars in the aftermath of the Kirkwall uprising. Most people liked to pretend that everything was fine and that there were no such tensions, but they all knew that one day it would all boil over. It was certainly how Alyssa Trevelyan felt.

The day had started as normal as any other for Alyssa. She had woken up at the crack of dawn, commenced her private studies before breakfast, and when the shadows from her windows crept up the walls to the portrait hanging above her bed, she had left to start her classes. She was excited that this morning's class was her last before she would perform her harrowing, and become a true Mage in the circle. As she walked down the corridor, a voice called to her.

"Alyssa! Hold a moment!" said the voice. She knew who it was, and with a small sigh before she turned, she looked over her shoulder at him. It was Varahel, an elf about her age who had once been a servant to another noble family before they discovered he had magic and sent him here. He was a little clingy, Alyssa thought, but mostly harmless.

"What is, Varahel?" she asked, but continued walking. "Is something the matter?"

"No, not at all." said Varahel quickly. "I just... I just wanted to wish you luck."

Alyssa shook her head as Varahel caught up with her. "My harrowing isn't until tomorrow. There's no need to worry so much."

"But you'll be going into the Fade alone!" said Varahel in a tone of nerves. "Who knows what manner of demons you might meet there! What if you were to meet a desire demon?"

"Varahel, you worry too much." she chuckled. "If you go into the fade trusting nothing and no one, odds are you'll survive."

"You say that with such resolve..." replied Varahel. "It's almost as if you trust no one ever."

They reached the door to the classroom as they spoke, but before going inside she turned again to face him.

"I know what it's like to be betrayed. Perhaps I truly don't."

She was about to enter the room, but at that moment another mage came running down the hall. "Alyssa!" he cried as he dashed towards them. "Alyssa, come quickly!"

"Harold?" said Alyssa in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"It's Benny..." Harold said between gasps. "He's set fire in the library... You have to help him before the Templars get to him!"

"Shit,” mumbled Alyssa under her breath "Let's go!"

They rushed off. The library was only halfway back down the corridor. Sure enough, she could hear a commotion outside before they reached it. "Out of my way please!" Alyssa called as she shouldered her way to the door. She suddenly felt her hand being taken and someone tried to pull her back.

"Alyssa, wait!" cried Varahel. "You could get hurt!"

She yanked her hand from his. "I'll be fine. You stay here and keep yourself out of trouble. Don't let the Templars in before I've had a chance to speak with him." Without another word, she opened the door and went inside.

Sure enough, a good portion of the library was on fire. Alyssa looked around, but could not see very much through the smoke. With a wave of her hands, cold ice erupted before her. The magical ice almost immediately melted, dowsing the flames nearby. Alyssa continued further in. "Benny?" she called out. She heard a scream from a few feet away and hurried towards the sound. There in the center of the library stood a little boy, who could barely be over ten. He stood in a small ring from which all the flames were emanating. "Benny!" she called to him again. He looked up, crying. "Miss Alyssa!" he called to her between sobs.

"Benny, are you hurt? Are you alright?" she shouted over to him. He nodded quickly.

"I'm scared Miss Alyssa!" he choked out. Alyssa noticed that the circle around him was closing in on him slowly. Time was running out.

"It's going to be alright..." said Alyssa, trying to stay calm. "Benny, look at me!" He looked up, tears still flowing from his eyes. "Everything will be okay," she said as she raised her hands. "Do you remember what you learned in elemental summoning last month? About how to conjure ice?"

"I've tried, Miss Alyssa!" cried the boy. "It vaporizes as soon as I summon it." The circle was closing ever nearer, and Alyssa could hear a commotion outside again. The Templars were coming.

"It's okay, Benny!" she said with an encouraging smile. "Try it again." He raised his hands and attempted to summon ice, but with a small poof it disappeared as quickly as he called it. "I can't do it!" he shouted in despair.

Alyssa heard the door burst open on the other end of the library and the cries of surprise from the Templars. "It's okay Benny," she said again. "We can both do this. Together! But I am going to need you to help, okay?"

"But I can't!" cried Benny.

"Yes you can! Close your eyes..." Benny shut his eyes tight. "Good! Good, Benny!" Alyssa called back to him. "Now, listen to my voice and concentrate. Concentrate hard on the spell you are casting. Think cold thoughts, think of the thick snow in the midst of a winter's night, think of the ice that freezes the lake..."

Benny held his hands up again, and this time the spell worked. Ice crystals began forming. Alyssa raised her own hands and did the same. "That's good! You're doing great Benny!" she called to him. At that moment, the Templars came storming over.

"Stop, Mage!" cried one of them. Benny's eyes snapped open and his ice disappeared. Alyssa shouted over her shoulder.

"Step back!" she cried. There were five Templars, all of whom came nearer.

"What magic is this!" cried the second Templar as he attempted to step closer and drew his sword. The circle was almost upon Benny's feet now. He screamed in horror as the flames began to lick at his shoes.

"NO!" Alyssa cried, and with a shout, she threw both her arms in the air and ice crystals erupted all around her, covering the entire library. Alyssa looked around to see that the flames around Benny had stopped, and he stood safe amidst the ice. "Are you alright, Benny?" she said as she rushed over to him. He threw his arms around her and sobbed. "I didn't mean to, Miss Alyssa!" he said. She hugged him back and glanced over her shoulder. The five Templars sheathed their swords and approached.

"Come with us, child." Said one as he pulled Benny away from Alyssa.

"No!" cried Alyssa. "He's only a boy, he didn't know what he was doing!"

"He is old enough to cast such a spell." Said a voice. At that moment, another group of Templars entered, lead by a man with long flowing grey hair and a silver beard. "And you, Alyssa..."

The other Templars all knelt at the sight of the man. "Knight Commander Markus" they said, almost in reverence.

Alyssa stood up. "I was trying to help! I stopped the fires!"

"Yes," said Knight Commander Markus sternly. "And in doing so froze half of the library solid. You have prevented one disaster and caused another. There will be diseplinary actions for you both."

"Uncle..." Alyssa said softly. Markus merely glared at her, then turned and left. The other Templars followed, escorting Benny with them. One Templar came over to Alyssa and gently grabbed her arm to lead her out too.

"I'm sorry, Alyssa." she said quietly.

"Amanda, you must know I was trying to help!" Alyssa pleaded.

"I know, sister." Amanda replied. "I'm sorry. This is a difficult day for us all, I'm afraid."

Alyssa turned to look her sister in the eyes. "Why? What's wrong?"

Evelyn woke slowly to the sounds of bird song. Her window had once again blown open in the late autumn breeze. She rubbed her eyes and stretched in her bed. "This seems familiar", she thought. With a groan, she threw the blankets off her and got up. Her bedroom was spacious, and everything was clean and organized. She groaned again as she realized she had slept in past noon once again. Evelyn crossed over to a shelf and picked up two clean fluffy towels.

Down the hall from her bedroom was a washroom. It had a large, luxurious tub and shelves full of fancy soaps and brushes. Evelyn took a piece of soap - a small, well-used bar that smelled like lilacs - and lit a small fire in the fireplace. She then undressed and stepped into the tub. The water was cool, but refreshing. She had drawn the water from the well to the tub the night before, to avoid the water being freezing cold if she had drawn it from the well in the morning. Slowly she sat down in the tub. For as big as it was, her legs were still too long for it and her feet dangled over the edge, warming her toes by the fire. As she tilted her head back, she caught a glance of herself in a mirror. With one hand, she brushed her auburn hair out of her face. A lot had changed in the year she had lived with the Trevelyans.

A year had gone by since that day at the tourney. More than a year, in fact. Holli Trevelyan had proven to be a good student, but there had been a lot of work that needed to be done. She was in no fit state to fight when they started, and the first several months of training mostly revolved around building up her strength and flexibility. It wasn't long before Holli began to practice swordplay. Evelyn wouldn't let her use an actual sword until she was sure she wouldn't accidentally hit her. It still happened, of course, but neither of them had been seriously injured yet, and when it happened they would just laugh it off. Surprisingly, Evelyn thought, Holli was okay for a human. Even her brother Stephen warmed up to her eventually. Evelyn didn't know too much about the rest of the family. All she knew for certain was that Holli and Stephen had two older siblings, and a lot of cousins. She had never stepped foot inside the actual estate. Even so, Evelyn had gotten to know several of the servants. Most of them resented her because she got to live in a cottage while they lived in the servant's quarters. Evelyn felt awkward about it, and usually tried to avoid them. She did become friends with the gardener servant, another elf named Bhani. Bhani even helped tend to her own cottage garden, and every so often Evelyn would play cards with her and her husband.

After a good long time, Evelyn finally stood up and dried herself off. She put her smallclothes back on, but paused as she picked up her trousers. "I've worn these pants and this tunic for the past two days... I should probably wear something different." she thought to herself. She had another set of clothing back in her room she could wear for the day. With a sigh, she folded her clothes neatly and set them on a shelf before leaving the washroom.

Evelyn entered the hall and as she was about to enter the bedroom, she suddenly screamed. There was a woman wearing a long coat standing in her sitting room. Her scream startled the woman too, who also screamed and backed up into one of the tables and nearly fell over. Evelyn let out a sigh of frustration. It was just Holli.

"Maker's balls, Holli! Don't scare me like that!" Evelyn shouted, attempting to cover her body.

Holli steadied herself and stood up straight. "I'm sorry!" she said, brushing some dust off her coat. "I just wanted to surprise you."

"I'm not even dressed..." Evelyn mumbled, embarrassed.

"If it's any consolation, you look well." said Holli.

"Been waiting to see me in my smallclothes, have you?" Evelyn snorted. Holli merely shrugged and they both burst out laughing. Holli reached out and hugged Evelyn.

"I've missed you, Ev." she said.

"I've missed you too,” replied Evelyn. "How was your trip to Antiva?"

"Very good." said Holli. "I got to see all the exotic locations and ancient buildings... But I have something I bought there that I wish to show you."

"Oh? What's that?" asked Evelyn, her interest peaked.

Holli took a step back and untied the belt around her long coat. "This!" she said as she threw the coat off to reveal that she was wearing a set of leather armor. Evelyn looked her up and down in confusion. There really wasn't much to this armor. Holli was basically only wearing armored shoulder pads, a leather breastplate that only covered the breast, and reinforced short trousers. Her arms, midriff, and lower legs were completely exposed.

After an awkward pause, Evelyn cleared her throat. "What is this?" she asked, trying her best not to speak what was actually going through her head.

"It's Antivan speed armor!" Holli replied as she put her hands on her hips confidently. It was obvious that she was pleased with herself.

"And..." Evelyn began but she couldn't force herself to stay silent anymore. "Holli, what is this supposed to be?"

"Don't you see? I can be flexible in this armor! Look!"

She picked up a nearby fire poker and began swinging it around like a sword. Evelyn watched her. To be fair, she was actually moving with the proper stances like Evelyn had taught her, but she had much to learn. Holli ended her little show by pointing the fire poker at Evelyn.

"Holli..." said Evelyn as she took the fire poker from her. "Holli, you're my friend and I'm going to be completely honest with you. That's not armor."

"Yes it is." said Holli defensively.

"Is it?" said Evelyn. She turned the fire poker around and poked Holli in the midriff, then again in her arm and then her leg. "You're exposing way too many weak points."

"I can still move quickly in this armor! My movement isn't restricted!" she said defensively.

"You're doing it again," said Evelyn, shaking her head. "You're focusing on one part of the point and not learning the full lesson. Yes, you can move quickly, but at the cost of defense. You need to find a balance, not go from one extreme to the other. Right now, you're wearing as much armor as I am."

Holli snorted. "At least my breastplate is made of reinforced leather, I doubt your brassier is."

"That's not the point." laughed Evelyn. At that moment, the door opened and Stephen entered.

"Holli, I was told you-" he began, but stopped short at the sight of Holli in her skimpy armor and Evelyn in her underwear. Evelyn once again shouted in surprise and attempted to cover herself. Holli, meanwhile, was unphased. "Maker's breath..." Stephen mumbled in confusion.

"You were told what, Stephen?" Holli asked, hands once again on her hips.

"I was... I was told you were here,” he said, looking up at the ceiling so as to avoid eye contact with either of them. "I was sent to fetch you. Mother wishes to speak with us both about something important. You should perhaps change your clothes first. Or put on clothes..."

Holli picked her coat back up and threw it over her shoulders. "Come on, brother." she said with an annoyed tone. "You've seen me at my worst." She clapped him on the shoulder as she made her way to the door.

Evelyn shuddered. "I really do not want to know."

"No! It's not like that!" cried Stephen, flustered. Holli laughed

"Ev, I'll talk to you later." she called over her shoulder as she left. Stephen remained a second longer.

"One time she was shitfaced drunk and I had to help bathe her... Long story."

"Wasn't asking" said Evelyn firmly, wincing at the thought.

"Good. I try never to think of that. She labors under the impression that it was funny." he replied. "Well... anyway... Good day, Evelyn."

Evelyn smiled and nodded, then backed away into her bedroom and closed the door. Stephen shook his head. "This is... not how I thought this day would go,” he muttered to himself.

Back in her room, Evelyn quickly threw on some clean clothes. "That sure was awkward..." she thought to herself. She looked at herself in the mirror again as she buttoned up her clean tunic. She wondered what was happening with Stephen and Holli.

Stephen and Holli entered the Trevelyan Estate and made their way up the stairs to Holli's quarters.

"You still haven't told me what this is about, Stephen." Holli said as she stepped behind a panel to change her clothing.

"It... It will probably be easier for Mother to tell you than I." said Stephen evasively. "I haven't heard the whole thing myself."

Holli stepped out from behind the panel to look at him. She had taken off her armor and was now only wearing her smallclothes. "It's not about the Winter Ball again, is it?" she asked.

Stephen glanced over, but immediately turned back away. "Maker's breath, Holli! Have you no shame?!" he shouted in frustration. She chuckled and stepped back behind the panel.

"You need to lighten up, Stephen." She said as she got dressed. "You're an adult now, you can't keep playing the baby brother card. Whatever it is that mother wants to talk about, I doubt it's anything too important."

"It's about father." said Stephen shortly. Holli stepped out from behind the panel again, dressed this time, and with a serious expression on her face.

"What about father? Is everything okay?"

Prologue - Next Chapter

#Dragon Age Retribution #My Writing #Evelyn Lavellan #Holli Trevelyan #Stephen Trevelyan #Alyssa Trevelyan #Amanda Trevelyan #My OCs #Dragon Age

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Catelyn

My lady, you should have sent word of your coming," Ser Donnel Waynwood told her as their horses climbed the pass. "We would have sent an escort. The high road is not as safe as it once was, for a party as small as yours." "We learned that to our sorrow, Ser Donnel," Catelyn said. Sometimes she felt as though her heart had turned to stone; six brave men had died to bring her this far, and she could not even find it in her to weep for them. Even their names were fading. "The clansmen harried us day and night. We lost three men in the first attack, and two more in the second, and Lannister's serving man died of a fever when his wounds festered. When we heard your men approaching, I thought us doomed for certain." They had drawn up for a last desperate fight, blades in hand and backs to the rock. The dwarf had been whetting the edge of his axe and making some mordant jest when Bronn spotted the banner the riders carried before them, the moon-and-falcon of House Arryn, sky-blue and white. Catelyn had never seen a more welcome sight. "The clans have grown bolder since Lord Jon died," Ser Donnel said. He was a stocky youth of twenty years, earnest and homely, with a wide nose and a shock of thick brown hair. "If it were up to me, I would take a hundred men into the mountains, root them out of their fastnesses, and teach them some sharp lessons, but your sister has forbidden it. She would not even permit her knights to fight in the Hand's tourney. She wants all our swords kept close to home, to defend the Vale . . . against what, no one is certain. Shadows, some say." He looked at her anxiously, as if he had suddenly remembered who she was. "I hope I have not spoken out of turn, my lady. I meant no offense." "Frank talk does not offend me, Ser Donnel." Catelyn knew what her sister feared. Not shadows, Lannisters, she thought to herself, glancing back to where the dwarf rode beside Bronn. The two of them had grown thick as thieves since Chiggen had died. The little man was more cunning than she liked. When they had entered the mountains, he had been her captive, bound and helpless. What was he now? Her captive still, yet he rode along with a dirk through his belt and an axe strapped to his saddle, wearing the shadowskin cloak he'd won dicing with the singer and the chainmail hauberk he'd taken off Chiggen's corpse. Two score men flanked the dwarf and the rest of her ragged band, knights and men-at-arms in service to her sister Lysa and Jon Arryn's young son, and yet Tyrion betrayed no hint of fear. Could I be wrong? Catelyn wondered, not for the first time. Could he be innocent after all, of Bran and Jon Arryn and all the rest? And if he was, what did that make her? Six men had died to bring him here. Resolute, she pushed her doubts away. "When we reach your keep, I would take it kindly if you could send for Maester Colemon at once. Ser Rodrik is feverish from his wounds." More than once she had feared the gallant old knight would not survive the journey. Toward the end he could scarcely sit his horse, and Bronn had urged her to leave him to his fate, but Catelyn would not hear of it. They had tied him in the saddle instead, and she had commanded Marillion the singer to watch over him. Ser Donnel hesitated before he answered. "The Lady Lysa has commanded the maester to remain at the Eyrie at all times, to care for Lord Robert," he said. "We have a septon at the gate who tends to our wounded. He can see to your man's hurts." Catelyn had more faith in a maester's learning than a septon's prayers. She was about to say as much when she saw the battlements ahead, long parapets built into the very stone of the mountains on either side of them. Where the pass shrank to a narrow defile scarce wide enough for four men to ride abreast, twin watchtowers clung to the rocky slopes, joined by a covered bridge of weathered grey stone that arched above the road. Silent faces watched from arrow slits in tower, battlements, and bridge. When they had climbed almost to the top, a knight rode out to meet them. His horse and his armor were grey, but his cloak was the rippling blue-and-red of Riverrun, and a shiny black fish, wrought in gold and obsidian, pinned its folds against his shoulder. "Who would pass the Bloody Gate?" he called. "Ser Donnel Waynwood, with the Lady Catelyn Stark and her companions," the young knight answered. The Knight of the Gate lifted his visor. "I thought the lady looked familiar. You are far from home, little Cat." "And you, Uncle," she said, smiling despite all she had been through. Hearing that hoarse, smoky voice again took her back twenty years, to the days of her childhood. "My home is at my back," he said gruffly. "Your home is in my heart," Catelyn told him. "Take off your helm. I would look on your face again." "The years have not improved it, I fear," Brynden Tully said, but when he lifted off the helm, Catelyn saw that he lied. His features were lined and weathered, and time had stolen the auburn from his hair and left him only grey, but the smile was the same, and the bushy eyebrows fat as caterpillars, and the laughter in his deep blue eyes. "Did Lysa know you were coming?" "There was no time to send word ahead," Catelyn told him. The others were coming up behind her. "I fear we ride before the storm, Uncle." "May we enter the Vale?" Ser Donnel asked. The Waynwoods were ever ones for ceremony. "In the name of Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale, True Warden of the East, I bid you enter freely, and charge you to keep his peace," Ser Brynden replied. "Come." And so she rode behind him, beneath the shadow of the Bloody Gate where a dozen armies had dashed themselves to pieces in the Age of Heroes. On the far side of the stoneworks, the mountains opened up suddenly upon a vista of green fields, blue sky, and snowcapped mountains that took her breath away. The Vale of Arryn bathed in the morning light. It stretched before them to the misty cast, a tranquil land of rich black soil, wide slow-moving rivers, and hundreds of small lakes that shone like mirrors in the sun, protected on all sides by its sheltering peaks. Wheat and corn and barley grew high in its fields, and even in Highgarden the pumpkins were no larger nor the fruit any sweeter than here. They stood at the western end of the valley, where the high road crested the last pass and began its winding descent to the bottomlands two miles below. The Vale was narrow here, no more than a half day's ride across, and the northern mountains seemed so close that Catelyn could almost reach out and touch them. Looming over them all was the jagged peak called the Giant's Lance, a mountain that even mountains looked up to, its head lost in icy mists three and a half miles above the valley floor. Over its massive western shoulder flowed the ghost torrent of Alyssa's Tears. Even from this distance, Catelyn could make out the shining silver thread, bright against the dark stone. When her uncle saw that she had stopped, he moved his horse closer and pointed. "It's there, beside Alyssa's Tears. All you can see from here is a flash of white every now and then, if you look hard and the sun hits the walls just right." Seven towers, Ned had told her, like white daggers thrust into the belly of the sky, so high you can stand on the parapets and look down on the clouds. "How long a ride?" she asked. "We can be at the mountain by evenfall," Uncle Brynden said, "but the climb will take another day." Ser Rodrik Cassel spoke up from behind. "My lady," he said, "I fear I can go no farther today." His face sagged beneath his ragged, newgrown whiskers, and he looked so weary Catelyn feared he might fall off his horse. "Nor should you," she said. "You have done all I could have asked of you, and a hundred times more. My uncle will see me the rest of the way to the Eyrie. Lannister must come with me, but there is no reason that you and the others should not rest here and recover your strength." "We should be honored to have them to guest," Ser Donnel said with the grave courtesy of the young. Beside Ser Rodrik, only Bronn, Ser Willis Wode, and Marillion the singer remained of the party that had ridden with her from the inn by the crossroads. "My lady," Marillion said, riding forward. "I beg you allow me to accompany you to the Eyrie, to see the end of the tale as I saw its beginnings." The boy sounded haggard, yet strangely determined; he had a fevered shine to his eyes. Catelyn had never asked the singer to ride with them; that choice he had made himself, and how he had come to survive the journey when so many braver men lay dead and unburied behind them, she could never say. Yet here he was, with a scruff of beard that made him look almost a man. Perhaps she owed him something for having come this far. "Very well," she told him. "I'll come as well," Bronn announced. She liked that less well. Without Bronn she would never have reached the Vale, she knew; the sellsword was as fierce a fighter as she had ever seen, and his sword had helped cut them through to safety. Yet for all that, Catelyn misliked the man. Courage he had, and strength, but there was no kindness in him, and little loyalty. And she had seen him riding beside Lannister far too often, talking in low voices and laughing at some private joke. She would have preferred to separate him from the dwarf here and now, but having agreed that Marillion might continue to the Eyrie, she could see no gracious way to deny that same right to Bronn. "As you wish," she said, although she noted that he had not actually asked her permission. Ser Willis Wode remained with Ser Rodrik, a soft-spoken septon fussing over their wounds. Their horses were left behind as well, poor ragged things. Ser Donnel promised to send birds ahead to the Eyrie and the Gates of the Moon with the word of their coming. Fresh mounts were brought forth from the stables, surefooted mountain stock with shaggy coats, and within the hour they set forth once again. Catelyn rode beside her uncle as they began the descent to the valley floor. Behind came Bronn, Tyrion Lannister, Marillion, and six of Brynden's men. Not until they were a third of the way down the mountain path, well out of earshot of the others, did Brynden Tully turn to her and say, "So, child. Tell me about this storm of yours." "I have not been a child in many years, Uncle," Catelyn said, but she told him nonetheless. It took longer than she would have believed to tell it all, Lysa's letter and Bran's fall, the assassin's dagger and Littlefinger and her chance meeting with Tyrion Lannister in the crossroads inn. Her uncle listened silently, heavy brows shadowing his eyes as his frown grew deeper. Brynden Tully had always known how to listen . . . to anyone but her father. He was Lord Hoster's brother, younger by five years, but the two of them had been at war as far back as Catelyn could remember. During one of their louder quarrels, when Catelyn was eight, Lord Hoster had called Brynden "the black goat of the Tully flock." Laughing, Brynden had pointed out that the sigil of their house was a leaping trout, so he ought to be a black fish rather than a black goat, and from that day forward he had taken it as his personal emblem. The war had not ended until the day she and Lysa had been wed. It was at their wedding feast that Brynden told his brother he was leaving Riverrun to serve Lysa and her new husband, the Lord of the Eyrie. Lord Hoster had not spoken his brother's name since, from what Edmure told her in his infrequent letters. Nonetheless, during all those years of Catelyn's girlhood, it had been Brynden the Blackfish to whom Lord Hoster's children had run with their tears and their tales, when Father was too busy and Mother too ill. Catelyn, Lysa, Edmure . . . and yes, even Petyr Baelish, their father's ward . . . he had listened to them all patiently, as he listened now, laughing at their triumphs and sympathizing with their childish misfortunes. When she was done, her uncle remained silent for a long time, as his horse negotiated the steep, rocky trail. "Your father must be told," he said at last. "If the Lannisters should march, Winterfell is remote and the Vale walled up behind its mountains, but Riverrun lies right in their path." "I'd had the same fear," Catelyn admitted. "I shall ask Maester Colemon to send a bird when we reach the Eyrie." She had other messages to send as well; the commands that Ned had given her for his bannermen, to ready the defenses of the north. "What is the mood in the Vale?" she asked. "Angry," Brynden Tully admitted. "Lord Jon was much loved, and the insult was keenly felt when the king named Jaime Lannister to an office the Arryns had held for near three hundred years. Lysa has commanded us to call her son the True Warden of the East, but no one is fooled. Nor is your sister alone in wondering at the manner of the Hand's death. None dare say Jon was murdered, not openly, but suspicion casts a long shadow." He gave Catelyn a look, his mouth tight. "And there is the boy." "The boy? What of him?" She ducked her head as they passed under a low overhang of rock, and around a sharp turn. Her uncle's voice was troubled. "Lord Robert," he sighed. "Six years old, sickly, and prone to weep if you take his dolls away. Jon Arryn's trueborn heir, by all the gods, yet there are some who say he is too weak to sit his father's seat, Nestor Royce has been high steward these past fourteen years, while Lord Jon served in King's Landing, and many whisper that he should rule until the boy comes of age. Others believe that Lysa must marry again, and soon. Already the suitors gather like crows on a battlefield. The Eyrie is full of them." "I might have expected that," Catelyn said. Small wonder there; Lysa was still young, and the kingdom of Mountain and Vale made a handsome wedding gift. "Will Lysa take another husband?" "She says yes, provided she finds a man who suits her," Brynden Tully said, "but she has already rejected Lord Nestor and a dozen other suitable men. She swears that this time she will choose her lord husband." "You of all people can scarce fault her for that." Ser Brynden snorted. "Nor do I, but . . . it seems to me Lysa is only playing at courtship. She enjoys the sport, but I believe your sister intends to rule herself until her boy is old enough to be Lord of the Eyrie in truth as well as name." "A woman can rule as wisely as a man," Catelyn said. "The right woman can," her uncle said with a sideways glance. "Make no mistake, Cat. Lysa is not you." He hesitated a moment. "If truth be told, I fear you may not find your sister as helpful as you would like." She was puzzled. "What do you mean?" "The Lysa who came back from King's Landing is not the same girl who went south when her husband was named Hand. Those years were hard for her. You must know. Lord Arryn was a dutiful husband, but their marriage was made from politics, not passion." "As was my own." "They began the same, but your ending has been happier than your sister's. Two babes stillborn, twice as many miscarriages, Lord Arryn's death . . . Catelyn, the gods gave Lysa only the one child, and he is all your sister lives for now, poor boy. Small wonder she fled rather than see him handed over to the Lannisters. Your sister is afraid, child, and the Lannisters are what she fears most. She ran to the Vale, stealing away from the Red Keep like a thief in the night, and all to snatch her son out of the lion's mouth . . . and now you have brought the lion to her door." "In chains," Catelyn said. A crevasse yawned on her right, falling away into darkness. She reined up her horse and picked her way along step by careful step. "Oh?" Her uncle glanced back, to where Tyrion Lannister was making his slow descent behind them. "I see an axe on his saddle, a dirk at his belt, and a sellsword that trails after him like a hungry shadow. Where are the chains, sweet one?" Catelyn shifted uneasily in her seat. "The dwarf is here, and not by choice. Chains or no, he is my prisoner. Lysa will want him to answer for his crimes no less than I. It was her own lord husband the Lannisters murdered, and her own letter that first warned us against them." Brynden Blackfish gave her a weary smile. "I hope you are right, child," he sighed, in tones that said she was wrong. The sun was well to the west by the time the slope began to flatten beneath the hooves of their horses. The road widened and grew straight, and for the first time Catelyn noticed wildflowers and grasses growing. Once they reached the valley floor, the going was faster and they made good time, cantering through verdant greenwoods and sleepy little hamlets, past orchards and golden wheat fields, splashing across a dozen sunlit streams. Her uncle sent a standard-bearer ahead of them, a double banner flying from his staff; the moon-and-falcon of House Arryn on high, and below it his own black fish. Farm wagons and merchants' carts and riders from lesser houses moved aside to let them pass. Even so, it was full dark before they reached the stout castle that stood at the foot of the Giant's Lance. Torches flickered atop its ramparts, and the horned moon danced upon the dark waters of its moat. The drawbridge was up and the portcullis down, but Catelyn saw lights burning in the gatehouse and spilling from the windows of the square towers beyond. "The Gates of the Moon," her uncle said as the party drew rein. His standard-bearer rode to the edge of the moat to hail the men in the gatehouse. "Lord Nestor's seat. He should be expecting us. Look up." Catelyn raised her eyes, up and up and up. At first all she saw was stone and trees, the looming mass of the great mountain shrouded in night, as black as a starless sky. Then she noticed the glow of distant fires well above them; a tower keep, built upon the steep side of the mountain, its lights like orange eyes staring down from above. Above that was another, higher and more distant, and still higher a third, no more than a flickering spark in the sky. And finally, up where the falcons soared, a flash of white in the moonlight. Vertigo washed over her as she stared upward at the pale towers, so far above. "The Eyrie," she heard Marillion murmur, awed. The sharp voice of Tyrion Lannister broke in. "The Arryns must not be overfond of company. If you're planning to make us climb that mountain in the dark, I'd rather you kill me here." "We'll spend the night here and make the ascent on the morrow," Brynden told him. "I can scarcely wait," the dwarf replied. "How do we get up there? I've no experience at riding goats." "Mules," Brynden said, smiling. "There are steps carved into the mountain," Catelyn said. Ned had told her about them when he talked of his youth here with Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn. Her uncle nodded. "It is too dark to see them, but the steps are there. Too steep and narrow for horses, but mules can manage them most of the way. The path is guarded by three waycastles, Stone and Snow and Sky. The mules will take us as far up as Sky." Tyrion Lannister glanced up doubtfully. "And beyond that?" Brynden smiled. "Beyond that, the path is too steep even for mules. We ascend on foot the rest of the way. Or perchance you'd prefer to ride a basket. The Eyrie clings to the mountain directly above Sky, and in its cellars are six great winches with long iron chains to draw supplies up from below. If you prefer, my lord of Lannister, I can arrange for you to ride up with the bread and beer and apples." The dwarf gave a bark of laughter. "Would that I were a pumpkin," he said. "Alas, my lord father would no doubt be most chagrined if his son of Lannister went to his fate like a load of turnips. If you ascend on foot, I fear I must do the same. We Lannisters do have a certain pride." "Pride?" Catelyn snapped. His mocking tone and easy manner made her angry. "Arrogance, some might call it. Arrogance and avarice and lust for power." "My brother is undoubtedly arrogant," Tyrion Lannister replied. "My father is the soul of avarice, and my sweet sister Cersei lusts for power with every waking breath. I, however, am innocent as a little lamb. Shall I bleat for you?" He grinned. The drawbridge came creaking down before she could reply, and they heard the sound of oiled chains as the portcullis was drawn up. Men-at-arms carried burning brands out to light their way, and her uncle led them across the moat. Lord Nestor Royce, High Steward of the Vale and Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, was waiting in the yard to greet them, surrounded by his knights. "Lady Stark," he said, bowing. He was a massive, barrel-chested man, and his bow was clumsy. Catelyn dismounted to stand before him. "Lord Nestor," she said. She knew the man only by reputation; Bronze Yohn's cousin, from a lesser branch of House Royce, yet still a formidable lord in his own right. "We have had a long and tiring journey. I would beg the hospitality of your roof tonight, if I might." "My roof is yours, my lady," Lord Nestor returned gruffly, "but your sister the Lady Lysa has sent down word from the Eyrie. She wishes to see you at once. The rest of your party will be housed here and sent up at first light." Her uncle swung off his horse. "What madness is this?" he said bluntly. Brynden Tully had never been a man to blunt the edge of his words. "A night ascent, with the moon not even full? Even Lysa should know that's an invitation to a broken neck." "The mules know the way, Ser Brynden." A wiry girl of seventeen or eighteen years stepped up beside Lord Nestor. Her dark hair was cropped short and straight around her head, and she wore riding leathers and a light shirt of silvered ringmail. She bowed to Catelyn, more gracefully than her lord. "I promise you, my lady, no harm will come to you. It would be my honor to take you up. I've made the dark climb a hundred times. Mychel says my father must have been a goat." She sounded so cocky that Catelyn had to smile. "Do you have a name, child?" "Mya Stone, if it please you, my lady," the girl said. It did not please her; it was an effort for Catelyn to keep the smile on her face. Stone was a bastard's name in the Vale, as Snow was in the north, and Flowers in Highgarden; in each of the Seven Kingdoms, custom had fashioned a surname for children born with no names of their own. Catelyn had nothing against this girl, but suddenly she could not help but think of Ned's bastard on the Wall, and the thought made her angry and guilty, both at once. She struggled to find words for a reply. Lord Nestor filled the silence. "Mya's a clever girl, and if she vows she will bring you safely to the Lady Lysa, I believe her. She has not failed me yet." "Then I put myself in your hands, Mya Stone," Catelyn said. "Lord Nestor, I charge you to keep a close guard on my prisoner." "And I charge you to bring the prisoner a cup of wine and a nicely crisped capon, before he dies of hunger," Lannister said. "A girl would be pleasant as well, but I suppose that's too much to ask of you." The sellsword Bronn laughed aloud. Lord Nestor ignored the banter. "As you say, my lady, so it will be done." Only then did he look at the dwarf. "See our lord of Lannister to a tower cell, and bring him meat and mead." Catelyn took her leave of her uncle and the others as Tyrion Lannister was led off, then followed the bastard girl through the castle. Two mules were waiting in the upper bailey, saddled and ready. Mya helped her mount one while a guardsman in a sky-blue cloak opened the narrow postern gate. Beyond was dense forest of pine and spruce, and the mountain like a black wall, but the steps were there, chiseled deep into the rock, ascending into the sky. "Some people find it easier if they close their eyes," Mya said as she led the mules through the gate into the dark wood. "When they get frightened or dizzy, sometimes they hold on to the mule too tight. They don't like that." "I was born a Tully and wed to a Stark," Catelyn said. "I do not frighten easily. Do you plan to light a torch?" The steps were black as pitch. The girl made a face. "Torches just blind you. On a clear night like this, the moon and the stars are enough. Mychel says I have the eyes of the owl." She mounted and urged her mule up the first step. Catelyn's animal followed of its own accord. "You mentioned Mychel before," Catelyn said. The mules set the pace, slow but steady. She was perfectly content with that. "Mychel's my love," Mya explained. "Mychel Redfort. He's squire to Ser Lyn Corbray. We're to wed as soon as he becomes a knight, next year or the year after." She sounded so like Sansa, so happy and innocent with her dreams. Catelyn smiled, but the smile was tinged with sadness. The Redforts were an old name in the Vale, she knew, with the blood of the First Men in their veins. His love she might be, but no Redfort would ever wed a bastard. His family would arrange a more suitable match for him, to a Corbray or a Waynwood or a Royce, or perhaps a daughter of some greater house outside the Vale. If Mychel Redfort laid with this girl at all, it would be on the wrong side of the sheet. The ascent was easier than Catelyn had dared hope. The trees pressed close, leaning over the path to make a rustling green roof that shut out even the moon, so it seemed as though they were moving up a long black tunnel. But the mules were surefooted and tireless, and Mya Stone did indeed seem blessed with night-eyes. They plodded upward, winding their way back and forth across the face of the mountain as the steps twisted and turned. A thick layer of fallen needles carpeted the path, so the shoes of their mules made only the softest sound on the rock. The quiet soothed her, and the gentle rocking motion set Catelyn to swaying in her saddle. Before long she was fighting sleep. Perhaps she did doze for a moment, for suddenly a massive ironbound gate was looming before them. "Stone," Mya announced cheerily, dismounting. Iron spikes were set along the tops of formidable stone walls, and two fat round towers overtopped the keep. The gate swung open at Mya's shout. Inside, the portly knight who commanded the waycastle greeted Mya by name and offered them skewers of charred meat and onions still hot from the spit. Catelyn had not realized how hungry she was. She ate standing in the yard, as stablehands moved their saddles to fresh mules. The hot juices ran down her chin and dripped onto her cloak, but she was too famished to care. Then it was up onto a new mule and out again into the starlight. The second part of the ascent seemed more treacherous to Catelyn. The trail was steeper, the steps more worn, and here and there littered with pebbles and broken stone. Mya had to dismount a half-dozen times to move fallen rocks from their path. "You don't want your mule to break a leg up here," she said. Catelyn was forced to agree. She could feel the altitude more now. The trees were sparser up here, and the wind blew more vigorously, sharp gusts that tugged at her clothing and pushed her hair into her eyes. From time to time the steps doubled back on themselves, and she could see Stone below them, and the Gates of the Moon farther down, its torches no brighter than candles. Snow was smaller than Stone, a single fortified tower and a timber keep and stable hidden behind a low wall of unmortared rock. Yet it nestled against the Giant's Lance in such a way as to command the entire stone stair above the lower waycastle. An enemy intent on the Eyrie would have to fight his way from Stone step by step, while rocks and arrows rained down from Snow above. The commander, an anxious young knight with a pockmarked face, offered bread and cheese and the chance to warm themselves before his fire, but Mya declined. "We ought to keep going, my lady," she said. "If it please you." Catelyn nodded. Again they were given fresh mules. Hers was white. Mya smiled when she saw him. "Whitey's a good one, my lady. Sure of foot, even on ice, but you need to be careful. He'll kick if he doesn't like you." The white mule seemed to like Catelyn; there was no kicking, thank the gods. There was no ice either, and she was grateful for that as well. "My mother says that hundreds of years ago, this was where the snow began," Mya told her. "It was always white above here, and the ice never melted." She shrugged. "I can't remember ever seeing snow this far down the mountain, but maybe it was that way once, in the olden times." So young, Catelyn thought, trying to remember if she had ever been like that. The girl had lived half her life in summer, and that was all she knew. Winter is coming, child, she wanted to tell her. The words were on her lips; she almost said them. Perhaps she was becoming a Stark at last. Above Snow, the wind was a living thing, howling around them like a wolf in the waste, then falling off to nothing as if to lure them into complacency. The stars seemed brighter up here, so close that she could almost touch them, and the horned moon was huge in the clear black sky. As they climbed, Catelyn found it was better to look up than down. The steps were cracked and broken from centuries of freeze and thaw and the tread of countless mules, and even in the dark the heights put her heart in her throat. When they came to a high saddle between two spires of rock, Mya dismounted. "It's best to lead the mules over," she said. "The wind can be a little scary here, my lady." Catelyn climbed stiffly from the shadows and looked at the path ahead; twenty feet long and close to three feet wide, but with a precipitous drop to either side. She could hear the wind shrieking. Mya stepped lightly out, her mule following as calmly as if they were crossing a bailey. It was her turn. Yet no sooner had she taken her first step than fear caught Catelyn in its jaws. She could feel the emptiness, the vast black gulfs of air that yawned around her. She stopped, trembling, afraid to move. The wind screamed at her and wrenched at her cloak, trying to pull her over the edge. Catelyn edged her foot backward, the most timid of steps, but the mule was behind her, and she could not retreat. I am going to die here, she thought. She could feel cold sweat trickling down her back. "Lady Stark," Mya called across the gulf. The girl sounded a thousand leagues away. "Are you well?" Catelyn Tully Stark swallowed what remained of her pride. "I . . . I cannot do this, child," she called out. "Yes you can," the bastard girl said. "I know you can. Look how wide the path is." "I don't want to look." The world seemed to be spinning around her, mountain and sky and mules, whirling like a child's top. Catelyn closed her eyes to steady her ragged breathing. "I'll come back for you," Mya said. "Don't move, my lady." Moving was about the last thing Catelyn was about to do. She listened to the skirling of the wind and the scuffling sound of leather on stone. Then Mya was there, taking her gently by the arm. "Keep your eyes closed if you like. Let go of the rope now, Whitey will take care of himself. Very good, my lady. I'll lead you over, it's easy, you'll see. Give me a step now. That's it, move your foot, just slide it forward. See. Now another. Easy. You could run across. Another one, go on. Yes." And so, foot by foot, step by step, the bastard girl led Catelyn across, blind and trembling, while the white mule followed placidly behind them. The waycastle called Sky was no more than a high, crescent-shaped wall of unmortared stone raised against the side of the mountain, but even the topless towers of Valyria could not have looked more beautiful to Catelyn Stark. Here at last the snow crown began; Sky's weathered stones were rimed with frost, and long spears of ice hung from the slopes above. Dawn was breaking in the east as Mya Stone hallooed for the guards, and the gates opened before them. Inside the walls there was only a series of ramps and a great tumble of boulders and stones of all sizes. No doubt it would be the easiest thing in the world to begin an avalanche from here. A mouth yawned in the rock face in front of them. "The stables and barracks are in there," Mya said. "The last part is inside the mountain. It can be a little dark, but at least you're out of the wind. This is as far as the mules can go. Past here, well, it's a sort of chimney, more like a stone ladder than proper steps, but it's not too bad. Another hour and we'll be there." Catelyn looked up. Directly overhead, pale in the dawn light, she could see the foundations of the Eyrie. It could not be more than six hundred feet above them. From below it looked like a small white honeycomb. She remembered what her uncle had said of baskets and winches. "The Lannisters may have their pride," she told Mya, "but the Tullys are born with better sense. I have ridden all day and the best part of a night. Tell them to lower a basket. I shall ride with the turnips." The sun was well above the mountains by the time Catelyn Stark finally reached the Eyrie. A stocky, silver-haired man in a sky-blue cloak and hammered moon-and-falcon breastplate helped her from the basket; Ser Vardis Egen, captain of Jon Arryn's household guard. Beside him stood Maester Colemon, thin and nervous, with too little hair and too much neck. "Lady Stark," Ser Vardis said, "the pleasure is as great as it is unanticipated." Maester Colemon bobbed his head in agreement. "Indeed it is, my lady, indeed it is. I have sent word to your sister. She left orders to be awakened the instant you arrived." "I hope she had a good night's rest," Catelyn said with a certain bite in her tone that seemed to go unnoticed. The men escorted her from the winch room up a spiral stair. The Eyrie was a small castle by the standards of the great houses; seven slender white towers bunched as tightly as arrows in a quiver on a shoulder of the great mountain. It had no need of stables nor smithys nor kennels, but Ned said its granary was as large as Winterfell's, and its towers could house five hundred men. Yet it seemed strangely deserted to Catelyn as she passed through it, its pale stone halls echoing and empty. Lysa was waiting alone in her solar, still clad in her bed robes. Her long auburn hair tumbled unbound across bare white shoulders and down her back. A maid stood behind her, brushing out the night's tangles, but when Catelyn entered, her sister rose to her feet, smiling. "Cat," she said. "Oh, Cat, how good it is to see you. My sweet sister." She ran across the chamber and wrapped her sister in her arms. "How long it has been," Lysa murmured against her. "Oh, how very very long." It had been five years, in truth; five cruel years, for Lysa. They had taken their toll. Her sister was two years the younger, yet she looked older now. Shorter than Catelyn, Lysa had grown thick of body, pale and puffy of face. She had the blue eyes of the Tullys, but hers were pale and watery, never still. Her small mouth had turned petulant. As Catelyn held her, she remembered the slender, high-breasted girl who'd waited beside her that day in the sept at Riverrun. How lovely and full of hope she had been. All that remained of her sister's beauty was the great fall of thick auburn hair that cascaded to her waist. "You look well," Catelyn lied, "but . . . tired." Her sister broke the embrace. "Tired. Yes. Oh, yes." She seemed to notice the others then; her maid, Maester Colemon, Ser Vardis. "Leave us," she told them. "I wish to speak to my sister alone." She held Catelyn's hand as they withdrew . . . . . . and dropped it the instant the door closed. Catelyn saw her face change. It was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" Lysa snapped at her. "To bring him here, without a word of permission, without so much as a warning, to drag us into your quarrels with the Lannisters . . . " "My quarrels?" Catelyn could scarce believe what she was hearing. A great fire burned in the hearth, but there was no trace of warmth in Lysa's voice. "They were your quarrels first, sister. It was you who sent me that cursed letter, you who wrote that the Lannisters had murdered your husband." "To warn you, so you could stay away from them! I never meant to fight them! Gods, Cat, do you know what you've done?" "Mother?" a small voice said. Lysa whirled, her heavy robe swirling around her. Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, stood in the doorway, clutching a ragged cloth doll and looking at them with large eyes. He was a painfully thin child, small for his age and sickly all his days, and from time to time he trembled. The shaking sickness, the maesters called it. "I heard voices." Small wonder, Catelyn thought; Lysa had almost been shouting. Still, her sister looked daggers at her. "This is your aunt Catelyn, baby. My sister, Lady Stark. Do you remember?" The boy glanced at her blankly. "I think so," he said, blinking, though he had been less than a year old the last time Catelyn had seen him. Lysa seated herself near the fire and said, "Come to Mother, my sweet one." She straightened his bedclothes and fussed with his fine brown hair. "Isn't he beautiful? And strong too, don't you believe the things you hear. Jon knew. The seed is strong, he told me. His last words. He kept saying Robert's name, and he grabbed my arm so hard he left marks. Tell them, the seed is strong. His seed. He wanted everyone to know what a good strong boy my baby was going to be." "Lysa," Catelyn said, "if you're right about the Lannisters, all the more reason we must act quickly. We—" "Not in front of the baby," Lysa said. "He has a delicate temper, don't you, sweet one?" "The boy is Lord of the Eyrie and Defender of the Vale," Catelyn reminded her, "and these are no times for delicacy. Ned thinks it may come to war." "Quiet!" Lysa snapped at her. "You're scaring the boy." Little Robert took a quick peek over his shoulder at Catelyn and began to tremble. His doll fell to the rushes, and he pressed himself against his mother. "Don't be afraid, my sweet baby," Lysa whispered. "Mother's here, nothing will hurt you." She opened her robe and drew out a pale, heavy breast, tipped with red. The boy grabbed for it eagerly, buried his face against her chest, and began to suck. Lysa stroked his hair. Catelyn was at a loss for words. Jon Arryn's son, she thought incredulously. She remembered her own baby, three-year-old Rickon, half the age of this boy and five times as fierce. Small wonder the lords of the Vale were restive. For the first time she understood why the king had tried to take the child away from his mother to foster with the Lannisters . . . "We're safe here," Lysa was saying. Whether to her or to the boy, Catelyn was not sure. "Don't be a fool," Catelyn said, the anger rising in her. "No one is safe. If you think hiding here will make the Lannisters forget you, you are sadly mistaken." Lysa covered her boy's ear with her hand. "Even if they could bring an army through the mountains and past the Bloody Gate, the Eyrie is impregnable. You saw for yourself. No enemy could ever reach us up here." Catelyn wanted to slap her. Uncle Brynden had tried to warn her, she realized. "No castle is impregnable." "This one is," Lysa insisted. "Everyone says so. The only thing is, what am I to do with this Imp you have brought me?" "Is he a bad man?" the Lord of the Eyrie asked, his mother's breast popping from his mouth, the nipple wet and red. "A very bad man," Lysa told him as she covered herself, "but Mother won't let him harm my little baby." "Make him fly," Robert said eagerly. Lysa stroked her son's hair. "Perhaps we will," she murmured. "Perhaps that is just what we will do."

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