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The Ironbones - Obsession

----- CAPITOLO 3
Capitolo scritto per il COWT 11 di Landedifandom, settimana 4, missione del Tiro a Segno (M7), utilizzando i seguenti prompt:

1Generale (Lord Ironbone)
2 Ossessione (la guerra per Lord Ironbone)
3 Rabbia ( di Orick)
4 Umore nero (sentimento generale di tutti)

Warning: safe
fandom: originale
genere: fantasy
parole: 1235

"Cosa stai dicendo?!"

Thor era sbiancato alle sue parole. Orick chiuse la porta a chiave prima di continuare.

"Rose vi ha visto insieme. Era in lacrime. Hai qualcosa di cui sentirti colpevole, caro fratello maggiore? Speravo non arrivaste a questo punto, ma vi ho sopravvalutato."

Thor distolse lo sguardo.

"Io non volevo farla soffrire,è stato Cecile che-"

Orick lo interruppe ridendogli in faccia. Il mal di testa si faceva sempre più pressante. Stava per sedersi sul letto del fratello ma ci ripensò, e invece si appoggiò sulla sua scrivania.

"Oh povero Thor, sedotto dal lascivo cugino... non è colpa tua, non avresti mai voluto far soffrire tua sorella scopandoti il suo promesso sposo, e solo che Cecile è un degenerato... è questo quello che vorresti sentirti dire?"

Vide Thor avvampare e annaspare cercando di controbattere. Era fin troppo facile sconvolgerlo con un linguaggio diretto.

Orick continuò a parlare.

"No, Thor. Semplicemente a nessuno dei due importava abbastanza da negarvi quello che volevate."

"Non è solo... non è solo quello che dici tu, se fosse solo una questione fisica non sarebbe mai stato un problema resistere! Noi-"

"Oh. è amore, allora?"

Thor si morse il labbro e non rispose, per cui Orick continuò.

"Oh, allora tutto è giustificato! Cosa volete fare, fuggire insieme e vivere per sempre felici e contenti, senza curarvi della distruzione che lascereste dietro di voi?"

"NO!"

Thor lo guardò finalmente dritto negli occhi.

"Non vi abbandonerei mai, nemmeno per Cecile. è solo che-"

Thor si prese la testa tra le mani e si sedette sul letto.

Orick lo guardò storto ma gli lasciò il tempo per pensare.

Thor respirò profondamente. La sua voce era poco più che un sussurro.

"Odio la guerra, Orick. Pensavo di farcela, pensavo che sarei arrivato al punto in cui massacrare interi villaggi non mi avrebbe più tormentato la notte. Che avrei potuto rispondere sinceramente ‘sto bene’ quando Cecile me lo chiedeva. Pensavo che quello che provavo per lui fosse qualcosa di passeggero. Pensavo che l’avrei potuto mettere da parte e che con il tempo avrebbe realizzato che questa cosa tra di noi non era veramente amore. Pensavo che lui e Rose sarebbero veramente potuti essere felici se io mi fossi messo da parte. Ancora adesso, una parte di me lo pensa. Ma ogni anno è sempre peggio. Io non voglio fare del male a nessuno. Ma non posso sottrarmi a quello che vuole nostro padre"

Orick decise di evitare tutto il discorso su Cecile perché per quanto apprezzasse il momento di onestà di suo fratello, non voleva veramente immaginarselo insieme a Cecile. Non voleva immaginare nessuno dei suoi fratelli o sorelle in certi contesti. Già quel poco che aveva visto lo metteva a disagio. Sapeva che Thor non era davvero così intraprendente come voleva apparire, ma adesso non poteva fare a meno di immaginarselo come una delle verginelle pudiche dei libri che lo annoiavano di più e quell’immagine lo distraeva dai discorsi importanti che voleva davvero fare con lui.

"Il Grande Generale Ironbone ha un interesse personale a far continuare la guerra, gran parte dei suoi privilegi dipendono da essa. Ma la situazione sta degenerando, tanto che i soldi cominciano a scarseggiare e pur di continuare è disposto a vendere la figlia"

"Che cosa?"

"Sì, probabilmente eri troppo occupato con Cecile, ma Clover è stata appena promessa in sposa al Conte Silk. Era quello di cui ti volevo parlare."

"Non mi ha detto nulla in proposito! è disgustoso!"

"Già. Ma il fidanzamento è già stato accettato, l'unico che potrebbe scioglierlo è il capofamiglia, che però non ha nessun interesse a farlo. Clover finirà nelle mani di un vecchio viscido."

"Lei lo sa?"

"Sì, l'ha scoperto stasera. Puoi immaginare quanto sia entusiasta della cosa"

"Per gli dei..."

"Ti rendi conto che molti dei nostri problemi hanno un'unica fonte? Non solo quelli della nostra famiglia, potrei dire quelli del nostro paese e dell'isola Ivonne."

"Io cerco di far ragionare nostro padre, ma nemmeno io riesco a-"

"Oh, è troppo vecchio per andare oltre alle sue idee antiquate, Thor. Sarebbe uno sforzo inutile. Io avevo in mente una soluzione più efficiente. Tu sei nella posizione migliore per farlo, ma ti ostini a non vederla"

"Cosa stai insinuando, fratello?"

"Andate in guerra ogni anno, Thor. Nostro padre ha una certa età ma ancora si ostina ad andare personalmente in battaglia. Tra qualche anno probabilmente si arrenderà all'evidenza, ma non dubito che continuerà a fare lo stratega perché la guerra è la sua ragione di vita. è quello che sa fare meglio, è ciò che ha dato lustro alla nostra casata. Quindi non abbiamo molto tempo"

Orick avanzò verso Thor guardandolo dall'alto.

"Clover dovrà sposarsi il prossimo autunno. Abbiamo solo l'estate per assicurarci che nostro padre non possa più nuocere a nessuno."

Orick si abbassò al suo livello, gli afferrò le spalle e lo guardò negli occhi.

"Thor. Uccidilo. Per il bene di tutti"

Lo sentì irrigidirsi nella sua presa.

"Ma è nostro padre, io-"

Orick lo lasciò andare e si massaggiò le tempie.

"Per gli dei! Non vuoi sporcarti le mani? Basta che non pari un colpo di qualche soldato nemico! è fin troppo facile morire in guerra, lo sai meglio di me! Non hai visto abbastanza ragazzini morti per capire che niente di questo ha senso? Contadini senza preparazione mandati come carne da macello nelle prime linee? Non li hai ammazzati tu di tuo pugno?"

Il silenzio di Thor valeva più di mille parole.

"Eppure ti fai problemi ad ammazzare un vecchio bastardo senza morale? Se lui non ci fosse l'elite di vecchi che ha ancora interesse nel volere la guerra perderebbe sostenitori e probabilmente questa guerra insensata avrebbe fine! Tu che sei così buono non pensi che la vita di una singola persona sarebbe un sacrificio accettabile? Tu diventeresti il capofamiglia, potresti annullare il fidanzamento di Clover, potresti persino annullare quello tra Cecile e Rose! Potresti lasciare che sia lei stessa a scegliersi un marito degno di lei! Quel veccho bastardo vuole solo soldi per poter continuare ad uccidere, calpesterebbe chiunque per i suoi scopi! Non pensi che sia molto più nobile liberare il mondo DA QUELLA MALEDETTA PIAGA?!"

Man mano che parlava Orick si era scaldato sempre di più e finì per urlare l'ultima frase.

Le sue mani tremavano di rabbia e non appena lo notò intrecciò le dita nel vano tentativo di mascherare quella mancanza di autocontrollo. Lui era quello calmo, quello logico della famiglia. Non poteva permettersi di lasciare che le emozioni avessero la meglio.

"Vorrei togliermi la soddisfazione di farlo con le mie mani, ma sarebbe molto più complicato. Lui sa che lo detesto, non abbassa mai la guardia attorno a me."

Thor si alzò dal letto e lo abbracciò. Erano gemelli ma lui era molto più alto e corpulento di lui. Per un sacco di tempo Orick era stato consumato dall'invidia e dalla gelosia nei confronti del fratello, tanto che i suoi sentimenti gli avevano offuscato la vista. Aveva pianto dalla disperazione, desiderando che suo padre giocasse con lui come faceva con Thor. Ma anche suo fratello non era che una delle pedine di quel vecchio, utile fino a quando eseguiva i suoi ordini.

"Perdonami, Orick."

Thor lo strinse ancora di più, costringendolo a poggiare la testa sul suo petto e Orick era così stanco che lo lasciò fare, anche se la cosa gli dava più fastidio che solievo.

Sarebbe stato tutto più semplice se fosse stato lui a nascere per primo.

Uncle Caleb and me

This original story was written for COWT 11 by Landedifandom, week 3, mission 1 "Age difference"

Rafael is 22,
Caleb is 40
(18 years)

warning: homophobia,
safe

"Rafael was glad that he could keep his head busy with driving.

Chris was in the passenger seat beside him just in case he needed directions - unnecessary since he had the GPS turned on.

He was eventually distracted by their friends in the rear seats and spent most of the travel turned towards them.

Rafael didn't mind the chatter, even if he preferred not to join in. He had noticed from a quick glance to the rear mirror that Samantha had stopped sulking and was laughing with the others.

Of course she wanted to spend the drive with her boyfriend beside her, and of course Chris was too dense to even think about it.

Rafael was glad she was having a good time. She was slowly but surely becoming a part of the gang, just like Cynthia when she had started dating Rob a couple of years ago.

Sam probably felt a weird mix of a desire to impress Rafael - since he was her boyfriend's best friend - and mild jealousy towards him, but he liked her regardless.

She was the best girlfriend Chris had ever had since he had met him in high school.

She was just his type - Small, cute, with huge breasts - but also strong-willed, ready to call him out when he needed to.

She was everything Rafael wasn't.

He wondered if things would have been easier on him if she was bad.

If she had been like the others.

But she didn't cheat on Chris, she wasn't with him just because of his good looks or because he was good at fucking. She really cared.

If only I could hate you, Sam.

They were going to spend a week on vacation in the cabin of Chris' uncle in the mountains.

It was mostly for Chris' birthday but also because they wanted to celebrate the end of the exams and it was a cheap trip.

It wasn't a destination that Rafael would have chosen on his own but Chris always managed to drag him on whatever the hell he wanted to do.

Rafael didn't know why he hadn't grown tired of him already. He had all the opportunities to throw him away and replace him with better friends.

He was warm and kept adding people to the group without giving up on anyone. Chris always reached up to him when he tried to shy away.

He may have pined for Chris for too many years already but that had never stopped him from getting around once he had finally come out. Actually, he had caught up in university for all that he had missed in high school.

That was probably the reason why no one had suspected he had a crush on Chris, not even Rob, who was bi and more observant than most.

He tried his best to avoid guys that looked too much like his best friend, just to be safe.

Chris had been the last one he came out to, because of the fear he had of losing him as a friend.

After this long, he had thought it would have been easier if that had happened.

If Chris had looked at him with eyes full of disgust. If he had punched him, calling him a fag.

He would have cried his eyes out, he would have felt like the earth had crumbled beneath his feet but after months, or a year at most he would have been able to get over it. Or if he had chosen a different university and they had lost contact.

But that hadn't happened.

Chris had been surprised, but he had hugged him, thanking him for his trust and telling him that he would always be his best friend no matter what. That if someone had bothered him, he would punch them.

That nothing would have to change between them.

Rafael had sobbed at those words, hugged him and dirtied his shirt with snot. Because those words felt the best and the worst at the same time.

Would you still say the same if you knew?.

He didn’t want to ruin their bond. He wanted to appreciate what they already had.

He knew it was time to move on. He didn’t want to lose him as a friend.

The house was beautiful, with two levels and just in front of a lake.

Not at all what he had imagined since it was way more modern and bigger than what he had in mind when Chris had called it a cabin.

Sam put his thoughts into words.

"You call this a cabin, Chris?? It's Instagram-worthy!"

Cynthia visibly relaxed "And I was so worried this was going to look like a setting from a horror movie!"

Rafael took a photo with his phone. Rob patted his shoulder from behind, watching the result. "Send it in the group, okay?"

“Sure.”

Rafael was going to take another picture when he noticed through the camera that a man was walking towards them from the outskirts of the nearby woods.

"There's someone in there"

"Uncle!"

Chris ran towards the man, almost jumping on him.

Rob looked at them confused "Who is that?"

Cinthia tried "Maybe the caretaker?"

Sam, Rob and Cynthia looked at Rafael, hoping for an explanation he didn't have.

Chris cleared any doubts right after.

"This is my uncle Caleb! And these are my girlfriend and friends!"

Rafael felt incredibly dumb.

He knew that Chris often went to visit his uncle and that the cabin was his, but he had always thought it was a second house used for holidays, not the actual home of the man.

He looked so much like Chris it was almost painful.

Something out of a time machine, eighteen years into the future.

"Nice to meet you"

Caleb said with a soft smile as he shook his hand like he had done with the rest of the group, even if Rafael noticed a slight hesitation when it came to him.

"Nice to meet you too"

Uncle Caleb avoided small talk, but from time to time Chris made him join in with them.

Rafael and the man never actually talked directly, but he noticed how Caleb looked at him when he thought he wouldn't notice. He wouldn’t have thought any of it if Rob didn’t ask him when they were alone.

“Hey, have you met Chris’ uncle before?”

“Nope”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Why?”

“Well, I noticed that longing look he throws at you from time to time and wondered…”

“You shouldn’t be surprised. I’m just that cool!”

Rob laughed a bit too much at his joke but left it at that.

At first, he had seen only how uncle and nephew resembled each other but he was taking note of all the differences.

Caleb had the same muscular built, clear eyes and the short dark blond hair Chris had, but the bare hint of a beard and his general dull atmosphere made Rafael feel hot under his sweater. Chris’ uncle was an introvert, he didn’t have the confidence nor the warmth of his nephew. And yet, Rafael caught himself indulging in the sight regardless, his eyes bouncing from one to the other more than he wanted to admit. It was a first for him to be attracted to a man so much older than himself.

Rob and Cynthia, Chris and Sam shared a room each and Rafael got one all for himself.

The privilege of a fifth wheel.

It was difficult at night.

He wasn't even that close to Chris and Sam's room - there was the bathroom in between the two bedrooms - and yet he could still hear them.

Not just Sam's high-pitched, delighted moans. Even Chris' deeper needy ones. the bed cracking under them. The way Chris slammed the wall when he came.

It was like he could see them right in front of him.

Drunk Chris had told him about Sam's love for crotchless panties, about how soft her tits felt, how satisfying it was to not be able to fit them all under his palm.

He had hoped it was a one-time thing but this was the third night they went at it and this started to sound like a special kind of torture tailored to him. It would have been perfectly fine if they weren’t that loud.

He regretted not bringing someone with him as well, just not to feel left out of the fun.

Chris had said that he would even rent a bigger car if Rafael wanted to invite one more person.

But Rafael didn't have anyone like that.

Why do you have to be so nice?

He had solved part of the problem by listening to music with his phone but he didn't dare to fall asleep with earphones on. He had this silly fear of strangling himself with the cable so he had given up on that.

But he also didn't want to sleep on the couch in a home that wasn't his, and he sure as hell did not want to explain why the morning after.

He dressed and went out for a walk, hoping that in a couple of hours they would finally be done and asleep.

Through the glass door he noticed that Chris’ uncle was smoking in the veranda in front of the lake.

He didn't know what to do and was almost changing idea when the man turned towards him as he had heard him.

Caleb made a silent gesture for him to join him.

"Hello"

"Hello. Trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah..." that was a nice way to put it.

Caleb took a pack of cigars out of his pocket jacket and shook them in front of him.

"Woah, cigars? No thanks, I won't be able to finish one all by myself"

"You know you're not supposed to smoke them in one go, right?"

Rafael laughed. "Yeah, of course. But I don't even have a lighter on me, it would end up forgotten in a pocket and would just go bad. It's something you're supposed to share between people, right?"

Caleb took a huge drag of his cigar, looking pensive.

Then he offered the same cigar to him, wordlessly studying him.

Rafael took it because not doing it would be even weirder.

"Thanks"

He said, and Caleb smiled his usual soft, bitter smile.

Rafael stared at the lake and puffed the smoke out, coughing lightly.

“You shouldn’t inhale the smoke,” Caleb warned him.

Rafael laughed it off.

“Yeah, I know, it’s just stronger than what I expected. Not bad, though”

They stayed like that for a while. No words between them, just the light brush of their fingers when they passed each other the cigar from time to time.

It kept getting shorter, and Rafael feared what we would do when they didn't have that excuse.

"Chris had told me a lot about you"

Caleb said, in an uncharacteristic attempt at conversation.

Rafael looked at him questioningly, but he didn't seem to have any intention of explaining himself further though.

A realization hit Rafael for the first time.

That was the reason for the weird stares until now? For the awkward silence?

"Oh. About his gay best friend?"

"What? No!"

Caleb blushed to his ears.

"Chris doesn't out people like that!"

That phrasing. That indignant tone.

Rafael finally got it.

The uncle that lived by himself. The uncle Chris went to visit, always alone. The one that didn't get invited to Chris' sister wedding.

"Oh."

Caleb scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah. Chris is a good kid. He was the only one in the family that kept talking to me when I came out."

Rafael could imagine that. Chris had warned him that his family wasn't as openminded as him when he had visited his home the first time.

So it was probably thanks to Caleb’s influence?

"I used to babysit him when he was little. When his parents forbid him to visit me without an explanation he ran away from home just to meet me. He was... thirteen I think?"

Caleb smiled at that memory like it was something nice.

"It was that bad?"

"Well, it was different back then. Things changed a lot since I was your age."

"You're not that old, come on"

"I'm 40."

"Old. But not too old."

Rafael said.

"Too old for what?"

Rafael took out the cigar and placed it on Caleb's lips, brushing them with his fingertips.

Rafael saw his eyes grow wider but the older man took it between his teeth.

"I wonder,” he said, his eyes dropping to his lips and back up at his eyes.

Rafael didn’t really know what he was doing nor what he was expecting, but it wasn’t a nervous laugh and silence. Seeing an old man get so flustered by that tidbit of teasing made him interested.

“Am I your type?”

Caleb actually dropped the cigar into the lake. It plopped into the dark with a fizzing sound.

“Oh, fuck!”

Rafael laughed out loud, resting his arms on the wooden railing.

“Too far?”

Caleb rubbed his temples and a low, frustrated growl escaped his mouth.

“I know, I know… it’s the stares, right? I’m really spending too much time on my own lately. I’m forgetting how to deal with people. I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. It’s just that you remind me of a friend”

Rafael hoped the disappointment wasn’t obvious on his face, but he hid it with more teasing just in case.

“Is he hot?”

“He was. I have no idea where he is now.”

"You two were..?" He didn't know how to phrase it so he just gestured awkwardly.

Caleb shook his head.

“Never. But I had it bad for him.”

That bitter fondness that he could still hear in his tone was probably what made him ask the following question.

“And how did you get over it?”

Did you ever get over it?

“... he didn’t take it well when I told him. He literally beat it out of me”

“Fuck”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s was a long time ago”

Rafael had thought that he would have preferred a violent reaction but his heart hurt just imagining what Caleb must have gone through.

Rafael was a very spoiled kid, wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry I brought it up”

He didn't know what else to say.

"Don't be."

Caleb shrugged it off easily. And yet Rafael felt like he had ruined the mood.

He left soon after and came back to bed.

Thankfully Sam and Chris were silent by that time.

"You disgusting fag!"

Chris pushed him on the floor and started kicking him.

Rafael was so shocked he didn't even yell or cry out for help.

Chris would never do this. I can't believe this, it's not.

"Stop!"

Caleb's voice was strong and reassuring.

The kick stopped.

Chris had disappeared.

Rafael hurt all over and was sobbing.

"It's okay. You'll be fine."

Caleb was patting his back. It touch was warm and soothing..

Rafael hugged him, unable to speak.

"You'll be fine"

Caleb kept saying, hugging him and caressing his hair.

"Thank you..."

Rafael stayed in his lap for a while,

It felt good.

So incredibly good.

Rafael woke up unusually early, even before his phone's alarm clock rang.

He was hugging his pillow tightly and he could feel dried tears on his cheeks.

The talk of the night before must have affected him more than he thought it would.

He groaned in the pillow, the images of his dream still a little too vivid on his mind.

He sneaked in the bathroom and prepared for the day.

He was a bit less sleepy after the shower and was headed to the kitchen when he heard the sound of someone else trafficking with pans. He wasn't sure about it and felt silly for doing it but he still unbraided his long hair, checked himself in the mirror in the corridor before greeting Caleb.

He could make things awkward, thinking back at his dream or bringing up the conversation from the night before or he could light things up. It was all up to him.

"Good morning..."

He saw the older man jump a little at that, but he recovered quickly.

"OH! Good morning, Rafael"

He liked how Caleb said his name - he got the pronunciation right.

He may have stretched to lift his t-shirt up on purpose.

Still, he smiled a little seeing the man's eyes darting on what little skin he was showing.

"Are you making breakfast for everyone?"

"Well, I was craving pancakes so I just thought of making more for everyone..."

"You're spoiling us too much. Let me help you"

"Oh, there's no need"

"I want to," Rafael said, brushing the old man arm and feeling the goosebumps he caused "Where is everything?"

"Um... the syrup is in that drawer and the blueberries are in the fridge"

"Okay"

He took them out and set the table while he tried for small talk.

"It's been a long time since I last had pancakes. Missed the taste"

"Me too. I like them but making them just for me is too much work"

"I get it. I usually make them with my sister when I go back home. We're too stressed to make them in the dormitory. Well, I did make them just once, left them on the table and went to the bathroom and by the time I was back they were already gone. I can't prove it but I know it was our roommate Fred. He always inhales his food."

Maybe it was his annoyed tone that made Caleb laugh so much.

A low, deep laugh. Rafael took note that it was the first time he had heard him laugh so wholeheartedly.

“It wasn’t that funny, Caleb”

"Yeah, yeah it was just the way you said it that,” the man coughed a little and finally recovered.

”I can imagine. Here it is. Try out the first one”.

He dropped it on a plate. The smell was incredible.

Rafael didn't have to be told twice.

"Woah. Amazing. Fred would wipe them all out in a second"

"Ha ha.Thanks"

Caleb said without looking at him, too focused on what he was doing to notice he was looking at him.

The light coming through the window highlighted the green in his eyes.

Bring out the blond of his eyelashes and beard. Even the light hair in his arm. His hands looked rough and big. Strong.

They had felt amazing in his dream.

Rafael stopped that train of thought right there. He sat on the table, focusing on his pancake.

The others woke up soon after and the quiet in the kitchen was replaced by laughs.

They decided to swim since the weather was sunny.

Everyone changed in their swimsuits and jumped on the lake while Rafael settled on the shore, watching his friends from afar.

"You're not joining?"

Caleb asked him, surprised. When Rafael turned he got the best view of the man stripping in front of him.

He was glad he was taking his shirt off above his head so he couldn't see the thirsty, undignified face Rafael made. He didn't shave, thank God. Rafael would have gladly run his hand above his abs and pecs.

Rafael would have bet Caleb was the type to choose the plainest board shorts ever fabricated but he was wearing a pair of black jammers that made his glorious ass look even better. Not the type to skip leg day, uh?

"Oh- oh no. I can't swim"

Rafael scratched the back of his head, looking away from that gorgeous sight.

"What?"

"Ha ha ha, yeah. Well, it's not like I'm scared of even entering the water. I can like, float a bit but I can't move. So I usually just sunbathe"

Caleb looked at his friends with his hands on his hips and a troubled look on his face.

Rafael was sure he was going to join them but then he sat in the beach towel beside him.

"Oh, there's no need for-"

"Oh, I live here. I can swim as much as I like. Or would you rather read?"

Caleb asked, eyeing the book that laid between them, opened in the middle with a bookmark inside.

Rafael closed it and put it aside.

"I enjoy the company"

Rafael hoped he didn't sound as flirty as he thought he was. Damn, this was getting worse each day.

The teasing was still okay but hitting on his best's friend uncle was a bad idea, right?

"Me too. So, what were you reading?"

"Oh, Forbidden Colours by Yukio Mishima. I've read it years ago the first time. I'm halfway through it now. I'm not sure if I'd recommend it, though"

"Well, if you're reading it twice, it must be good. What is about?"

"It's about a beautiful young gay man that has to marry a rich woman"

"Oh."

"Well, it's more complicated than that. There's this famous evil author that hires him to take revenge against his exes and pays him to make them fall in love this him and then break their hearts? And the protagonist has also these hookups with men behind his wife's back and there's a lot of emphasis on the mix of guilt and resentment he feels for her since it's all narrated in his point of view. It's also probably autobiographic and well...It's pretty depressing but still good in my opinion"

"Sounds tough," Caleb agreed, "I feel bad for both of them."

"Yeah."

Caleb and him met eyes and he could feel his heart beating faster.

Was he the only one to feel the electricity between them?

"Hey!"

They both jumped and Rafael saw Chris waving at them, getting out of the water.

"What are you doing there?"

"We're just talking!" Rafael said. Why was he feeling a pang of guilt in his heart?

"I was thinking," Chris continued "that my uncle could teach you how to swim!"

"What, I-" Rafael blabbered "I don't want to bother him!"

Caleb was blushing. He could clearly see the red on his ears trough his short hair.

"Well, I kind of wanted to ask, but I didn't want to make you feel bad-"

Chris put his hands on his hips looking at them from above with a big smile on his face.

"I know, that's why I'm the one saying it. My uncle is shy but he's a really good teacher! He was the one that taught me"

"Well, but you were a kid..."

Rafael knew it was a bad idea. He knew it. But it was also an offer he couldn't refuse.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, then- but. I'm bad. I could drag you underwater if I get scared."

Caleb shook his head.

"Don't worry about it."

When they entered the water hand in hand -it didn't mean anything, okay?! - Rafael could see Rob hidden in the water with only his eyes sticking out, making bubbles like a five year old. He had the most knowing look he could master. Rafael could picture a little too well his annoying smirk underwater.

Cynthia was swimming nearby and Rafael heard her ask him "Why are you making that face, Robbie?"

Rob wiggled his eyebrows and disappeared in the water completely.

Rafael was glad his skin could hide most of his blush.

'He's going to tell her, that stupid gossip'

"Is this level still comfortable for you?" Asked Caleb. The water was reaching Rafael's shoulders while it didn't cover Caleb's pecs yet. What a giant of a man, really.

"Yeah. I wouldn't go father, though"

"Okay."

First, Caleb let him try to stay afloat on his own with his back on the water. Then he made Rafael turn side, took his hands on his and walked backwards while he let Rafael kick with his legs alone. It was more tiring than he remembered but it wasn't as scary as the last time he had tried it, but it had been a while.

"I think I could try something harder, too!"

"Then you should try coordinating your arms and legs. I'll keep you afloat"

"Okay."

"Grab my arm. I'll put a hand on your belly"

"O-okay."

He felt his hand shift on his torso, just brushing one of his nipples and then settling over his stomach.

"I'll bring the other one over your chest. You start when you feel comfortable"

"mmm"

He hoped Caleb didn't notice the thumping of his heart, or at least didn't understand the reason. His fear of water was only part of the reason.

He moved his arms and legs, trying to build a rhythm.

"Try slower, then build up your pace. Turn your head from side to side to breathe."

He tried, waving his arms, but kept hitting Caleb's side with one.

"Sorry"

"I'll try keeping you afloat with one arm."

"What?"

Caleb's hand moved to his middle, and he shifted to his side, the farthest away from his arms as he could without losing his grip on him.

"You can do this?!"

"Not for long. Try to swim"

Rafael tried, more than a little impressed by the other's strength.

He was short and he was on water, but he still was a full-grown adult.

"Okay, you're going well. I'll try to let you go. Think you're ready?""

"let's try it"

Caleb's hand left him, and Rafael had to sustain his whole weight alone. He tried his all to keep his pace but when he ran out of breath he didn't have the courage to risk inhaling water instead of air so he stopped, his feet meeting the lake bottom. It was closer that he had imagined. When he stood up, The water didn't reach his knees..

"DID I JUST SWIM?!"

Rafael shouted.

"YES!" Caleb replied farther away.

He spent the whole afternoon trying to practise until he was too tired and went back to his room for a nap.

He didn't mean to sleep the whole evening though.

When he woke up, it was almost midnight.

No one had woken him up.

But now he was feeling perfectly awake and his stomach growled, so he went downstairs to get something before probably reading and eventually trying to go back to sleep.

He didn't expect to find Caleb still awake, sipping a glass of some kind of liquor.

He was sitting on the couch, the tv set on a music channel kept at low volume.

"Hello! You slept like a log. Chris tried to wake you up"

Rafael laughed. it was because of him that he hadn't slept well for the last three nights.

"The swimming must have tired me out more than I thought"

"Well, you're not used to it. I didn't expect you to improve so much in half a day though. Good job. I saved you some leftovers. Want me to warm them up for you?"

Rafael nodded.

"Thank you"

This man was too kind for his own good. The more he spoiled him the more he wanted him to keep going. It was sausages and broccoli. Simple but good.

"Do you think you could help me again tomorrow?"

"If you trust me, sure"

"Of course!" Rafael sat on the couch, the plate in one hand,eating eagerly, "honestly, I had kind of given up on learning how to swim. I thought I was too old for that"

"OLD! Aren't you the same age of Chris?"

"Yes, but you know, you’re supposed to learn when you’re still a kid so..."

"Don't worry. Everyone has their own pace. Some never learn. But I do think it's a useful skill. You'll improve in no time. Oh, sure. This deserves a toast actually. Do you like rum?"

"Let's try it."

Caleb took his empty plate and brought him the bottle of rum and another glass for him, while refilled his.

"I usually don't smoke inside but fuck it." he said, fishing out a new cigar.

He looked happy when he chopped the ends and placed it on Rafael's lips.

He even lighted it for him.

'Is he just extra nice or actually hitting on me?' Caleb looked a lot more relaxed around him now, compared to the night before.

What had happened?

"Oh! Do you like chocolate?"

Rafael nodded, even if confused.

"Yeah?"

Caleb disappeared to the kitchen again.

It was in that moment that he looked up and he noticed Cynthia watching from the stairs.

He almost dropped the cigar he had in his mouth.

Since how long had she been there?!

Cynthia mouthed a delighted "ooooh!" before she covered her lips with her mouth. She double thumbed him, winked and walked back to hers and Rob's room.

Rafael wanted to die.

Thankfully Caleb didn't seem to notice any of this when he walked back with a plate in hand.

"Dark chocolate. Try them together. It's the best combination"

"What?"

"Trust me"

Rafael was a bit doubtful but he tried it out regardless, looking sceptically at him.

But it was really, really good.

"Damn"

The squeeze he felt seeing Caleb smile should not have felt so unexpected by then.

"I know, right?"

"You're really blowing my mind"

"My pleasure"

'Wished you'd blow something else too' Rafael thought, but he bit his lip. He couldn't get there, could he?

But if his mind had wondered before, now it was sailing.

Caleb must have looked stunning at his age

Rafael didn't know the circumstances of it, but he couldn't help but hate the stupid homophobic dick that broke's young Caleb's heart. Such bad taste.

Still,he got the impression that Caleb had aged well. He had the build of someone that was actually strong, unlike the many guys he had seen at school that looked tough but run out of breath and couldn't keep up with him when things were getting interesting.

For one thing, Caleb had both stamina and strength. He would have gladly squished those hairy pecs that would certainly not fit on his admittedly small hands.

"I may be the one to get the wrong impression this time, you know,"Caleb said, looking at the glass and not at him "if you keep looking at me like that."

Rafael's eyes looked back up at his green eyes.

Rafael put his half-empty glass on the small table in front of the couch.

He was just tempted to laugh it off, but he asked instead, feeling his heart in his throat.

"What if it wasn't wrong?"

Caleb laughed.

"Please, stop making fun of an old man"

"I said you're not that old"

Rafael repeated. He trailed his fingers on the older man’s hand.

Caleb stiffened but didn’t shy away from his touch

“You didn’t reply”

“What?”

“When I asked if I was your type”

“You’re too young.”

“I’m not that young.”

Rafael sat closer.

“So, age aside?”

He gently touched the side of Caleb’s face.

“Do I look too much like him?”

“What? No, you’re nothing like him.”

Caleb immediately replied. He grabbed his hand.

Rafael thought that it was to put it away but he just pressed it more firmly against his cheek.

“You didn’t even resemble each other that much in the first place.”

“Oh. Who is hotter?”Rafael teased.

Caleb couldn’t suppress a laugh. He met his eyes for the first time.

So he wasn’t the only one after all.

“Don’t ask obvious things”

when Rafael finally kissed him, Caleb kissed back, dragging him over himself over the couch.

Set Fire To The Rain

Questa storia è stata scritta per il COWT 11, settimana 2, missione 3, prompt pioggia/oscurità

Warning: none
Rating: Safe
Parole: 1657

Era piacevole volare di notte. Le luci di Tokyo avevano un fascino particolare su di lui, probabilmente perché non essendoci cresciuto non vi si era mai veramente abituato.

Ma non era l'atmosfera che l'aveva portato lì.

La luce che stava cercando non era artificiale. Esultò dentro di sè quando notò il fuoco di Endeavor. Stava camminando da solo sul marciapiede. Si calò in una picchiata spettacolare, per poi volteggiare in aria e atterrare con delicatezza davanti a lui.

Hawks si alzò il visore sopra la fronte e sfoggiò un sorriso sfavillante.

"Buonasera, Endeavor! Come va la ronda?"

Endeavor non parve impressionato e continuò per la sua strada, sicuro - o meglio rassegnato - al fatto che l'avrebbe seguito.

"Cosa ci fai qui, ragazzo?"

Hawks ripiegò le ali dietro la schiena e gli si piazzò di fianco - dal lato ferito, ovviamente.

"Oh, solo un giro!"

Endeavor abbassò lo sguardo verso di lui, dubbioso, ma non insistette oltre.

Hawks sperava che avesse capito che non era il caso di indagare, ma la cosa più probabile era che non gli importasse abbastanza.

Ma che c'era di male a sognare un po'?

Questi momenti lo facevano tornare bambino. Quante volte aveva giocato a fare il Sidekick di Endeavor, l'eroe che aveva idealizzato guardando alla tv?

L'eroe che non aveva tempo per interviste inutili - né di leccare il culo a nessuno - forte dei suoi risultati. A cui non interessava piacere alla gente.

Le avventure nella sua mente erano molto più affascinanti che una semplice ronda notturna, ma crescendo aveva imparato ad apprezzarle. Anzi, i momenti in cui non c'era nulla da fare erano i preferiti di Hawks. Sembrava una passeggiata post cena per aiutare la digestione. Mandò una cinquantina di piume in perlustrazione. Sembravano tante piccole ombre nere nella notte.

Certo, probabilmente non avrebbe scelto quel quartiere così isolato, poco illuminato e senza ristoranti - la maggior parte dei lampioni era fulminata e nessuno girava più per le strade. Il fuoco di Endeavor sembrava ancora più brillante al buio, e il suo calore era piacevole. Hawks aveva la tentazione di avvicinarglisi sempre di più, anche a costo di perdere un paio di piume.

Tirò fuori un blocco di post it, scrisse una riga e poi lo legò a una piuma che fece sfrecciare verso un edificio poco lontano. Endeavor lo guardò incuriosito ma non disse nulla.

Sono davvero patetico, eh?

In tutta onestà,fino a poco tempo prima aveva davvero creduto di aver superato la fase fanboy.

Sì, non nascondeva che per anni aveva collezionato i gadget di Endravor e aveva avuto un paio di poster nella sua camera, ma la Commissione gli aveva sconsigliato di fissarsi solo con un singolo hero e di trovare la propria strada da eroe indipendente - che ironia eh?

E sì, aveva tenuto il suo primo carissimo peluche. Era l'oggetto che riteneva più prezioso.

Non avrebbe avuto esitazione se avesse dovuto scegliere un singolo oggetto da salvare se il suo appartamento fosse andato a fuoco.

Eppure quell'adorazione era ritornata prepotente quando l'aveva incontrato di persona sul palco quando era finalmente diventato numero uno. Non era stato capace di resistere da alla tentazione non solo di stuzzicarlo un po' ma di attirare la sua attenzione.

Quella strategia che sembrava averlo ripagato visto che dalla loro prima collaborazione erano rimasti in contatto. Probabilmente sapendo l'imbarazzo che Endeavor provava nel relazionarsi con i fan il suo approccio si era rivelato il migliore. Non era sicuro che Endeavor sapesse quanto fosse stato un'influenza importante nella sua vita.

"Allora, noti qualcosa, Hawks?" Gli chiese Endeavor, rompendo il silenzio. Il suo baritono emetteva delle vibrazioni piacevoli. Riusciva a percepirlo sia con l'udito che con le sue piume.

"Uhmm... no, niente di particolare al momento. In quell'appartamento una coppia sta litigando, ma non sembra niente di grave." rispose Hawks indicando un appartamento alla sua destra. "In quell'altro una stufetta a gas era rimasta accesa, ma l'ho già spenta. Ho lasciato una nota ai proprietari."

Hawks estrasse il blocco di prima dalla tasca della giacca, prima di rimetterlo al suo posto.

"Sei efficiente, devo ammetterlo"

"Oh" Hawks gli fece l'occhiolino. "Sbaglio o quello era un complimento?"

Endeavor sbuffò un po' di vapore dalle narici, come se stesse fumando.

Hawks adorava quando lo faceva.

"Non montarti la testa"

Hawks rise di gusto prima che un altro pensiero lo interrompesse.

"Ahahaha! AH! giusto, dimenticavo. Probabilmente inizierà a piovere tra poco"

"Con i tuoi poteri riesci anche a capire una cosa del genere?"

"Ahaha beh, indirettamente. Volando ho visto delle nuvole nere avvicinarsi. Quindi sì, direi che con il mio Quirk sono in grado di predire anche il tempo!"

Endeavor roteò gli occhi.

"Tsk, che scocciatura"

"Oh? La pioggia è un problema per il tuo Quirk?"

"Pensavo che lo fosse più per te. Non si vedono molti uccelli volare con la pioggia"

"Beh, certo, è meglio quando c'è bel tempo, ma non è che non si riesca"

"Stessa cosa per me. Il vapore toglie visibilità."

Proprio in quel momento iniziarono a cadere le prime gocce d'acqua.

Hawks le sentì sfrigolare a contatto con le fiamme di Endeavor. e man mano che la pioggia si faceva più fitta si creò un leggero vapore attorno al suo corpo.

"Oh! Sauna?"

Endeavor sospirò e esaurì tutte le fiamme che costituivano il suo costume.

.Gli occhi di Hawks si dilatarono leggermente.

"Cosa c'è?"

"La barba di fiamme era fichissima"

"Tsk"

Endeavor lo guardò con sospetto. Forse pensava che lo stesse prendendo in giro.

Beh, in effetti stava nascondendo parte della verità.

Il suo viso seminascosto dalle fiamme era figo e minaccioso, ma il suo viso senza era... fuori scala.

Non solo sembrava più giovane, ma più umano? Hawks stava imparando la differenza tra Endeavor e Enji Todoroki, ed erano i dettagli ciò che lo intrigava di più

Hawks era il primo ad essersi stupito dell'effetto che gli faceva.

La barba corta, l'accenno di baffi, le rughe leggere attorno agli occhi, persino la cicatrice gli donava. Trovava tutto incredibilmente attraente.

. Ma anche se faceva fatica a controllarsi, si rendeva conto che era meglio tenere certi pensieri per sé.

Non aveva avuto ancora la fortuna di vedere la combinazione “costume da eroe e viso pulito” e beh, Hawks si assicurò di memorizzare quell' abbinamento per un momento di intimità futura.

Endeavor era invecchiato fin troppo bene, accidenti.

Si fermò di colpo quando sentì il rumore di un vetro rotto e sussurri di più persone.

Dei ladri?

“C’è qualcosa."

Non era una domanda. Endeavor aveva capito subito dalla sua espressione. Hawks chiuse un momento gli occhi per concentrarsi meglio.

"Quattro ladri. Sono entrati in una casa credendola vuota, ma in realtà ci sono tre persone all'interno, un adulto e due bambini. La famiglia è al terzo piano, mentre i ladri sono al piano terra. Seguimi!"

Hawks prese la rincorsa e si diresse come un fulmine verso una casa poco lontana. Grande, moderna. con un giardino e un terrazzo.

Endeavor lo tampinava. "Io punto ai ladri, pensa tu a proteggere i civili"

Hawks "Sì!"

Hawks atterrò nel terrazzo. Stava decidendo se rompere la vetrata per accedere all'interno ma attraverso il vetro notò una donna in camicia da notte e una mazza da baseball.

Lei si congelò per un momento nel vederlo, poi lo riconobbe, e il solievo era più che ovvio sul suo viso. Fu lei ad aprirgli la porta della terrazza e a farlo entrare.

"Oh grazie a Dio!Hawks! Ho sentito un rumore al piano di sopra e non sapevo cosa fare! Mio marito è via per lavoro"

Da dietro la sua schiena apparvero due bambini tremanti e con il viso rigato di lacrime.

"Non si preoccupatevi, Endeavor è al piano di sotto e se ne sta occupando. Per sicurezza vi porterei all'esterno come precauzione.

"Sì la prego, tenga i miei bambini!"

Hawks prese in braccio il bambino più grande, che gli cinse il collo ancora tremante.

"Tieniti forte ragazzino! Si vola!"

Spiccò nuovamente il volo e trasportò la donna con la figlia più piccola con le sue piume. Planò lontano dalla proprietà, assicurandosi di lasciare spazio di manovra ad Endeavor.

Li mise al riparo dalla pioggia sotto una tettoia.

"State tutti bene? Posso lasciarvi qui mentre controllo la situazione?"

La madre strinse i bambini in braccio.

"Sì, sì ma vi prego, tornate presto!"

"Certo! Vi lascio delle piume nel frattempo!"

Non era particolarmente preoccupato ma non aveva idea di che Quirk potessero avere quei ladri.

Vide un uomo e una donna a terra nel giardino, evidentemente svenuti e con i vestiti strappati e bruciacchiati, ma niente di grave. Il piano terra era completamente fatto di vetrate e poteva vedere che Endeavor stava cercando di combattere a mani nude, evitando di distruggere la proprietà con il suo Quirk.

Hawks lanciò le sue piume catturando i due ladri rimasti e trascinandoli fuori.

"Endeavor!"

Hawks prese due penne primarie e le rese dure come spade per lottare contro un uomo ma prima che potesse attaccarlo una fiammata di Endeavor lo mise al tappeto.

"Ehi!"

L'ultimo uomo abbandonò ogni speranza e si diede alla fuga.Grazie alle sue gambe da cavalletta saltò il muro che attorniava la casa con facilità e si preparava a saltare via attraverso i tetti ma Hawks lo prese a mezz'aria afferrandolo per il torso, insieme fecero un giro della morte.

L’uomo urlava e si agitava cercando di liberarsi.

Hawks rise “Ah, vuoi che ti liberi? Prego!”

Hawks volò in picchiata e lo fece cadere dritto tra le braccia di Endeavor.

“Catturati!”
Endeavor guardò il povero ladro che era svenuto dalla paura di precipitare a terra.

“Non pensi di aver esagerato? Se non l’avessi preso sarebbe potuto morire.”

“Sapevo che l’avresti preso. Questo si chiama lavoro di squadra!”

Endeavor legò i ladri scuotendo la testa.

“Ti fidi un po’ troppo di me, Hawks”

Hawks rise.

“Per me sei il più figo di tutti, Endeavor”

Current Mood: frustrated

The Ironbones - Lord Ironbone (bonus chapter)

Capitolo scritto per il COWT 11, seconda settimana, missione 1, prompt Soldi di Mahmood, con particolare riferimento a questi passaggi:

"Te la prenderai per un bugiardo/
Menti a casa ma lo sai che lo sa
Mi chiede come va, come va, come va
Sai già come va, come va, come va/
Pensavi solo ai soldi, soldi"
Rating: Safe
Warnings: Age difference (30+ anni), Matrimonio combinato, Padre Orribile,
Parole: 941

"Buonasera. Sono il Conte Edward Silk"

L'uomo porse la mano a sua sorella con un sorriso educato. Orick lo guardò con sospetto e non accennò ad andarsene.

Aveva l'aria di essere intelligente e raffinato - i suoi vestiti erano all'ultima moda e ben aderenti.Sicuramente da giovane doveva essere stato un bell'uomo, e anzi, aveva mantenuto una figura snella nonostante l'età. Era ancora perfettamente rasato e da vicino riuscì a notare che aveva gli occhi scuri, insoliti da quelle parti.
Clover esitò solo un attimo prima di porgergli la sua mano guantata. Lui le baciò il dorso e lei non fece a meno di ridere, colta alla sprovvista.
Di certo non pensava che quell'uomo la vedesse come una promessa sposa.
O meglio, un altro costoso gioiello da aggiungere alla sua collezione non molto diverso dagli anelli che già sfoggiava su quella mano rugosa ma delicata come quella di un artista.

"Buonasera, sono Clover di Ironbone. Come posso aiutarvi?"

Orick porse a sua volta la sua mano destra al conte, esigendo una stretta di mano.
"E io sono Orick, secondogenito della famiglia Ironbone" si intromise.

Il conte parve divertito dalla cosa, e abbandonò la mano di Clover per stringere la sua.
Orick si aspettava solo mal celato fastidio, ma intravide una scintilla di interesse che non si aspettava. Forse poteva sfruttare la cosa a suo vantaggio.

"Piacere di conoscere entrambi. Vostro padre mi ha parlato tanto di voi. Vedo che non esagerava quando esaltava la vostra bellezza, Lady Clover"

Prima che Clover potesse rispondere, Orick chiese.

"Dubito che nostro padre vi abbia menzionato la mia, giusto?"

Il conte si girò nuovamente verso di lui, lanciandogli un sorriso enigmatico.

"Mi rincresce dire di no, Lord Orick. Siete due splendidi giovani"
Oh.
Non si era sbagliato.
"Ci vedete ancora bene, allora" gli disse ammiccante
Vide il conte sgranare gli occhi ma prima che potesse rispondergli suo padre calò una grossa mano sulla sua spalla. Quello che dall’esterno sarebbe potuto sembrare un gesto d’affetto era solo una presa dolorosa.
In qualunque altra circostanza non avrebbe esitato a dargli uno schiaffo, ma voleva fare bella impressione a giudicare dalla falsità con cui gli parlò davanti al conte.
“Orick, caro figlio, Come va? Purtroppo sono arrivato all'ultimo e non abbiamo ancora avuto modo di parlare da soli. Sei riuscito a badare alla casa durante la mia assenza?"
“Oh, caro padre, sapete già come va. Ne abbiamo parlato ieri sera a cena quando siete arrivato.”
Suo padre lo uccise con lo sguardo. Strinse più forte la presa sulla sua spalla, ma Orick si limitò a sorridere di più, ignorando il dolore.
“Lascia che il conte e tua sorella si conoscano. Arrivederci, Lord Edward”
Orick fece l’occhiolino a Clover che lo stava guardando preoccupata, e seguì il padre.
“So cosa stai facendo, maledetto vecchio” gli sussurrò.
Suo padre gli rivolse un sorriso pieno di disprezzo, ogni finzione abbandonata non appena aveva voltato le spalle al conte.
“Davvero? Uno come te riesce a comprendere le mie motivazioni?”
“Stai vendendo Clover. Per quanto?”
“Pensi che mantenere tutto questo sia economico?”
suo padre indicò con la mano tutto quello che si trovava attorno a loro.
“Castello, servitori, cibo, educazione. Anche tu apprezzi gli agi in cui sei nato.”
“Ringrazio di non essere nato donna, altrimenti avresti venduto anche me”
“Forse sarebbe stato meglio, saresti stato almeno utile a qualcosa. ”
“Non ho dubbi che troverai un modo per sfruttare anche me, presto o tardi”
“Finalmente qualcosa di intelligente. Non ti intromettere, o ne pagherai le conseguenze. Se stai buono, anche tu trarrai vantaggio da tutto questo”
"Allora, quanto vale mia sorella? Spero che tu non l'abbia venduta per un paio di cavalli"
"Sì vede proprio che non hai idea di queste cose. Purtroppo la schiavitù non esiste più.Uno splendido fiore vergine come lei, di una casata prestigiosa come la nostra? Potrei costruire un altro castello come questo."
"... Ha soldi da buttare, il vecchio Silk. Ma c'è altro sotto. Non penso che speri ancora in degli eredi"
"Oh, non sottovalutarlo. Edward èun pervertito di prim'ordine. Si divertirà parecchio con tua sorella. Pensi che non si sia mai sposato prima?"
Orick non riuscì a trattenere un verso di disgusto.
"Oh, bastava questo a farti zittire? Tu sei molto più fortunato di quello che pensi. Ti lascio vivere negli agi perché nonostante tutto porti il mio cognome. Cosa saresti senza il titolo?
Non dureresti due giorni come contadino, e se ti abbandonassi nella foresta finiresti sbranato dai lupi prima che si faccia sera. Un uomo che non sa combattere non dovrebbe definirsi uomo"
"Non potrei dire la stessa cosa di Lord Edward?"
"Oh, ma lui non è un uomo. é una nave carica d'oro."
Orick digrignò i denti ma non replicò. Per quanto gli costasse ammetterlo suo padre aveva ragione. Senza i suoi privilegi non sarebbe sopravvisuto a lungo. Ma vista la sua salute precaria da bambino se fosse stato figlio di contadini sarebbe semplicemente morto prima di arrivare alla maggiore età.
“Non avresti bisogno di vendere tua figlia a qualcuno che ti disgusta se lasciassi perdere la guerra. Vuoi davvero dilapidare tutto il patrimonio accumulato di generazione in generazione? Il nonno sarebbe davvero orgoglioso di te se ti vedess-”
“Sta zitto. Non osare nominare mio padre. Se tu fossi nato a quei tempi, ti avremmo semplicemente affogato da piccolo.”
Orick sogghignò.
“Forse avresti dovuto, mio amato padre.”
Quanta energia aveva sprecato cercando di ottenere l’affetto di quel padre che non era in grado di amare nessuno. Eppure ottenere quell’attenzione, anche se negativa, sembrava soddisfare qualcosa in un angolo buio dentro di lui.

Current Mood: angry

Entry tags:

The Ironbones - Side Orick

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The Ironbones - Pure Heart

Pure Heart
Written for:
MARITOMBOLA 2020 “COME SCUSA NON HO SENTITO/...NON IMPORTA”

PROMPT EXPLORER: MISTERO, FORESTA, ACQUA + Stesso genere: Angst

Pure Heart

"The weather is nice, would you like to go hunting?"

"Oh? Are you sure I won't be a burden? I don't really know how to..."

"You'll never be a burden! I can teach you if you want!"

"Thank you, Rose. Oh, we should call Clover too..."

"Oh, she doesn't really like hunting that much..."

"Oh, then Ori-" Cecile stopped mid-sentence. He smiled apologetically. "Well, maybe it would be better with just the two of us, right?"

They made a beeline through the gardens to the forest.

Rose had brought a bow and a quiver full of arrows while she had given Cecile a huge basket to put their preys in.

Cecile fondled the hem of Rose's white dress shirt.

"I wanted to ask since before, is this shirt Thor's?"

"Oh, you noticed? yeah. My old clothes are a little tight for me so I started wearing his old ones. I think I actually like them more"

Rose stretched her arms. The fabric was soft and loose-fitting.

"Even if they're male clothes?"

Rose looked at him, pensive.

"I've never really thought about it?"

Aside from their father visit's none of them really put much thought about what they wore.

"Well, it's not like any of us follow etiquette. Father would beat as all if he saw us.

Clover's is always covered up because she's cold, Orick is probably too fancy for our father tastes too. Do I look bad in them?"

Cecile shook his head.

"I actually think they suit you."

The small braid on his left shoulder, longer than the rest of his hair, flapped over his chest. Rose looked at it rather than his face as she continued.

"It's just that... dresses feel so wrong, you know? They're so impractical and- well. I like dresses too, Clover is lovely in them. They're just not for me I guess"

Cecile started playing with his braid, his blond hair catching the light of the sun between his fingers.

" You know, the more you grow up, the more you resemble him. Thor, I mean."

It shouldn't have been a compliment, but it felt like it.

"Orick picks on me all the time"

"He picks on everyone"

"Haha, you're right":

"Your hair too. He used to have the same cut before he went to the battlefield"

Cecile put one of her locks behind her ear.

Rose was glad she hadn't tied it as usual.

Her hair had gotten better after she had cut it off. It was easier to take care of it now that it barely reached her shoulders and the ends weren't as dry.

She changed the subject, ignoring the heat she felt on her cheeks and hoping it wasn't visible.

"We should get out of the path if we want to find something."

But they kept talking way too much for a successful hunt, so Rose gave up and they focused on looking for vegetables instead. She talked at length about which plants were safe to eat and which ones to avoid, showing them to a surprised Cecile.

"Oh! These are edible! You can pick those!"

Rose crunched down in front of grey mushrooms with flat caps.

Cecile looked at them, a bit worried.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I have a friend that taught me. They're tasty!"

They were too absorbed in their task to notice that the weather was turning bad.

A huge thunder made them both jump.

Rose looked at the sky and saw the clouds gather above them, coming from the direction of the mason.

They would never get home in time without getting drenched.

"Come with me!"

Rose took Cecile's hand and rushed through the trees.

There was a cave nearby. She knew the forest like the palm of her hand. She felt stupid. It made sense for a city boy like Cecile to not notice the sudden changes, but not for her.

He had a weak constitution as a kid, just like Clover. He seemed fine now but she didn't want to risk getting him sick.

It started pouring as soon at they were inside the cave.

"Woah! Just in time!"

Rose didn't work a sweat from running while Cecile was gasping for air with his hands on his knees. Rose felt a pung of guilt when she noticed he was trembling.

She patted his back.

"I'm sorry! I run too fast!"

"Don't- worry- about it..."Cecile said between breaths.

He was just about to rest his back on the cave walls but Rose tagged him.

"You really don't want to touch that!"

She put her mantle under her butt and made Cecile sit between her legs.

"There's A LOT of insects that crawl on those walls! We'll keep warm while we wait. It's a summer storm so it shouldn't take too much".

It was when she noticed how stiff Cecile was that she realized how close they were.

She was used to hugs and affectionate touches between them since they were children but this felt different.

She blushed at her own daringness.

But before she could say anything Cecile relaxed, shifting sideways so that they could see each other faces. He tangled one of her legs between his.

"Thank you" he simply said, looking up to her.

She turned slightly, shielding her face with her hair.

She didn't know how, but sometimes she forgot how beautiful he was.

How long his eyelashes were and how clear the blue of his eyes was.

How plump and soft his bottom lip was, always a bit chapped because he bit on it.

They stayed in silence for a while, until Cecile's breath turned even.

"You manhandled me and NOW you're acting shy?"

She flinched at that. That tone sounded a lot like Orick's when he picked on her, but didn't have the same malice. It was something else she didn't understand.

"I-I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to get drenched"

And then she imagined Cecile with his soft blue tunic all wet. How it would cling to his body, showing off the figure she could only imagine underneath.

Would the fabric turn seethrough from the rain?

For a moment she wished she hadn't run as fast.

Cecile didn't say anything more, but let her hug him.

Her heart was beating so much she could feel it above the sound of the rain.

"Cecile, I-" her voice was lost under the rumble of a thunder way closer than the rest.

Cecile froze beside her.

"What? I'm sorry I- I didn't hear you"

"...it doesn't matter"

The storm passed, but Rose felt restless all the way back.

They didn't take much because she was too lost in her head. It was meaningless to confess to Cecile, right?

He must have known.

She had liked him since as long as she could remember.

There hadn't been anyone else in her mind, ever.

She was so lucky to be her fiance.

She would have changed a lot in her life if she could but that was one of the things that made her feel blessed.

One day, they would get married.

She was worried that their marriage would turn loveless and cold like her mother's and her father's. Well, that was the norm. Nobles didn't marry out of love.

But they had always got alone well. She hadn't dared to hope for more.

But Cecile didn't seem put off by her appearance or by her passions.

He was going to be the perfect husband.

He would allow her to be as she wanted.

He was kind to everyone and he never raised his voice. He was never mean like Orick or violent like her father.

I'm so lucky to have you, Cecile.

I love you, Cecile.

She didn't really know what she wanted to say.

And then there were those other things.

The way he made her feel.

That heat inside her.

She really didn't have words for that.

They were in the gardens again. They were going to be back with the others, and then her father and brother would join in, and the other guests, and Clover, and Orick.

She was lucky already to have been able to spend some time alone with him.

And yet she wanted more.

There were no words for that.

But she had seen Orick drawings.

All the things that people did when they loved each other.

Cecile was walking a couple of feet behind her, and didn't notice she had stopped walking and had turned to him. He looked tired and pensive as well.

She grabbed his head and pressed her mouth on his.

All started crumbling after that.

They eat dinner in silence.

Clover was too tired to join, so she stayed in her room, so the was only Cecile, Clover and her at the dinner table.

Cecile tried to have small talk and after a while Rose joined in, pretending everything was normal.

Orick didn't say anything, but his eyes darted between them.

Rose excused herself with the excuse of checking on Clover.

The next morning they were both too busy preparing for their father's arrival.

Rose asked Emily to help her. Thankfully the young maid found a way to style her hair in a manner that hid the shorter length. She had also costumized a couple of older dresses for her.

It wasn't visible, but she had added fabric and made them only look like they were suffocating. They were still uncomfortable but at least it was manageable.

Thankfully Clover looked better after some days of rest.

Rose hadn't told her what had happened with Cecile. She really wanted to, Clover had always good advice to offer, but she was just recovering and Rose didn't want to make her worry. The ball and their father's visit was stressful enough already without adding that burden too..

With Father around there was no chance to speak peacefully.

Thor too was worrisome.

He looked even more muscular but he had dark bags under his eyes.

His smile was gone, and he didn't even attempted to hug them, looking like a second shadow of their father.

Still, when they were all asleep he had sneaked into everyone's room and left gifts.

A book for Clover and a new quiver for her.

Rose searched the hall looking for Cecile.

“Where is he?”

Orick was gulping beer after beer with his dead fish eyes fixed on his glass.He didn’t glance at her but he replied.

“Cecile and Thor escaped as soon as they could. Father is displeased”

Orick laughed bitterly at that last bit.

Rose could see their Father conversing with other nobles like nothing was wrong in an angle of the giant hall.. It was surprising how much Orick could pick up.

“I’ll look for them. Fuck, I hate this dress, it’s so damn heavy!”

“You should leave them alone. Why don’t you help Clover eat all the banquet instead?”

Clover was focused on her task. She was eating only a small sample of every single dish and critiquing each one. She was talking to another older noblewoman that was probably a distant relative Rose didn’t remember.

“I pass.”

She ran - or better, tried to - to her room to finally get changed.

She tossed the heavy, frilly dress away to get her usual trousers and shirt instead.

“Aaah! This feels so much better!”

Cecile and Thor must have been in the library. She ran straight to it, avoiding the dance hall.

Turning a corner she almost slammed into Emily.

The maid yelped but didn’t drop the beers she was carrying.

“L-Lady Rose, why did you change-”

“ Sorry Emily! You didn’t see me!”

Rose didn’t meet anyone else on her way to the library.

She leaned on the door and pressed her ear to it, trying to eavesdrop, but she didn’t hear anything.

She opened the door but after a quick search she was sure there wasn’t anyone inside.

“Where are they?!”

She sighed walking though the corridor. she sat by a window, collecting her thoughts. She was so sure they were in the library she hadn’t thought of an alternative.

She was worried she had made Cecile angry.

Why did she have to kiss him?!

She remembered his shocked face.

The way he had frozen against her.

“You and I shouldn’t do this kind of thing before we’re married, right?”

He had said, not looking at her in the eyes.

He had looked so upset she had run away without even saying she was sorry.

Did I ruin everything?

But he’s my fiance, isn’t he?

He was so pure… maybe he had never thought about what they were supposed to do despite being older.

She cursed those lewd drawings she had found in Orick’s study. It was his fault she had started thinking about those things in the first place.
She looked outside the window and she noticed two figures walking side by side in the gardens.

“Brother! Cecile!”

She used the secret passage she and Clover had found out that summer.

She had just put back the grate covering the small crack on the base of the outer walls of the castle when she heard their voices.

She wanted to greet them but her voice got stuck on her throat. After hesitating one more second, she hid behind a bush.

What the hell am I doing?!

“I knew what I was getting into but… the things that we do. The thing he makes me do, I-”

Thor's voice was unusually shaky. The footsteps stopped somewhere near her.

“You’re too kind for this, Thor. War isn’t for you”

“... I have to fight! It’s my duty! I’m the firstborn!”

“...I know, but this is hurting you. You should become a priest. Not even your father could stop you. Orick would be more than happy to take your place.”

“I can’t. He doesn’t know what this means. He doesn’t know how to fight. It has been years since he had stopped taking fencing lessons… I can’t do this to him. It would be like killing him myself- I” His voice was strangled by ugly sobs.

Rose was frozen in place. She had never imagined what was on Thor’s mind. She had never

heard him cry since she could remember.

She heard the rustling of fabric and then heard Cecile’s soft voice.

“Thor. You can cry. I love you”

Thor sobbed even harder.

“I know I’m horrible but… try to talk to Orick. You’re not alone. I want to see you happy”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! If only I was stronger, if-”

his voice got cut by something Rose didn’t understand. More rustling of fabric.

A noise she had never heard before.

She turned around and tried to pick from the edge of the bush.

Thor and Cecile were kissing.

The kiss was open-mouthed and intense. Nothing like the one Rose had shared with Cecile. He was grabbing Thor’s hair to get him to his level.

And she couldn’t see Thor’s face but he didn't reject him like Cecile had done to her.

Cecile’s words rang on her ears “You and I shouldn’t do this kind of thing before we’re married, right?”

“You and I shouldn’t do this kind of thing”

“You and I”

She closed her eyes and felt hot tears drop down her cheeks.

So the problem wasn’t the kiss.

She was the problem.
She ran away without looking back.

Current Location: fantasy

Entry tags:

backstory,
break up

The hero's path

This story was written for the Explorers of the Multiverse, Chapter 1 challenge by Landedifandom
Week 3
Prompts: destiny, exodus, numbers
NSFW
Warnings: angstWords: 1940

Othello was walking though the market when an unusual stand caught his eye.
It was surrounded by food stands but the vendor didn’t sell anything edible.
There were books, strange colored rocks and something that was probably a musical instrument he had never seen before.
The vendor was very short, so much so he had thought he was just a boy at first, but then he had heard him talk with a client and the deep, rich voice was undoubtedly one of a man.
He was a foreigner, just like him.
His brown skin wasn’t as dark as his but it still stood out against the pale pink of the majority of the native people of the mountains.
Though his short, spiky hair he could see his pointy ears adorned with multiple golden earrings.

He must have been staring a little too much because the elf looked at him in the eye.

“Good evening! Have you seen anything interesting?”

He spoke like he was on the verge of laughing,his accent wasn’t thick or difficult to understand, but Othello couldn’t really place it.

“Uh, yeah-” you “what's- this?”

Othello didn’t want to admit that, it would be embarrassing and inappropriate, so he pointed at the nearest book, tapping at the wooden cover.
Only after he had asked he realized he probably looked like an idiot because he didn't know what a book was.

The elf's smile grew wider and his black eyes shined with interest.
With a finger he traced the image in the cover, a monster.

“Oh, this is a wyvern! It looks like a dragon at first, but dragons have four legs and wings, while wyvern's wings are also their arms,you know? Just like bats!”

“Oh, cool!”

“They're also dangerous, and quite moody. But they're also shy, so if you don't piss them off they'll just leave you alone. They don't find humans to be tasty... nor elves”

Othello opened the book. It was filled with images of creatures. Thankfully it was written in common tongue, so he could understand. It was filled with information about the various beasts and the best way to avoid them.

“Woah, this looks really interesting! I didn't know half of this creatures... how much is it?”

“12 golden coins”

Othello's shoulders sunk. He couldn't afford it, but he didn't think it was overpriced. It looked quite old but well kept, and the images were painted by hand in exquisite detail.

“Or I could lend it to you.” The elf continued.

“What? But you don't know me, I”

“Just a feeling. I think you'll bring back the book.
I'm Ed. You can meet me every Wednesday and Friday, right here. What's your name?”

“'m Othello Alba. Thank you?”

After that first encounter, Othello kept searching for Ed, meeting him during his work hours and then they would eat in some tavern to talk some more.

Othello would guide him around the city, and the hours seemed to rush wherever they where together.

And Othello had a problem.

He may have a crush on Ed.

And he should probably say something if he wanted this to get anywhere but he couldn't find the courage for that.

Ed had invited him in his house a couple of times but this one was the first when he was going to have dinner and stay the night. This was his chance.

Ed house was rather unique.
He lived in the forest, and he had built a tree house with rooms connecting with each other though rope bridges.

It was really different from the temple, but rather cute.

“How about a game of dice after dinner?”

“Doesn't sound so bad but let's make it interesting...”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time you lose, you have to take off a piece of clothing”

“But that would mean-”

“Yeah... you're on?”

“...sure”

“What's your lucky number from 1 to 6?”

“...uhm 4.”

“I'll go with 6”

“6”

“3”

“1!”

“4”

“Ah! You got me...”

Ed took off his shirt, and he was already half naked since he wore light clothes. His abs were delicately defined, and a couple of scars marked the otherwise smooth skin.

Othello wanted to see him naked.
He didn't know what else he wanted, or what he would do after that, but he put his thoughts aside.

“Let's roll another 4!”

Othello rolled the dice and there was a 4. And another. And another.

Ed took off his arm leather guards and his loose pants.
There was only the soft linen of his loincloth left.

“I think you found your lucky number, Othello”

Ed didn't seem worried about being almost naked in front of him, but his stare felt intense.

And then it was Othello's turn to undress.

Othello wasn't as nonchalant as Ed though. He was glad his darker complexion didn't made the blush obvious on his face but he did felt the heat and he couldn't really look Ed in the eyes anymore.

“Your 6 didn't disappoint you either, uh?”

Othello was only in his light tunic – he had cheated a bit and counted his belt as a piece of clothing, but Ed had let it pass – and his loincloth.

“You're right. I'm the opposite of disappointed.”

Othello couldn't see it, but he heard the smile on Ed's voice, he was sure it reached his dark eyes and he hoped there was something more than amusement in them.

So he glanced back and he found what he was hoping for. Ed's legs were spread wide and he had an obvious erection under his undergarment.

“So, you're ready for the last turn?”

“Yes!”

Othello threw the dice and there it was. A 4.

“Seems like I lost..” Ed said, but there wasn't sadness in his voice.

He stood up, and like that his crotch was right in front of Othello's eyes.
He caressed his short frizzy hair.

“Do you want to collect the prize, Othello?”

x

So that first time followed many others and Othello was head over wheels for Ed.
It wasn't just that sex was great, it was everything.

Ed was fun and he cared, he truly did.
He hadn't felt so close to anyone aside from his family members, and it had been years since he had left them for his path as a Paladin of the One.

He had told Ed something he hadn't ever said to anyone.
The best times where when they were in bed together, the soft sound of rain hitting the leaves outside.

When he hugged Ed's body, so small and yet strong, and let him stroke his hair with his delicate fingers, so different from his own rugged ones.

“You know... I miss my old home so much I cry sometimes.”

“Uhm... tell me”

“I'm from the Midam Islands. It's quite far from here, have you ever been there?”

“No, I visit a lot of places but I never went to that part of the ocean. Tell me more”

“There were two mayor tribes that lived there. One believed in the God of the Island, and the other in the God of the Sea. They fought and fought, until the tribe of the sea finally won.
The losers had two choices. Stay in the Island and become believers of the God of the Sea, or leave forever. My family chose to leave, and many with them.
I was a child at the time, I didn't really understand what was going on. It really hit me when we were on the boat, looking at the Island that was our ancestral home, and I saw grandpa cry like a baby for the first time in my life.

I resented my family. I resented our God of the Island. We were wrong. If they really existed, they would have never allowed them to abandon the Island. There were only lies. I felt betrayed.”

Ed didn't say anything, he kept stroking his hair. But he was listening.

“And then I found the Temple of the One. I learned about the way of his Paladins. The best heroes had all tragic stories behind them, but they fought for the weak to not them suffer a similar fate. There was hope, and honor.
I found a reason to live. I found my destiny. I want to be a hero, Ed.”

“I want you to come with me. We can make great things together, I'm sure. You're so smart, and agile, and you know so many things I don't! We'll make a great team. I'll never allow anyone to hurt you”

“I- Othello. This is-”

“Please, come with me.”

“I'm no hero, Othello. I love to travel, and meet new people and have fun and leave a peaceful life. I know how to avoid trouble. It's not like I've never been stuck in a bad situation but, actively looking for them... that's a totally different thing.”

"Can you think about it at least? You don't have to answer me right away."

It was the first he had seen Ed look so sad.
“I'll do.”
It was the first time Ed had lied to him.

The Master had welcomed the ten best nex recruits.
After years of practise, Othello was allowed to wear the armor of Paladin of the One.

He felt proud, and sad. He listened carefully at what the master was saying.
“The hero's path is lonely. Many would tempt you to stray away from it, but must be strong. This is your destiny. To protect the weak, to face danger, to sacrify your life for the sake of others. This is your holy mission”
He was at the entrance of the forest when he saw a shadow jump from a tree.
Ed landed of his feet like a cat, just in front of him.
“Don't go! Don't go, please!”
“It's too late. I chose”
“Why you didn't tell me it was today?! I couldn't even see the ceremony!”
“It wouldn't change anything. You don't want to follow me”
“I- I love you. I thought we would stay together and-”
“I'll die without accomplishing anything. You'll see me grow old and die or you'll grow tired of me and abandon me when I won't be good enough anymore.”
“No! No, I would never abandon you! It's because we have so little time to stay together that I want it to last as long as possible! Why you can't understand?!”
“I love you too. But you are a coward. And I have a path to follow. You choose to be an obstacle.”
Ed was crying in front of him. Without even trying to hid his tears.
Othello didn't feel anything. Maybe disgust for such display. He didn't esitate to point his sword against his ex lover.
Ed jumped at that.
“So stay away if you don't want to fight against me.”
“Othello, I-”
Ed bit his lip. He was trembling. He looked at him for a long moment, like he wanted to bury his image in his memory.
“I love you, Othello. I wish you the best”
Ed said and then he turned his back and run away, deep in the forest.

Current Mood: depressed

Entry tags:

Sorry excuse

Story written for the prompt "At the last moment" for the Challenge Explorers, Chapter 1, week 2 by Landedifandom

Rating: SAFE

Warning: internalized homophobia

Wordcount: 1110 w

SORRY EXCUSE

Iwaizumi doesn't know when his feelings for Oikawa shifted in something else, but he remembers the moment he noticed them.
They were by the pool at school, and a ray of sunshine hit Oikawa's wet legs for just a moment.

I want to lick those thighs!'

Iwaizumi thought.

'...Fuck.'

It was the summer of their first year in high school.
-

He had tried to rationalize that thought at first, making crazy hormones take the fault.

Oikawa was training too much for his own good to notice the change.
That was a way more serious problem that need his attention.

Iwaizumi had to get his shit together before he let his best friend ruin his health because he was too busy panicking.

So he cast those useless thoughts aside.

“Why did you hit me so hard Iwa-chan!”

Even if Oikawa's confidence was more show that anything else, he still needed to be kept on check.

“Because you deserve it,” replied everyone else in the gym but him.

Even if that was indeed, part true, it wasn't just that.

'Because that's a more acceptable way to touch you in front of others rather than what I'd actually wanna do to you'

Iwaizumi couldn't fool himself for long.
He knew that wasn't healthy and it wasn't Oikawa's fault if he wanted to rip his clothes and-Fuck. This was getting out of control.

He had never been homophobic in his life, but this was different. It was about him. It was about them.

He was a traitor.

Would Oikawa behave the same towards him if he knew?

Would they shrug this off, like everything else, or would this break their friendship forever?

He couldn't risk it. He couldn't tell him.

He was a sorry excuse for a friend.

Iwaizumi loved volleyball, if that wasn't obvious enough.

He understood that he would never become a pro player, but that didn't change his feelings towards the sport.

'It's not like you can stop loving something because it's out of your reach. Even if would make things easier.'

He was a disappointment as a friend, but thankfully not as a player.

That was his role that he took very seriously.

He was just a stepping stone for Oikawa's future, and he would make the best of it.

Oikawa only needed to be patient, take care of his body and work hard like he always did.

Soon enough, others would notice what Iwaizumi knew all too well.

He was certain of it, and he was going to be the best at making that talent shine for everyone to see.

'He's not a genius. A genius is someone that succeeds with little effort. Oikawa is better than that.'

It was useless, if not downright dangerous to let him know, and obviously embarrassing. But nonetheless true.

-

'When are you going to tell him, you traitor?!'

Every time Iwaizumi's heart skip a beat at something Oikawa did, that thought would rang in his ears.

At the end of a match, or when they where alone at home, or when they where watching a movie together, or when they spent the night at the other's house.

'You owe him the truth. Don't be a coward. No. Not yet. It's not the right time.”

He couldn't risk it.

He didn't know how Oikawa would take the knowledge that his childhood friend lusted on him.
It would make hard to play together, it would get in the way of the whole team, it would get in the way of Oikawa's career. He needed to be at his best to be scouted.
He couldn't do this to him. He was his friend, he had to help him.

'I'll wait until the last moment to tell him.'

He wasn't running away. He was being logical. He was also selfish, because that meant stay by Oikawa's side a little longer.

The plan was simple: wait until their last tournament as third years.

After getting in the Nationals together, after winning versus Karasuno.

That would mean the world for them.

Then, their lifes as students will get too busy with exams, and they'll graduate soon.
Oikawa will go to Tokyo and continue on his career, and they would call each other from time to time.

They'll laugh at that memory, shrugging it off as a teenage crush.

Yeah.

But they lost.

No matter how much effort they put into it, they lost.

Oikawa was flawless.

He was fast enough to prepare for that last destructive spike, and if their wall hadn't changed the trajectory, maybe... but they had lost.

Iwaizumi cried.

He had let down Oikawa for the last time.

He was trying to compose himself again when he noticed Ushijima talking to Oikawa.

He overheard part of the conversation.

“You should have went to Shiratorizawa”

It was true.

Everyone had held down Oikawa, he had held him down.

It was their last day of high school.

There had been no scouting for Oikawa.

There were a lot of girls that confessed to him, leaving him with no bottons on his jacket uniform. He had watched the scene from afar. Oikawa had refused all of them.

As they where going back home from school together for the very last time, Iwaizumi thought that this was his last chance to tell him the truth.

They were going to different universities, this, this was the right time to tell him and get it over with. He stayed silent too much, so it was Oikawa that broke the silence.

“Oi, Iwa-chan, do you want to tell me something?" Oikawa nudged at him,"you're so silent it's creepy!”

“I can tell you now," Iwaizumi looked away, putting his sweaty hands in his pockets.

“what is it?" Oikawa's tone was unusually gentle.

“You know, Shittykawa, I had a crush on you during our first year in high school”

Oikawa stopped in his tracks, and Iwaizumi stilled as well.

“You had?”

There was something in Oikawa's voice that made him panic. He forced a laugh.

“Ha ha, kind of embarrassing yeah? I didn't tell you because it would get in your head, you know. Hormones really mess you up... disgusting.”

He started walking again just to have an excuse not to see Oikawa's face.
Oikawa stayed behind, but then he heard his footsteps approaching and his usual overly cheerful tone.

"Hahaha! Too bad! I don't have buttons anymore! You should have told me sooner, Iwa-chan"

Entry tags:

mob character

A day in the limelight

Questa storia è scritta per la challenge Esploratori del Polyverso - Capitolo 1, settimana 1.

Prompt: giungla Rating: SAFE

Fandom: Star Trek (TOS)

“Amy Santiago, è stata scelta come quarto e ultimo membro della squadra di sbarco per questa missione. E' attesa nella sala di teletrasporto tra 15 minuti”

La voce di Uhura, ufficiale della comunicazione rimbombò nella stanza che Amy divideva con altre quattro reclute della U.S.S. Enterprise. Purtroppo l'avviso svegli la sua conquilina Lucy, che di solito faceva il turno complementare al suo. Ancora in pigiama e con i capelli arruffati, la guardò con un sguardo pieno di pietà che Amy non fu in grado di sostenere.

“Continua a dormire Lucy. Buonanotte”

Si alzò in fretta e se ne andò, prima di cedere alla tentazione di dirle addio.

-

“Buongiorno, capitano Kirk, è un onore”

Il capitano le fece un grosso sorriso, ma fu il vicecapitano a risponderle.

“Era logico sveglierla. E' l'unico membro dell'intero equipaggio ad avere precendente esperienza nella Giungla di Ju' Maan”

Amy annuì. Ecco la ragione.

Seguì i membri più anziani sul teletrasportatore, stando attenta a mettere entrambi i piedi nella zona illuminata, mentre sentiva che il cuore le poteva esplodere da un momento all'altro.

Stava accompagnando Il Capitano, Il Vicecomandante e Il Medico della nave, lei, una semplice recluta del reparto della security.

Si lisciò il davanti della sua maledetta uniforme rossa.

'Morirò. Morirò senza ombra di dubbio'.

Vide il suo corpo circondarsi di piccole scintille e farsi semitrasparente.
Si ricordò della volta in cui avevano teletrasportato a bordo un povero pilota del millenio precedente, della volta in cui il capitano era stato teletrasportato male e aveva subito un cambio di personalità tale da doverlo rinchiudere. Pregò che almeno stavolta il teletrasportatore non avesse un malfunzionamento e-

-si ritrovò in mezzo alla vegetazione, il terreno era morbido sotto i suoi stivali. L'aria era terribilmente umida ma respirabile, e una fitta pioggerella la infradiciò in pochi istanti.
Era ancora viva.

“Suarez, abbiamo poco tempo per arrivare alla nostra destinazione, il tempio di Su'Maam. Abbiamo raggiunto il punto più vicino in cui il teletrasportatore poteva portarci, ma da qui in poi dobbiamo proseguire a piedi. Tenga la mappa”

Ovviamente, OVVIAMENTE c'era qualcosa che non andava. Era chiedere troppo arrivare direttamente nel posto senza dover fare kilometri dentro a un territorio ostile.
Come aveva potuto pensare che una missione quinquennale nello spazio fosse una buona idea?!
Ma doveva tenere duro. Aveva un vantaggio. Non si trovava in un luogo sconosciuto. Aveva vissuto nel pianeta Su'tum per un anno. Almeno sapeva quali creature potevano attaccarli. Forse qualche speranza c'era.
Il comandante Spock le porse un tablet con una cover resistente all'acqua, che lei accettò e studiò rapidamente.
Amy sospirò di solievo. Non erano tenuti a spiegarle per filo e per segno il motivo per cui si trovavano lì, ma almeno aveva una missione apparentemente semplice.

Quel pensiero le fece gelare il sangue.
Un semplice controllo.
Una comune pattuglia.
Ordinaria amministrazione.

Erano sempre quelle le occasioni in cui i cadetti come lei abbassavano la guardia e tiravano le cuoia nelle maniere più atroci possibili.
I problemi di tre anni prima sembravano così sciocchi, adesso.
Aveva mollato il suo ragazzo del liceo perché non voleva sposarsi a diciannove anni e avere un figlio a venti.
Quella banalità la spaventava, eppure era nulla confronto a tutto questo.
Che imbecille sono stata.
'Oggi morirò. Vediamo quanto sarà inutile'

Non smise di pensarlo quando proseguirono nella foresta, lei in prima linea a fare da vittima sacrific- guida.
Nemmeno quando incontrarono un Millepiedi Gigante che quasi le staccò la testa di netto senza che nemmeno se ne accorgesse, o il Dottor Mccoy attirasse innevvertitamente l'attenzione di alcune Liane Carnivore che lo stavano per avviluppare e asfissiare nelle loro grinfie.

Nemmeno quando arrivarono a destinazione e consegnarono al tempio una scatola di cui ignorava il contenuto (meglio non sapere).
Non si rilassò nemmeno quando, ritornati nel luogo di partenza, il capitano inviò la richiesta di trasporto.

'Ecco. Questo è il momento. Credevo di essermi salvata, che tutto fosse andato liscio. E invece, proprio all'ultimo ecco che- '

si ritrovò di nuovo sulla nave, sana e salva, anche se molto più sporca di com'era arrivata.

"Sono viva?"

La sua voce era poco più che un sussurro, ma Spock si voltò comunque verso di lei.

"Certo, siamo appena tornati sulla nave"

"... incredibile"

Il capitano le diede una pacca sulla spalla.

"Complimenti! Ha svolto un ottimo lavoro. La terremo in considerazione per la prossima trasfert-"

"Dio no, lasciatemi qui.. capitano" disse in fretta Amy prima di farsi abbindolare di nuovo.

Le era andata bene una volta, meglio non sfidare la fortuna.

Current Mood: grumpy
Current Location: forest
Current Music: Saduin's ballads

Entry tags:

rp tommykaine

Knights at the wrong table - primo incontro

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Current Mood: relaxed

Sunrise - epilogue parte 1

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Current Mood: apathetic

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italiano amarezza

Sbaglio

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Current Mood: anxious

Entry tags:

incubo morte di un animale horror

Un brivido felino

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Entry tags:

gatto protagonista

Una mattina d'inverno

Questa storia è stata scritta per il COWT 2020, settimana 6, missione 2 ( Apricity: il calore del sole in una giornata d'inverno)

Tutte le storie devono iniziare per H (per il nick Hermes)

Warning: cat hair

Rating: safe

Parole: 636

Dedicato a una dolce vecchietta.

“Ho fame! Ho faaaaameeeee!”

Miu miagolò nella casa vuota, ma non c'era nessuno a sentirla.

Non le piacevano le mattine

Ancora meno quelle invernali.

Erano fredde.

Tutti erano via: Tommy era a scuola, la mamma e il papà al lavoro.

Miu non si annoiava più, era ormai troppo grande per voler giocare ma sentiva comunque la mancanza di qualcuno.

In particolare Tommy.

Anche se non era lui a darle da mangiare, era il suo preferito.

C'era odore di qualcosa di buono in cucina.

Forse si erano dimenticati gli avanzi della sera prima.

Il piano era piuttosto alto, ma Miu era determinata. Nonostante le zampe, specialemente quelle inferiori, non avessero la stessa potenza di una volta, se si impegnava poteva ancora farcela.

Miu si concentrò, inspirò e saltò più in alto che poteva.

Purtroppo non abbastanza in alto, e sbattè il musino per terra.

Che male.

Ma più che il male, era l'imbarazzo.

Per fortuna che nessuno aveva visto.

Una volta sarebbe stato uno scherzo saltare sul piano della cucina.

Rimase un po' lì, aspettando che il dolore passasse.

Forse era meglio lasciare stare.

Non aveva particolarmente fame, ma l'odore era molto buono... e non c'era molto altro da fare.

No, non avrebbe mollato per così poco.

Si rannicchiò su se stessa, gli occhi fissi sul piano.

Stavolta saltò e riusci a salire.

Il piano era liscissimo, per questo era scivolata prima.

Era soddisfatta, anche se un po' indolenzita. Annusò con cura quello che si trovava davanti, visto che c'era. Frutta. Niente d'interessante.

Si diresse verso il piatto avanzato. Era sul lavello della cucina, ma non era circondato dall'acqua come al solito.

Un pezzettino di carne era rimasto sul piatto. Era quello di Tommy. Si era dimenticato di buttare gli avanzi.

Miu tastò il terreno, era sgradevolmente bagnato, ma le bastò appoggiarsi con una singola zampa per arrivare ad afferare il pezzetto rimasto.

Lo prese in bocca e scese dal piano.

Le zampe le cedettero ancora, ma riuscì a non sbattere nuovamente il muso per terra.

Con andatura un po' barcollante si aggirò per la casa cercando il posto migliore per un pisolino.

Il divano era una buona opzione, oppure il letto sfatto di Tommy... ma alla fine si decise per la sua postazione preferita.

Tommy sapeva quanto le piacesse stare sul davanzale della finestra di camera sua, e per aiutarla le aveva lasciato una sedia appoggiata in modo che non dovesse fare un'unico balzo decisamente più impegnativo.

Tommy era speciale.

Miu saltò prima sulla sedia e poi sul suo amato davanzale.

Nonostante fosse inverno c'era sole, e i raggi riuscivano a scaldarla comunque.

Da quella postazione poteva vedere la strada di casa, da dove sarebbero rientrati tutti, prima o poi. Mangiò con calma il suo pezzettino di carne. Era molto buono.

La carne era un po' dura, quindi ci mise un po' a strapparla.

Le facevano male i denti.

Accidenti... Tommy le avrebbe spezzetato il cibo prima di darglielo. L'avrebbe accarezzata con delicatezza dicendole che era brava.

Quando si decideva a tornare?

Miu strappò la carne con fatica ma con soddisfazione.

Non aveva certo bisogno di lui per mangiare.

Erano anni che prendeva tutto il cibo che trovava in giro, di certo non avrebbe smesso adesso solo perché saltare sul ripiano era più difficile o perché i denti le facevano male.

Dopo mangiato si stiracchiò per bene e si accoccolò per riposare. I raggi del sole erano piacevoli sul suo manto scuro.

Il caldo le alleviava gli acciacchi, specialmente dopo tutti quegli sforzi.

Si assopì senza accorgeresene. Si svegliò per il freddo, visto che nel frattempo il sole si era spostato e i raggi adesso la colpivano solo a metà, lasciando le zampe posteriori al freddo. Si riposizionò, arrotolandosi su se stessa e facendosi più piccola.

Il calore del sole... era piacevole anche sulla pancia chiara.

Current Mood: nostalgic

Happy memories

Questa storia è stata scritta per il COWT 10, settimana 5, missione 2, Arizona (foto Grand Canyon)

parole: 353

warnings: nessuno

rating: SFW

It was a classic.

It was an adventure.

He was probably a bit too old to be this eager to spend time with his parents – being 14 already – but he had looked forward the travel. It was their first time visiting the Grand Canyon in Arizona.

They had camped along the road, he had taken turns with his mom to ride on the passenger seat beside his father.

The black jeep wasn't the best choice there in the south, but thankfully the air conditioner worked more than fine.

His Dad was saying...

“...I know, a plane would have been quicker, but we wouldn't enjoy the travel...”

“It was because you're scared of planes Dad, I know...”

“I never said that!”

“When have we ever took a plane to anywhere?”

“That's because...”

Will laughed like the little shit he was.

“You sure love making fun of your old man, uh? And I thought I could let you drive just a little, if we found the right place, I guess you're still too young for that...”

Will stopped laughing immediately.

“DAD! I'll be good, I swear!”

“Pft... I don't know...”

“...Nope, the light isn't right... stay where you are, I'll get a bit closer...”

Will sighed. It was too hot and hugging his dad for 5 minutes didn't help.

“Mom, I'll make a selfie with my phone, why bother with that old thing?”

“I want both, okay?”

“But you won't be in the photo! Come on...!”

“I just want to take a cute picture of my boys, alright? Stop being so annoying, Will”

His dad shook his head. Those kind of arguments were common.

“Will, you know she loves polaroids, you have to choose your battles wisely... this isn't one you can win so.. come on, just come here!”

His dad put a hand on his shoulder.

His mom was a few steps behind, her face half hidden by her old polaroid camera.

“Guys, say cheese!”

“Just this one time, dad...”

Will hugged his father, their chocolate brown hair shining lighter in the sun.

A warm embrace, two smiles, and the void behind.

Current Mood: cold

Entry tags:

paradox live

I'm on watch here, so close your eyes and get some rest

questa fic è stata scritta per il COWT 2020, settimana 4, missione 4, traccia "I'm on watch here, so close your eyes and get some rest"

Interpretazione del prompt:

letteralmente detto da un personaggio a un certo punto.
Valido perché i protagonisti sono dei gemelli che sono stati abbandonati dei genitori e vivono di espedienti, potendo contare su loro stessi. Altra cosa triste, si danno il cambio nel dormire in modo che uno dei due sia sempre vigile in caso di problemi. Hanno anche problemi a dormire separati in canon.

fandom: paradox live

parole: 680

rating: safe

warning: nessuno

Nayuta era preoccupato.

Il tempo stava peggiorando in fretta, e la tosse di Kanata non faceva che aumentare di conseguenza. Ma non avevano soldi neanche per un net cafè.

I loro vestiti non bastavano a proteggerli dal freddo della notte.

Se si fosse messo a piovere, la loro casetta di cartone sarebbe diventata melma.

“Resta qui Kanata, io... torno subito”

La mano di Kanata era fin troppo calda quando strinse la sua.

“Non andare... non lasciarmi solo.. non tu”

Solo la febbre faceva diventare Kanata così onesto... non era un buon segno.

“Non ti lascerei mai Kanata... te lo prometto, torno subito”

Kanata lo lasciò andare con riluttanza. I suoi occhi erano lucidi.

“Okay... ti aspetto qui...”

Nayuta se ne andò con passo sicuro, fingendo di sapere dove stava andando, o cosa volesse fare.

La verità era che non sapeva neanche lui che cazzo fare.

Il suo stomaco gorgogliava.

Era il primo ad aver freddo.

Avrebbe solo voluto addormentarsi per terra e non svegliarsi più.

Ma chi avrebbe pensato a Kanata se lui non ci fosse stato?

Non poteva abbandonarlo.

Non poteva cedere alla disperazione.

Erano sempre stati loro due contro tutti, da quando aveva memoria.

Quindi avrebbe trovato una soluzione.

Per Kanata.

Era piccolo, e la gente non faceva attenzione a lui.

Entrò in un negozio di abbigliamento, facendo finta di essere interessato alla merce.

Era a Kanata che piacevano i bei vestiti, per Nayuta ogni pezzo di stoffa poteva andare bene.

Fece attenzione ai clienti.

Una ragazzina aveva lo zainetto aperto.
Aveva circa la sua età.

Stava ridendo con le sue amiche mentre si divertivano a provarsi i vestiti.

Era distratta. E fortunata.

Grazie le sue dita agili fu un attimo infilare le mani nella tasca già semiaperta.

Le sue mani si strinsero attorno a qualcosa di morbido.

Se lo infilò in tasca senza neanche guardare.

Entrò in un altro negozio e si guardò in tasca. Era un portafoglio rosa.

Ci rovistò dentro. C'erano parecchie banconote... sicuramente la ragazzina aveva chiesto soldi ai suoi per fare compere.

Poverina, avrebbe dovuto rinunciare allo shopping per questa volta!

Nayuta prese i soldi e appoggiò il portafoglio su degli abiti. Sarebbe potuto sembrare che qualcuno avesse perso il portafogli mentre si provava qualche vestito.

Continuò il suo giro.

All'inizio aveva provato qualche rimorso a taccheggiare... ma adesso non provava più niente. Era un modo come un altro per trovare un posto dove stare.

Senza documenti, non aveva molta alternativa.

Dovette alleggerire un altro paio di persone prima di raccimolare abbastanza soldi per un net cafè e per le medicine di Kanata.

Non ci aveva messo più di un'ora. Stava migliorando.

Ma il sole stava tramontando, doveva sbrigarsi.

Non voleva che Kanata prendesse più freddo del dovuto.

Lo trovò esattamente come l'aveva lasciato.

Per fortuna la febbre non era salita.

Non lontano da lì c'era un net cafè dove erano già rimasti a dormire.

Era uno dei pochi che permetteva loro di dividere una singola postazione.

Diede a Kanata le medicine e gli mise il doppio delle coperte, mentre lui navigava su internet.

Doveva trovare un altro posto dove rimanere a dormire per il giorno dopo.

Kanata sembrò riprendersi dopo un po'. La febbre stava scendendo.

La sua voce era flebile quando gli chiese “Nayuta... sei ancora sveglio?”

“Sì, non ho sonno” Nayuta era troppo preoccupato per riuscire a dormire.

“Dai, ti do il cambio...”

“Sei distrutto. Per stavolta faccio io. Dormirò di giorno, quando starai meglio, ok?”

“Io... voglio aiutarti... invece sono solo un peso”

Ormai erano abituati a non dormire mai contemporaneamente, in modo che uno dei due fosse sempre allerta nel caso di pericolo.

“Kanata! Non dire così”

Nayuta lo abbracciò forte e gli baciò la fronte sudata.

“Tu sei la mia roccia, capito? Quindi chiudi gli occhi e riposati... faccio io la guardia”

“Uhm...” Kanata non sembrava troppo convinto, ma i suoi occhi si stavano già chiudendo.

“Okay, Nayuta... ”

Kanata si addormentò tra le sue braccia, mentre Nayuta gli accarezzava i capelli.

Si sarebbe preso cura di Kanata.

Doveva essere forte per lui.

“Ti voglio bene, Kanata...”

Current Mood: sad

Entry tags:

character death

Don't cry

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Current Mood: crazy

Entry tags:

Bello, bello in modo assurdo!

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Current Mood: geeky

Entry tags:

italiano

Fanboy

Una ragazzina strana era accovacciata davanti al negozio.

Aveva piovuto per ore e la libreria -non che il centro - erano completamente vuoti, e lui si stava annoiando a morte.

Non aveva potuto fare a meno di notarla.

Era da quasi venti minuti che tastava il terreno.

A volte alzava la testa, il suo sguardo vagava -e aveva pure incrociato il suo un paio di volte- ma poi ricominciava.

Alla fine si decise ad uscire e chiederle cosa stesse facendo.

"Tutto ok?"

"AH!" La ragazza si girò verso di lui, visibilmente angosciata, quasi sull'orlo delle lacrime. Boccheggiò per un momento, si morse il labbro.

Nel tono più imbarazzato possibile gli chiese "L-lei... ci vede bene?"

Di tutte le cose che la ragazza avrebbe mai potuto chiedere, quella non era una di quelle che si sarebbe aspettato.

Si trattenne molto dal ridere. Il tono assolutamente serio della ragazza - come se dalla qualità della sua vista dipendesse la sorte del mondo – lo mise a dura prova.

"...Sì?"

La ragazza sembrò estremamente felice della notizia - tirò un sospiro di sollievo, ma poi si rabbuiò di nuovo, tormentandosi le mani in un gesto di estremo nervosismo.

"Uhm... ho perso i miei occhiali... e dovrebbero essere più o meno in questa zona ma..." la ragazza deglutì, sbattè le palpebre per ricacciare indietro le lacrime, come se ammettere la situazione le costasse davvero molto, "ma non riesco a trovarli..."

Samuel poteva immaginare che la cosa potesse costituire un serio problema, ma trattenersi dal ridere era sempre più difficile.

Ecco che cosa stava facendo quella ragazza mentre tastava il pavimento bagnato come una matta.

"Non ti preoccupare, ti do una mano... come sono?"

"Sono grandi e neri, con le aste in metallo"

Samuel aguzzò la vista ed in effetti trovare un paio di occhiali neri contro il marciapiede bagnato di sera non era per niente facile.

"Ecco... mi scusi, ma... ho paura che sia finiti in quel buco..."

La ragazza indicò un punto li vicino.

Avevano fatto dei lavori poco tempo fa ma quello non era un buco aperto nel terreno: a ripararlo c'era un cono arancione, infilato con la punta a coprire il buco.

Samuel ci guardò per sicurezza ma no, non era possibile.

"No, no, qua non ci sono"

"aaah meno male... non avevo idea di quanto potesse essere profondo!"

Insieme cercarono un altro po' fino a quando Samuel non notò gli occhiali ripiegati e messi in un angolo vicino all'uscio della porta di una casa di fianco al negozio.

"Oh, eccoli qui!"

Samuel li prese e li porse alla ragazza, che si illuminò di gioia.

"Qualcun'altro li ha trovati e li ha messi al sicuro..."

La ragazza sembrò quasi tentata di infilarseli addosso ma si bloccò, a mezz'aria.

Erano sporchi e bagnati.

Due lacrime le rigarono il volto, stavolta per il solievo, e si voltò verso Samuel.

"Grazie mille, davvero"

E woah, quello si che era un ringraziamento sincero.

"Ma no, figurati... anzi... se vuoi puoi dargli una lavata nel negozio, così li puoi indossare subito”

Samuel le lasciò tutto il tempo necessario nel bagno dello staff.

Quando tornò la ragazza era raggiante.

“Grazie infinite!”

“Ma dai, cosa vuoi che sia...”

Ma la ragazza aveva smesso di parlare e lo fissava.

Dopo un momento di confusione Samuel si ricordò che giustamente la ragazza non l’aveva ancora potuto vedere in faccia prima di allora.

“MA TU SEI... WarwickoftheDark?!”

Woah, quel nome suonava assolutamente ridicolo detto ad alta voce... ma quando aveva creato il profilo non avrebbe immaginato un tale seguito.

“...Sì”

“Oooh mio Dio! Ti seguo da una vita!”

Detto da una quindicenne non voleva dire molto, ma era pur sempre una cosa carina da sentire.

“Grazie! Come ti chiami su instagram? Ti aggiungo!”

Non appena tornó a casa non potè non raccontare tutta la storia a Jane, la sua conquilina e migliore amica. Lei ormai stava cadendo dalla sedia dal ridere a sentire il suo racconto.

"MA LEI... CI VEDE BENE?! BWAHAHAH"

La risata squaiata di Jane era sempre una soddisfazione.

“Ommioddio Samuel, il tuo lavoro è troppo divertente”

“Concordo... e tu non hai visto la sua faccia quando mi ha detto” Samuel cambiò tono, usando una vocetta squillante “Troverò il modo di sdebitarmi, grazie infinite!”

“ahah, sembra una di quelle cose che dicono le creature magiche al protagonista, e che poi lo mettono ancora più nei guai di quanto già non fosse!”

Come al solito, Jane aveva più ragione di quello che pensava.

–

Thiago si allentò un poco il colletto della giacca.

Era tanto che non indossava abiti da nobile. Non si sentiva pienamente a suo agio... anche se forse era dovuto al fatto di essersi infiltrato nel castello del nemico durante una festa in maschera, dove essere scoperto equivaleva a una condanna a morte.

Cinthia d’altro canto sembrava nata per questo: riusciva a conversare amabilmente con tutti, il lungo vestito verde non le impediva i movimenti e nonostante la maschera molti si giravano a guardarla estasiati... i nobili avranno certamente avuto mille difetti, ma non si poteva criticarli per il pessimo gusto.

Eppure per quanto fosse splendida i abito da sera aderente e con i capelli raccolti che lasciavano scoperto il suo sensualissimo collo, Thiago la preferiva comunque con i capelli rossi sciolti e un po’ scompigliati, i pantaloni rattoppati e gli stivali sporchi di fango. Solo quando erano nella foresta Cinthia riusciva a fare un sorriso sincero, non come quello che sfoggiava ora mentre si fingeva interessata ai discorsi di qualche nobile attempato e viscido.

Era difficile distogliere lo sguardo da lei, eppure Thiago cercò Jotum per tutta la sala, fino a quando la macchia argentea dei suoi capelli non catturò la sua attenzione.

Eccolo, il mago più potente del regno: non sembrava aver messo troppa cura nel suo costume, i suoi capelli lunghi fin quasi alla vita e le sue orecchie appuntite erano ancora in bella vista, anche se in mezzo a tutta la gente in costume erano sicuramente meno vistose del solito.

Thiago sapeva che grazie ai medaglioni nemmeno lui poteva riconoscerli, eppure temeva che quei suoi occhi gialli come quelli di un gatto si soffermassero sulla sua amata Cinthia.

Amata... nemmeno nei suoi pensieri avrebbe dovuto permettersi certe libertà...

Lui era il suo cavaliere, il suo alleato fidato, forse addirittura un amico... ma nulla di più.

Lui la serviva perché doveva ripagare il suo debito, perché era la cosa giusta... anche solo serbare certi sentimenti impuri equivaleva a un tradimento.

Sapeva che i suoi sentimenti erano sbagliati, ma una parte di lui non poteva fare a meno di immaginare Cinthia tra le sue braccia... ma lei non l’avrebbe mai guardato con quel misto di felicità e tristezza... non come guardava Jotum.

Samuel era emozionatissimo, davanti allo schermo del pc, guardando la puntata insieme a Jane. Non poteva fare a meno di lanciarle occhiate durante le scene più importanti, troppo curioso della sua reazione...anche se Jane non sembrava altrettanto entusiasta.

“Nooo... povero Thiago! Ti consolo io amore mio”

Jane sospirò rassegnata, ma senza nascondere il suo disgusto.
“Mamma mia che schifo Samuel, contieniti! Non posso stoppare ogni volta che fai il fanboy! Questo episodio non finisce più”

Samuel la spintonò,o meglio cerco di spintonarla, vista l'evidente differenza di muscoli. il soprannome di Jane non era Amazzone per puro caso.

“Ma cosa stai dicendo?! 25 minuti sono troppo pochi!”

“Ok, tu hai già letto il manga, ma io ancora no...”

“E non sai cosa ti perdi! Te lo presto quando vuoi Jane!”

“Eh, adesso vediamo... questi triangoli amorosi non mi convincono... tanto è ovvio che Thiago non ha speranza”“Ma è questa la sofferenza vera!”

“Uhmm.... okay... sai a chi piacerebbe? A Pilar”

Samuel annuì. La ragazza di Jane aveva sempre buongusto,era stato lui ha introdurla al magico mondo del nerdismo puro, come lo chiamava lei, anche per darle una mano a conquistare Jane. Che amico sarebbe statoaltrimenti ti?
“Giusto, devo passarlo anche a lei... sicuramente potrebbe capirmi meglio di te”

“Ti supporto in tante cose Sam... ma io ho bisogno di più scene violente. Quando si menano è il top, ma ‘sta lagna mi fa cadere le braccia... VOGLIO IL SANGUE”

Samuel era sorpreso di quanta gente lo avesse fermato in fiera. Da quando si era scoperto che era un ragazzo i suoi follower erano aumentati vertiginosamente... tanto che adesso lo fermavano chiamandolo per nome e durante le esibizioni sentiva un coro di fanboys e fangirls... era un po’ imbarazzante ma anche molto lusinghiero.

Era bello incontrare anche gente nuova che amava le stesse cose... certo, c’era qualche hater ma quello era parte del gioco.

Samuel cercava di essere sempre il più possibile disponibile e gentile con tutti.

Una ragazza vestita da gothic lolita l’aveva fermato chiedendo di fare una foto insieme.

“Sembri davvero Cinthia... stupendo”

Samuel era sempre molto orgoglioso dei suoi costumi, che cuciva rigorosamente da solo. Aveva scelto la protagonista di Ferocious, un manga fantasy che lo aveva stregato dal primo volume, e l’aveva visto raggiungere l’apice della popolarità con l’anime che era attualmente arrivato alla terza stagione. Un vero successo.

Il suo costume era quello di una scena in cui la protagonista Cinthia, si travestiva per andare a indagare nel castello dell’antagonista. Quella scena era famosa proprio perché i due si ritrovavano a ballare insieme.

“Grazie!”

“Ti seguo, quindi so che Ferocious è il tuo manga preferito, ma qual è il tuo personaggio preferito? Cinthia?”

“Beh... Cinthia è il personaggio che sento mi assomigli di più, ma se dovessi scegliere il mio preferito sarebbe senz’altro Thiago!”

“Oooh Thiago... perché non fai un cosplay anche di lui?”“Oh, mi piacerebbe, ma sarei solo la sua versione bianca e senza muscoli! Non gli renderei giustizia, sarebbe un peccato!”

“Ma no dai… tu forse non ti ricordi, anzi, penso che sia difficile dimenticarsi una cosa del genere… io sono quella ragazza che aveva perso gli occhiali davanti alla libreria”

Samuel la guardò meglio. Era completamente diversa rispetto alla prima volta in cui l’aveva incontrata in tuta, di sera e in preda all’ansia, ma era effettivamente lei.

“Hai ragione! Hai anche gli stessi occhiali!”

La ragazza arrossì un poco e gli diede un pacchettino.

“Tieni, questo è per sdebitarmi…”

“Ma no figurati, divertiti alla fiera!”

“Ti prego, accettalo!”

Samuel aprì il pacchetto – come da istruzioni - a casa, appena prima di andare a dormire. Era un acchiappa-sogni… più o meno. Il design era simile, chiaramente fatto a mano. Adorabile. Lo appese vicino al letto, e si addormentò dopo una lunga giornata di fiera.

Thiago stava studiando i nobili, cercando di individuare il loro alleato segreto, ma una voce lo distolse dalle sue riflessioni.Una voce delicata, come di una fanciulla.

Non riusciva a distinguere le parole, ma avevano una loro musicalità.

L’unica cosa che riusciva a distinguere era il suo stesso nome, ripetuto infinite volte.

“Che cosa?!”

Eppure nessun’altro sembrava sentire quella voce.

Si voltò, cercando di individuare la fonte, fino a quando non notò una figura più bassa in mezzo alla gente. Indossava vestiti di una foggia che non aveva mai visto.

“Tu! Cosa vuoi da me?”

“Thiago Aragona... tu, cavaliere senza macchia, sei stato scelto per ripagare un debito. Tu, compirai la tua missione. Tu sarai l’emissario della mia riconoscenza... tu solo, puoi farcela”

“Tu vaneggi! Che cosa dovrebbe significare?! Cinthia... Cinthia!”

–

NELLO STESSO MOMENTO, IN GIAPPONE, TOKYO

Ayakou stava disegnando la copertina per la rivista del mese sul suo tablet.

Era un po’ che non capitava ma il suo Ferocious era salito ancora nella classifica grazie a questo nuovo arco narrativo incentrato su Thiago.

Ormai non mancava molto alla fine della serie – anche se questo per lei e la sua squadra di assistenti significava almeno altri due anni di lavoro.

Era emozionante... questa era la serie che l’aveva consacrata al mainstream dopo anni di carriera nei Boy’s Love (che amava tutt’ora, ovviamente non rinnegava le sue radici, ma aveva sentito la necessità di ampliare i suoi orizzonti).

Lei amava lo shojo vecchio stile, quello che non aveva nulla da invidiare agli shonen più crudi.

Il soggetto della copertina era un Thiago in posa plastica, i capelli ricci e bianchi facevano un bel contrasto con la sua pelle scura, le sue cicatrici che brillavano insieme alla sua spada... erano effetti difficili da rendere in bianco e nero, per cui doveva assolutamente approfittare delle pagine a colori o le copertine.

Ormai aveva finito, voleva giusto accentuare qualche riflesso...

Con particolare attenzione mise un punto di luce sugli occhi grandi e verdi di Thiago.

“Ok, finito!”

Aya sospirò, stiracchiandosi. Era sempre una soddisfazione finire una copertina.

Ci aveva messo due giorni a disegnare solo quella, ma ne era valsa la pena.

Si stropicciò gli occhi un po’ arrossati dopo tante ore a fissare il tablet ma quando gli riaprì rimase come paralizzata.

Il tablet era completamente bianco.

Il suo cuore mancò un battito.

Aveva salvato, giusto?

Ma il tablet non sembrava avere niente che non andasse, semplicemente il foglio su cui aveva lavorato per ore era completamente bianco, come se non avesse ancora iniziato a fare niente.

Pensando di aver aggiunto un nuovo foglio per sbaglio, controllò bene ma tutti i livelli erano spariti.

Non solo quelli del colore, ma anche il disegno di base non c’era più.

Ricontrollò per bene – almeno quello doveva pur esserci, aveva fatto una copia di back up il giorno prima... ma no.

“Ho appena cancellato due giorni di lavoro?!”

“Maestra Yokawa!”

Il tono d’allarme della sua assistente Himawari la preoccupò ancora di più.

“Himawari?”“è successa una cosa terribile, non so come sia possibile, ma 25 tavole sono sparite!”

“Cosa? Cosa significata sparite?”

“Ogni copia è stata eliminata... come se non avessimo fatto nulla!”

“Mi stai dicendo che due settimane e mezzo di lavoro sono state cancellate da qualunque dispositivo?!”

Ayakou si alzò tremando dalla sedia e controllò di persona su ogni tablet.

A Murata, il nuovo assistente, tremò la voce quando le disse.

“Mi dispiace maestra,... però 7 tavole finite si sono salvate e quelle ancora da finire sono intatte!”

Ayako guardò bene le tavole sopravvissute: il flashback di Cinthia bambina nella foresta dove incontrava Jotum per la prima volta... grazie al cielo la foresta era intatta. Murata aveva curato interamente quegli sfondi.

Ma tutte le scene di Thiago erano sparite, il primo incontro...

Ayako chiuse gli occhi per un attimo, respirando a fondo.

Non poteva cedere alla disperazione di fronte ai suoi assistenti.

“Abbiamo metà del tempo per ridisegnare tutto... dobbiamo farcela!”

–

Samuel si sveglio riposato, anche se un po’ accaldato.

Era steso di fianco e un braccio possente lo teneva bloccato.

Ma lui era andato a letto da solo.

Si mise in piedi talmente in fretta che gli girò la testa e il movimento improvviso fece sobbalzare il letto tanto da far cadere anche l’altro occupante.

Samuel non poteva credere hai sui occhi.

Belle ambrata decorata da tatuaggi di un’impossibile color bianco azzurrato, capelli bianchi e ricci,occhi grandi e verdi…

“Thiago?!”

Ma non era possibile… quello doveva per forza essere un altro cosplayer.

“Vattene subito fuori da cosa mia!”

“Dove sono… cos’è successo?” Thiago sembrava ancora più confuso di lui.

La sua voce… era molto strana.

Samuel l’aveva già sentita, anche se non riusciva esattamente a collocarla.

Aveva un leggero accento… giapponese?

Ad Ayako era mancata quella tensione... la paura di sbagliare un colpo di pennino e rovinare tutto, il timore di fare un abbinamento sbagliato di colori... era tanto che non disegnava completamente in tradizionale.

Aveva optato per una posa completamente diversa – il pensiero di dover fare esattamente la stessa immagine di prima le faceva venire uno strano tic all’occhio.

“Ok, finit-”

Non ebbe il tempo di pensarlo che il disegno scomparve davanti ai suoi occhi.

Il foglio era immacolato.

Ayakou tastò la superficie, ma non sentiva neanche i solchi dove la punta del pennino era passata a graffiare la superficie.

Davvero il foglio non sembrava essere stato ancora toccato.

Ayakou face uno strano, inquietante suono gutturale che fece girare tutti e due i suoi assisenti.

Ayakou si alzò, bevette una bottiglietta di acqua per intero.

Stava impazzendo.

Questa era l’unica conclusione a cui riusciva ad arrivare.

Un conto erano i dati che si cancellavano a causa di un malfunzionamento, ma questo era qualcosa di completamente diverso.

Ultimamente stava davvero dormendo poco, e a volte si dimenticava persino di mangiare... forse era per quello che la sua mente le giocava brutti scherzi.

Ayakou rise per un lungo momento, i suoi assistenti si girarono a guardarla preoccupati.

“Sì è cancellato ancora...io dormo”

Ayakou non aggiunse altro, semplicemente si appoggiò sul divano, si tirò su la coperta fin sopra la testa e senza dire altro si addomermentò di colpo.

–

“Oh mio Dio… sei veramente Thiago”Non era semplicemente un cosplayer.

Aveva provato a tirargli via i capelli ma non era una parrucca.

E i suoi tatuaggi si illuminavano davvero… come una lucciola.

Il suo personaggio preferito era davvero davanti a lui in carne ed ossa.

“Ho letto abbastanza manga da sapere che questa cosa non può funzionare! Non voglio affezionarmi a te per poi starci male! TI RIMANDO INDIETRO!”

“Dov’è Cinthia!? Fatemi tornare da lei, vi prego”

Era stata dura spiegare a Thiago tutto, ma in qualche modo ce l’aveva fatta.

Era surreale per entrambi, ma tutt’e due l’avevano accettato con serenità.

Thiago propose, “Dai, allora andiamo dalla Creatrice! Forse grazie a lei potremmo scoprire un modo per farmi tornare a casa!”“Un’ottima idea, ma è impossibile”“Impossibile? Ho appena scoperto di essere un personaggio in una storia che è stato catapultato in un’altra dimensione ma andare a trovare un altra persona in questa realtà, è impossibile?”

“Lo so, detto così suona strano ma ti assicuro che sì, è impossibile. Non ho abbastanza soldi”“Uh?”“Te lo spiego meglio. Lei abita in Giappone. Quindi sono due biglietti per il Giappone da prendere un giorno per l’altro... e già qui potrei fermarmi, ma continuiamo. Tu non hai documenti, sei un clandestino, e non ho idea di quanto tempo ci voglia per poter sistemare la cosa. E anche a prenderne di falsi – cosa che non ho idea di come si faccia, di solito nei film è un montaggio velocissimo – senza dubbio costa un fior di soldi. E poi, ok un paio di giorni di permesso, ma non posso andarmene e mollare il lavoro per chissà quanto. Quindi no, non è un’opzione. Bisogna pensare ad altro”.

“Non ho capito la metà delle cose che hai detto... cos’è il Giappone?”Samuel fece un lungo sospiro, accarezzandosi le tempie.

“In breve: un paese molto lontano, molto costoso, e molto bello… dobbiamo trovare un’opzione alternativa”

Samuel si schiaffeggiò la faccia, cercando di concentrarsi “Ok, abbiamo poco tempo, andare dalla tua autrice non è una via praticabile… ma come a tutto c’è una soluzione logica. Analizziamo la situazione. Raccontami tutto quello che ti ricordi dei tuoi ultimi momenti nel tuo mondo. Hai visto o sentito qualcosa di strano?”“Uhm… ero nel castello di Jotum, nella sala da ballo. C’era un sacco di gente in costume, ovviamente. Cinthia era a qualche metro davanti a me. All’improvviso ho sentito una voce, ma forse era solo nella mia testa, perché nessun’altro sembrava notarla. Poi ho notato una ragazza strana. Le sue vesti erano di una fattura sconosciuta. Aveva i capelli neri, non indossava una maschera ed era molto bassa”Samuel si illuminò a quelle parole, cercò ‘gothic lolita’ sul telefono e lo mostrò a Thiago.

“Una cosa del genere?!”

“Uhm..Sì”

“Allora è stata lei! Ok, grazie Thiago!”“Cosa vuoi fare?”“Potremmo metterci ad analizzare quello scaccia-sogni, o cercare in qualche biblioteca abbandonata, o fare tentativi inutili… oppure posso messaggiare la responsabile di tutto questo casino su Instagram”.

“Instacosa?”

Warwickofthedark:Ciao! Grazie per il tuo regalo ma voglio rimandarlo indietro, come si fa?

FrizzyKitty20: Ma è il mio regalo per te...

Warwickofthedark: Posso chiamarti? Anzi, ti do il mio indirizzo, vieni a casa mia.

Qualsiasi conversazione era meglio di fronte a una tazza di te.

“Frizzykitty, per favore, riportalo a casa. Questa situazione è un casino”

Thiago si mise in ginocchio di fronte alla ragazzina.“La prego Lady Frizzykitty, devo salvare una persona!”

“Chiamatemi Natascia… comunque c’è un limite a quello che posso fare”
“HAI APPENA TRASPORTATO UN PERSONAGGIO DI FANTASIA NEL MONDO REALE, E MI DICI CHE HAI DEI LIMITI?!”

Samuel si stava già preoccupando. Aveva già letto fin troppe fanfiction per non sapere dove questo sarebbe andato a parare. Sacrifici di sangue? Scopate?

Thiago in carne ed ossa era ancora più bello di quanto non fosse disegnato. Era molto pericoloso stargli accanto.

“Devi baciarlo”“CHE COSA?! Oh.” Samuel si massaggiò il mento, “ Tutto qua? Pensavo peggio” Thiago arrossì un poco, abbassando lo sguardo, “Non posso accettare, Sir Samuel. Il mio corpo e la mia anima appartengono solo alla mia signora”

Samuel diventò paonazzo. “OVVIAMENTE SE TU NON VUOI NON SI FA, NON CHE IO ABBIA ALCUNA VOGLIA DI BACIARTI, ERA SOLO PER DARTI UNA MANO, NON SONO IO CHE TI HO TRASCINATO QU-”

“O è quello, o è sesso, mi dispiace” disse Frizzykitty, facendo l’occhiolino a Samuel.

Samuel si alzò di scatto e trascinò Natasha nel bagno.

"Dobbiamo parlare, scusa Thiago"

Una volta nel bagno, Natasha si sistemò gli occhiali e chiese, "perché non sei contento Samuel? Io volevo solo sdebitarmi portandoti la tua fantasia sessuale nel nostro mondo ma qualcosa sembra essere andato storto... perché lui non è innamorato di te? Avevo fatto in modo che lo fosse..."

"FANTASIA SESSU... UHM. .. ok , non so bene come funzioni la tua magia, o quello che è ma da qual poco, davvero troppo poco,che ho capito... lui è come me lo immagino io, giusto?
L'idea che ho io di lui?"

"Sì, più o meno..."

"Allora è per quello... adoro i personaggi come lui, bellissimi e con un passato tragico, tutti d'un pezzo, pudici... nella fantasia.
Nella realtà è tutto un altro discorso.. e per quanto a me lui piaccia... lo preferisco con Cinthia... vorrei che lei lo ricambiasse più di ogni cosa.. mi sentirei come se andassi a letto con la fidanzata della mia migliore amica. Imperdonabile.
E se lui potesse amare qualcuno che non fosse Cinthia... mi deluderebbe. Tutti i sacrifici che ha fatto, la sua lealtà... tutto perderebbe di significato.
Vorrei che almeno nella fantasia, esistesse qualcuno di così ammirevole"

"... riassunto: tu non vuoi affondare la tua ship perché sei un fanboy"

"OKAY, se vuoi metterla così sei libera di farlo... non distruggeró ciò in cui credo solo per poter andare a letto con un bel ragazzo!"

Natascia scosse la testa, delusa.
"Fanboy"

Più che un bacio c’era stato bisogno di un’intensa scena di petting – e Natascia non aveva distolto lo sguardo un solo attimo.

Thiago era rimasto impressionato dall’abilità di Samuel.

Mentre scompariva in un mare di luce, gli sorrise.

“Ho avuto un’ottimo maestro”“Sperando che la usi quest’abilità… e diglielo che le vai dietro da una vita, che cavolo!”Thiago distolse lo sguardo.“… non posso prometterlo. Addio”

–

“Ok, ripeti insieme a me perché quello che hai fatto è sbagliato, Natascia”“Il fatto che sia il tuo personaggio preferito non vuol dire che tu voglia farci sesso. Amare un personaggio e AMARE un personaggio sono due cose diverse”.

“Niente male,anche se io avrei voluto un po’ più di enfasi sul fatto che piegare le leggi dell’universo come carta da origami non sia una mossa intelligente”.

“piegare le leggi dell’universo, anche se con buone intenzioni e per ripagare un enorme debito, è sbagliato”

“NO! NO! Non ripetere a pappagallo quello che ti dico, devi capirlo!

Ugh… apprezzo le buone intenzioni tesoro, è solo che non si può… lui era il primo a voler tornare a casa. Non voglio tenere nessuno prigioniero a casa mia… né nel mio mondo, se per questo.

Io adoro Thiago perché è leale, si impegna sempre tantissimo, ha un suo codice d’onore che rispetta sempre… ed è innamorato di Cinthia, talmente tanto che sopporta vederla amoreggiare con un altro uomo.

Queste sono le qualità che vorrei trovare negli essere umani”

“Anche io… le persone come te sono rare Samuel… avrei voluto coccolarti un’altro po’...”“Grazie, ma no… aspetta, cosa intendevi dire?”–

NELLO STESSO MOMENTO, A TOKYO

Ayako si risvegliò in un futon.

Non ricordava come ci era finita.

Si alzò tutta indolenzita e in cucina trovò Himawari.

“Maestra! Che solievo vederla alzata…”

“In che senso?”“Ha dormito per più di due giorni di fila! La cosa non mi sorprende, ultimamente stava lavorando davvero molto, maestra...”“DUE GIORNI?!” Ayako si risvegliò dal torpore, correndo fino al calendario.

“Siamo indietro! Abbiamo più di metà delle tavole ancora da fare! Come fai a essere così calma, Himawari?!”“Come? Ah, non si preoccupi maestra,sono riapparse. Credo che fossimo tutti molto, molto stanchi...”“Che cosa?! Questo è… fantastico. Ma non è questo il punto… com’è possibile che tutti noi abbiamo avuto la stessa allucinazione?”

“Un mistero maestra, un vero mistero. Ma non possiamo farci niente, se non essere grati che tutto si sia risolto per il meglio…”

–

GRAZIE PER AVER LETTO FEROCIOUS! LA MAESTRA AYAKO E I SUOI ASSISTENTI SI PRENDERANNO UN MESE DI STACCO, MA TORNERANNO ALLA GRANDE TRA DUE MESI!

GRAZIE PER LA VOSTRA COMPRENSIONE

–

Thiago cercò Cinthia in mezzo alla folla… non l’avrebbe mai più lasciata sola.

Entry tags:

female protagonist

Thorn of Ironbone

It was another boring night of winter.

It was too late and too cold to play outside.

Clover was on her bed, holding the lute in her skinny arms, a disturbing melody coming from the instrument.

“... the Hero entered the cave... he walked over the bones of the ones that had failed before him...”

Rose, with a wooden sword in her hand, was walking around the room looking at the floor with carefully disguised fear. She avoided all the stuffed toys they had scattered around. She stopped in horror mid-step, continuing her sister story.

“... he felt something soft under his feet, and he glanced down – you should never look down, but he did – what he saw almost drew him mad!”

Clover quickened the melody and screamed.

“NOOOO! It couldn’t be! -BUT IT WAS-”

She stopped playing for a moment. She smirked before adding:

“It was him. His mentor”

“NOO!” Rose lost the grip from her sword at once and fell on her knees dramatically.

She started sobbing, and made the gesture of cradling something in her arms.

Clover started playing again, a song of pure sorrow that mixed together with the sobs of her sister and the raindrops hitting the windows.

“... or better, the only thing that remained of him. The Hero knelt and caressed the severed head of his lost Mentor... he remembered their last conversati-...”

Orick bursted in, interrumpting them.

“What the hell?! You’re too loud! You’re creeping me out!”

“OOOOOH COME ON!” the two sisters protested in unison.

“Why you always do this when the best part comes in?!”

“I don’t care, just shut up and go to bed already!”

“It’s not true! Thor loves our stories!” Rose said, defensive.

“Well, Thor isn’t here so you have to do what I say!” Orick remarked, pointing at himself.

“You aren’t the oldest! And you aren’t Father either!” Rose looked down on him as much as she could as he was a lot taller than her.

“Well, I’m the older RIGHT NOW so I make the rules!”

“You’re so boring, Orick...” Clover singhed.

“You better go to sleep if you don’t want that stupid sword to disappear...AND that lute too”

“YOU CAN’T! THEY’RE GIFTS FROM THOR!”

“You think Father would give a damn?”

Rose and Clover immediately put their most precious possessions away, and Rose hid in bed with her sister.

“Are you satisfied, Orick?!”

Orick’s smug smile was unnerving.

“That’s better! Goodnight, little creeps!”

---

Rose loved fencing. When she had finally started having lessons alongside her brothers, she almost cried from happiness.

Their father wouldn’t have approved of course, but he came to visit once a year so it wasn’t a real problem.

Thor had welcomed her enthusiasm, while Orick couldn’t understand her fascination.

“Tsk, I hate fencing, you can get away with it and you want to do this kind of stuff? What’s the point? You’ll get married and just have a bunch of children like mother did in the end!”

Rose had the impression that their behaviour had contributed to their teacher’s decision of accepting her as a student.

She had mistook the man insecurities... he was opposed about the idea of doing it behind Lord Ironbone, not to have a girl as as a student.

“Where I come from, women fight alongside men in battle... I don’t see nothing wrong about it actually. You’re ten already, is a perfect age to start” Romualdo had explained, “But please, I don’t want to get fired, so this will be a secret, okay?”

“Sure!” Thor and Rose had agreed in unison. Orick spat on the background.

Rose remembered little of their mother – the only thing that remained of her was a giant portrait in the saloon.

A noble woman that had died after giving birth to two pair of fraternal twins, in the span of less than three years.

If it was for their father, she could have stopped at the first male, probably.

Thor was the only one he actually cared about... Orick was just some kind of replacement if something were to happen to Thor.

The sisters were just there... nothing of note, but one or two more good connections weren’t bad either.

Rose had feared his wrath at first, as he was quick to anger and wasn’t lenient of slaps and hits at his older brothers, especially Orick. But mostly he didn’t cast the sisters much more than a passing glance.

But she realized that it wasn’t like their father approved of their interests, he just didn’t care enough to stop them.

She felt glad she could keep fencing, and Clover playing her beloved lute.

He still paid for their education, bringing tutors from the main land and they had servants to attend them.

---

It was an unusual bright day of summer and Rose was training with her older brother.

She was breathing heavily, sweating and dirty when an eerie melody started playing, so she glanced up. Clover was playing her lute on the edge of the window, up in the tower of the castle.

“Stand up, Rose!”

She looked back to his brother Thor. He had finally come back from the war, a few more scars but otherwise well and even stronger. Their Father was well too, but she didn’t care as much for him.

“Retrieve your sword. You’re dead if you don’t have a weapon”

Thor’s advise was serious, even if said with a gentle tone.

He kept swinging his sword, the sun hitting the blade and making it glisten, showing her a new figure.

Rose let out a frustrated sigh, looking for her own that was stuck on the ground a few feet behind her. An actual sword, not a toy.

“You’re improving, you know? It’s a pity women can’t fight in battles. I think you’re more gifted then a lot of men I have seen.”

“If old guys are all like Father, it’s no wonder!”

“Well, I could choose you as a personal guard when I’ll be a captain... I’ll need someone I could trust”

“Really?”

“It depends on how good you get. If I find someone better suited...”

“I’ll be the best! I swore it”

Thor smiled at her, getting in a perfect stance, waiting for her to attack.

She breathed deeply and came at him.

Rose had taken the lessons very seriously.

She admired her older brother Thor, he was just a three years older then her, but he was tall, strong and kind.

It didn’t surprise her when he started training with a real sword, while she kept using a wooden one.

That didn’t mean she had given up.

She didn’t have any intention to be left behind.

That challenge didn’t seem to interest Orick in the least, and he actually ditched the lessons, threatening to tell their secret to Father if they didn’t let him.

Without Orick’s inability to make her feel better, she had to train even more.

At fourteen Romualdo finally let her use a real sword.

She felt confident.

She was taller – almost reaching her brother’s impressive stature – stronger.

Now they could stand on the same ground.

She was telling that during dinner, eating with all her siblings when Orick interrupted her, speaking with his mouth full of steak.

“You should do a contest then, since you’re so good” Orick’s words hang in air.

“I know you’re telling her this for the wrong reasons, but I think it would be interesting, Rose! I think you can do it!” Clover smiled at her, patting her shoulder with her delicate hands.

“Are you sure, Rose? I don’t want to hurt you...” Thor didn’t seem too keen on that.

“Thor! Don’t offend me talking like that!”

“Then we should do it when Romualdo is around, don’t you think?”

“Let’s do it now”

The sun was setting when they all walked out of mason and to the gardes, but the wind was still warm. Clover looked nervous, and Orick just had his usual smug smile, slouched by a near tree. Thor had agreed at the condition that they would use wooden swords.

Rose was disappointed, but had accepted the condition.

“So, this is easy. No dirty moves – but I know you’re good, so you won’t do it – no actual wounds - because we’ll get in trouble – and the first one that has the chance for a fatal hit is the winner!”

Clover softly said.

“Understood!” Both of them agreed in unison.

Rose had her back to the forest just outside the mason, while Thor to the castle. They kept their eyes fixed of Clover, waiting for her sign.

“Begin!” Clover raised a hand and shout.

They started circling one another, looking for an opening.

Thor was still conflicted, but he was the one that came at her.

When she met his blade and deflected it easily, she screamed and started hitting him with all her strength.

“You aren’t taking this seriously, do you?!”

Tears almost fell from her eyes and she batted them away. She would shrug Orick’s comments without a second thought, but that attitude was unbearable coming from Thor.

“Are you looking down on me, Thor?! You can’t! Not you!”

Thor looked hurt, and shouted “It’s not that!”

She circled him and almost had his back but he turned just in time.

He looked sad when he intercepted her hit, disarmed her, throwing her sword away.

Far away from her, Clover or Orick.

Rose fell on the ground.

Their battle had lasted two minutes if not less.

Their difference in strength was evident.

For once, even Orick didn’t made a comment.

Thor helped her standing up again and hugged her.

She tried to get away from him but for the first time he used his full strength to keep her at place.

“Next year... I’ll challenge you again next year!” Rose said, her pride hurting more than her body.

She had trained the hardest in her life.

Replaying the match in her mind countless times, she analized her mistakes.

Rose loved summer. It meant more sun and that Cecil would come at the castle.

Rose was waiting on a tree, looking carefully, hoping to see a carriage in the distance.

“Where is he, where is he already?!”

“Are you talking about our tutor? Or about our cousin? I wonder...” Clover smiled knowingly looking up at her from the base of the tree, a giant book on her legs.

“Who gives a damn about that old man! WHERE IS MY CECIL?!”

Rose wasn’t in love of course. It was perfectly normal to be excited to meet her cousin and fiancée.

Cecil was the fifth son of their uncle from their mother’s side.

He spent most of the year in the main land, but his parents let him spend the summers with them.

Last year he couldn’t go because of an illness, but this year things seemed fine.

Rose almost fell from the tree when she actually saw him in the distance.

She was the first one to greet him as soon as he stepped out of the carriage.

“Cecil!”

She hugged him, and she actually lifted him for a moment.

He laughed.

“What a warm welcome, Rose!”

He was a couple years older than them, and now at seventeen he really started to look like a man.

A very, very beautiful man.

He patter her head “You had a leaf in your hair, look”

He showed it to her getting a bit too close.

He had freckles and long blond lashes like the rest of the family, but his hair was blond and his eyes blue instead of green.

“I-I didn’t notice...” Rose felt warm even if she was wearing light clothes. “You... you’re a lot taller now, uh?”

Cecil’s smile had never looked that good before. “You too, Rose... I missed you”

---

Rose, Clover and Cecil were in the gardens. Clover and Cecil were reading a book and Rose was practising with her sword, hitting her wooden mannequin carefully stuck in the ground.

Another gift from their oldest brother, of course.

After finishing another section perfectly, Rose threw herself on the grass.

“Things are so boring without Thor...”

“Oh, so we’re boring?”

“Of course not! I love being with you! It’s just... there’s no one I can practise with...”

“I’m sorry, I’m no match for you...” Cecil seemed genuinely sad about it. He was seventeen now, almost an adult, and yet he couldn’t lift a sword.

He was tall but slim, and his delicate hands were more capable with herbs and books than any weapon.

“Don’t worry Cecil! You’re perfect like this! And you’re very good with the arch too!” Rose thought it was a pity, but she didn’t want him to get a scar on his beautiful face or anything like that. “And you can’t be worse than Orick in any case! He almost cut his foot last time he tried to take my sword!”

Clover laughed at that “Oh for real, that was really funny! He was trying to hide it...”

Rose laughed “He really gets ahead of himself when Father and Thor aren’t around, but this sword knows its master!”

Rose showed off her new sword. Since she had grown a lot, her brother had gifted her one made especially for her.

Cecil admired it, looking amazed. “Wow! Can I touch it?”

Rose blushed a little from the attention “Of course! But be careful, it’s sharp”

Cecil fingertips caressed the blade, its decorations and the crest of the Ironbone House.

“Wow, it even has the family emblem! So cool...” His fingers brushed Rose’s hand and she gripped the hilt even harder.

“Y-yeah, right?” Rose interrupted the contact and showed him some figures Thor had taught her. As always her figure was perfect.

“You make it look like a dance, Rose”

Clover jumped in the conversation, a big smile on her face.

“So... about dancing...You know what we could do?”

Rose and Cecil looked at her, tilting their head.

“What?”

“You know, we could go at the festival of Mid Summer!”

“But we can’t go to the village!” Rose said delighted.

“People from all the country... no, even foreigners come!” Clover closed the book loudly.

“Oh, Orick is gonna get sooo mad!” Rose jumped from excitement.

Clover put an index finger on her lips.

“Only if he finds out!”

“This is a terrible idea” Cecil crossed his arms “I have to stop you”

Rose would have been worried if she hadn’t seen Cecil’s grin while we was saying those words.

Rose was proud of herself.

She had sneaked on the servants’ room and had found ordinary clothes.

“This is an adventure! I’m so excited! How do I look?”

Clover was wearing a brown muddy dress, her hair parted in two big braids.

“What a lovely peasant!” Rose approved “And I?”.

“Why did you choose male clothes, Rose?” Cecil asked.

She had took them without even thinking about it. Rose looked at herself in the mirror and at Clover. They had the same red hair and freckles all over their pale skin, but aside from that they didn’t resemble one another that much.

“They’re more comfortable? And we’ll get less attention like this, I guess”

“I think it suits you, Rose” Cecil nodded. He looked good even in simple clothes. He took off his hat to place it on Rose’s head.

“Oh. Perfect! That was the finishing touch!” Clover approved.

After dinner, they sneaked out.

Cecil had some money with him, and they used their horses to get to the village.

Orick looked at them by the window with disdain, but didn’t stop them.

He prepared a brown old mantel and an ugly hat, so very unlike the fancy style he favoured.

“What fools...”

---

Rose had never paid much attention to the way she looked – but... Cecil was too beautiful, when he walked, every head turned in his direction. Of course they would.

And Clover too, she was petite with a small nose and big eyes, and her long red hair was wavy and shiny.

When Clover was too tired of walking, Cecil walked arm in arm with her. They looked like a beautiful couple. The ones writers wrote stories about – stories Rose used to find boring.

She didn’t want to waste the little time she had thinking about useless things, so she consentrated of her surroundings.

The village was full of lanterns and decorations, bards played at every corner, people danced and talked loudly.

It was different, overwhelming.

Amazing.

A man with a generous belly, dressed in bright colours shouted at the crowd:

“Hello, young lads! Who wants to win? There’s a good prize for the winner of the Young Swordman Contest!”

Rose stopped mid step.

A bunch of guys was waiting excitedly on line.

“Please sign up for the Contest! You just have to tell your name and age!”

Rose touched the hilt of her sword to check if it was still there.

She turned to her sister and cousin, a dangerous smile on her face.

“Clover, Cecil... I’m gonna do it!”

“Hello, young lad, what’s your name?”

“I’m....” she coundn’t say her real name, could her? Something closer, but not quite... “Thorn”

“Good, good... age?”

“15”

“Well.. you can choose one from this wooden swords, first come first served”

“What, wooden swords?! I thought this was a contest!”

“Ahah, that is just for the first round... you should go easy with the weak ones, uh?”

Cecil and Clover watched from afar, with the overgrowing crowd that stopped to enjoy the show and place their bets.

Rose looked at the guys that were in the contest.

The organizer didn’t seem to be too picky: there were boys no more than twelve, as large, tall boys with some beard already.

That explained the wooden swords at least.

The people watching were half drunk already. It wasn’t really a serious contest as much as a way to pass the time.

Still she looked forward to fight with someone that wasn’t his brother or his instructor.

Was she really good or not?

“Good evening to all! I’m Bjorn, I present to you this young contestants! It’s a tradition of the festival to show off the future champions of our army! Well, well, who is going to win this challenge? We’ll pair you up with this one!” The man that collected their information was holding a grain sachet. His voice was clear and loud, so strong that he could be heard over the chaos of the crowd “Here I put all your names in paper, five of you will pick one and get your chosen opponent. A good fighter also needs some luck, of course! If you pick your own name you’ll choose another”

Rose felt unlucky. She had gotten one of the smaller children.

She sent him flying in moments, trying not to hurt him. The other matches went just as quick, and she reached the final match with no effort.

The next round was finally a true contest. The man also proceeded to comment.

“Here we have Thorn versus Wolfgang! Who will win? Bets are open! Thorn is smaller and quicker, but Wolfgang is taller and stronger!”

Bjorn knew something about sword fighting.

His comments were spot on, focusing on some technique – or lack there of.

Wolfgang used a longer sword. Thorn would need to get closer if she wanted to win.

But she was used to fight taller people.

She wasn’t scared in the least.

Her opponent had the same smug smile she had. She would make sure to brush it off.

The guy in front of her swung his sword at her.

“You look pretty full of yourself, little one”

Rose laughed at that. She was taller than any other woman he had seen, and as tall as a good half of the men in the crowd.

Bjorn acknowledged their exchange, probably lost on the people watching them.

“Thorn laughs at the scorn of Finn! Is he confident or is he a fool? We’re going to find out soon! Start!”

Finn run to her, swinging his sword.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his intentions, the direction of his hit obvious. That made Rose laugh even more. She dodged the hit at the last second and a swirl that was more dancing than fighting.

Finn fell on his face, but Rose didn’t take advantage of that weakness and let him the time to stand up again. His nose was dripping blood that dirtied his already messy clothes.

“Oh! You’re bleeding and I didn’t even touch you” Thorn said.

With that, the match was already decided. Finn had lost himself to rage and Thorn didn’t really saw him as a worthy opponent but more like a wooden dummy, perfect to vent all of her sadness, anger and frustration.

Bjorn gave her a cheap medal, and the prize – some copper and metal pin – but what made Rose truly happy was the crowd cheering for her. It was the first time her ability was acknowledged by someone that wasn’t a sibling or her teacher. It didn’t really matter that that wasn’t her real name.

It felt right.

They turned back and Rose let Cecil help Clover inside while she put the horses back in the stalls and feed them.

She jumped when a fist hit the door.

Orik laughed at her “Oh, so you won? That was some ridiculous peasant contest!”

Rose get off her horse and stood in front of her brother.

“Did you follow us?”

Orik ignored her words, and continued, “Did you have fun in the village? Found some blacksmith’s apprentice to hit you in the good places?”.

Rose turned red at that, gasping for words that didn’t come.

“Haha, like you could found some guy that would like you! No wonder you were all excited to get frisky with those boys, fights are the closest thing you’ll get to a good fuck...”

Rose freezed. Orik was annoying, and salty, but he had never been this awful before.

“How you dare talking like this?!”

Orik smiled.

“You won’t stood a chance against a real soldier! You can play the hero all you want but you are just a fool! You end up with some old man and die like our mom did, whoring yourself!”

Rose spat at his feet.

He seemed scandalized more than hurt from the gesture, but that wasn’t enough to make him stop.

“Ha..ha, you’re silent now? So you know I’m right... It’s not like you have ever won against Thor, do you? You’re just good against some pitiful farmer that trains with trees!”

Orick waited a moment, he was used to Rose quick comebacks but this time she stayed silent. Orick then continued, singhing.

“Why are you so happy all the fucking time? It’s all meanless. Don’t you understand?!”

Rose voice trembled with rage when she finally found her words “... oh, so I should follow your example, shouldn’t I? You, big brother Orick, that always has some spiteful comments on everything and anyone, the one that hates everything but doesn’t do anything to change! The one poisoned by envy!”

Rose looked up at him and she was actually crying, from both sadness and rage.

“The only times I ever see you smile is when you’re saying something horrible...”

Rose laughed a bit at that, and looked down at him.

She was taller than he was now.

“Aren’t you pitiful?”

Orik glared at her. He didn’t back up.

“I know my place at least”

“If I get good enough I’ll be a soldier under Thor’s orders! He promised me!”

Orik looked at her with something close to pity.

“You’re a woman. Women can’t fight in war. Not even brother can change that. It was just something he said to you when you were little”

Rose bit his lip “Y-you...”

“I’m not a fool. I know that my life is worthless. Everything was already decided since the day I was born. Everything would have been different if I hadn’t been ten minutes late. But I was, and I know it. You can practice all you want, but no matter how much effort you put into it, it won’t matter”.

He wasn’t smiling any more. His eyes were sad. That shocked her more than anything he had ever said.

“We can’t have dreams, Rose. They’ll shatter you, if you keep clinging on them”

---

It didn’t mean anything.

Orik had always been a dick.

She would shrug his nasty words like she always did.

Tomorrow.

She admired her sword, the decorations... roses and thorns.

She had always dreamt of running away, fight and protect other people... being free.

She knew her dreams were just that... dreams.

She had always known that.

In the stalls, far from Cecil, Clover and Orik’s stares...

no one would see if she cried or not.