Fic summary: She wants to kill the Elvenking. Instead, she found herself trapped between vengeance, forbidden desire, and the ghosts of a war that never truly ended. Set in a darker interpretation of Middle-earth with original characters, canon characters, headcanons, and multi-universal lore influences.
Fic summary: She came to kill the Elvenking. Instead, she found herself trapped between vengeance, forbidden desire, and the ghosts of a war that never truly ended. Set in a darker interpretation of Middle-earth with original characters, canon characters, headcanons, and multi-universal lore influences.
Chapter 1
Chapter summary: Aster Rose secretly visits her parentsā graves beyond Dorwinionās borders before returning to a cruel household where humiliation and punishment await her. Tormented by her family and haunted by memories of the Elvenking who destroyed her world, Aster falls asleep clutching the only thing left of her fatherāonly to dream of Thranduil, where he offers her a chilling warning, or is it a lost memory?
Warnings: Emotional abuse, toxic family dynamics, grief, trauma, starvation, nightmare imagery, mentions of suicide, prejudice/species discrimination, dark fantasy themes
The December snow fell softly that morning, casting a pale, soothing light over a world still recovering from Sauron's darkness. Yet the healing was slow. The enemy's evil lingeredāfelt in the soil, tasted in the water, carried faintly on the air. Nowhere was this more evident than in the woodland realm of Mirkwood, where the shadow had once taken root and spread deep into the earth itself.
To some, it was proof that darkness never truly dies. Sauron's reign had been the most catastrophic scourge since the First Age of Morgoth, but it would not be the last of corruption and wickedness. Other black souls endured, lesser in power, yet no less bent toward malice. King Thranduil had long warned as much from within his guarded halls: "Such is the nature of evil. Out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreadsāa shadow that grows in the dark."
The snow had fallen in a slow, steady hush during the sleeping hours in the land of vineyards. The world beyond lay distant, muted beneath winter's weight.
Just south of the Dorwinion borders, where the land dipped into stillness, a single pine stood alone, and Aster Rose knelt before two graves. Snow clung to her worn clothing. Her golden hair in a long braid, hung unkempt, dulled by travel and hardship, and soot stained her pale cheeks.
Above her, perched high in the branches, a guardian eagle owl given the name Athena, kept silent watch, her unblinking, golden gaze fixed on the world below.
The snow was brushed away with careful hands, each motion deliberate, almost ritual. The stones emerged, identical and unmarked. There was nothing upon them for the world to remember. But she remembered.
Her breath came soft in the cold air, steady and pale. Her frozen fingers lingered against the stone a moment longer than needed, as if to be certain it remained⦠as if it might vanish when she let go.
Aster placed a small wreath between the graves, centering it with delicate precision. It was handcrafted, vines twisted tight and unbroken, woven with care. Not wild growth, but taken from the sacred vineyards of Dorwinion. Guarded. Protected. Never meant for hands like hers, and yet, she had brought them there to proudly display.
Her youthful, blue eyes filled with tears, but none fell. She had learned long ago not to cry.
"It's me," she whispered, her voice nearly lost to the wind, "You're starflower. I came back like I promised I would. I made this for you. A crown, fit for a king and his queen."
Above her, Athena gave a low, quiet coo. It was a reminder that she was watching. Always watching.
Aster glanced up. For a moment, blue eyes met gold, and nothing more needed to be said. She looked back to the stones. Her voice, when it came again, was lower and firmer, "I know who did it."
The wind stirred, but she did not move. Her jaw tightened, "I know where he is. I know where he sleeps....and I will not fail you."
Her eyes fell, shoulders bowing as she spoke to her father's stone, "Don't be angry. I know you would be." A faint, giggling breath escaped, "You always said it. No one steals from a warlock."
The hint of a smile faltered before it could take shape. Her gaze shifted to the wreath, "I did. From his lands. From him. I shouldn't have," she admitted, but still justified it, āThey were already cut⦠left to wither. They would have died anyway."
Even as she said it, the excuse rang hollow, but she did not take it back, nor did she hide behind it either, "It was still foolish."
Silence settled again, heavier this time. Her shoulders drew in. Not from the cold, but from the strain, "I have nothing. Not even the clothes I wear."
Her fingers brushed the edge of the wreath, "So I brought you this."
Something shifted in her...unwelcomed, insistent. A thought she tried to turn away from, but couldn't. A single brow lifted, "Maybe I wanted him to know. Maybe I wanted to be caughtā¦because....what would he do??" A bitter edge crept in, "Punish me? As if that would be new. She already has.....and them. Every day I am their puppet. So tell me⦠what could he do that I havenāt already endured?"
Aster remained still, her gaze fixed on the vines. Her tone was hushed, as if she were afraid to speak of the warlock lord, "Iā¦Iāve never even seen him. Not truly." The name sat strangely on her tongue when she spoke it, "Alistair Caine."
He was half memory, half story.
"Onlyā¦profile glimpses from a distance. No one stepped too close or looked for too long. From what I could see though, he was stunning."
She drifted to the last sighting. It was summer. A polished carriage made from dark poplar, cut through the streets of Dorwinion. Guards flanked it, their attention fixed ahead. A beautiful, blonde woman emerged after him, assisted by his hand. He was said to have had many young, women suitors. They came from near and far.
Aster couldn't blame them. The wealth. The charm. What girl wouldn't desire a tall, dark and handsome, and very powerful man dressed in sharply tailored attire, and enjoy all the luxury and extravagance that came with him, even if it was only until he lost interest and moved onto the next in line? Heavy was the crown, she thought wryly, although he didn't wear one.
She swallowed heavily, "When he passed through, people like usā¦we werenāt seen. He was visibly arrogant. He would only look to those who mattered. The wealthy onesā¦or the guilty, which I suppose," she said quietly, "that leaves me one way to be noticed."
The words should have sounded like fear. They almost did, but something softer slipped through. A breath of a laugh escaped her, "I used to imagine it differently. Foolish thingsā¦attending one of his magical balls."
For a moment, it was there, light spilling gold across polished floors, music rising and falling, silk in place of worn cloth. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her skirt, "Not like this."
She hesitated, color rising faintly beneath the soot, "I thoughtā¦maybe he would see me. Dance with me." She paused, feeling flushed, "ā¦kiss me. It would be my first."
The silence that followed was enough. Aster straightened slightly and sighed, "So childish."
She looked back at her father's stone, grounded again, "They say warlocks are monsters, but you weren't. Not that I can remember, even if I was just a child...so I'll see what he really is when he decides what to do with me...if I'm caught."
The tears couldn't be contained any longer as she spoke to her mother. Her voice was different. Shaken and hurt, "I...I saw it. All of it. You tried to help them, even though they were dark and you were not. I understand though. He was still your father. I would have done the same for mine if it were him, just as I tried to do the same for you." She smiled with a bitter pride, "But that's who you were. Good. Selfless. You chose the light, and it cleansed the darkness within you."
The shift came, bringing rage as her memory sharpened, "The others, they didn't care to see the truth. They were supposed to be elves of light, but they were just as dark as the ones they sought and destroyed."
Fire. Smoke. Shouting, screaming cut short as they cut them...you, down.
"You wore their black blood....and that was enough to assume. I still see it....every night. It never fades. Their faces don't change. I remember them all."
Her stare narrowed, "I remember his. He was there, a bloodied sword in each hand, commanding them. Those eyes. I'll never forget those moonlike eyes. They met mine. He saw me...."
Aster squeezed her fist so tight, her knuckles blanched. Through clenched teeth, her voice rattled, "And he did nothing. I will never forget and I will not forgive. I will avenge you. Somehow. Someway....Someday. When I'm strong enough."
She lifted her glistening eyes to the gray sky above the tree. Her voice was soft, but still strong, "Mother....Father....if you can hear me, help me."
No answer came but something had been set into motion. A vow. A path and a reckoning that had already begun.
Athena's head sharply turned to the North, and her wings spread wide as she delivered three warning hoots. Her urgency was unmistakable. It was time to go home.
Catching a lost breath, Aster too, quickly turned, then ran. Athena took immediate flight and faithfully followed.
The snow was deep, dragging at Aster's legs as she retraced her steps up the hill to the dark forest, the shorter way back, and she didn't slow until she made it to the top.
The branches clawed at her sleeves at she pushed through the deadwood. The forest changed as she moved. The light faded and the silence deepened. A macabre scene surrounded her. Burnt trees and blackened trunks were all that remained in the place where it all had happened.
Athena soared above, her cries relentless, but Aster's strides didn't falter. Trees blurred past, black and skeletal, when suddenly....he was there. Not a memory. There, standing between the charred trunks, twin swords drawn, the silver edges catching a light that wasn't there. His armor was unmarred as he stood before his army, gaze fixed upon her, cold and knowing....just like that night.
(AI work posted by thranduilxthorin)
Her feet and breath stumbled. Space narrowed around her. For a heartbeat, he felt real, too real, but then the forest shifted around him. The dead became visible, scattered about the forest floor. The smell of blood and smoke filled the air. Enchanted whispers taunted her until she broke.
"Get out of my head!!!" she shouted at the Elvenking, "You're not real! It's the forest!"
Thranduil remained, staring, unblinking, watching her with his cold, merciless moons.
Her anger surged, which brought forth an elvish tongue that deemed him evil, a monster, "Ulund!!! I will kill you morchath!!!"
His image suddenly fractured. The edges of his form unraveled and thinned. Into smoke, his image bled, twisting through the trees and swallowed by the wind, leaving nothing behind except for the echo of his stare and the certainty that even when he was gone, he wasn't.
Wasting no time, Aster sprinted away and broke through the last of the trees to find Arion, her horse, white against the ruin, right where she had left him.
She pulled herself up and drove him forward with urgency. He surged into motion, his hooves tearing through the snow. She wouldn't, she couldn't look back. Her only thought was to get back to Dorwinion before she was missed.
The wind cut harder. Cold, sharp and unforgiving. Aster's heart raced and pounded in alignment with the horse's hooves. It was all too loud. Every sound felt like pursuit. Every shadow felt like watching eyes.
The land finally opened and there it was. The jagged coastline, and beyond it, the Black Sea of Rhƻn, dark and restless beneath the melancholy sky.
The treacherous body of water wasn't the only sore sight there. The castle that used to be her home, stood broken along the rocky shore, weathered and hollow, stripped of warmth and life.
Aster's breath quavered. She didn't mean to look, but the pull was too strong. The tower, still intact, rose above the ruin and within it, the fateful window.
Her grip violently tightened upon the reigns as the memory crashed in like the waves of the sea. The wind screamed. The salt was thick in the air. A figure of the past stood on the ledge of the window. Her grieving father. There was no hesitation, no turning back as he leapt into the black, raging abyss below. The salt was too much. Not meant for his kind. It took him like a shoal of flesh eating piranhas.
A raw scream tore free from her broken breath before she could stop it, "AHHHH!!!!"
Her cry was carried into the wind and swallowed by the sea. The pain, the rage, the loss, everything she held at the graves, was shattered.
Above, Athena cried too. Startled, Arion surged faster. Tears blurred Aster's vision but she didn't wipe them away. Instead, she let them fall, lost to the wind.
Forcing her eyes forward, Aster drug herself back to the present. It was all that mattered. Dowinion, her cruel aunt and cousins, the life she must return to.
As Aster held a breath, the horse raced on toward the city, toward the warlock, toward everything that waited for her.
The city rose ahead, warm lights, distant voices, a world that never knew where she had been. Aster slowed the horse when the outer dwellings came into view, just before the back gates that were mostly used by the lowly. It made it so much simpler for her to leave and enter unnoticed. She didn't enter though.
Without hesitation, she led Arion down a narrow, barely visible path that broke off through the trees. Behind them was a weathered farm and Alfred, her father's longtime and loyal caretaker, leaning on the fence, waiting. His aging eyes found her.
"You made it back."
Aster slid off the horse too quickly in her rush. Her legs almost faltered, but she managed to stay upright. As she hurried to the barn, Athena perched upon the fence, to wait and to watch.
Breathless, she placed Arion in his bay, and stood at the window to also watch....just in case. She could never shake the habit of always looking over her shoulder.
She expressed her gratitude to Alfred as she ran her hand along Arion's neck, "Thank you. He did well, as always."
He nodded, but his attention remained on her and not the horse. Her clothes, the snow frozen to them, the look in her eyes. He knew where she went.
"You shouldn't be out there."
Her guilty eyes met his. He softly smiled.
"I'll repay you...somehow, for all you have done for me, for Arion."
Alfred exhaled, and lightly shook his head as he glanced toward the city from the window, "No. No you won't. What you need isn't a debt. You need to leave and get away from your Aunt Catherine. Take your father's horse and your mother's owl, and just ride, far, far away."
Her eyes fell to Arion with sadness, "I can't. You know this....and I won't leave you. You never left me."
"Then stay here with me. It's not much, but it's yours if you need it. You're plenty old enough to do as you please. I've thought long and hard about it. You know you are like a daughter to me Aster Rose. I watched you grow into a beautiful, young woman. You can be closer to Arion too, as you should be. After all, he is rightfully yours, as all else should have been. King Agonis was very clear about that in his will." He growled in disgust about Catherine, "That wretched woman. She's not even of full Rose blood."
It was true. She was a half-sibling, older on the outside, who deserved nothing in Aster's eyes, but took everything, from her, and from Alfred.
For a single moment, she considered it. Warmth, safety, a door that wasn't locked, but reality came rushing back. Her aunt, the city, the reach she could not escape, and worse yet, what could happen to Alfred and Arion. Catherine was wicked. No one dared step upon her toes, and she despised animals.
Aster shook her head firmly, "No. I don't have anything. No coin, no trade, no way to live. She controls my father's fortune. I'll never see a single cent...and I won't bring her to your door."
Alfred knew she was right, but he didn't like it. He nodded, "Then go carefully....and quickly, before she finds you astray...if she has not already."
Aster nodded and embraced him, "Thank you again, for everything."
She turned to Arion, and gently kissed his forehead, "I'll see you later my sweet boy. I'm sorry we cannot be together. Maybe someday, but as it's been, Alfred must tend to you."
As she ran toward the path, he called to her, "Girl! You don't owe anyone your life!"
She paused, just slightly to glance back. The words were heavy but they didn't take root. Not yet. She gave an apologetic shake of her head, then disappeared into the trees. Dawn would soon come.
Aster ran up the stone walkway, cleared of snow, but shining with slickness beneath the lantern lights. Her breath was ragged, and her chest was burning as her eyes fixated on the house that loomed ahead. A dark, elegant mansion rising two stories high, crowned by three narrow towers that pierced the winter sky. Most of the windows glowed with warm light. It was too many.
She slowed herself at the door, hands shaking. It creaked as she opened it, just enough for her to peek inside. The warmth spilled out, golden against her cold, wind-bitten face.
Athena's distant hoot cut through the evening air. Aster gasped, whirling slightly, her eyes darting behind her. A sharp and sudden spike of fear cut through her chest. Sneaking inside, the door closed with a soft click.
It was too quiet. The foyer stretched before her, polished floors, dimmed light, everything pristine and untouched. Nothing of it belonged to her.
She moved carefully, tiptoeing, each step deliberate and controlled. As she rounded the corner to the lower level, the underground corridors that was her space, her cousin Claude stood before her, waiting.
She was beautiful and composed. Her long reddish-brown hair, pinned at the top, fell in soft curls over her shoulders, and her gown was rich and elegant, something worn to places Aster was never mean to attend.
A sharp breath caught in Claude's throat as she smiled, slow and smug.
"Oh mother..." she mocked, brown eyes gleaming with satisfaction, "Look what the cat dragged in!"
The words of summoning echoed down the hall. Clacking footsteps, fast and heavy upon the hallway's wood floor, were quickly heard. There were brief pauses that turned into thuds as the steps pounded across the expensive rugs.
Catherine appeared, also elegantly dressed. Her sandy brown hair was pinned high with perfection. A delicate crown rested upon her head. Not earned, but worn as if it were. Jewels caught the light as they dangled from her ears. Everything Aster was denied was displayed openly.
Her brown-eyed glare landed on Aster, "Where have you been??"
Aster tried to answer, but no words were found. She knew she should have rehearsed, for she was a terrible liar. Her mind scrambled for something, anything safe to say but still...nothing.
Patience was lost. Through clenched teeth, her aunt's fury unleashed, "Answer me!!!"
Aster jumped. The sound cracked through her as if she had been struck, and that would soon come if she did not find an acceptable excuse.
Claude watched, pleased and smiling. Waiting for the punishment to be handed down.
Frazzled and defensive, Aster's hands tightened and instinctively curled at her sides, wishing to knock that ridiculous crown off of her unroyal head.
Her lips parted, attempting the lie she still couldn't find, "Iā"
Catherine cut her off, and snarled, "Were you with that old man and that damn horse again??"
Aster's eyes widened, and her heart lurched. Now the lie truly mattered.
Catherine's nose wrinkled as she stepped forward, disgusted, "You reek of horse dung."
Amused, Claude giggled.
"No," Aster clamped, shaking her head, "No..."
It was too fast. She needed to steady herself and force something more believable. Arion's and Alfred's safety depended on it.
"I was....across town, on the high bridge...."
Her mind scrambled again, grabbing at whatever pieces it could, "Watching the ships. They were so, um.....large."
Entertained and skeptical, Claude's brow lifted, but Aster pressed on, committed even more to the lie. Her pulse hammered in her ears, "On my way back, I wasn't paying attention and I....stepped in it. There were many carriages out today."
There was silence as Catherine studied her, longer than Aster would have liked.
Softly and dismissively, Catherine scoffed, coldly amused, "Of course you were. Sheer folly, wandering around like a witless stray. No sense, no purpose. Your frolicking is unacceptable. You are an embarrassment, and a useless, unsightly burden. Just look at you."
She steps back, chin high. Her decision was made, "You will still be punished for leaving without permission and returning late. You will be locked in your room for the night. No supper. On the morrow, you will remain in this house and clean. Laundry. Floors. Everything. No food. For you, it needs to be earned, but first...go upstairs and assist Rachel with her corset and hair. We will be heading out soon and you...are not invited."
Catherine turned, but stopped to look down at Aster's feet, "First, take that atrocious footwear to the cellar and remove them. I will not have you tracking such filth through my home, then...bring me a bottle of wine and serve me a glass. I need many after dealing with you."
The room was small, bare, and barn-like, dimly lit by a single window. Not big enough for escape. Outside the glass, Athena softly cooed.
"Come on," Aster quietly invited as she unlatched the pointless lock.
The owl slipped inside, giving a rustle of her wings as she perched on the bed post where Aster sat tired and drained, but her spirit was not broken.
She pulled off her boots, grimacing slightly, and muttered as she tossed them aside, "My father was too trusting of that worm of a woman. Sharing half his blood will never make her my family, even if she was all that was left of it. She's nothing to me and she's nothing like my father, who clearly didn't see the true color of her heart. She fooled him. No magic either. None of them do, but then again....neither do I."
Aster sighed, staring down at her thawing feet, "I should poison the wine."
After a brief pause, she looked up at Athena, who blinked once, and softly cooed in response.
Aster smiled, "You know I wouldn't."
Her expression changed to darkness as her thoughts helplessly traveled to the Elvenking, "There's only one that I would end."
The bottle rested in Aster's hand as she climbed back to the level of luxury. In the main hall, she poured the Dorwinion wine into a crystal goblet. The sweet, strong, and enticing scent graced her nose. It was labeled as a wicked wine, as she had heard most call it. One glass was rumored to impair a grown man.
Aster gazed into the blood-colored liquid, tempted. One sip wouldn't hurt, would it? She'd never tasted it, but Claude and Rachel were permitted to drink it.
All was silent. She looked from left to right, then again before bringing the glass to her lips, and almost....no. She mustn't. With such a strong smell, Catherine would surely detect it on her breath, and Aster knew she would end up eating soap to wash it away.
She lowered the glass, frowning at the disturbing thought, then a flicker of defiance, almost childlike, came over her. Bringing the glass back to her mouth, Aster spit into it, subtle and quick.
Giving it a mixing swirl, Aster paraded down the hall and delivered it with a smile upon her face, and upon her departure, she watched from around the corner with great satisfaction as Catherine took a hefty swallow.
Onwards and upwards, Aster made her way to the towers as instructed. As she opened Rachel's door, firelight flickered across the darkened room, and Claude and Rachel sat at the table, cheerfully indulging in the wicked wine....until Aster was noticed.
Rachel snapped her goblet down and crossed her arms like a pouting child.
"What are you doing in my room??" she huffed.
Rachel wasn't nearly as pretty as Claude. Her long, scarlet hair fell wild with uneven waves and choppy, stiff bangs, and her gown was simple, a plain purple with no jewels worn to brighten the dull appearance, but her presence was just as sharp as her sister's....who leered at Aster.
Aster quietly answers, "I was ordered to help you with your dress and hair."
Rachel scoffed, turning her nose up, "You will not touch me. I will not have filthy hands upon my dress or my hair. Even if my hair was unkempt and soiled like yours, I still would not let you near it. Clean my room instead."
Aster pulled a cloth from her pocket, and with her head lowered, she began to dust. Both sisters watched her, smiling, then Claude finally spoke, and the taunting began.
"You smell worse up close."
"It suits her," Rachel promptly added.
As Aster ignored them and kept busy, they trapped and circled her slowly, taking turns with their claws like some game. In Aster's eyes, it felt more like a coven of witches.
"Tell us," Claude continued, "did you roll in it?"
Rachel leaned closer, her voice sharp, "Or is that just what your kind smells like?"
Aster hand stilled, just for a moment, and they noticed. They always noticed.
"Oh, there it is!" Claude raved, and snatched the cloth from Aster's hand.
Aster turned, head low as her eyes reluctantly lifted, meeting Rachel's.
Rachel's mocking words twisted in her mouth, aiming for Aster's heart, "The elf blood."
Claude grinned, then stepped closer, toying with Aster's braid, "Didn't help her much, did it? Mistaken for the wrong kind. Slaughtered and burned away to ash. Should have minded her own business, but she cared more about her dark elf father than her own child. Azrael. What kind of name is that anyways? Sounds devilish, like someone who followed and worshiped the necromancer."
Round and round, they continued to slither and circle and cackle, their forked tongues growing crueler, sharper, dizzying Aster.
The siblings were both evil, but if Aster were to choose the worst, Rachel was the more sinister of the pair. Her goal was to weaponize fear, and make Aster feel like there was no safety anywhere, especially about Thranduil.
"All elves are predators. Even the ones of light. Devils in disguise. Their fiendish eyes, and pale, colorless hair, just like the King of Mirkwood, the most nefarious of them all, but you knew that, didn't you? He may look like a golden king in a pretty crown, but I've heard the stories you haven't, about what happens in those halls when the doors close, when the torches burn low."
Picking up a lit candle, Rachel placed it beneath her chin to create a ghostly effect, and resumed her witches dance, "They don't sleep, you know. Not like we do. He doesn't lie down and dream. He just waits....his eyes open in the dark, piercing, ice cold, detached and dangerous and when something human-like wanders too close...."
Rachel stopped behind Aster and leaned in, "BOO!!"
Aster flinched and squeaked, but didn't unravel. She stood her ground as Rachel went on, turning Thranduil into a vampire, which Aster didn't find too far fetched.
"He smells it. Fear. Warm blood. It's irresistible to something old. They say he's beautiful up close. He wears a black tiara and a small, cruel smile...until you notice his teeth. Fangs like razors. He'll sink them in your neck and suck you dry as a prune."
Claude scoffed and giggled. She didn't echo her sister's eerie tone and exaggerated tales. She made it feel real and unavoidable, "He would never drink her blood. It's black, not red. I doubt he even drinks blood at all."
She turned back to Aster, "But that doesn't mean he's not wicked at heart....I'm truly surprised he didn't finish you too, since you're one of the dark. Being a child would carry no shame. Not for the Elvenking. He will come for you one night... while you're in your bed. Maybe even tonight, and slaughter you in your sleep with the same blades he used upon your mother. They will go through you like a hot knife and butter."
With her finger sliding slowly across her neck from side to side, Claude made the gesture of cutting her throat, and added a sinister sound for special effects.
"It will be so fast. You won't even have time to blink, let alone scream, as if anyone could, or would try to help you. You saw it for yourself, what helping others brings. Blood. So much blood."
Rachel snuck up behind Aster once more, poking her in the sides, "BOO again!"
This time Aster screamed, and spun around, her stomach twisting in knots, her breaths heavy as both girls bellowed in laughter.
"You got something to say to me?" Rachel sneered, "Well go on, say it then."
Aster let her eyes fall again. It was two against one. She would likely take a beating if she spoke.
Rachel chuckled, "I didn't think so wench. You're a coward, just like your father. Jumping into the sea like that. Seems he didn't love you that much either."
Aster's hands trembled, and it was also noticed, and enjoyed.
Claude clapped with delight, "OH! and I forgot..." She produces something from the table, pushing it in Aster's face. "This is what we were celebrating when we were so rudely interrupted."
An invitation, elegant and embossed, signed personally in red ink with a precise penmanship, by the one and only, King Alistair Caine. The parchment had a soft linen-textured look and carried the fragrance of the wine Aster had inhaled. Intense dark grapes and sweet berries, with a subtle hint of wildflowers and nectar from the sun-warmed vineyards in the great gardens of Dorwinion. Of course Aster knew that because she had been there, uninvited and trespassing.
"We're going to a ball!!!" Claude bragged, "A royal one. Next month, and you're not invited."
Rachel tilted her head, frowning at Aster, "Can you imagine? If Alistair Caine saw you?"
Claude crinkled her nose again, "He'd lock you away in a cage at one of his carnivals, circus freak. You look and smell of one. Go on now, go back to your well-suited cave before you pass your stench along to us."
Without a word, Aster returned to her room. It's dark, only the moonlight gave her sight. The house felt emptier now, but not safer.
Kneeling beside her bed, her hand slipped far beneath and found the small, wooden box hidden out of sight. She sat quietly on the old, lumpy mattress and opened it, pulling out one single thing. A ring made of pure silver, her father's.
As she held it in her hand, turning it about, a memory flickered. A table by the window where he left it. Salty wind rushing in. The place where he chose to leave the world....leave her. She had quickly taken it so Catherine wouldn't get her hands on it, for Aster knew if that happened, it would have been gone, like everything else.
Agonis had left it behind for two reasons. He wanted his only daughter to have it to remember him by, and because if he would have left it on, it would have shielded him from the salt of the sea. It was a special ring, magical, that the warlock king had weaved his own unique spell into for protection, but the only use it served Aster was feeling closer to her father each time she wore it.
She slipped it onto her ring finger, tears threatening to fall, but she still held them back. It fit, too well. His hands were small.
Emotional pain rushed over her as the callous words and implications from earlier echoed through her head. Coward. Filth. Freak. Useless. Unloved. The list went on. When finished, she added her own and spoke it in a whisper, "Alone."
A stray tear escaped, but she promptly wiped it away. She couldn't let them weaken her. It's what they wanted. It gave them the power they lacked. She had cried day and night after her parents deaths and she paid the price for it. Cry baby. Shut up. Grow up. Big girls don't cry. After that, she suffered in silence, learning to cope, to grieve as an abandoned child without showing emotions.
The day's events and starvation had depleted Aster of all energy. She had been lost in thought so long, that she had dozed off, still sitting up, slightly drooling, just like her father had done from time to time. Suddenly, fast footsteps were approaching her door and it startled her from her slumber. With her heart pounding, she tore the ring from her finger, and placed it back in the box, then slid it under the bed, but she knew it wasn't pushed back far enough to go unnoticed.
There was no time. Aster quickly sprawled her skirt around her feet to hide it, then she waited for the door to swing open, but it didn't. Instead, there was a loud click. The door had been locked as warned.
The footsteps retreated, just as fast as they had came, and then they were gone. Silence was back, but only briefly.
Soon after, voices arose from outside. Aster moved to the small window and opened it for some air, and to watch Catherine, Claude, and Rachel head out to the awaiting carriage, draped in finery, and their laughter trailing behind them, along with their perfume that carried in the wintry breeze right to Aster's nose. With a sorrowful sigh, she watched the lantern light inside the carriage fade as they disappeared into the night.
More silence settled over the house. Much deeper, but more peaceful with them gone. Alone again, Aster returned to her bed and put the ring back on, then laid down with the hand that bore the ring upon her chest, eyes closed. Thump by thump, she counted the beats of her heart, a nightly ritual to aid her in finding sleep. Most nights it was a slow process, for her thoughts and fears were defiant of allowing rest, but this night, it came quickly.
Her breaths were steady and soft as sleep took her, and then, the dark forest came again as it always did, but it changed. A garden of roses, black as night with red undertones, stretched endlessly, replacing the dead, burnt trees, but smoke remained, lingering through the air like smog. She could smell it.
The roses were so beautiful, inviting, tempting. The fragrance was unlike any she had knownāvelvet sweetness layered with smoke and winter air. Beneath it lingered the deep scent of dark wine and something almost forbidden, rich as overripe fruit left too long in moonlight.
Somewhere beyond the garden, a violin sang through the dark. Slow. Haunting. The melody drifted like smoke between the roses, beautiful enough to draw breath from her lungs, yet wrong in a way she could feel beneath her skin, causing the fine hairs to rise.
Each note trembled with longing, then twisted into something colder before it could soften completely. It sounded ancient. Seductive. Mourning something unnamed. The strings rose and fell like a whisper against the throat, gentle one moment, almost predatory the next.
And beneath it all lingered a terrible feelingā¦.as though the music itself wanted her to come closer, but she couldn't move.
In her stillness, something else moved among the roses. A figure. The elvenking, but not as she remembered him. No armor, No fire. No blood speckled upon his face. This was something else.
Black silk draped his giant form, long sleeves embroidered with subtle darkness. A high collar framed his throat, open just enough to reveal his pale chest beneath. Velvet fell from his shoulders in a heavy, shadowed cape. A crown rested upon his beautiful head, black, sharp, adorned with obsidian glass that drank the light. At his throat was a matching piece, dark, deliberate⦠wicked. Hair, almost silver, flowed long with a perfected braid drawing down the back. His eyes were of moonlight surrounded by shadow, and in his hand, he carried his sword. It cast her reflection.
In a very slow saunter, he walked among the roses as if they belonged to him. Carefully, he plucked one, mindful of the thorns, for there many, sharp as his blade. She wondered if his teeth were too, like Rachel described, but he never smiled.
He lifted the rose to his lips, breathing it in, then he looked at Aster. Something was in his gaze. Not rage. Not cruelty. Something far more dangerous.
Petals began to fall, drifting through the air like ash. Black and red, like the blood her mother wore, but the red was ignored.
He didn't look away, nor did Aster. He stepped closer and closer. The world narrowed to him alone, and then... he leaned down, close enough to hold her breath captive. Close enough that his deep voice did not need to rise, and then the words came.
"Run child."
Art by jenya_I_art who granted me permission to use her work for my fic. I added the music. Enjoy!
Summary: The stone cold secret agent becomes a pile of mush over Callie's presence. She's elated to see him alive but as the shock wears off, Luke suffers her wrath. Gael is confused with the reunion. Josie is falling apart at the seams and Luke is there to calm her once more. Callie is guilted by envy and overwhelmed with emotion. She dips. With Gael behind the wheel, Brando, Josie and Craig make a speedy departure but soon realize they are not alone. Callie's punishment sends Luke over the edge.
Luke's legs promptly overcame the giddy sensation as he rushed to catch Callie in his arms, but to touch and smell the love of his life again after their years apart brought it rushing right back, primarily in his emotions.
His trembling hands laid her gently upon the ground. Tears dripped from his burning eyes as he leaned over her, taking in her immaculate beauty.
Caressing her cheek, his choking voice uncontrollably quavered, "Lissie...my love. It's me baby. Come on sweetheart, open those exuberant eyes that stole my heart right out of it's sullen chamber. It has never beat the same since."
Simultaneously, Josie was begging the same from Craig who's blue eyes remained hidden behind closed lids, "Please Craig please!! Please wake up. Please wake up!"
She looked out into the empty lot, shouting in desperation, "Where the fuck is Gael???!!!! We have to get him to the hospital!!!"
Brando was abrupt, "No, we can't. It's the first place Cyrus' men will look."
She panicked, "W..what??? He needs help Brando! Like NOW!!"
He placed a hand upon hers, "If Craig were awake, he would tell you the same exact thing. We will get him help. We'll take him to Winchester. It's only twenty minutes from here. Britt's there and she can help him. Jeff keeps all the medical necessities stocked. I called Jason earlier and told him what was going on so they would be prepared."
Sobbing helplessly, Josie rested her cheek upon Craig's head that she cradled against her chest and continued to speak to him in hopes that her voice would give him the strength to hold on. At the same time, her saturated eyes couldn't help but view the strange scene between Luke and Callie.
As Luke's tender touch continued upon Callie's cheek, her lids began to flutter. When they fully opened, Luke's worried eyes and contradicting sweet smile took full clarity.
"George??" she mumbled, blinking her lids rapidly at the stunning sight.
He sighed in relief and stroked her hair, "There's my brown-eyed girl. Yes, it's me Lissie. Are you alright my my love? Can you sit up?"
The blinking ceased and her eyes moved about his face, studying every feature. To make sure she wasn't dreaming, she brought her fingertips to his cheek and traced them over his trembling lips.
His lips parted and a warm sigh tingled upon her skin, validating he was real. With a deep gasp, she sprung right up, sitting face to face with him.
As she smiled, he smiled as he professed his longing for her and offered a brief apology, "I have missed you more than words could ever say. I am so very sorry that I left you."
The bittersweet moment was cut short by Craig's Chevelle fishtailing around the corner. She locked eyes with Gael, then once more with the man she knew as George and the painful reality of what he had done to her and their daughter came crashing down upon her like a ton of bricks.
Her expression of love turned to resentment and disgust. Without warning, her palms thrust forward into his chest and Luke tumbled onto his back.
She stumbled to her feet, eyes blazing with rage, "You son of a bitch!!!"
Stunned by the deserving strike, as was Gael, Luke remained on the ground, peering up at her with pleading eyes, "Lissie, please. Let me explā"
"Shut up 'GEORGE!!'" she mocked, shaking from both adrenaline and humiliation.
Gael approached Callie, his eyes bewildered, "George?? Like....your ex-husband George???"
Luke stood, confidently correcting Gael with a jealous smugness, "Husband."
Ignoring the domestic dispute, Josie scolded the two men as she swung the back door open, "BOTH of you shut the hell up!!! GAEL! HELP US GET CRAIG IN THE FUCKING CAR, DAMN IT!!!!"
Gael rushed over to Brando and the two hoisted Craig up, one taking his legs, the other lifting under the arm pits and carried him to the back seat.
As they situated him, Luke turned to Josie who stood alone with bloodied hands, profusely sobbing and relentlessly snapping the rubber band upon her wrist. He went right to her and pulled her into his arms.
Slipping his hand behind her head, he softly spoke against her cheek, "Breathe."
Callie felt guilty for the spark of jealousy that ran through her, for Josie was her friend who desperately needed a friend and she should have been that friend, but she couldn't handle everything that was happening. Her life had went from normal to pure chaos in only a matter of twenty-four hours and when George entered the equation, her heart jumped ship and her erratic mind was left to do the thinking. It was fight or flight. She chose flight.
As another round of rain began, she looked at Gael with an unspoken apology, then turned and quietly walked away. No words were needed. Gael understood. The weight she was carrying was too heavy and she'd had enough. In his own silence, he let her leave.
Oblivious to Callie's departure, Luke helped Josie into the back seat at Craig's side where she took over for Brando with the compression on Craig's wound so he could make an updated call to Jason.
"Craig's going to be alright," Luke assured, "You're going to be alright. I'll see you soon."
She succeeded with a half smile, "From your lips to god's ears."
He leaned in to speak to Brando who claimed the passenger seat, "This is as far as I go. Cyrus' men left by boat and a cleaner stayed behind. He's been permanently disabled. Cyrus was on that boat. Looked dead but I wouldn't put any money on it. Keep the weapons. As you know, there's always more where that asshole came from and..." He looked at Josie, his eyes intense, "Keep her safe. Precious cargo."
"Always. Thanks for the 411 and the help. Appreciate it man."
"Yep," Luke curtly replied, then closed the door and tapped on the roof, "Go."
With Gael back in the saddle again, he sped off and when Luke turned around, he found that he stood alone.
Gael raced through the rainy streets following Brando's directions to the nearest exit out of mob land. From there, he hopped onto the busy freeway and floored it, fearlessly whipping in and out of traffic until Brando called him out on his reckless driving.
"Look man, I know you're upset with whatever's going on with Callie but the visibility sucks and the roads are slick. Tone it down a bit with the weaving before we get Johnny Law on our tail or you cause an accident."
"It ain't that man," he repudiated, his eyes repeatably moving back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror, "We got a tail alright but it ain't 5-O."
Brando swung around to see a vehicle in the far distance, aggressively zig-zagging through traffic.
"Fuck me. Good eye Gael. We gotta get off here. There's an exit up ahead at the overpass. Take that, then backup underneath so we're facing the exit ramp and kill the lights for a minute. Could be just some show off trying to race but I highly doubt it."
"Roger that!"
As Gael took a last minute lane hop and circled down the ramp, Brando armed up.
Brando warned as Gael brought the car to a stop, "Keep the engine running and be ready."
Extremely agitated, Josie sat right up, "What are you doing??? We can't stop!! Just keep going!!"
Her outburst triggered a hard gasp from Craig who began to shiver.
"Look at him!" she cried, "He's pale and cold. He's going into shock from the blood loss."
"I know Josie, I'm sorry," Brando apologized, "but we have to stop any threats. We don't want to lead them to where we're going. It's all I can do at the moment since we lost our only backup. We're on our own right now."
Still incoherent, Craig groaned and his face grimaced. Josie squeezed his hand and kissed his clammy cheek.
"It's going to be alright. I'm here. I won't leave you. Listen to my voice. Feel my hand. I've got you. Keep breathing. Do you hear me? I need you. You're all I have so don't you dare fucking leave me."
It was weak, but he managed to return the squeeze, then he slowly drew his middle finger down her palm. She smiled through her sobs as she recalled the gesture of endearment he had used to communicate with her before. It was his way of showing his love when he couldn't speak it.
"He squeezed my hand!" she announced with the first signs of hope in her voice, "He can hear me!"
The news gave Brando hope as well. He turned with a smile and reached back to clutch Craig's other hand, "I'm here too big brother. You hold on." He then chuckled, "I'm in charge right now, so that's an order."
"I'm here too boss man number one!" Gael added, wearing a cheesy grin, "Don't you worry. We're going to take care of you and your girl."
Josie could have sworn she saw a small curl of amusement on Craig's lips but she couldn't be certain due to his trembling. It was worsening.
An hour long minute passed in silence under the rain barrier but the sound of Craig's shivering was deafening to Josie.
"Just go already!" she impatiently commanded, "Whomever they were, we lost them."
Brando looked at Gael, "Alright, let's take the backroads for a few miles, then jump back on the freeway."
With the Chevy back in speedy motion and the heater blazing, Josie carefully laid beside Craig and cuddled him for extra warmth. The rain had once again subsided but Josie's tears took over as her head laid upon Craig's slowly rising and lowering chest, listening to and feeling his faint heartbeat. Her brain raced, searching for a solution that would aid in saving the man she had grown to love and her thoughts quickly travelled to Britt's brother. Two pairs of medical minds and hands were better than one but would Dave even speak to her, let alone help her after how deeply she had hurt him? For Craig, she had to try.
Swallowing her pride, she quietly made the call to her currently estranged bff but it didn't even ring. It went straight to voicemail, so at least she knew he didn't ignore the call. The phone was either off or dead and that was extremely odd for the dedicated doctor that Dave was. She paged him also and as a last resort, she called both Salem and Grandview hospitals to see if he was on shift but both confirmed he was not. Even with her recently developed disgust for Orlando, she would have rang him too if his broken body wasn't lying in a hospital bed. With all options exhausted, all she could do now was pray once again for more help to come.
After one mile of smooth sailing, the rough waters returned as a pair of motorcycles emerged from a darkened side street in pursuit of the Chevelle.
"Hold on Josie!" Gael warned as he down shifted and punched the gas, "Here we go again!"
Gasping, Josie sat up to gawk out the back window, clinging to the seat for stability through Gael's turbulent turns. She couldn't see the faces of the side by side phantoms due to the glaring headlights but they could see her.
"Josie, get down!!" Brando shouted as he leaned out the window to fire but before he could, the rider on his side began swerving and flashing his headlight, then shouted at him.
"Brando!!"
He knew the voice. Josie knew the voice. She popped back up, eyes wide. Her prayer had been answered.
"IT'S JASON!!!" she squealed, bouncing happily in place like a child, "And Jeffrey!"
Brando smiled and lowered his weapon, then gave a wave to the unrelated Morgan men before slipping back into his seat.
"It's all good Gael," Brando assured to his tensed up driver, then explained, "It's Josie's brother. He's come to escort us safely to Winchester."
Frazzled and annoyed, Gael shook his head, "Well why the fuck didn't he just call to tell you that??!!"
Fueled by desperation to find Callie, Luke's Track star legs raced back up the hill, his deep treaded boots flinging up mud with each lunging stride. As he hurdled over the crest, he skidded onto the loose gravel and came plummeting down to his hands and knees. Heavily heaving, he scrambled to his feet and paused where he stood at the sight of Callie's car.
"Lissie??!" he puffed as he swung the door open to a vacant interior.
Round and round he spun in despair, almost losing his footing again and possibly his mind as he frantically called out to her, "LISSIE!!!!"
Through the silence, a muffled, soft reply came from within his Charger, "In here George."
Her voice was the beta-blocker for his brewing breakdown. With a sudden calmness, he opened the door, slowly slid inside and closed the door.
Callie sat quietly in the passenger seat, arms wrapped around herself for warmth, and briefly gazed at him. Just like Luke's, her hazel hues had been altered by her emotions to a bright green and they refused to acknowledge him
Luke's lips parted to speak. He had so much to say but her presence had rendered him speechless. She was the only one with the power to turn his tough persona into that of a confused child. All he could do was gaze back, studying the faultless face that haunted his dreams night after endless night.
As she focused on her fidgeting fingers that came to a rest upon her lap, Callie finally took the reins, beginning simply where her thoughts led her.
"I didn't even want to go to some stupid art show last night. I had worked twelve hours and just wasn't feeling sociable but I did it for Gael. He was so excited about the new job and boss and he was suddenly wearing this halo of hope over his head. I wanted him to be happy. He deserved it. Then I met Craig and Josie. She and I just clicked. I knew we were going to be really great friends and lord knows I need some. We both did. I was having fun for once....dancing and forgetting about life....until all the madness began. Guns, shootouts, car chases, crazy trains and visions, but that's not the fucked up part of it all."
She became bitter as she wrapped her arms back around herself, fighting back tears of anger, "The fucked up part out of all that fucked up shit was that I felt envious. I watched Craig and Josie together. The way they flirted. The way they always found some excuse to touch each other. The way they looked at each other. The way they moved together on the dance floor. They way they bickered but always had each other's back's regardless. The way they could just read each other. The way they spoke about each other and their eyes and smiles lit up the room. To them, it seemed like they were the only ones in the room and all I could think about was how I use to have all of that with you...."
At her pause, Luke reached a sympathetic hand over to hers, tears streaming down his cheeks, but she jerked away from his uninvited and unwanted touch and immediately carried on to scornfully roast him.
"And when Josie's pathetic ex waltzed in tonight, spewing his lies and lame excuses as to why he had hurt her in the way that he had....that being giving his attention and dick to another woman only days after they broke up, as if Josie never even mattered to him, I instantly thought of you once more and how you disappeared shortly after that raging redhead tried to murder us."
Her eyes bravely met his and slitted, "So, is that what it was, George...or Luke...or whatever the hell your name is??? Were you fucking her on the side while keeping your family a secret and she found out??"
Finally, he found his words, "What???" he gasped, "N..no! Jesus Lissie, is that what you believe?? I could neverā"
"Is that really some shock to you that I would believe that??? What else did you expect me to think??? You were gone all the time and SO secretive! When I woke up in the hospital, you told me you didn't know her. You and that corroborating cop said she escaped from the mental hospital and that the attack had nothing to do with you. You said you got the gun away from her and shot her and she was dead and I believed you, but then you moved us and days later, you just vanished, leaving nothing but money and a note with nothing but a simple fucking 'I'm sorry' written on it and I didn't believe you anymore. WHO does that??? WHO are you???? How could you just leave your own DAUGHTER with no explanation and leave me to find one for her??!! It's been two years George!! I didn't even know if you were alive!!"
His voice choked up, "Georgie...how is...what did you tell hā"
If Luke hadn't been in such a vulnerable state, he would have avoided the fist to his jaw, "You don't get to ask about her!!" Her teeth gritted as she shook the pain out of her hand, "In fact, you don't get to know anything about our lives since you walked out on us."
Luke remained planted against the door, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He knew he deserved the strike and much more for that matter. It certainly wasn't the happy reunion he had always envisioned. That was just more of the fairytale bullshit he had ever dared to believe in. He had it and it was his own damn fault that he lost it.
Treading carefully on his next words, Luke attempted to give Callie the explanation she sought, "I...I was trying to keep you both safe...." He paused, racking his brain on where to go from there. Out of all the daydreaming he had done about reuniting with his beloved wife and daughter, he never fully planned out the reasoning for his actions because every time he had practiced the excuse into a mirror, he wanted to punch himself too.
The pause gave her more leverage, "Safe???!!!" she snarked and scoffed, "The only thing I need to be kept safe from is your lying, womanizing ass. I haven't forgotten who you were before you met me and clearly, it was all a big fat lie when you said I cured your man whore tendencies. Seems you like redheads and blondes, not brunettes. I mean, what was all of that touchy feely shit with Josie earlier??"
"Lissie, she's just my friend, I promise. I care about her. She's going through a lot right now and I was just trying to be there for her."
Luke quickly realized his poor choice of words as Callie's cold, dead stare of disbelief swallowed him whole.
"What about ME??!!!!" she furiously questioned, tear drops lumping on her lower lids, "What about what I, your WIFE, was going through??!!! Why weren't you there for me????!!!!"
"Lissie, baby please," he pleaded, "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant tonight. I had no idea you were even here or Iā"
"And I wish I never had been!" she sharply retorted, her tears betraying her pride as they gushed from her eyes. She took in a breath, held it, then released it and calmly proceeded through quavering lips as she spoke wounding words, "When I first saw you tonight, for a split second I was happy again. I believed that this fucked up night all happened for a reason because the universe had magically led me back to you but now, not only do I wish that I had never went tonight, I wish I had never met you at all."
The intent to maim his heart had worked like a charm. Luke shifted in his seat, attempting to dislodge the acute blade embedded in his chest but her glaring eyes held it firmly in place.
"You... you don't mean that," he softly stated, "You're just hurt and angry, understandably so, but you stayed. You waited here for me when you could have left. If you would just let me explain, I...I can fix this."
"Oh I meant every word," she declared, "It's been two years. You don't know anything about me anymore and clearly, I never knew anything about you. Not even your fucking real name. I stayed to say my peace, not to fix what you broke. If we hadn't even crossed paths tonight, you'd still be gone, living your double life so no, you can't fix this. You've shown me and Georgie exactly what we mean to you. I'm quite content and secure where I am in my life. I do love Gael. Georgie loves him too and he loves us. I will not jeopardize that for the precarious likes of you."
She opened the door and stepped out, turning back to twist the knife a little more, "I'm done. Nothing you say will change anything. Don't you DARE come after me. If you do, I will scream bloody fucking murder. It all ends here. I never want to see you again. You are dead to me."
Luke flinched as the door slammed shut. Abiding by her wishes, he reluctantly remained in the car, sobbing as he watched her drive away without offering him a second glance.
A deafening silence and hints of rose petals filled the car. He placed his hand upon the leather seat that she had occupied. It was still warm but the empty space was cold and lonely. His thoughts became dangerously unstable, triggering a violent, uncontrollable shaking in his hands that quickly spread throughout his entire body.
Consumed with anger and despair, Luke began to suffer a moment of temporary insanity. Detached from all logic, he removed his knife from the strap around his ankle and held it out in front of him with the blade facing his chest.
With white-knuckled fists clutching the hilt, he bellowed out her name, "LISSIEEEEEE!!!!!!"
Luke stared at the acute metal tip, willing himself to plunge it into his heart as he replayed her last words over and over again in his head, 'you are dead to me'.
With a gasping grunt, he closed his eyes and thrust it inwards, but in his blindness, a sudden flash of his daughter's face had overturned the self-served death sentence as the blade ceased merely inches from penetrating his flesh.
It was too much. Too cowardly. He had to see Georgie again. Dropping the knife, Luke's hands covered his face and he broke down once more. Once he fully collected himself, he headed back to Salem, windows down, music blaring and planning to reclaim what he had lost.
please do not stop writing the way you write. unfortunately, you canāt please everyone, but please keep writing however you want, your efforts are still always appreciated by others who truly understand the purpose of fanfics and AUs.
at the end of the day, itās always fuck ai, and we should not lose the art and love for writing for ourselves.
Summary: Luke briefly relives a 'once upon a time' chapter of a past life. Guilt aids in the choice he makes. His soft side appears for Josie once more. Team work begins. Callie is unsettled by Luke's nebulous appearance. Has she seen a ghost? Josie refuses to stay on the sidelines in the search for Craig. Her intuition speaks to her at the right moment. Luke's solo search brings more trouble but it prevents a disastrous outcome. Gael loses his cookies and receives his first lesson in body removal. Craig is fading. Brando works to save him. Luke and Callie get the shock of their lives.
Chapter Warnings: Language, angst, blood, graphic violence and depictions, brief mention of molestation, gunfire, guns, knives, stabbings, death
Boston 4 A.M.
The shrill scream of Craig's name exploded inside the car, triggering haunting memories of a similar moment in Luke's past the he had never spoken about to anyone. A moment where the blood-curling cry of his name came from a woman who deeply loved him and whom he loved more than his own life.
He had never spoken of her either or the life they had made. She was his safe space, the one and only person who had been able to soften and heal his hardened, empty heart by way of the rarest and truest form of love. It was magic. To him, she had come straight off the pages of a fairytale, ending his womanizing days.
He never believed in real love and happy families. How could he with all he had been through in his upbringing? Fairytales and happy endings were nonsense. He despised them so much that he used to shred his sister's books right in front of her, telling her that they were just bullshit fantasies that would warp her mind, filling it full of lies and ridiculous expectations. In truth, he only understood them as stories of darkness and deceit.
And so it ever was, so would it always be. His fairytale had come to an end as they all did, only there was no happiness. His heart had suffered a great fall and all the King's horses and all the King's men, couldn't put it back together again.
It wasn't love, but he deeply cared for Josie and seeing her so distraught was incredibly difficult, even if it was over a man he deeply cared nothing for. He had failed and abandoned his true love. He couldn't do the same to Josie.
"Take the next right," Luke coldly commanded, "From there, two blocks down. Drop me at my car."
Brando snapped his head to the side, locking Luke in his peripheral vision as he barked at him, "If you want to jump ship, there's the door! I'm not stopping."
"Look, if you want my help, I need to go to my car. I have weapons which you most certainly need, yes?? You don't know if Craig is alone."
Brando knew that he was right. Cyrus and his men could be lurking in the shadows. Pursing his lips together in frustration, he caved and sharply took the next turn as instructed.
While desperately making repeated attempts to call Craig back, Josie hadn't even noticed the change of course until the Chevelle came to a standstill. As she looked up, her flooded eyes watched in confusion as Luke ran up to his forest green Charger, camouflaged well within a darkened cluster of pines, and open the trunk.
Rushing back to the Chevy, he swung Josie's car door open and reached across her body to hand Brando the extra ammo, then he knelt down and took her tear-soaked face into his hands.
His hazels were kind and empathetic, "Listen to me. For you, I will do what I can to help. It's going to be alright." He glanced at Brando, then drew his eyes right back to her, "I'll be right behind you guys, ok?"
A withheld, whimpering breath rushed from her lips as she gave a single nod.
He stroked her chilled cheek and sweetly scolded her by reminding her of what she had forgotten to do, "You need to breathe beautiful."
With great surprise to Luke, she threw her arms around him, squishing her eyes shut as she squeezed him. God she needed to be held, even if just for the few seconds that it lasted and Luke could tell. Slightly cringing at the smell of cologne, presumably Craig's, on the leather blazer she wore, he briefly returned the embrace with snug arms to satisfy her, then he slipped free and stood, giving Brando adamant eyes.
"Go," he ordered before jogging back to his car, "I know the area well. My eyes will be peeled. I got your backs."
With the Chevelle in the lead, the Charger closely followed and soon after Brando's call, Gael and Callie became the caboose in the race against time.
A mile later, the pounding rain had ceased and the small convoy crept in near Craig's last known location, cutting the headlights as Brando led them to a dark and secluded overlook of the boating docks at pier 5. Side by side, they came to a stop with Brando in the middle, Gael on the right, Luke on the left. Gael sat patiently, waiting for Brando's plan of action, for he was the boss man's brother and to him, that placed him in charge of the search and hopefully rescue, not recovery, but Luke took orders from no one. In fact, he quickly took charge of the entire mission.
The blackened passenger window of the Charger rolled partially down, queuing Brando to do the same, then Luke's voice came from his silhouette.
"Get your boy and arm up." he ordered, referring to Gael as he slipped his ballcap on, pulling the bill down before returning to the trunk to access the armory beneath the floor.
After collecting the previously loaned ammo, Brando looked at Josie, who was snapping her wrist with the rubber band Craig had given her. As he spoke, her eyes remained focused on the sloped field leading to down the pier.
"Sit tight for a sec. I'll be right back."
As Brando gifted Gael an extra weapon and the two conversed in front of the car, Luke's shadow moved to the foggy brush line of the hill where he peered through a pair of small binoculars equipped with night vision. Callie's attentive eyes followed the faceless stranger, her brows furrowing at the familiar way he moved. Oddly, it caused the hairs on her arms to raise and her heart to race. She had to know who he was.
She leaned out her window, loudly whispering, "Gael!"
With a hard sigh, Gael turned and made his way to her window. At the same time, Brando ventured off to join Luke.
"What Callie????"
"Who is that man?" she quietly but anxiously asked.
"I don't know? Someone Josie knows I guess. His name is Luke."
There was disappointment in her tone, "Oh..."
"Why?"
"Just curious," she lied, "So what now???"
He handed her a small handgun and as she reluctantly took it, an intrusive flashback, that of being shot by the crazy redhead as her daughter and husband watched, stole her breath away. She could still hear the 'pop' and the terror in Georgina's screams and George shouting her name, 'Lissie!!' She could see the fear in his hazel eyes during the split second she locked eyes with him, screaming back his name as the gun had been turned on him moments before she lost consciousness. She could even feel the burn in her shoulder. Everything hurt all over again and uncontrollably, she winced.
With all the guns and gunfire she had fallen witness to in the last ten hours, none of it had triggered the traumatizing events of that night so long ago. She could only presume that the cause was confiding in Josie about her past only hours earlier and seeing the stranger's simple walk that was so very similar to her missing husband's.
Gael noticed her distress, "It's just for protection Callie."
She snapped back to reality, bringing her sarcasm with it, "I've never even held a gun, let alone fired one! What the hell do I even need it for when all you macho mob men, cause that's what you are now I guess, have a fuck ton of ammunition???"
"Because Callista!" he emphasized, "Craig IS a macho mob man and even he is in trouble and..." After a pause, he reluctantly continued, "because you and Josie are going to lock the doors and stay here while we go in to get Craig."
"Like hell I am!!" she barked, just as he knew he would, "and don't fucking call me that! I'm not a child that needs scolding! and also, what about Josie??? I guaranteeeeee you that she is not going to just sit here either!"
She turned to look over at her new friend who's seat was then empty as Josie had vacated the car undetected.
Suddenly, Josie's argumentative voice rang out from within the murkiness, "LET ME GO LUKE!"
"I TOLD you!" Callie gloated at Gael.
"Ok, just hold the fuck on for a second alright Callie??? Let me go find out what's going on. It's too dark and foggy. I can't see shit from here."
As Gael approached the trio, the scene began to take shape with Josie jerking her arm free from Luke's grip.
Luke was stern but calm, "You can't just go traipsing into Zacchara territory, alone, in the dark and not to mention, down that misty, swampy slope in high heels for fuck's sake."
She glared, "Why not??? YOU did!....minus the heels."
Scoffing, then chuckling, Luke shook his head, "That cannot even be a serious question. I'm highly trained for this shit. YOU...are not. You could be walking right into the lion's den. I have no visual on Cyrus, Craig or anyone else down there for that matter. You need to let the three of us handle this before you either wind up shot or breaking your damn leg."
Fuming, she clamped her jaw together and one by one, slipped her heels off, having to use Brando's arm as a crutch for balance. For extra support, he instinctively gripped her waist. The simple action brought back the memory and sweet sound of Craig's Kiwi voice as he caught her in his arms after her overconfident strut across her apartment to impress him had failed. He didn't laugh or tease like she had expected him too. He just simply said, 'I've got you love.'
To her dismay, another memory then followed. An unwanted one of tripping and twisting her ankle in Lee's backyard with a simple pair of flat bottomed boots on. His arms also saved her from a face plant and his voice, full of genuine concern, she could hear too, 'Jo! Are you ok??' That damn deep and sultry voice. It drew her right in from the very first moment she had laid her groggy eyes upon him in the hospital. It comforted her then as did his touch when he placed a gentle hand upon her ankle and asked, 'Does it hurt?' Nothing hurt then. He was a different man but now...everything hurt when she thought of him.
Once her bare and burning feet were securely planted on the earth, she shook off Lee's intrusion and countered Luke's argument, "Well I have to do something instead of just standing here like you're doing! Craig could be dy....God I can't even say it." She pulled the 38 Special from her pocket that Craig had hidden inside the glovebox, "I have this if needed and, I have this!" She pulled the keychain Kubaton that Luke had given her from the other pocket. Her smile was smug, "It took your highly trained ass down, did it not? I'm going Luke. With or without you. End of discussion."
Expecting nothing less of Josie due to her headstrong will, Luke grinned, shaking his head as he moved aside and watched her stagger down the lumpy hillside, "Of course you are," he muttered and followed, motioning Brando and Gael to join.
Glancing back at Callie, Gael hesitated to leave her there but if he knew if he went back to the car, she would try to detain him and time was running out. Craig needed help. The drama to come could wait.
"Fuck it," he muttered as he sprinted off after them without a care that Callie's scrutinizing eyes would quickly notice they were all gone and like clockwork, they did.
"What the fuck!" she shouted as she scrambled out of the car.
Stuffing the gun in her coat pocket, she too ventured off down the dark hill, cursing Gael under her breath with every slippery side-step she took, also in heels, "Fuck you Gael. Nobody puts Callie in a corner!"
Josie was the first to place her numb feet upon the level ground of cold concrete at the backside of a remote, rundown warehouse. Luke had been right behind her the entire way, ready to assist her if she slipped. Otherwise, he didn't dare touch her and risk another disabling skull crack but as she stopped in place, her eyes frantically searching and her breaths growing heavy with panic, he knew what was coming and he had no choice to place his hands upon her.
Her lips parted and her lungs filled with the chilled air, then out it came, "CRAā"
Luke's palm claimed her mouth as his free arm locked over her chest, pinning her against him and rendering her arms and hands useless.
Into her her ear, he softly spoke, "Do...not...shout. Understood?"
A tear rushed from her eye and traveled over his hand as she nodded. Cautiously, he released her and gave instructions to Brando and Gael, "Take the East side. We'll take the West." He then turned to Josie, "Move."
Locked and loaded, Brando and Gael parted ways and as Luke and Josie disappeared around the building, Callie came clacking speedily onto the dimly moonlit lot, catching a side glimpse of the man with no face. With a squealing gasp, she froze so fast that her slippery soles skated over the slick pavement and onto her back she plunged, knocking herself out cold.
As Luke and Josie crept along the dark side of the warehouse, a noise, like pans falling, sounded from the nearby pier.
"Don't move," Luke ordered as he stepped before her, raising the binoculars back to his eyes and slowly glided it across the leafless tree-line that impaired a clear view of the docks.
Unsatisfied, Luke looked Josie straight in her frightened eyes, "Stay right here. I'm going to go check it out."
"What??" she quietly panicked, "No. I want to come. What if it's Craig??"
"And what if it isn't??? I'm not asking Josie. You shouldn't even be here so for once in your damn life, just listen and stay put until I get back."
He muttered as he left, "Pain in my ass. I shoulda just tied you to the fucking steering wheel."
She crossed her arms and huffed under her breath, "Yeah, you should have."
As soon as he was out of sight, Josie tiptoed up to the corner of the warehouse and peeked around. The front entrance was lit up, allowing her to see a concrete ramp leading up to the shipping door for tow motors use but there was no activity or vehicles. It was nothing but a ghost yard with an eerie silence in the fishy breeze.
With caution and tender feet, she headed out into the empty lot, her hot, rapid breaths puffing out into the cold air like a chimney.
"I'm here Craig," she spoke aloud as her eyes scoured the long, desolate pier, "Where are you???"
There was a flutter in her stomach, followed by an unexpected voice inside her head that was her own, 'Turn around' ....and with trembling caution, she did.
There, before the wall of the ramp where the lighting was denied access, was a body lying still upon the ground.
Nothing much could startle Luke but as he walked the long, vacant dock, armed and ready, he slightly flinched when two feral and feisty felines, hissing and screeching, scurried out from behind a distant wall of crates.
Realizing the cats were presumably the source of the clanking crash, he lowered his gun that he had promptly aimed at the kitty commotion. As he watched them hightail it down the pier, he soon realized that he wasn't the cause of their dramatic exit.
Garbled male voices and the buzzing of a boat turned Luke's ear to the end of the pier. He crouched down behind a crate to observe with the binoculars and spotted a departing speed boat transporting multiple passengers. None were familiar, except for one that he could positively identify and it wasn't Craig. It was Cyrus and he appeared either unconscious or dead.
Upon further investigation, Luke's lenses picked up movement on the pier. One of the men, brawny and armed, had been left behind and Luke knew exactly why. First, it was to assure his boss' and team's safe exit and second, it was to clean up loose ends and that meant he needed to take him out before he found Craig first....or the others.
Still crouched, Luke crept along in the dark like a stealthy cat, his eyes locked on the prey. When he neared the bridge to the loading port, he found two puddles of bright red, rain-diluted blood. One, he was certain belonged to Cyrus and the other, most likely Craig but Luke had no visual of him.
Luke began to slowly make his way across the narrow, metal grated walkway, his gun raised and aimed at the target but to his disadvantage, the lighting upon the rails and sudden creaking of the metal floor alerted the assassin to his presence.
Luke immediately fired, missing the mobster as he swiftly took cover and then, the shootout began.
The gunfire also alerted Brando and Gael who promptly raced off to join the war from their outlying location but shortly after, Josie's scream bellowed from the warehouse as she fell to her knees at Craig's side, "CRAIG!!!!!!! SOMEONE HELP!!!!"
Her shrill cries froze Brando and Gael's feet in place, their eyes wide, their breaths heavy.
"My brother...." Brando gasped, conflicted on what to do between the gunfire and Josie's cries.
Gael quickly solved the problem, "GO! I'll find Luke!"
"Fuck," Luke muttered as he emptied the last of two clips. In the silence, his trained ears picked up that his opponent was bereft of bullets also.
Crouched behind a crate, Luke pulled out his trusty blade as the man called out to him from his own nearby refuge, "Looks like it's time to square up. Let's play."
"Game on motherfucker."
Simultaneously, both men bravely abandoned their safety nets and marched toward each other. Without hesitation, Luke initiated the first strike and a martial arts brawl ensued. He was the best of the best in that department but that didn't mean undefeatable, for when his blade was knocked from his grip and his six foot tall body, weighing 190 pounds was hoisted up, hurled over and smashed down onto a crate, it was safe to say that the other guy was highly skilled as well and Luke was in for a challenge.
Unphased by adrenaline, he got right back up and the fight continued. Jab after jab until Luke was knocked down once more by a kick to the chest that catapulted him into the piping systems.
The man quickly collected a heavy chain of steel and repeatably wrapped one end around his hand for swinging leverage, then came for Luke, who had only seconds to react. He always knew his death would be inevitable in his line of work but he just wasn't ready to let go. Much like the demon before him, there were others he had yet to come for and pass his wrathful judgement upon. There was a vengeance within him and it wanted earthly justice. God would just have to wait his turn.
Gripping a broken section of the utility pipe, Luke wriggled and snapped it free from it's anchored base just in time to deliver many ferocious blows to the goon's thick, bald head and it should have busted his skull clean open and took him down but it didn't even seem to phase him. He was a fucking machine.
Needless to say, the retaliation was excruciatingly painful as the cleaner dished back a powerful belt beating upon Luke with the steel rope but it was nothing in comparison to what his father had inflicted upon him and in that moment, that became his center of focus to win the death match.
As he visualized Luke Sr. before him, all liquored up and lubing his stiff cock during the nightly visits to Luke's room, he saw red.
With one hand clutching each end of the pipe, Luke raised it and blocked the next incoming strike. The chain spun tightly and locked around the steel bar and that's when the tables turned. With all his might, fueled by pure rage, Luke yanked the pipe and it sent the man twirling to the ground, giving Luke the upper hand. As he straddled his back and snagged his throat behind the pipe, the red became a blinding crimson.
The enemy struggled for air, thrashing his legs about and tugging at the pipe as his windpipe was being crushed.
"Game over," Luke snarled, reeling in his prize catch with unstoppable force and an unbreakable grip.
Even after all movement ceased, Luke's white-knuckled choke hold remained locked in place until the man's hands loosened and fell limp at his side.
One lesson Luke had learned the hard way was that looks can be deceiving. He would never again make the mistake of presuming the target is deceased, just as he would not presume Cyrus had been eliminated. A simple pulse check wasn't even enough to satisfy him, for it can be weak and go undetected. They only way to be absolutely positive and his next move would remove any and all doubt.
He laid the pipe down, then reclaimed his knife, securely clutching the hilt as he raised it above the man's forehead and with a grunting thrust, he plunged the blade into his brain.
Just then, Gael came galloping across the bridge, brandishing his gun but when he saw the gore before him as Luke withdrew the knife, up came the vomit, splattering at his feet.
Luke nonchalantly wiped the blade clean upon the definitely dead man's chest and stood with a sigh and words of wisdom, "There's no time in your new profession to be green around the gills Gael."
He cringed, then removed his eyes from the macabre and gave an embarrassed chuckle, "Yeah, I know. It's just...my first time seeing....that. I'm good now."
Luke lightly grinned, toying with him as he patted him on the shoulder, "Good. Now that your feet's wet, no pun intended," he said a he glanced down at Gael's puke-stained boots, "dump him in the bay. It's time to go."
With a gulp, Gael complied and drug the man's body by the feet to the edge of the pier, then rolled him overboard, flinching at the splash.
He quickly turned back to Luke and anxiously sighed as he smiled and rubbed his hands together, "Alriiiiiighty then. No more bad guy." His brows then furrowed, "Who was that anyways?"
"That, my dear boy, was a terminator."
Gael's hands went to his hips, "Hmmph, I see. Well," he chuckled, "he certainly won't be back."
Luke closed his eyes as a long, soft sigh rolled out of his nostrils, "Will you just go?"
Gael flaunted his pearly white smile, "After you."
As he and Luke arrived back at the warehouse, they found Josie in hysterics, sitting on the ground, holding Craig's still body in her arms and Brando wriggling out of his suit jacket to apply it in a wadded up fashion to Craig's bloodied stomach.
"Get the car!!" Brando barked and tossed Gael the keys.
Gael froze, peering down in fear at the closed eyes of his new boss and friend as Josie sobbed over him, stroking his cheek.
"Is...is he....."
"He has a pulse, but it's faint," Brando answered, then snapped, "Fucking GO already!"
As Gael grabbed the keys and scaled up the hill with swift strides, Callie came scuffling around the corner of the building, holding the back of her throbbing head.
Luke's attention instantly shifted from Craig to the sound of the scraping heels. As he raised his head, the security light glared from behind him, blinding her. Luke could see perfectly though.
She squinted as she held her hand out to shield her eyes and to try and bring the faceless man into focus.
Every muscle in Luke's body turned to jello. His heart pummeled his breast bone. His eyes welled and his voice quavered as he spoke.
"Lissie??"
Her hand lowered as he stepped forward, blocking the light. His image became crystal clear and the faceless man was faceless no more.
Between the shock and the pounding in her head, her vision began to blur and just before she fell faint, she managed to squeak his name,
i love fics that feel so... grown. fics about adults that were written by adults who have years of life experience under their belts who pour that into their writing. fics where you can tell this is a person who has lived through a marriage or a divorce or a child or children or parent death or any number of Huge Life Events because the way they write with an emphasis on the highs and lows of the human experience rather than an emphasis on tropes (not throwing shade) is just so. oh man, it's just so fucking good. if my blorbos are grown men, grown women, grown people, i love it when they feel like grown people, not just extensions of the (young) author's imagination. (still not throwing shade). you know?
WARNING! NOT FOR READERS UNDER 18!!- My stories are very dark and explicit
Notes: I use photos, gifs, music and videos in my fics. Some characters are OC and some are eventual.
Summary and chapters links below
Code Blue reunites my favorite Tolkien boys, Lee Pace, Luke Evans, Orlando Bloom and Craig Parker as themselves along with an OC named Josephine March in a multi-universe drama filled story of love, drama and danger in the medical, organized crime, and paranormal world. There's also characters from my favorite soaps General Hospital and Days of Our Lives and last, but certainly not least, the Walking Dead's and Supernatural's Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Ghost whisperer's David Conrad and the Scottish actor Gerard Butler are here to shake things up too!....PLUS OTHERS WILL COME.
Disclosure- Any medical information in this fic is purely from google research and personal experiences and some may be incorrect. I am NOT a physician. It is NOT meant to aid any readers with medical decisions or treatments. Please rememberā¦it's fiction! lol. Thank you. Enjoy!
WARNING! NOT FOR READERS UNDER 18!!- My stories are very dark and explicit which includes but is NOT limited to: language, angst, smut, violence, graphic depictions, addictions, drug use, mental illness, death, organized crime, murder plots and supernatural encounters
Notes: I use photos, gifs, music and videos in my fics. Some characters listed are not introduced until later chapters.
Code Blue reunites my favorite Tolkien boys, Lee Pace, Luke Evans, Orlando Bloom and Craig Parker as themselves along with an OC named Josephine March in a drama filled story of love, drama and danger in the medical, organized crime, and paranormal world. There's also characters from my favorite soaps General Hospital and Days of Our Lives and last, but certainly not least, the Walking Dead's and Supernatural's Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Ghost whisperer's David Conrad and the Scottish actor Gerard Butler are here to shake things up too!....PLUS OTHERS WILL COME.
Code Blue's pilot chapter begins with the introduction of the character Dr. Lee Pace and his mental struggles as a physician and in his personal life as he's thrown into the path of an oncoming love that he never saw coming. As three dark and chaotic worlds unite, many lives are forever changed in this emotional, psychological and supernatural rollercoaster of drama, love, jealousy, betrayal and danger among much, much more. Friendships will be tested. Loyalties will be questioned. Trust will be broken. Losses will be suffered and secrets will surface. A runaway train is on a collision course to Salem, Massachusetts. Who will be united and who will be divided? No one is safe. Hence the titleā¦Code Blue.
Disclosure- Any medical information in this fic is purely from google research and personal experiences and some may be incorrect. I am NOT a physician. It is NOT meant to aid any readers with medical decisions or treatments. Please rememberā¦it's fiction! lol. Thank you. Enjoy!
Other links to my works below:
Code Blue on AO3(Archive of Our Own)
Thranduil and Josie on AO3
Thranduil and Josie on Tumblr
What's your proof of life? @paceparkergirl - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag