Eddie shakes his head. They’re sitting at his picnic table. He hasn’t had any customers today, though that may be because he’s been letting Steve “The Hair” Harrington take up all his attention. It has been much more entertaining than he’d thought it would be.
“It’s not a class.”
“you have to take a class to be a ninja?” Steve asks, confused. “Or, a knight or whatever?”
“Not that kind of class. But yeah, you can be a fighter but not a ninja.”
Steve pouts. It is unfairly attractive. “This game is stupid. who wouldn’t wanna be a ninja?”
“I mean, some people will homebrew a class for you but that’s a lot of work, and if the kids you’re babysitting are young, I wouldn’t make them do that. Not for a couple years, until they’re comfortable with jacking up the ruleset.”
“Ho—homebrew?” Steve slides his hands down his face. He looks like Eddie’s handed him the nuclear codes and told him to translate them into Russian. He stares at the character sheet Eddie offered to draw up for him. “Like, cooking? Or making alcohol? Wait, are you giving kids—”
“No!” Eddie says quickly because Steve looks actually upset and he wonders about that. Steve knew where to find Eddie and what he’d be doing out here but he draws the line at booze? Like he isn’t the king of underage drinking? What is King Steve even doing running a babysitting service? “It means like, make up the rules and stuff yourself, rather than get it from the rulebook.”
“Oh my god, I’m never gonna get this.” Steve puts his head in his hands. He sounds so broken up about it, so sad and disappointed in himself, that Eddie pats his shoulder without thinking about it. Steve only sighs beneath his touch so Eddie leaves his hand there, ignoring the feeling of muscles under fabric.
“Why does it even matter that much to you, anyway? Never thought I’d see the day Hawkins Royalty decided to indulge in a little satanic gameplay.”
Steve moves so fast Eddie can’t even flinch before he’s got Eddie’s hand wrapped in both of his. Eddie turns red. “It’s not satanic,” Steve tells him, emphatic. “It’s harmless, I know that much, at least. Anybody who gives you shit for it is dangerously stupid, Munson. You let me know if anybody does, okay? And I’ll be damned if I let them give those kids shit for it either.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers, awed. Steve loosens his grip, confused, but Eddie covers their joined hands and grins. “You just swore an oath of protection.”
Steve shifts, looking uncomfortably seen. He ducks his head and mutters, “well, yeah but. I mean when you say it like that you make it sound cooler than it is.”
“It is cool,” Eddie insists. “You’re not a fighter, Steve, you’re a paladin!” He pulls away only to shift to Steve’s bench and grab his pencil, filling in his class. “They’re holy fighters who swear an oath for something they believe in. There’s even a way of specialty called Protection Fighting, where you take hits meant for others or reduce damage to allies. That’s you!”
“But you said they get like, powers from God, right? I’m not religious.”
“You don’t have to be. Besides it’s from non-Christian or fictional gods, like Pan or Tyr. We could pick one for you that would fit. What do you like, nature, justice, the sun? It could be anything.”
Eddie’s excitement seems catching, because Steve picks his head up and smiles a little. He taps his fingers on the edge of the paper and asks, voice a little small, “Could I—make one up?”
It’s not technically allowed by the stringent constraints of dnd. But Eddie finds himself curious as to where this is going. He nods. Steve lets out a breath like he’s nervous and speaks in a rush.
“She’s a god of, um. Freedom. Yeah. And she—she protects kids the best because they should have the most freedom to grow up and be whoever they want. But she protects everyone else too! She got crazy powers but they kinda hurt? Sometimes? So she doesn’t use them often and her followers and friends know to help her out when she’s tired. And she never wanted to be powerful in the first place? She just had to be. So her goal is to find the freedom to be a normal kid again.” Steve plucks at the hem of his shirt, losing a little of his steam, before finding Eddie’s gaze. “I guess that could be, like, my…quest? Right? Giving her a normal life. Finding that, um. Freedom. For her.”
Eddie looks into the honey brown of Steve Harrington’s eyes and feels his heart pound in his chest. He nods, ideas already flitting in his mind. This boy is going to have an entire campaign written about him by the time Eddie’s through with this. How did he just come soaring out of the blue and throw all of Eddie’s preconceived notions about him into absolute chaos in less than a week?
“Hell yes, Harrington,” he says, instead of announcing all that. “Chaotic Good Oath of Protection Paladin Steve—what’s your goddess’s name?”
written for @steddiemicrofic's august prompt: 🕳️ ‘hole’ 🕳️
rated M | 606 words | cw: American-style underage drinking (in that they're like 20) | tags: hole discussions, talking & drinking, Robin Buckley POV, euphemisms
[AO3 link]
“You know how some guys like a finger up the butt when they’re whackin’ it?”
As soon as the words leave Eddie’s mouth, Robin’s at attention. Leaning against the Winnebago, Steve and Eddie share a bottle of vodka, talking softly while everyone’s sleeping.
Robin isn’t, though. Can’t stop thinking about the end of the world. Plus, they’re right by her open window.
She’d considered chewing them out or demanding a swig, but she’s intrigued by how earnest Steve is with Eddie despite Eddie flirting his little ass off.
That goes well beyond tongue-in-cheek flirting, though. That’s gay—like, actually gay. Steve better ask questions because Robin doesn’t have gay peers, since Vickie—whatever.
“Uh,” Steve replies. “Not really.” Robin curses him internally. Luckily, their psychic link must be operational because he backtracks. “No, yeah, guys talk about that in the locker room sometimes. So—that’s your thing?”
“Kinda,” Eddie mumbles. “I like a little more than a finger.”
“Like what?”
“Like… two. Three, sometimes. A hairbrush handle. S’all good.”
“Mm.” Another swig. “Didn’t think you owned a hairbrush.”
“Maybe ‘cause I’m using it for something else, Steve.”
Somebody snorts.
“So… what do you like about it?”
A huff. “I don’t know—just feels good. Like a deep stretch.”
“Didn’t you skip gym for, like… all of high school?”
“Why? Were you looking for me?”
“I would’ve noticed if you were there.”
Woah. That’s intense for Steve.
A breathy laugh. “What about you, huh? What’s your thing?”
“I don’t know. Giving people what they need, I guess? I like being people’s first.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Nah, it’s like—feels good to be picked. And you know they’ll compare you to everyone who comes after. Nobody forgets their first. I like… control. Taking charge. S’not sweet.”
“Sweet to show ‘em a good time. Nothing wrong with wanting control. Lotta people want a guy who’ll take charge.”
“…Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So the, uh. Butt stuff. That something you wanna do with someone else?”
Robin’s heart races. She can’t imagine talking like this with Vickie, and for a minute, it really seemed like… And Steve’s straight. Right?
“Yeah,” Eddie admits, “but not here. If I ever get out, I will. Find someone to fuck me really hard. Wanna know if it feels as good as I imagine.”
Steve hums.
“Yup,” Eddie reiterates. “Gotta find someone to spelunk my bat cave. Plunder my bag of holding. Destroy my Ring in the fires of Mount Doom. If you know what I mean.”
“Such a fucking nerd, man.”
Giggling.
The subject changes. Absurdly, it feels more violating to overhear them talking about family, what things were like growing up. Robin wraps her pillow around her ears; exhaustion pulls her quickly under.
As they prepare the next day, last night recedes like a dream—‘til the groups split up, anyway.
“Hey, Eddie,” Steve says, pulling him aside. “Listen… Don’t be a hero out there. Don’t even think about going out in a blaze of glory. Demobat teeth fucking hurt, alright?”
“Oh.” Eddie blinks. “…Okay.”
“Cool.” Steve nods. “Besides,” he adds, “you still have to show me your bat cave.”
Even in the dark, Eddie visibly flushes.
Honestly, he should be proud. Robin already respected his bold, frankly insane move of telling Steve Harrington he likes butt stuff. For it to actually pay off? Incredible.
“You have a bat cave?” Dustin shrieks, trailing after a dazed Eddie. “Why don’t I get to see your bat cave? Eddie! Are you and Steve friends now!?”
Chuckling, Steve heads for the forest. Nancy’s clearly lost, but Robin takes her hand and follows Steve, leading with the knowledge that he’s just scored his biggest ‘you rule’ yet.
Hayden always gets emotional when his kids' birthdays are coming up. So Shane isn't surprised when he opens his phone to 15 new pictures of Amber when she was a baby the week before her fifth birthday.
"Look how tiny she was!", Hayden texts, followed by another handful of pictures of teeny tiny Amber. And Shane loves his nices and nephew, has always cherished that he gets to be Uncle Shane to them and watch them grow up.
"Cute!", Shane texts back before he scrolls through the pictures one by one. It has been ages and at the same time five minutes since Amber, now gap-toothed and, last Shane saw her, wearing a mud soaked bumblebee dress as she was kneeling in the garden orchestrating a tea party for the frogs in the Pike's pond, was barely old enough to hold up her own head.
A new message from Hayden comes through, though this time it's a video. It's taken from outside Amber's nursery, the hallway dark. The soft light from her various nightlights offers just enough to show the outline of Shane, holding Amber in his arms and swaying slowly from side to side as he's singing softly in French.
"Teething gate!!", Hayden writes. "Saved my ass back then, only thing that got us through that evening. Still a legend for busting out the singing, bud."
And yeah, Shane remembers. He'd come over to help Hayden with the kids, giving Jackie a break now that her husband was back from his roadie, allowing her to get a full nights sleep again. He remembers the bone deep exhaustion when nothing they tried helped with soothing Amber. He remembers Hayden, close to tears, heading downstairs to get one of the teething rings they kept in the freezer in the hope that maybe this time it would help soothe her pain. And Shane had stood there, holding a softly hiccuping Amber in his arms, heart breaking for her and wanting nothing more than to take the pain away.
And suddenly he'd remembered his dad holding him in his arms when he couldn't sleep, mind too loud and running a mile a minute even as a kid, carrying him through their house and singing softly to him.
Shane didn't realize until now that Hayden had recorded him singing.
He's brought back to the present by Ilya nudging his thigh with his foot. "What are you watching?", Ilya asks, his own phone lowered to his chest.
Shane can already feel his cheeks heat up. It's not as if he makes a habit of singing and he's pretty sure he has never sung near Ilya, let alone told him about it.
"Nothing", Shane says quickly. He knows it's to no avail when Ilya raises his eyebrows at him.
"You have been starring at your phone for past ten minutes. Looks very interesting for video about nothing", Ilya says.
And so Shane ends up showing the video to Ilya. He has heard him anyway and there's this curious glint in his eyes that Shane knows well enough by now. He's not going to let it go so might as well go full in.
Ilya's eyes light up when he realises that it's Shane who's singing, in French no less. He insists on watching the video three more times and begs Shane to send it to him afterwards.
Of course, he also looks up the original song. "It's a good song, but you have much prettier voice than her", Ilya tells him after listening to the tong for the first time, leaning up to kiss his jaw. Shane pulls him close, hand automatically finding Ilya's curls as he makes himself comfortable on Shane's shoulder. He kisses Ilya's forehead, listening as the song starts anew.
They listen to it in silce for a while before Ilya asks, "Why this song?"
And, well.
"My parents played it once when I was over at their house for dinner", Shane starts. Well aware that Ilya will want to know more than that, Shane tries not to focus on how fast his heart is beating as he continues. "It's, uhm, a love song. It's an old song, the singer sings about how she misses her husband when he is out at sea, watching the storms that pass by. She always waits at the shore, watching as the boats come back in, looking for the boat where the sunshine illuminates her husband's blonde curls, bringing him and the sunshine back to her."
Shane resolutely stares at the point just above the TV as he mumbles the last part, cheeks aflame.
Ilya sits up from he was resting against Shane, softly taking his chin in his hands to turn Shane so he's facing Ilya.
Ilya waggles with his eyebrows. "I did not realize you were so in love with handsome blonde sailor, Hollander", he teases, laughing as Shane shoves him away with an eye-roll and a "Fuck off, asshole!"
They both know there's no heat behind either statement, not when Shane immediately pulls Ilya close to him again and Ilya lays his head back on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to Shane's throat as he does so.
Shane knows Ilya has long put one and one together, has figured out why Shane might have been drawn to a song about waiting for your loved one to return to you. Has figured out why Shane would sing a song about a man with blond curly hair. Knows they both remember when waiting meant months and sweing each other for a handful of hours, a couple of days if they were lucky. Feels it in the way Ilya presses against him, the way he himself holds Ilya close with no intent of letting him go soon.
Again, it's Ilya who breaks the silence. "Shane?", he asks, quiet and without a note of teasing in his voice. "Would you sing it to me? My song?"
And Shane has never been able to withold Ilya anything he asks for. Neither of them mention the fact that Ilya called it his song. After all, the song had been Ilya's long before Ilya had become Shane's.
And so Shane once again holds a person he loves close to him, closes his eyes and starts singing.
'Cause when I'm all fucked up, I don't feel no pain
Won't you run to me, run through my veins?
Baby, won't you come and get me high?
— Jonah Kagen, "God Needs The Devil"
❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
(dearest people in my phone, I rarely thank you for all the sweet words you leave me with, but here I am, honored as fuck to be able to share my joy and hyperfixation with you all. As a little gift, please accept some other versions of this piece!)
i just saw a post encouraging various fanfiction habits (like going through bookmarks, leaving comments, etc.), saying they're not weird, don't worry, keep fanfiction culture alive! and i totally agree with the sentiment, but i also want to add:
fanfiction is weird. writing it is weird, reading it is weird, gushing about it to your friends is weird! it's a weird hobby, it wasn't even that long ago that most people wouldn't dare mention it to real-life acquaintances, and in some circles it can STILL have social consequences to admit. many people don't spend hours of their day thinking about The Character, or putting blorbo in a blender, or imagining themselves in fantastical situations.
BE WEIRD! unlearn shame! you share the proud tradition of a weird subculture defined by love and passion and community--one that goes back decades, if not more. embrace the weird and stop letting fear of being shamed get in the way of what YOU enjoy. be weird!!
People focusing on the Harry Potter series on this post are missing the point.
The point isn't that Harry Potter itself is the problem, it's that a large fandom obsessed with one work, and only one work, to the exclusion of all other works, combined with a rapturous devotion to that specific creator, resulted in a socio-political landscape where one very popular author of children stories can single-handedly swing a society into a genocide.
When Robin and Eddie and Nancy finally get too curious and get their hands on Steve Harrington’s new super secret notebook they find the world’s most unhinged, harebrained to-do list:
Make the twerps like me so they know they’re safe with me and they don’t need to fight monsters alone because HELLO! BAD IDEA!!
ask Munson to teach me d&d so the twerps like me. Why are they doing math for fun?? Dweebs
explain to Munson that he’s wrong about what a demogorgon is
become best friends with Robin? Or maybe I should keep her out of it this time around??
start a babysitting service. Get gas money out of it this time!!
self defense classes???
Tell Byers he needs to keep an eye on his brother because who the hell lets a kid bike home through the woods in the rain at night
Steve sitting at Eddie’s kitchen table while Eddie shows him a lovingly hand painted miniature.
“so this is a demogorgon.”
Steve, staring at a two-headed baboon: “mm. No it’s not.”
“what? Yes it is!” Eddie is outraged. King Steve shows up out of nowhere, barges into Eddie’s trailer acting like he knows the place, asks a million questions about d&d (which Eddie didn’t even realize Steve Harrington knew existed), and then refuses to learn anything about it!
“no, see,” Steve says, grabbing a spare character sheet; he draws right on it, ignoring Eddie’s outraged squawk. He draws a big daisy with teeth all over the petals.
Eddie looks at the drawing. Looks at Steve. Looks at the drawing.
“that’s a demogorgon,” Steve says.
“no it is not.”
“Yes it is.” He points at the smaller stick figure beside it helpfully. “That’s me. I’m there for size comparison.”
I CANNOT for the life of me get this Vecna Wins AU idea out of my head of El accidentally sending Steve back in time before everyone dies in the final confrontation. Like, everyone is actively dying and she's getting ready to pull some psychic time travel but locks eyes with Steve (also dying) at the very Last Second and—oops.
Now El isn't back in time. Steve is. And he has no idea what to do about it. He's a traumatized, barely adult monster hunter in the body of a preppy seventeen year old. El hasn't escaped yet. Will Byers isn't missing yet. Back to the Future isn't even a thing yet! How is he supposed to explain this to Dustin???
Cue Steve Harrington Panicking (tm). This is crazy!
But then he looks around. And Hawkins isn't destroyed, and Eddie Munson is still listening to awful music, and Bob Newby is still working at Radio Shack, and Chrissy Cunningham is still cheering.
Hell, Barb is still alive.
Steve is nothing if not an improvisor. Obviously this is not the ideal situation—and he isn't the ideal person for this situation—but he'll work with what he's got. First thing's first, he needs to figure out how to wrangle Literally Everyone In Hawkins into a more safe, non-eaten-or-destroyed-in-some-grisly-fashion state. He's a good babysitter so he'll just. Babysit the entire town. Protect them all. Save El. Save the world. Easy.
To do that, Steve decides he's gonna have to murder Henry Creel.
He needs someone smarter than him to tell him what to do. Stat. Where's Robin, again? Oh, right, she hates him right now. And he and Nancy aren't a thing yet but she's too distracted by the potential of Steve flirting and their next chemistry final to have the bandwidth to understand the Upside Down and Psychic Time Travel. Jonathan hates him too. Joyce and Hopper are still normal adults who will Definitely Not Listen To Steve. He has no clue who the hell that Murray guy even is.
So, he'll have to get the Party to help him. The Party, who are tiny, and defenseless, and Do Not Like Him. He needs these evil little geniuses to like him.
Which is how Eddie Munson opens his door one October morning in 1983 to find King Steve on his doorstep, ranting incomprehensibly about demogorgons and begging to learn DnD.
Imagine Eddie who has had a few fumbling encounters with men in cramped bathroom stalls and dark alleyways in Indy and Chicago but is still figuring out his sexual identity. Eddie who has issues of Drummer shoved under his mattress and it's given him Ideas of what he wants to try in the bedroom. Eddie who learns what flagging is and wears a black hanky on his left side, wanting so badly to be a strong, confident Dom
The same Eddie who when he finally gets himself a lapful of Steve (he's so gorgeous and I can't believe he wants me!?) Harrington finds his kinky scenarios and practiced lines falling right out of his head as a litany of "oh my god he wants to me touch him! oh shit!" keeps repeating in his mind
Picture Eddie who wants to try being dominant in bed but he's so down bad for Steve that it makes him stupid. Instead of being able to dom Steve, and make him a begging mess like he wants, Eddie is so infatuated and gobsmacked that he gets to touch someone this beautiful, and take his time enjoying it, that he can barely speak in full sentences let alone try for anything kinkier
Like imagine Eddie overstimulating himself the first time Steve calls him "sir" and begs for Eddie to "please, touch me I need it so bad" that he has to safeword or ask for a breather because he needs a minute to try and collect himself
Somewhere out there on a planet very far away is a civilization that has included our sun in a beloved constellation of some animal we couldn't dream up if we tried
I'm stupid and I don't mean "I feel stupid sometimes"
I'm, in the technical sense, stupid
After the first grade, I was put into homeschool, and while I love my parents... as an almost 29 year old, I can acknowledge that homeschooling was bad for me and my development
Reading is a struggle, I can only do basic addition and subtraction, god forbid you ask me about taxes because I genuinely don't know how the fuck that works
That being said: I can't drive because of anxiety, I've never worked, I don't even have an ID because for YEARS it always got pushed to the side and turned into a "we'll do it next week" followed by something in someone else's life taking priority (again, I'm about to be 29)
I can't support myself, I can't go anywhere without another person, and at basically 29... it feels impossible to fix it
*It's not for a lack of trying, I've gone YEARS trying to get help and convince people that I *want* to do these things but I've now reached the point where... I don't think I CAN
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Author: LiarsandThieves22
Explicit
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
M/M
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Tags: Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, And by everybody I mean literally everybody, Fix-It, first i make it worse, then i do in fact fix it, I once again give Steve Harrington a big found family, slowburn, Period-Typical Homophobia, how slowburn is this you may ask, well 50k words in they have barely touched, the Upside Down doesn't exist anymore but they all remember it, Wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff basically, Therapy happens, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Praise Kink, just a little praise kink but i mean is it a steddie fic without it lbr, Canon Compliant through season 4, Not Canon Compliant with Season 5
Summary
“We saved the world,” Robin said, softly. “And that had some side effects.”
On July 5th, 1987, Steve Harrington bleeds to death in the Upside Down helping his friends defeat Vecna.
Four days later he wakes up in his bed in Hawkins, in a world where the Upside Down never existed.
Here we are at the happily ever after. This was so fun to write. I hope you had as much fun reading it (even if it wasn't your Puss in Boots of choice).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
~
Finally Dustin reached the castle. It was large and imposing and perfect for what he wanted. The final residence of one Edward Munson, Marquess of Hawkins.
He gracefully made his way across the mote and up to the main gate when he was startled by someone calling out to him.
“You do know going that way will get you killed, yes?”
Dustin turned around to see a red-headed girl sticking her head out of one of the arrow slots.
“Hello, Max,” he said brightly. “Is your brother around today?” He bounded up the portcullis and over to her to sit on the windowsill.
“Step,” Max huffed. “And no, he’s gone into town to drink the money the ogre gives us to cook and clean after him.” Dustin just smiled at her. “Which I’m guessing you already knew.”
“It is Tuesday after all,” Dustin said smugly.
“You’re still going to get killed,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re such a lovely cat, I’d hate to see you die.”
“And you’re such a lovely girl,” Dustin huffed, “I’d hate to die and have you cry. But I am much more than I seem.”
“I never said I’d cry,” Max scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Only that it would a waste of a magical cat.”
Dustin just saluted her with his paw and leapt to the floor. He sauntered gracefully up to the ogre’s chambers and slipped into the room.
“So you come at last,” Vecna growled. “I’ve been hearing about you from my servants. I was wondering when you come to see me.”
“And I have been hearing so many wonderful things about you from those same servants,” Dustin replied, doffing his hat and bowing deep.
“You have good manners for a cat,” Vecna huffed. “What makes you so curious about me?”
“A cat’s curiosity is legendary after all,” Dustin said hopping up to a nearby table so that they were more eye to eye. “I had to see you for myself.”
“Well,” he growled. “You’ve seen me, what is your judgment? Am I not fearsome to be hold?”
“Indeed!” Dustin simpered. “I have never seen something so frightening in my many lives.”
Vecna preened. “What else have you heard about me?”
“That you are a master shapeshifter,” Dustin said in awe. “I’ve never met one before. What can you change into?”
“Almost anything!” Vecna boasted and then turned into a large ten point buck, nearly filling the entire room.
“Magnificent!” Dustin cried. “Truly magnificent. Breathtaking even. What about a bear?”
Suddenly there was a black bear where the buck had been and it was no less impressive then said buck.
“Incredible!” he breathed. “Simply awe inspiring!” He thought for a moment and then asked. “What about a bull?”
And of course a massive bull appeared, just as glorious as the other two. Vecna returned back to his original form. “As you see I can change into whatever you ask!”
“I’ve seen you change into large animals, of course, as your own form is great,” Dustin agreed. “But what about smaller animals, like a dog or a sheep?”
Vecna changed into a sleek and regal English Setter. It’s medium length coat was white with grey spots all over.
“Truly remarkable,” Dustin gasped. “Now what about something even smaller, like a mouse or a vole?”
The ogre was smug as he changed into a mouse. But quicker than lightning Dustin pounced on the mouse, every inch of his cat form springing into action. He landed right on the mouse and in a single bite ended the life of the terrible creature once known as Vecna.
Dustin beat and scratched and tore at the mouse the best he could to make sure the beast was dead. He held up the mouse by the mangled tail, contemplating eating it and then promptly threw it out the window. He wasn’t going to eat that thing. It might be poison after all.
He hastily cleaned his paws and face and then ran to the front gate where the Wheeler siblings were waiting. “Let them in!” he cried to Max.
Max hurried to raise the gate, allowing Michael and his sisters through.
“We’ve got about an hour to make this place look like an ogre doesn’t live here,” Nancy said, shoving a chest of clothes at Max.
“But one does!” she protested.
Dustin smiled. “Not anymore!” he said sing-song.
Max’s head rocked back like she had been struck. “Wait, you actually killed him, how?!”
“It’s easy when he’s a mouse!” Dustin chuckled as they swept the castle of everything that could even hint at an ogre having lived there.
They put away the larger tables and chairs and sofas with a little help from Dustin’s magic and replaced it with the normal sized human furniture.
Max and the Wheelers were waiting next to Dustin for when the king and his entourage arrived, having finished in the nick of time.
Max leaned over and asked Dustin, “Who the hell even is this Marquess of Hawkins?”
All the three of the Wheelers turned to him with the same question on their faces.
“Only the best man you’ll will ever meet.”
~
Eddie’s face was starting to stain red from all the compliments the Prince was giving him. From his manner of speech, to his looks and everything in between.
They came to the fisheries and the king stopped, reveling in the crystal blue river emptying out into an even clearer lake.
The king called out to the Byers brothers who had just landed with their catch of the day. “You there! To whom does this beautiful lake and river belong to?!”
Will and Jonathan looked at each other and grinned.
“Why it belongs to our master, the Marquess of Hawkins!” Will cried joyfully.
“He is a gracious master,” Jonathan enthused. “He lets us keep a third of all we catch.”
And Eddie instantly knew that is where Dustin had been getting their fish for their meals. He quickly did the math and knew that he certainly wouldn’t have been getting two-thirds of what these two fished. He wouldn’t have been able to eat it.
“So this is where the Master Cat has been getting that delicious fish from!” Prince Steven gushed.
And that’s where the remaining amount had clearly gone to. Dustin had been bribing the king and these good people to accept him into society. Which if Eddie was honest, was a very clever thing to do.
“It’s good to finally meet you person,” Eddie said with a smile. “Dustin speaks highly of you both!”
The king muttered something about how of course the cat had taken care of everything while the Marquess took care of other business at the castle.
They rode on and next they came across the hunters’ hut on the edge of the beautiful forest.
Lucas and Erica came out, when they heard the carriage rattle to a stop.
“You there!” King Richard called out. “To whom does these glorious woods belong?”
Lucas and Erica fought not to look at each other otherwise they would burst out laughing.
“It belongs to my lord, the Marquess of Hawkins,” Erica informed the king.
“A generous and good man,” Lucas added brightly. “He lets us keep a third of all we trap and kill.”
“A third you say?” the king asked. “That is generous indeed. Does that include the bucks and the boars also?”
Erica scoffed. “We couldn’t eat such large animals for ourselves! The meat would go bad even with a good salting. Those are meant for feasts not casual dining.”
Eddie decided he liked her immediately. She had a good head on her shoulders.
“So you are the one that have trapped those tasty rabbit I had just the other day,” Eddie said positively salivating from the memory. “They were expertly cleaned and butchered. They practically melted in my mouth.”
Prince Steven and King Richard shared a gasp of surprise and awe.
“Then you have been providing the third sent to our tables as well?” the king asked.
“Indeed, your majesty!” Lucas said with a grin, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Though the cat was sly as I assumed the remaining two-thirds was going to our master. But I’m grateful that our humble offers have graced the king’s table. That is a high honor indeed.”
The king flushed with pleasure and turned to Eddie. “You have many great servants, you should be proud.”
“Oh you have no idea,” Eddie replied smugly.
Finally they came to the rows and rows of beehives and they were greeted by the Hoppers.
“To whom to these magnificent hives belong?” King Richard called out to Hopper, who was barely standing on his feet.
“The ogr–” Hopper hiccuped, but was jammed in the side by Eliwen.
“You’ll forgive my father,” she said sadly. “He hasn’t been well in awhile and forgets that there are no ogres in this part of the world. Not anymore. No, these hives belong to the Marquess of Hawkins.”
Again their royal majesties were impressed by the resplendent nature of Eddie’s county.
They conversed with the Hoppers and Eddie did everything he could to convince them that yes all this was his.
And they ate it up.
Lady Robin on the other hand, kept a suspicious eye on Eddie the whole time. She couldn’t voice her concerns with Eddie sitting right next to her best friend, so she leveled him with her best glare.
Eddie caught her expression and winked. He knew it was pointless to try and sway her, she was too shrewd. But he could charm her in the mean time.
That was when he could spare a moment of time from the absolutely ravishing creature who was the prince.
Prince Steven conversed with Eddie as easily as breathing.
Finally they arrived at the castle and again they were greeted by servants. This time it was the Wheelers, and Max Mayfield.
“Your majesties,” Nancy said with a deep bow. “My lady. Welcome home, my lord. I have your garments ready for you to change into.” And she held up this beautiful outfit made out of red velvet and black lace. It was beautiful.
Eddie bowed the king and prince and allowed himself to be lead away. Once he was in ‘his’ room did let his mask drop and freaked out.
Nancy laughed. “Yeah, I assumed you’d want to do that after the afternoon you just had. Judging from your manners, I’d say you were raised with servants for the first ten years of your life by not after. But that’s okay, because that can be explained away by being a country lord.”
“How the hell I am supposed to pretend I’m some lord!” he shrieked.
Dustin hopped up from the bed and landed neatly at Eddie’s feet. “Easily. Your mother died when you were young and your father ran this place into the ground and as such you are still in mourning and finally putting things to right. They’ll eat it right up!”
Eddie scoffed. “All but Lady Robin,” he muttered darkly.
“She’ll come around,” Dustin snorted. “She’ll have to when Prince Steven tells her he’s in love with you.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You didn’t–you wouldn’t–I mean...”
Dustin laughed. “No I didn’t do anything but speak truthfully about you to the prince.”
Nancy scoffed and he cocked his head to the side. “Well all but the being a marquess thing, of course. Which you are now, by the way. This castle belonged to your ancestors so it’s not as though it’s complete lie either.”
Nancy stared at the cat in shock. “I beg your pardon?”
Dustin just waved her off. “Go, we need to get Eddie dressed so he can entertain his very royal guests!”
She turned on her heel and dashed out of the room, leaving a stunned Eddie behind.
“Are you serious?”
Dustin blinked up at him for a moment. “When have I ever lied to you?”
Eddie huffed and rolled his eyes. “Never, but you have absolutely been keeping some pretty big whoppers of lore to suddenly drop them now.”
The cat just stared at him. “Yes, and?”
Eddie opened his mouth to argue but decided it wasn’t worth the effort and hurried to get into the clothes Nancy provided.
He was impressed with how well the fitted considering she had only met him moments before.
“I gave her you measurements,” Dustin said, nonchalant. “And my magic did the rest.”
Eddie ran a hand over the beautifully embroidered brocade on the jacket and then nodded.
“Right, time to face their majesties,” he huffed and walked out, head held high.
The clothes gave him the confidence to walk out there and greet his guests.
Everything was going well, Dustin even managed to win Lady Robin over with intelligent conversation and a patent of nobility showing Eddie’s rights to the county of Hawkins, of course. But far too soon Eddie’s guests had to leave back to the king’s castle.
Prince Steven gave Eddie an embroidered handkerchief that had his royal insignia on it.
Theirs was a whirlwind romance and they were soon engaged to be wed.
The night before the wedding Eddie snuck into the prince’s room and confessed it all to him.
The prince laughed. “I figured it was something like that. You didn’t know your away around a castle you supposedly grew up in. But I don’t mind the subterfuge.”
Eddie raised his head up and blinked at him owlishly. “You don’t?”
Prince Steven shook his head. “No, you did what you had to to get out of a horrible situation. I’m just sorry it took your mother dying you to achieve your dreams.”
Eddie could only agree.
And they lived happily ever after. Dustin now free from his bond to the Munsons by getting them back their ancestral home, decided to stay with them for the company, no one remarking on unusual it was for a cat to live to such an advanced age, after all he was magical.
Wayne visited often and became as endeared to the prince and all the servants as Eddie was.
