An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
(Read the tags!!)
Hi tumblr, the J-centric piece that I've wanted to write for ages just made it out of the trenches.
This one was honestly more of a pain to write than I had anticipated it to be. It turned out much differently than I originally wanted it to, but my brain had its own ideas and I trust it to help alleviate the burdens that come with the primary subject matter. Have fun with this, I suppose!!
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Characters: Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, c!thomas mentioned
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pirate, tsspromptmonth's Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café 2025, Serious Injuries, non-graphic, NO DEATHS, despite Remus' threats to the contrary, captain!Remus, Language Barrier, there's a bit of a mystery in there‚ too‚ so I'm keeping the other tags vague
Summary:
Beaten but unbowed, the crew of the Crofter's Revenge is on the hunt for the British ship that stole their treasure.
And their First Mate's hand.
Those dogs should've thought twice before deciding to tangle with Captain Remus' crew.
Written for @tss-camp-and-coffee‘s Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café for @polarisbees
Citrus tea (Pirates) please! with 2% milk (Hurt/Comfort), Heavy cream (Fluff), Charcoal (Mystery)
Featuring: Starfruit (Janus), Loganberry (Logan), Peach (Patton), Kiwi (Remus), Cherry (Roman), Cranberry (Virgil), Jasmine (C!Thomas), Any/all syrups! Would love to see the main crew (sides + Thomas himself) but feel free to add/remove as you see fit. Some lomoceit or queerplatonic prinxiety would be lovely!
Day 2 for Maribat BioFamily September! Up on AO3 now
Trigger warnings for under the cut: Mention of Miscarriage; Breastfeeding. It's non-graphic, but it is mentioned.
@maribat-calendar-events
Master post
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain wanted children. They had always wanted to be parents and share the love they felt for each other with another human. They had picked out names, painted a nursery and done a dozen courses on keeping a baby safe and healthy. The first time Sabine fell pregnant, they had been so excited that they couldn't keep the news to themselves.
But fate was against them, because after multiple miscarriages, and two babies that started growing in her fallopian tubes, Sabine was left unable to have children naturally. The couple grieved, they mourned and then they decided that fate did not get to decide that they could not be parents. The Dupain-Chengs were more than ready and they would find a way.
As a way to find support, Sabine joined a few groups online, filled with individuals like herself and lamented the life she had believed she was going to have. She shared pictures of her babies that had never arrived, of the things that stayed in the attic room because they had never been used.
One day, someone reached out to her from the international group she was a part of. A couple were in desperate need of a loving couple to take care of a baby they could not afford, and they had been moved by her heartfelt messages. Sabine was wary, but her heart leapt at the thought of finally having a baby of her own.
So she messaged the person back and in return received a message explaining that it would be a closed adoption, the parents did not want to be contacted beyond the day the child would be given to them. They also asked that all medical fees be covered, and the biological mother be compensated for carrying the child to term.
Sabine and Tom received a contract that read more like a surrogacy agreement but they were too excited to think about rewording anything and signed happily. And when it came time, the mother came to France and gave birth there, making it a simple matter of taking the child home once they were cleared for release.
Sabine was present for the birth, standing beside the woman, Janet, who asked for an epidural and gave birth three days after her due date. Sabine watched in awe as the baby - her baby - came into the world, giving a loud wail as she was born.
“It's a girl!” The midwife cried, handing the little bundle to Janet to nurse. It had been something they had discussed at length and both had agreed that any nutrients and natural defenses Janet was able to offer the newborn would be for the best. But once she was full and ready for cuddles, Janet immediately handed the baby to Sabine for skin-to-skin contact.
Looking down at the tiny child, Sabine swore that she would do anything for her baby. It didn't matter that she had not given birth herself, this little girl was her baby and she would not allow harm to come to her.
_ _ _
When Sabine went home with Tom and the baby, - Marinette, they had decided to call her Marinette - they fell into an easy routine. Sabine would wrap Marinette in a sling whilst working on the pastries for the day, and Tom often wrapped one around himself when Sabine was working the register.
It felt like no time at all until Marinette was at school and navigating the ins and outs of social life. They had been upfront about the fact that she was brought into their family because they wanted her, that they had waited for her and loved her so much that they had adopted her at birth.
And then, when their baby was fourteen and already struggling with a bully, Hawkmoth had appeared and terrorised the citizens of Paris. They had watched their daughter go from cripplingly shy to confident and they would have been idiots not to guess at the reason.
So when Hawkmoth had been defeated, they had pulled Marinette into a tight hug and explained that they knew she had been Ladybug, had listened to her declarations to the public that it was dangerous for anyone to know the heroes identities and decided to wait to tell her.
And so, they had encouraged her to contact the Justice League and get as much help as possible now that there was no risk of super powered individuals falling prey to Hawkmoth's machinations. They also accepted Adrien to their household immediately, although it was a little disappointing that it clearly wouldn't be as the son-in-law they had thought he would be.
When Marinette received the formal invitation from the Waynes of Gotham to spend time at their estate to get away, they had pushed her to accept. And when she had accepted, they received the bombshell that she did, in fact, have family in Gotham. Her birth parents had been dead for some time, which shocked all three of them, but she had an older brother who wanted to meet her.
Yes, Marinette would get a lot of good from visiting the Waynes, and they would still see her as Ladybug when she was called as a witness for Hawkmoth's trial.
i’m honor of my birthday, i want to tell the whole internet how adhd my mother is.
she was watching a spider on the windowsill as she was giving birth (to me) and told the nurse “it’s intricate. the spider web is so intricate.” and the nurse looked at her and just went “you need to focus.”
Now on a first-name basis, Dr. Rowan Whitethorn and Dr. Aelin Galathynius find themselves struggling to keep up their professional demeanor. And when a new bone is found on site, Rowan learns that Aelin's expertise extends beyond the human body.
The continued love and support for this piece is blowing my mind. I am having a blast writing this, I am so happy you like reading it. Hopefully, there's enough fluff and pining in this chapter to balance the technical jargon.
Part 2 | Part 4 | Fic Masterlist
Warnings: Human Remains (Non Graphic)
2426 words
*******
Muttering to herself, Aelin was trying to decipher her notes in Fenrys’ writing. Between his fast-paced script and random comments comparing bones to cereal pieces, it was taking her longer to get through than she’d prefer.
Leaning back in her chair she sighed. Maybe she should take a break. Perhaps a walk around the site to clear her head and get some fresh air. And see a certain lead archaeologist.
“Dr. Galathyinus!”
Aelin whirled around from the laptop she was using to type up her report. A small group of young students had stepped into her workstation. One, the boy at the front of the group who was holding a small container very carefully, looked excited. The other two students, who she noted didn't come in as far, looked warily at the bodies laid out on the observation tables
But Aelin’s attention was dragged to the man standing behind the students. The man who Aelin had just been about to try to accidentally run into.
He ran a hand through his silver hair and shot her an apologetic look at the intrusion.
The boy in front, Luca, she reminded herself─she had been trying to learn everyone's names but it was a bit difficult when she spent most of her time in her workstation and not in the dig pit─stepped forward.
“You gotta see what we found!” He thrust the box he was holding towards her. “We were digging the new test pit and Dr. Whitethorn was showing us how to use the trowels without breaking them,” He looked so excited about what he was about to tell her that she refrained from asking him to slow down. “We were just digging, and of course it was all dirt, dirt, dirt,” he glanced at Rowan who was fighting his own smile at the boy’s enthusiasm.
“Sorry Dr. Whitethorn, I mean it was all sediment. Dirt doesn't exist in archaeology, use something more specific” Lucca finished, imitating Rowan’s teaching voice.
That caused Aelin to smile, even as─especially as─Rowan scowled.
“Anyways,” the boy rushed on, turning back to Aelin. “We were digging and suddenly we saw something that wasn't dirt─sediment, sorry sir─and we had to be careful not to break anything in case it was something cooler than just a rock. Not that rocks aren't cool,” he paused, looking embarrassed, “don’t let my geology professor hear me say that.”
The enthusiasm of young students never failed to make Aelin happy. Her smile stretched into a grin. Rowan watched Aelin listen to Luca and lost the scowl on his own face, replacing it with a grin to match her own.
Luca got back on track. “So we dug around it.” Glancing at Rowan, he added, “keeping level the whole time, of course.” Turning back towards Aelin, he continued. “And we found this!”
He removed the cloth that was covering whatever had been in the box.
“More bones!” He looked so proud.
Several different thoughts ran through her head at once.
Why is there only one bone?
What happened to the rest of the skeleton?
Did they leave more in the pit?
No, she doubted Rowan would have let them take one and leave the rest.
But the one thing she immediately knew─and knew would crush the poor boy who looked so thrilled to have found more human remains for her─was this:
That’s definitely not human.
The moment Aelin saw what was in the box, Rowan watched her face turn from intrigued to confused to an almost reluctantly apologetic one. Their eyes locked as she glanced away from the bone. A small smile lit her face before she turned to take the box from Luca. Placing it gently down on an open table, she carefully removed the dusty bone.
It was a scapula.
Clearly, not a human one, but the boy looked so excited that she knew she’d have to be gentle about letting him down.
“Thank you for bringing this to me,” she offered him a smile she usually reserved for her anxious students. “I’ll take a closer look at this, but, I’m sorry to tell you, this isn't a human scapula.”
His face dropped, and the two students behind him seemed a little relieved about finding out the bone they helped uncover didn't come from a person. Rowan stepped forward to get a better look at the bone she was holding.
“You two,” he nodded towards the students in the back, “are free to go back to the pit.” They were out the door before he finished his sentence. Huffing a laugh, he brought his gaze back to Aelin and a disappointed-looking Luca.
Staring at the bodies on the table next to him, Luca pleaded, “Are you sure?”
Luca looked at the bone in her hand longingly. Then his head snapped back up towards Aelin with a faint blush staining his cheeks and added, “Sorry Dr. Galathynius. Of course, you're sure, you know what you’re talking about.” He sighed. “Okay, well I guess I’ll go back and see if I can find anything else cool.”
When Rowan nodded his approval, Luca turned and walked out of her workstation.
She glanced up at Rowan before returning her attention to the brown, dirt-covered, bone. Sorry, sediment-covered bone, she thought with a smirk.
“Poor kid,” Aelin commented, still turning over the scapula, “he was so excited.”
She appreciated how excited the boy had been. She remembered her own eagerness when she had first started working with bones, realizing that studying them was what she loved and wanted to spend her time doing.
Rowan watched her become entranced with the intricacies of the bone. “He was.”
Aelin could feel his eyes on her as she felt a rough edge, and heard his accent deepen as he continued to say, “But he'll find something new to keep him excited about the dig.”
She could’ve sworn he stepped closer at that. Dragging her eyes from the bone, she met his stare. Yes, he had inched closer to her, forcing her to look up even farther to meet his gaze.
She swallowed and noticed his eyes dip to track the movement.
“May I?” He murmured, gesturing to the bone she now loosely gripped.
Blinking, Aelin cleared her throat.
“Yeah,” she subtly shook herself, “Mm, yes, you may.” She handed him the bone and their fingers brushed as he took it from her. They both looked down at the contact and the physical touch seemed to jolt them both back to reality.
Ugh, they were working. They were standing in her workstation, two feet away from a couple of long-dead bodies, where anyone could walk in and see─
See what?
What was happening? They had gotten on a first name basis and ever since─or before that, if she was being honest with herself─she knew she felt some tension, some spark...but she couldn't tell if it was all in her head.
She didn't think so. Not with how he had just been looking at her.
But they were colleagues. Gods, how many times did she have to remind herself of that.
Regardless of whether or not she was making up the heat between them, they still had to work together for the rest of the season and she didn't want to make things weird or awkward and still have to see his face every day. His handsome, tan, face.
He was her friend, of that much she was certain. A first-name basis meant friends. She could pull it together and ignore her non-friendly thoughts.
Her ‘If you wanted to bend me over this table right now, I would whole-heartedly let you’ thoughts.
Not now, Aelin! She was a professional, she had her PhD. for gods’ sake. She was here to do a job. She could do this.
Rowan’s voice pulled her back into the moment.
“You knew immediately that this wasn't human,” Rowan flipped the bone around in his hand, “How?”
Squaring her shoulders and taking another deep breath she looked at the flat, paddle-like bone.
Teacher-mode time.
She pointed to the broad, triangular surface, “For starters,” she ran her finger along the top, leveled edge. “The Blade of a human scapula is rounder, elongated, and points outwards on an angle.”
Lifting a human scapula from one set of remains from the table beside her, she showed him what she meant. Side-by-side he could see how different they looked. He supposed it wasn't surprising that someone like Aelin, who spent her time constantly looking at different sets of human remains, wouldn't need the comparison to instantly know there was a difference.
Bringing his attention back to the new bone, she said “This one’s Blade has a very flat top, almost like,” she paused trying to think of something to equate it to, “a spatula.”
Rowan snorted, “The spatula scapula?”
Grinning, she quipped, “Try saying that five times fast.”
He matched her grin.
She held out her hand and he gave her back the bone as she placed the human one back on the table.
“That flat edge,” she continued, “tells me that this belonged to an ungulate, not a carnivore. Something like a cow, or a horse, or a deer.”
Aelin flipped the scapula in her hand so that he could see the round, concave, indentation on the opposite end.
“This,” she felt the indent just big enough to fit her thumb, “is the Glenoid Fossa. This is what the humerus would use to rotate at the shoulder. You can see that this one,” she motioned around its edge, “is very round, almost circular.” He watched her trace the space of it.
The way her fingers glided along the edge almost reverently. He wouldn’t mind watching her fingers move along other things.
Aelin kept explaining, “One on a human looks more like a rounded teardrop. Based on the shape I know that this is either from a Bovid: some kind of cow, sheep, or goat; or a Cervid: a deer or elk-like animal.”
Her brow scrunched and she pursed her lips in concentration. For a moment, he thought she may have forgotten he was there, she was so lost in thought studying the bone.
Trying to wrap his head around everything she was telling him, Rowan leaned closer to see the features more clearly. He admitted that her without-a-doubt explanation was impressive. And wondered if he’d be able to show her some of his work with the same enthusiasm. He hoped.
Aelin allowed herself a moment to appreciate his closeness before returning to the bone in hand. How did he smell so good after being out in the pit all day? Was that pine? It was incredibly unfair. And incredibly distracting.
She showed him a round protrusion coming off the side of the Glenoid Fossa. “This is the Supraglenoid Tubercle.”
Rowan knew it took a special kind of person to make words like Supraglenoid Tubercle sound fascinating. And Aelin most certainly did.
“You can feel the sides of it.” She showed him where she meant and he gently placed a finger on either side of the bone.
It took a lot of energy to stop her train of thought as she watched him use his thumb and forefinger to grip the rounded nub.
Deep breath, Aelin.
“You can,” she cleared her throat, “you can feel that it's mostly round. There aren't extra concavities on it. If there were, then those would indicate that this came from a Cervid.”
Pulling herself back into her professional, non-teenage-like hormonal, state of mind she concluded.
“Based on those features, I can tell you that this comes from some sort of Bovid.” She turned the bone again to see a different angle. Concentrating, trying to remember all she knew, she sighed. “It’s definitely Bovid, but I don't know enough about faunal remains to give you a species.”
After placing the bone back in the box, she looked up at him again.
“Based on the size I want to say it’s going to be either a sheep or a goat, but I don't know enough about faunal remains or,” she nodded her head towards the door, indicating the dig site outside, “enough about the historical context of this site during the time period to give you an accurate species. The taxa is the best I can do.”
If that's what she could do without ‘knowing enough’ about faunal remains, Rowan knew he’d be impressed by whatever a specialist could figure out.
Although he doubted he'd enjoy their explanations more than Aelin's.
Looking around her supplies thoughtfully she said, “Back when I was an undergrad, I took a full course on zooarchaeology.”
“Zooarchaeology,” he laughed, “I always liked that that's what we call the study of animal bones in archaeology. Every time I hear it I think of people trying to dig around in zoo enclosures.”
She laughed at that, and Rowan felt proud of himself for getting her to make that sound.
Smiling wistfully, Aelin told him, “I had this binder full of beautiful, detailed notes and illustrations of different bones. We learned how to determine a dozen different taxa of animals.” Sighing again, she went on. “But I didn't bring those notes with me, I think they are still in my office back home.”
A thought occurred to her and she brightened immediately. She faced Rowan with a satisfied look.
“I have a colleague, she’s my friend really, who’s amazing at faunal examination. I can give her a call and see if she can figure out what species this,” she motioned to the bone, “came from.”
That sounded like a good plan. He also began thinking of local specialists who might know more about the animals of this particular area, maybe one of them could give some insight.
Tilting her head to the side and smiling, Aelin held Rowan’s gaze, “If you know the species then you, Mr. Lead Archaeologist, can better determine why exactly it was there in the first place.”
He smirked.
“Studying up on my processes, Aelin?” Rowan questioned with a raised brow.
He was teasing her for the comment she made about him knowing there were eight different carpal bones.
He liked teasing her. He liked calling her Aelin even more.
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, her smile morphing into a smirk to rival his own, she replied, “Unlike you, Rowan, I didn't need to study up, I already all know about your processes.”
He decided he liked when she called him Rowan, most of all.
***
Part 2 | Part 4
*****
If you’d like to be tagged shoot me a message or reply!
A/N: And here’s Part 2, finally, as promised! It’s a little more lengthy than Part 1, because I was struggling to figure out exactly how I wanted to end it, but... I eventually figured it out, and here it is! I’m actually really happy with how this turned out, and I hope all of you who read this enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Next on my posting schedule is another chapter of Not Today- still due out on Friday night/Saturday morning as always! And, until then, dear readers, thank you for indulging this idea until I got it out! Skål!
Pairings: Ivar x Katia, Ivar x Freydis
Word Count: 3,222
Summary: Ivar believed he killed Freydis in Kattegat, but fate seemed to have other plans for the Viking King and his wife. She survived, and sought refuge far in the North, where she is captured by the Kievian Rus, and offered sanctuary and a new identity- in exchange for information, and the marriage of a Norse Queen to Prince Oleg. (AU where Freydis really is Katia)
Months and months passed, and Katia no longer cared if she remained disguised. She sat Igor down one day, when she was close enough to giving birth that he’d begun to visit her in her chambers so she’d not have far to go, and sighed, telling him she had to explain something to him.
Igor’s brows creased together as he prepared to listen to whatever it was Katia had to say. He’d noticed the way her hair was beginning to turn blonde from the top, how the dark black was growing out, and now started around the base of her skull. Needless to say, the boy had questions.
“Igor, come and sit,” she said gently, and patted the edge of her bed. “You know I came here after you and Ivar both had already arrived, yes? You remember?”
Igor nodded, answering, “Da, I remember.” He moved to sit beside her, and she reached an affectionate hand up to brush her fingers through his hair. He already looked so much older to her than when she’d first met him. How could that be? The smile on her face was clearly reminiscent of this time, and she sighed a little.
“I have a confession to make,” she began. “I was introduced to you, and to Ivar, as Princess Katia, but… The truth is, my name is not Katia. I am not a Rus Princess, and… clearly, you have seen over the last few months that my hair is not even black. It is blonde.”
Igor watched her with creased brows, the shock not quite registering on his face as he heard her say she wasn’t a Princess, and wasn’t even called Katia. He knew her well enough that whatever she was telling him, it was because she thought it would benefit him to know, and she wasn’t going to hurt him- no matter what she said. He didn’t believe she was a different woman than he knew her to be, just because her identity wasn’t the same as he had first thought.
“You must have heard Ivar speak of his wife, hm?” she prompted. “Freydis?” The name almost felt foreign in her mouth now, after having been Katia for so long. But when Igor again answered affirmatively, she took a deep breath. This was it. “Well…” Her voice shifted a little as she stopped speaking as a Rus Princess, returning to the natural timbre it once had, higher pitched, a little sweeter. “I am Freydis, Igor. I did not die in Kattegat.”
The shock showed on his face this time, his eyes widening entirely as he stared at her. The closeness to Ivar now made sense, he figured. The willingness to do whatever the Viking had asked. She was his wife, and obviously, she loved him. That didn’t mean everything was cleared up for the boy, however, and so he asked, “Then… Oleg? Was he never your husband?”
Katia- Freydis- grimaced slightly. “That is… no. I did not ever consider him to be my husband. I am a Viking, Igor, not Rus. The ceremony I was in that was meant to bind me to Oleg required vows to be made to the Christian God. I know those beliefs are yours, but they are not mine.”
Her hand came to cup his cheek affectionately, and she kept a warm smile on her face. This was likely to be jarring for him, and the more he considered her words, the more he began to wonder if… maybe he did have her wrong. He was safe, there was no doubt, but did this mean he had never really known her? Were there other things she had lied about and kept from him?
“I want to ask you something,” he said. Freydis recognised the more assertive way he was saying that as something Ivar must have taught him, though she also imagined Ivar would not have asked to ask anything, or even announced it. He’d have just asked. But, Igor- for all the things he’d learned from Ivar- was still Igor. She was glad for that.
“Of course,” she replied. “Ask me anything. I know I have left you with… much to consider.”
Igor nodded, and took a deep breath. “How much of… everything, was a lie? You say you did not consider yourself married to Oleg. You were married to Ivar. So you did not love who you claimed to, and loved who you claimed not to. What about…”
Freydis knew what he was asking, even as his voice drifted off, and he shifted uncomfortably. “You?” she finished, and he nodded. “Oh, Igor… Come here, my love.”
She opened her arms to him, and he shifted so she could hold him like she did so long ago at dinner with Ivar and Oleg, the night Oleg had busted up his puppet of the King. Ivar had held him the same way later that night, and with that added to how Katia- no, Freydis, he reminded himself- had held him earlier… It had cemented his view of them in his mind, as the parental figures he’d missed for so long. And though he missed Ivar, missed the man he saw as a father, Freydis’s arms around him felt the same as always. Her name was different, as was the story of her life, but the woman… she was the same.
And, as he came to this conclusion, she actually began to voice this to him. “Whatever lies I have told to save my own life, I have never once lied about my affections for you, sweet child. Not to you, nor to anyone else. You have my word, in the sight of the gods, that this is true.”
After that day, Igor had come to call her Freydis, had grown used to the Norse accent in her voice, the one that sounded so much more like Ivar’s than Oleg’s, as opposed to the Rus, and he realised the truth had not changed that he still loved her like she was his own mother. And she still played that role in his life. She cared for him more than any maid or servant in Kiev, and he liked it that way.
It could have only been made better by Ivar’s presence.
It wasn’t until a month later, so close to Freydis’s time to have the child that seemed to grow daily in her womb, that she finally came to a decision. Ivar had been gone for eight months now, and with every passing day she would look out over the horizon, picture him with some new woman- a new wife, perhaps- in Kattegat, and her heart would ache.
She missed Ivar the Boneless with her very soul, and she wanted nothing more than to have him at her side when she had their baby. So… she decided to do what she’d once believed was unthinkable.
Freydis sat down, and she wrote a long, detailed letter to Ivar. She told him everything in that letter. The truth about her identity, everything that had brought her to Kiev, and all the ways and reasons she hid her identity from him through the duration of their relationship in Rus.
She also confessed to him how she had come to love him once more, how her heart ached for him, and how she missed him so much she would often imagine him walking through the gates of Kiev, coming to find her once more.
After debating on whether or not to actually send the letter, Freydis eventually came to the decision that he did deserve to know. After all, she would be having his child so soon she could feel it. The baby was moving and kicking in her womb, and she spent long hours at night talking to the child, already telling them of their father’s adventures and triumphs. The night she sent the letter, she told the child what she’d done, and how she hoped at least that Ivar would come to meet their baby.
And hope for that she did.
Nothing came of the letter for a month at least, not until she’d even been feeling labor pains that weren’t yet signalling the baby’s arrival. In fact, nothing came of that letter until Freydis had screamed and cried for hours on end, pain ripping through her body and causing her shrieks to be so jarring that Igor, outside the room, was beginning to wonder if she would survive.
He’d never heard a woman give birth before, but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing was normal or healthy. Something had to have been going wrong. (Even after the birth, when Freydis could assure him all had gone well, and she’d endured this once before, he was convinced that she was only saying that so he wouldn’t worry.)
But he smiled as he looked at the sleeping girl she held to her chest, and eventually, he asked Freydis, “Can I hold her?”
Freydis grinned, and she nodded, handing the baby over to Igor. He was beaming as she reminded him to support the baby’s head, and hold her close, making sure not to drop any part of her. “She is perfect, is she not?” the woman asked, and Igor nodded slowly.
“I always hoped I might have a sister,” he confessed to her, and if Freydis was shocked by Igor revealing to her- entirely subconsciously- that he saw her as his mother, she didn’t show it. Instead, she simply smiled, and tucked the blanket up around the baby’s chin.
“And now you do,” she said. “The gods have been good to us all, Igor.” He smiled, and nodded his agreement.
“What will you call her?” he finally asked, and Freydis gave a small hum.
“I have not chosen, I don’t think,” she admitted. “Nothing I have thought of sounds quite right. But it will come to me, I am certain.”
Another few days passed, and as Freydis was walking through the market, cradling her newborn daughter to her chest and talking to Igor, she was beginning to feel frustrated. She had allowed Igor to help her try and think up a name, and yet nothing had really satisfied either of them. Still, nothing would come to them.
But that day, the perfect name would come.
It came in such a way that Freydis had gone white from shock, looking up at the gate that opened, seeing the man who passed through it. When Igor saw her face, he didn’t yet turn to look and see what she was seeing, instead commenting, “You look as though you have seen a ghost.”
“I have,” she answered.
His eyes finally followed her gaze as she began walking towards the gates, and they widened, before a grin broke out across his lips and he hurried to catch up with his mother- for that really was what they both knew her to be, now.
Ivar the Boneless had an easier time walking through the markets of Kiev when there was no snow on the ground, during the summer months. During his battle in Wessex, he’d thought of nothing more than wanting to live, so he could return to Kiev to Freydis, and Igor, and the- hopefully healthy- child he hoped would be there with her.
When he saw the baby in Freydis’s arms, his heart dropped into his stomach. He didn’t know if he was ready to be a father- the thought terrified him to no end- but his wife stood there, with the boy he thought of as his own son, and a new child. Whether he was ready or not, it didn’t matter. His destiny was upon him.
And his eyes began to burn as he finally came to meet her. She looked up at him with an adoring smile, her heart pounding, as she said, “Hello, Ivar.” His heart melted.
“Hello, Freydis.”
If not for the baby in her arms, Ivar would have kissed her right there in the middle of that marketplace. After all, she was his wife, wasn’t she? And he’d been away from her for nine months. The people would have had to have gotten over it.
His fingers brushed over the baby’s head slowly, as if afraid he might break her just by touching her, and when he blinked, water began to leak from his eyes. Freydis’s own eyes reflected this as she watched his face. The smile on her face had only warmed, grown softer, and she seemed to be melting inside as she watched him with the little newborn girl.
“Ivar,” she eventually said, and he gave a small, “Hm?” to show he was now listening. “Do you want to hold your daughter?”
He finally looked at Freydis again, the words sending a sort of chill down his spine.
His daughter…
“She is too perfect to be mine,” he said softly, and Freydis shook her head.
“She is yours, I assure you,” she promised. “She’s ours.”
With that, she offered the baby to Ivar, and he reached out to take her, a quiet, almost choked cry coming from the Viking as he cradled his baby girl in his arms for the first time. He had once told Freydis that he’d only ever loved her, and his mother. And though that remained true, as he also knew he loved Hvitserk, and Igor as well, he realised he’d never felt a love quite like this.
The girl’s eyes opened, and she squealed with delight as she looked at her father’s face for the first time. Right then, Ivar knew he’d bring the world to heel for her, if it were in his power. Anything she wanted, he would give her. If he had to bring the sky to the earth at her request, he would give it everything he could.
“What is her name?” he asked, his voice soft and almost cracking under the emotion he felt in his chest.
“We haven’t yet chosen,” Freydis began to explain, but he cut her off before she could finish.
“Katia,” he said. “Because that is the name of the woman who brought her mother back to me.”
Freydis smiled a little, and even Igor thought it was right as he watched her nod.
“Katia,” she agreed. “Katia Ivarsdottir.”
This brought a wide grin to Ivar’s face, and he and Freydis both laughed a little when Igor stepped up to look at his sister again, and greet her properly for the first time. “Hello, Katia,” he said. “I am Igor, your brother.”
Ivar gave Freydis a curious look when Igor called himself Katia’s brother, and she smiled. “It is true, isn’t it?” she whispered to him while the boy was occupied, and Ivar realised… it really was.
And so, he handed Katia over to Igor to hold her and fuss over her as he’d taken to doing, so he could wrap an arm around Freydis, pulling her close to himself. She smiled up at him as her hands came to rest against his chest.
“You have been very busy, my love,” he told her, and chuckled as if to himself. “I would have never imagined such mischief to be anything you were capable of.”
“It was not mischief, it was survival,” she said, teasing him with the Rus accent she had put on when disguised as Katia, and he chuckled.
“Well, there is no need for this now,” he said. “You are my wife, and your children are my children. I will guarantee your survival, along with our son’s and daughter’s. You are my family, and I will protect you all.”
Freydis smiled at him, and nodded a little. Without all the change she’d seen in him there in Kiev, she’d have doubted that statement. But now, on the other side of all they’d gone through together, she was honestly able to tell him, “I know you will.”
Ivar leaned down then to finally kiss his wife, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. Oh, this felt like the most right thing in the world to him.
He didn’t kiss her for as long as he’d have liked to, but only because he wanted now to properly greet the boy who would now be his son. So, he turned to Igor, who was now handing Katia back to Freydis, and caught the boy off guard in a tight embrace.
Igor grinned and laughed happily at the slight ambush. He was more grateful than anything for them to have all come back together, especially with the added fact that he now had a little sister. “Will you stay this time?” he questioned, looking up at Ivar even as he hadn’t let the Viking go just yet.
“Who am I to tell the gods I do not accept my fate, hm?” Ivar asked him with a playful grin. “Of course I will stay. And you have had to take care of your mother for long enough now. It’s time I finally take that responsibility from you, don’t you think?”
Igor grinned and hugged his father tightly once again. He didn’t think he’d ever be happier than he was in that moment.
The family had retreated back into their palace, and Ivar and Freydis never spoke again of what had happened between them in Kattegat. Both had changed drastically since then, and it was understood that they’d become different people entirely.
But Ivar still saw the ghost of that woman from Kattegat, whenever he saw Freydis acting as the Queen of Rus, mother to the King, and yet he saw the ghost of Princess Katia whenever the family would sit around the dinner table, and Igor would come and sit up against her.
Truly, his wife had evolved into an enigma, with two lives living in and shining through her at once, resulting in a type of… ghostly queen, almost. In fact, because of this, he took to calling her his Ghost Queen, who could be the ghost of either woman at any time, while still being fully her.
It would have been a difficult thing for him to have tried to explain, but he knew he didn’t have to. Freydis understood each time he called her that, what he meant.
Igor and Katia grew, and they weren’t the last children Freydis and Ivar had together. He was proud to say he never missed another birth, and he was proud to remain in Kiev with his family, which only ever seemed to grow.
Hvitserk came to visit often- more often than not- though he was still busy ruling Kattegat, after unseating the woman who’d claimed, as the widow of Björn Ironside, it had been her right. But his claim went undisputed by the population, when he reminded them that he was the only brother of Björn who was left to take the throne, and the only Son of Ragnar as well.
And so for many years into the future, Norway and Rus enjoyed a beneficial and prosperous relationship with each other, all because of the queen who’d vanished from thin air in Kattegat, and appeared in the same way in Kiev. Ivar’s title for her became the name history would remember her by, and just as the name Ivar the Boneless would never be forgotten, neither would the name of Freydis, the Ghost Queen.
Anon Asks: Thanks! I was thinking of another hurt/comfort, but if you could turn it into fluff then I’m all for it! When LY asked QCS “which would you choose: pride or money” and they both chose pride... I wondered what would make LY choose QCS over pride, or have QCS choose LY. Granted I’m only on episode 15 but I’m totally fine with spoilers! Or if that’s a little much... maybe a little moment where LY can flaunt his own family credentials to save QCS (and BYN)?
And here ya go for your second prompt anon! I’m sorry it kind of got away from me again and ended up being... ~4000 words.
--
wish i could
When a new gang comes to town and kidnaps Chusheng and Youning to force Boss Bai to give up his authority in the Concessions area, Lu Yao decides he’s going to go grab them himself. He is, after all, a member of the Lu family and Lu Zifu raised no weakass kid (when it counts).
--
Read it in full below
One would think that after the entire debacle with Norman and the British, after Lu Yao’s siblings playing all the tricks they know in the book to get Lu Yao to leave Shanghai and go home to Hai Ning with them, after almost having to marry Youning and into the Bai family, Lu Yao would finally be able to live the way he’s always wanted to.
He has friends who cherish him, access to all the best restaurants in the city, a nice apartment and a job he’s incredibly fond of — a job that comes with the perks of frequent free meals and pretty, expensive things when he wants them.
And even if Lu Yao had none of those things, he would stay, if only to have Qiao Chusheng in his line of vision constantly. To see the man’s indulgent smile when Lu Yao demands for things, to watch him command his men or exercising shirtless in the mornings at the police station, but mostly to enjoy the warmth that spreads in his chest like an unfurling flower whenever Chusheng looks at him like he’s the only thing that matters.
He knows he means something to Qiao Chusheng, even if they haven’t acted on their feelings yet. Lu Yao isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, but he is unbelievably happy and contented like this.
So he’s not best pleased when he returns to Shanghai after two weeks at home visiting his sister and father, to see Ah Dou and Salim at the train station, their expressions grim.
“… where’s Lao Qiao?” asks Lu Yao with a frown, dragging his humongous luggage behind him as he looks around, as if Chusheng will pop up with ice-cream for him anytime now.
“Lu-ge,” Ah Dou calls as he usually does these days, his face ashen. “Bai-laoye is looking for you.”
And that’s when Lu Yao knows everything has gone to shit.
Lu Yao is still afraid of seeing Bai Qili despite being on exceptionally good terms with his children and once-a-week dinners at the Bai manor with Chusheng and Youning.
Before his mind can run wild as to why he’s being brought to see Bai-laoye, Salim explains simply, “Inspector Qiao and Bai-xiaojie were kidnapped two days ago.”
For a split second, Lu Yao almost scoffs.
A kidnapping?
What utter nonsense. Who in Shanghai would dare to touch Qiao Si-ye, feared across the city with a fierce and deadly reputation that precedes himself? And even if Chusheng was captured, with Youning too? That noisy, ridiculous and bad-tempered daughter of the revered Green Dragon Gang’s leader?
One not only has to have the competency to actually capture Chusheng and Youning, but also a pressing death wish to go through with it.
He wants to laugh and chide them for pulling such an unbelievable joke, but another glance at both men has his thudding heart beat even faster in anxiety. Ah Dou, for one, has a cut on his left cheek and looks a little too pale to be at the peak of health, and while Salim’s expressions often border on the sides of either confusion or blankness, the way the lines at his forehead pulls at his skin is unmistakable.
Lu Yao dashes into the house when they arrive before Man-jie even opens the doors for him. A turn to the left from the mansion’s lobby takes him to the living room, where Bai-laoye is seated.
“… Lao Qiao and Youning were kidnapped?” blurts Lu Yao without a single greeting.
Bai Qili looks up at his entrance and without berating him for his lack of manners, gestures for him to take a seat and says, “You’re back.”
“Where are they? If they were kidnapped why haven’t we gone over to get them back yet?” Lu Yao asks, but sits his arse down on the expensive leather couch anyway.
The old man doesn’t say anything for a moment as he considers the tea setup in front of him on the table. The water is obviously cold, the lack of steam rising from the pot and teacups not escaping Lu Yao’s notice. Bai Qili has been sitting here for a while then, but Lu Yao can’t quite read his expression.
On the table next to the teapot is a black ornamental box.
“With Norman and Anderson out of the picture, there was a gap in power as you know,” Bai Qili begins just as Lu Yao is about to panic again, “The Green Dragon Gang and my trusted people were put into positions that will help secure our power in the region for the next few years to come, but the British slowly restructuring the way their people will be placed here has also allowed some other gangs to take advantage of the situation. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the She Tou Gang?”
“Like… a snakehead?”
“They’re originally from Suzhou, but some dispute they had with another larger gang there forced them out of the city and here to Shanghai where they heard there are some territories to be taken.”
Why is he saying all this? Lu Yao watches in bewilderment as Bai Qili picks up a cigar and lights it, looking as if he’s aged a decade all of a sudden as he leans into the couch. One puff, two puffs, before he continues.
“And now they’ve taken Chusheng and Youning as hostages to force me to cede territory and the Concessions area to them.”
Lu Yao doesn’t understand why Bai Qili looks so shaken and afraid for a long moment — the man has always been the pinnacle of stability and a symbol of fear to Lu Yao, and in the confusion of the entire situation, he doesn’t get why Bai Qili hasn’t stormed the snakehead’s headquarters or whichever hole they’re hiding in with the rest of the gang to get Chusheng and Youning out.
With a sudden burst of clarity, Lu Yao snatches at the box on the table and opens it.
Lying at the bottom of the box are two cleanly severed fingers, one clearly of lighter skin and more dainty than the other.
On the thinner finger, Lu Yao recognises a very familiar ring. It’s the one he fake-proposed to Youning with, the one she kept even after admitting to everyone that their marriage was a simple sham, the one with a small diamond in it that made her want to wear it as an everyday accessory, to flaunt the favour that Lu Yao owes her for helping him.
And worse is the other finger. It’s one that belongs to a hand he so adores, a hand that hands him the things he wants. The hand that always, without fail, manages to bring him home.
Lu Yao inhales sharply as ice sinks into his skin and bones, feeling his gag reflex as the urge to throw up slams into his gut.
“You know where they are?” he asks, his voice eerily even. “And they’re from Suzhou you said?”
“San Tu, sit down. I have until tomorrow to get to the papers and make an announcement,” the man continues. “I’m not risking their lives, nor yours. It is only some property, some money and investments. We can deal with them after we get Chusheng and Youning out.”
Lu Yao’s head is running through all the possibilities, and it takes him less than a minute to decide on the best course of action.
“Tell me where they are, and lend me Salim. I’ll get them back,” he declares. “Lao ye-zi, hold off on the announcement. If I’m not back by the next morning, it’s not too late to consider that option.”
Bai Qili finally looks up, and the way his gaze rests on Lu Yao right now, it’s as if he’s seeing this man, who Youning and Chusheng have both claimed as one of their own, for the very first time. Seeing him properly, seeing him beyond his vanity, his greed and how timid he usually is.
This Lu Yao is finally looking like a member of the Lu family, one of Lu Zifu’s children.
And he knows that Chusheng must’ve seen something in him, to be so willing to lay his life on the line for his well-being and safety.
“… if any of them lose another finger,” the man concedes, “I’ll do as I planned. And if you end up losing a finger, I’m not going to deal with Lu Zifu or Lu Miao either. If this all goes to shite, we can all go to war. Ah Dou and Liu Zi know where they’re at. Take them both.”
That’s as much approval as he’s going to get.
Lu Yao shakes his head, “I’ll only need Salim and the rest of the men at the station on standby. Liu Zi and Ah Dou should stay with you in case they’ve got another plan in place, lao ye-zi. I don’t want Youning or Lao Qiao scolding me either if you get hurt.”
Bai Qili scoffs, and even though it’s entirely illogical, he suddenly feels a little more… settled. A little more at ease, as if Lu Yao can truly solve this without it escalating into war.
On the way out, Lu Yao uses the house phone to call his sister, who isn’t amused that he’s calling for a favour only a day after he left home.
When she hears what is going on, however, Lu Miao sighs audibly on the other end of the call.
“I’ll send you what you need to the station,” she ends up saying. “San Tu, San Huo and San Mu are ready if you need them, but I’ll prefer to not have to explain myself to the British ambassador again for almost causing another war.”
“It won’t get to that,” Lu Yao simply says, and Lu Miao has no choice but to let her little brother do as he wants. “All I need to know is that you’ll back me up if it comes to that.”
Ah Dou looks unconvinced when Lu Yao tells him what he’s about to do, but keeps quiet and drives the man to the station, where Lu Yao unceremoniously heads into Chusheng’s office and waits for the telegraph his sister promised to send over. It takes only half an hour, and when he does manage to read through the information, he asks Ah Dou to gather the men at the station and wait for his call, and gets Salim to drive him to the She Tou gang’s location instead.
Salim pauses for a second, as if realizing that this might not go well, and Lu Yao doesn’t pressure him. After all, the man has children and a wife waiting for him back at home, and if he refuses, Lu Yao is fine with going alone.
“… can you help me tell Inspector Qiao that I’d like a week off, paid leave, if we survive this?”
At that, Lu Yao snickers, despite the severity of the situation.
“A week off and a watch, how about that?”
“Yes sir!”
===
Youning is sniffling quietly next to him, her face all dirtied and hair a mess, dress ripped in several places. Her hands aren’t bound, unlike his, and she’s pressed close to him, her eyes darting occasionally to the hand with a missing finger on it. The blood has stopped flowing, but Youning still feels afraid, angry and upset all in one.
Thankfully, aside from the dirt and maybe some scratches here and there, Youning is safe and in one piece. All they did was take her ring yesterday.
Chusheng would do anything, even exchanging his life for hers. It is all his fault for being careless, and is it dumb of him to be relieved, that Lu Yao is not in Shanghai and wasn’t with them when they got nabbed?
He knows what they want, and he also knows that even if Bai lao-ye agrees to their terms, it’s not a full guarantee that Youning and he will walk out of here alive. After taking his finger, Chusheng can imagine the old man wavering — he is soft at heart despite all his years of experience, of bloodshed and war after war, especially when his daughter is involved.
All he needs to do is find an opportunity for Youning to escape, and he doesn’t care what happens to him.
The She Tou gang is made up of men younger than both he and Youning are, but what they lack in years of experience in the underworld they make up for in their sheer numbers and ruthlessness. Chusheng has heard of their leader, Xu Boying. At a tender age of 23, he managed to expand the gang’s power and increase their numbers precipitously, and if the British hadn’t run the gang out of Suzhou, it is likely they would have taken over that territory in another year or so.
No matter how good Chusheng is, faced with almost fifty assailants and with Youning at his side, his hands were tied when they were caught.
And if the situation was different, Chusheng would be plenty impressed by the young man’s capabilities, ambition and shrewdness. Within days of settling in Shanghai, Xu Boying managed to hit Bai Qili where it hurts and rather effectively.
He almost laughs. After just half a year of being Inspector, half a year after meeting Lu Yao, he’s entirely lost his touch. He’s gotten used to the regular life, of dealing with employees and work from 9am to 5pm most days when they don’t have cases, of having breakfasts and dinners with Lu Yao, of being a normal, regular son to his adoptive father of sorts, of meeting up with friends for a drink or a night out. No fights, no wars, no fear and just… being safe. Being just like any other person living well in Shanghai, with a stable job, with good friends surrounding him and a supportive family.
And someone he’d like to protect, and keep happy, for the rest of his life.
“We should just kill them,” one of the younger boys in the gang snaps. “What if the Green Dragon Gang brings their people here and just slaughters the rest of us?”
“That’s what the message was for. Be patient, Xiao Han. Especially since we have Bai Qili’s only daughter, that old fart won’t dare to just come in with all guns blazing. Look at us here. One wrong move and we’ll light up the explosives, and then Bai Qili is left with nothing. Trust me, he won’t dare to take the risk.”
“Ge…” Youning murmurs, looking at him.
“Don’t be afraid,” Chusheng repeats, forcing a small smile for her. “You have me, remember?”
The doors to the warehouse they’re being held in opens suddenly, and the both of them look up as a young boy sneaks in, making a beeline straight for Xu Boying.
“What is it?” the leader frowns.
“There’s someone outside. Two men,” the boy reports hesitantly. “He says he’s here for the two of them, and that he brings a message from Bai Qili. One of them is in uniform, from the station. The other… we’ve never seen before. Very tall, dressed in an expensive suit.”
At the sound of that, Chusheng and Youning exchange glances.
It can’t be…
Before Xu Boying can say anything else, the doors slam open loudly, and in saunters one Lu Yao, indeed dressed in an expensive suit as the boy said. Chusheng doesn’t recognize this navy blue set at all, and horror and panic claws at him.
Not Lu Yao, he thinks, not his San Tu.
“Great, looks like everyone is here,” Lu Yao says, uncaring of the guns raised at him at the moment, as if he’s just here for dinner.
“Who the fuck are you-“
“I’m here to take them back, of course,” Lu Yao barrels right over Xu Boying’s question, looking every bit the expensive, spoilt and rich motherfucker he is as he strolls in, almost looking bored.
His eyes rove over both Youning and Chusheng for a fraction of a second before he returns his attention to Xu Boying and his men.
Meeting Lu Yao’s gaze earlier, Chusheng almost cannot believe what he’s seeing. This is a Lu Yao he’s not familiar with, a San Tu he doesn’t usually see.
“You must be Xu Boying,” Lu Yao says, settling comfortably into the seat opposite his at the table. “The Xu family’s bastard son. I’ve heard a lot about you from my sister. Can you not point the guns at me? I’m a little scared of guns.”
There. Right there, that’s the Lu Yao Chusheng knows.
Nostrils flaring in anger at the sound of the word ‘bastard’, Xu Boying slams both hands into the table and stands up, gun in hand and pointed at Lu Yao.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?! You better look at the current situation clearly. I don’t care who Bai Qili sent as a negotiator, but if he doesn’t do what we want, we’re going to blow his daughter and that inspector up. They’re sitting right in the middle of the new shipment we got. If you want them alive, you better tell me who the fuck you are and what you’re doing here-“
“My name is Lu Yao,” Lu Yao answers, seemingly cooperative. “And you’re not going to do that. In fact, you are going to leave Shanghai first thing tomorrow morning.”
At that, guffaws and laughter echo in the warehouse, incredulous at the audacity this man has. After all, it’s more than thirty guns trained on him on the inside of the warehouse and many more at the back, who will come running once Xu Boying starts yelling for them.
“San Tu, what are you doing!” Youning calls from the side.
“Shhh, I’m having a serious discussion here,” Lu Yao hushes her with a glare.
“You don’t care much about your father or your stepmother,” Lu Yao turns to look at the man again. “But you care about your younger brother. It so happens that Xu Bolai enlisted in my brother’s private army up in Hai Ning, and honestly, it isn’t that difficult to have my Da-ge single him out and deal with him.”
“How do you know my brother’s name?!” Xu Boying snarls, his hand shaking a little.
“Do you think I’m lying? Also, where do you think you’ve been getting your stock of arms and explosives from? I’ve set my sister on it. That British middleman you’ve been speaking to won’t be able to provide you with any more goods,” Lu Yao continues. “That’s how you’ve been making your money for the gang in the past two years, correct? It’s simple enough for my sister, who’s Secretary at the Commissioner’s Office, to find the necessary people to arrest him.”
“Not to mention I’ve also called my Er-ge, who is Commander of his own army stationed in Nantong city, and can be here within the next few hours. Bai laoda might not be able to do anything to you guys, that is true.”
“But I can,” Lu Yao concludes, leaning forward slightly and holding Xu Boying’s gaze. “Just my sister alone can wipe out the She Tou Gang without having to lift even one of her fingers. Take on the Lu family and I can have you disappear at the end of the day. You, and your brothers included.”
“Don’t believe me?” Lu Yao smiles, putting both hands up as he shrugs. “Try it. If Qiao Chusheng, Bai Youning and I don’t walk out of here in the next hour, we all die together. You’re not going to get away. Dying here is the least of your concerns because if you’re caught by either Bai Qili, or anyone affiliated with the Lu family, you’ll wish you were dead.”
Silence ensues after Lu Yao’s monologue.
“… Ge,” one of the boys at the side says with a frown. “I think… this is Lu Yao, that consulting detective the station hired under Qiao Si. He is the Lu family’s youngest son. The Lu family… in Hai Ning.”
Whispers break out at that.
Lu Yao is satisfied momentarily to see that his family’s name is still able to get them somewhere. He’s not fond of invoking his dad or any of his sibling’s names, but desperate times, desperate measures.
“I’ll even wait for you to verify the information I just told you,” Lu Yao offers, gracious even in a crisis.
When all the men just stare at him, Lu Yao sighs.
“Look, I didn’t even bring anyone other than Salim with me. The Green Dragon Gang and the guys at the police station are nowhere near here. I could have brought them with me, you know. Either way, if my Da-ge, Er-ge and Da-jie don’t hear from me in the next hour, you and your friends are done for.”
“If you cooperate with me, at least you get a headstart on running,” Lu Yao finishes with a flourish.
That little bitch, Youning thinks, staring wide-eyed at this flamboyant, ridiculous and vain young master, flaunting his wealth and the power his family has without a single care in the world.
More than that, he’s telling the whole world that Chusheng and Youning are under his protection. Under the Lu family’s protection, that these two individuals who’ve lived and breathed the underworld all their lives, are people worth protecting.
Lu Yao is staking a claim, that’s what.
===
“Lao Qiao, does it hurt?” Lu Yao panics in the car later, Salim pressing his foot down on the accelerator so they get out of this ridiculous area as soon as possible. “Lao Qiao, you’re missing a finger, you’re missing… you’re missing a finger- Salim drive faster, let’s get to the hospital!”
Chusheng is quiet, but his eyes are only for Lu Yao as the tall and fair-skinned man fusses over him, acting both like a child and a nagging mother at the same time.
“It’s okay,” he finally says, lifting his uninjured hand to squeeze at Lu Yao’s. “It’s just a finger. And it’s on my left hand, it won’t stop me from firing a gun or protecting you when needed. Calm down, San Tu.”
“Yeah, where did your bravado from earlier go?” Youning turns around in the front seat to glare at him. “You scared me!”
Lu Yao glares at her, then looks down at her hands — her pristine, beautiful hands with all fingers still intact. “I had to save you guys, no? Also why do you have all your fingers and Lao Qiao is missing one?!”
“Ahhh, ge, listen to him! He wants me to lose a finger!”
“They sent two fingers to the manor,” says Lu Yao through gritted teeth, “And one with that ring on it.”
Before the two can get into a further argument, Chusheng tugs at Lu Yao’s sleeve.
“Are you really going to let them go?” he asks.
“They took a finger from you,” Lu Yao says, biting at his lips and looking away. “I told Ah Dou to round all of them up once they get to the port, because that’s definitely where they’re headed next.”
“Smart,” Chusheng grins, and damn it, he feels proud of Lu Yao right now.
“… I saved you, so shouldn’t you repay me for that?” Lu Yao asks next, “I’m so tired! I came to get you guys the moment I got off the train, and you have to compensate me for the emotional trauma I had going through that. I didn’t even get to eat dinner because you said you would bring me to dinner when I return, but look at you now-“
“Lu San Tu! Chusheng-ge has lost a finger and he’s probably got several broken bones and what not on his body, can you please be nicer to him-“
Chusheng chuckles, because god, he has missed this. In the last two weeks while Lu Yao was gone, this was what had been missing. Just Lu Yao in their lives, filling it up with noise, stupidity and laughter.
Watching Lu Yao earlier as he stared down a group of people he would usually be so afraid of, all for him and Youning, and Chusheng doesn’t know how much more he can love him.
“I’ll repay you,” Chusheng agrees. “I’m missing a finger but… I suppose in compensation, I’ll give myself to you, if you’ll have me.”
Everyone in the car goes silent at that. Both Salim and Youning suddenly pretend to be listening to anything but the conversation between both men in the backseat, Youning having the luxury to appreciate the stars in the night sky frmo where she’s seated.
“… what’s the use of having you,” Lu Yao mumbles, his cheeks heating as he looks away.
“You can have all of me, which means my house, my money… and me,” Chusheng smiles, leaning forward to catch Lu Yao’s eyes again. “Are you sure you don’t want any of it?”
Lu Yao doesn’t reply, and nothing else is said until they reach the doors of the hospital. There at the entrance stands Bai lao-ye, and despite her less-than-ideal relationship with her father, Youning is quick to exit the car and run into her father’s arms.
Right before Lu Yao leaves the vehicle, he mumbles something under his breath, his voice low enough for only Chusheng to hear.
“Chusheng!”
“Lao ye-zi,” Chusheng greets with a smile, and the man takes one good look at him before ushering him into the hospital lobby.
Lu Yao follows, only a step behind and not even losing a finger can put a damper on Chusheng’s mood right now after what he heard.
===
Of course I want all of it.
All your money, everything you own.
And you.
--
Notes:
*She Tou Gang (蛇头帮) - I don’t know if this gang was actually operating in the same years and where they came from, I literally just googled for existing gangs in China for reference XD
*As I explained on a previous post, it’s likely that Lu Yao’s brothers were named San Huo (fire) and San Mu (wood) as a naming tradition from Lu Miao (Lu San Shui - water) and Lu Yao (Lu San Tu - earth), since we Chinese are really fond of the four elements
*Bai lao-ye (老爷) or lao ye-zi (老爷子) - Used to refer to Bai QIli as the master of the Bai family or dad in the family in a sense
