#raydin

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"Fluff”

Timeline: Before the Drigulian War of Independence 

Location: DA Mansion - Parking Lot

Characters: Rue Demmekke, Caydin Blythe

Song Used: None

Summary: Rue packs the Jeep for a little getaway with Caydin

Rue Demmekke cursed under his breath as he slammed his head on the roof of his jeep. Frowning and rubbing the sore spot, he pulled back to look at his handywork.

The Wrangler had never seemed so inviting. The doors had been pulled off as Rue liked them to be, the soft top laid down so that all elements of the Jeep were exposed.

And he allowed himself a soft grin.

As the song played on the powerful stereo system switched, Rue’s grin turned into a full-blown devilish smile. He knew what songs his husband would flock to, even if they weren’t the silverette’s favorites he’d played them as loud as the Jeep would allow.

Reaching down beside the front wheel, Rue hauled up the last duffel bag and stored it just behind the passenger seat. There, that seemed about right. He’d stopped by a gas station this morning to fuel up, snagging a still-cool iced tea for Caydin and a decaf cold coffee for himself. Both were in their respective cup holders, ready to go.

When he heard approaching footsteps over the chorus of the song, Rue turned with that wide, boyish smile still planted on his face. For the first time in a while he was wearing civilian clothes rather than his uniform; faded, worn blue jeans and a white sweatshirt that read “I’m in love with the Weekend”, rolled up to his elbows.

Cocking his head to the side, Rue waved Caydin closer. “Hurry up or I’ll leave without you!”

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Who’s Watching the Kids?

Her shirt seemed to almost hang off of her frame, as if she’d lost a significant amount of weight in a short amount of time. The bags under her blue eyes were nothing more than dark blotches she hadn’t yet found the time to cover up with concealer. Brown hair no longer fell in healthy brown waves, and was instead wrung up in a too-tight bun.

But Karsyn stood there, tugging her black jacket tighter at the neck despite the heavy humidity that bore down on them. Astor and Amelie flanked Nicolette and the boys, her hands tight on Evryn and Talyn’s wrists.

The twin girls were dressed almost like polar opposites; Amelie in a flowing flowery sundress and Astor sporting Doc Martins and a Ramones baggy band t-shirt.

But the Blythe-Demmekke children all wore the official colors of their parents; Nicolette had on a form-fitting black and grey uniform, her long black hair let loose under the stiff hat and a sash of blue strung from her shoulder to the waist in the royal fashion. Evryn and Talyn looked like little soldiers- but they weren’t so little anymore. Both boys had already passed their sister in height, despite her protests, and proudly wore the soldier’s uniforms in almost an almost obsessive manner. They’d watched Rue dress up for war meetings enough times to properly put on the uniforms, tying the sash across their middle instead of in the royal fashion like their sister.

Nicolette struggled to keep her anxiety under control; her nails digging deeper into her brother’s sleeves at each shout or loud noise.

It was a few minutes before they found their group huddled around Caydin, and only then- surrounded by their own kind- did Nicolette release her brothers to run to their father.

Evryn and Talyn slammed into both sides of Caydin, both talking at once to congratulate their father. Nicolette gave Rue a tight lipped smile when she came close enough to rest at his side.

“Couldn’t keep them home,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear. Her eyes rarely left the black-haired twins, talking ecstatically to praise Caydin.

The Dark Leader shifted to tug Nicolette into a one-armed hug, resting his cheek on the top of her hat. “You wore our colors,” he mumbled, the shock in his voice barely contained.

She snaked an arm around her father’s waist, giving him a light squeeze. “Of course we did. You told me that we always wear our uniforms when one of our own gets a metal.”

Rue was silent, but his smile and pride were barely contained.

Karsyn didn’t bother waiting for the boys to part from Caydin. Instead, she added another bouquet of flowers to the blond’s arms- blue roses to match his eyes. “Congratulations, my Little Ocean,” she said on a soft sigh, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Her eyes were tired but alive with pride as she shared a soft smile with him. “Your hard work paid off.”

“Yeah!” Astor spoke up. “None of these pussies have degrees! You’re the first!” Amelie slapped her sister’s arm, earning a sharp swear from the brunette.

“Show Daddy what you got him,” Nicolette softly urged the boys from where she stood in Rue’s safe arms.

Talyn reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of dog tags Rue had helped them get personalized; the two normal tags were adjourned with a third that read ‘I’m the one with a degree- so listen up you fucks!’ on the front, and the back held his graduating year. One of Karsyn’s crystals  jingled between the tags, adding a purple stone to the silver metal. 

Nicolette and Rue stood back and grinned as Evryn placed them around Caydin’s neck to settle on top of his black robes and ropes.

Jace’s voice was still echoing in the hall long after he declared that they were all around to have the celebration of a ‘fucking lifetime!’ at the manor- drinks on Rue.

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Rue straightened out the paper in his hand, turning it over again and again without really reading what was printed on it. His grey eyes scanned just long enough to find Caydin’s name, a grin of pure pride breaking his face nearly in half.

Caydin Blythe-Demmekke - Masters Degree Psychology and Communications

The line of people before him dissipated, allowing Rue to find his seat in the bleachers amongst the crowd of Dark Angels that had turned up without formal invitation.

The sight of them was almost enough to make the Dark Leader laugh aloud; a mass of dark haired men and women took up four rows on their own, dressed in their formal uniforms of black and grey, their caps sitting officially in their laps, the sash of blue around their torso looking so out of place in a crowd of informal civilians.

If Rue had known so many of his soldiers would show up, he would have told them to dress down. But every one of them had put on their official uniforms to sit quietly and watch.

The silverette, wearing his own uniform of black, grey, and blue, shuffled his way down the aisle to sit between Jacyn Rogue-Demmekke and Princess Dav Iyra Dra’guhl.

The princess wore a dress of sparkling grey and black, a sash of blue falling elegantly across one shoulder to tie at her waist. Her hair was down and curled at the ends, her blue eyes focused on the stage.

“We were starting to worry you got lost,” Jace mumbled as Rue stuffed his hat under one arm, adjusting the paper and bouquet of roses to fit across his lap.

“Parking was a bitch,” Rue grumbled back, turning in his seat to stare down the soldiers behind him. Each man or woman hid their gene separation in secrecy- keeping their lips tightly closed across their elongated canines, their wings secured under the elegant back tattoos each one housed. “I had to park the Jeep three blocks away and walk in the rain-”

A gentle hand nudged his knee, bringing his attention back to the stage. The lights had dimmed, the line of graduates straightening. “It’s starting!” Dav Iyra hissed, the excitement in her voice tugging a grin from the Dark Leader.

Caydin hadn’t invited any of them, hadn’t mentioned a word of the ceremony between war meetings and basic training. Rue had assumed he hadn’t wanted to bother the council, and if he hadn’t left the flyer jutting half out of his bag, Rue would have wrung his pretty little neck.

But here they were. And there he was.

Forty-second in line.

“Caydin Blythe-Demmekke, Masters Degree in Psychology and Communications.” The announcer was nearly drowned out by the mass of soldiers rising to their feet, screaming to the top of their lungs. The men, the women- they all yelled for him. Rue cupped both hands around his mouth and let out a bellow of “That’s my husband!” Jace’s own cry was cut short by his choking laugh, but the silverette didn’t mind. None of them, not a single soldier, took their seats until the blonde, dressed in his black robe and matching black hat, had moved his tassel to the side and walked down the line to take his own chair.

After the ceremony, in which Rue must have rearranged the flowers, hat, and leaflet a thousand times, the small army of soldiers rushed from their seats to wait in the large hall in which the graduates spilled out one by one.

And when the Dark Leader’s grey eyes found the face he’d lived beside for years, had waged wars beside, had loved and laughed with- he couldn’t suppress the insane smile of pride that spread across his face.  

When Caydin came close enough, Rue grabbed him in a tight hug, pressing the blond into his body firmly enough to nearly mesh their essences together. “Nico and the boys wanted to wait until you got home- you know how they are with crowds.”

Kissing his husband’s cheek, he pressed the flowers into his arms and took a step back to allow Dav Iyra to take his place.

Blue eyes were misted as she smiled. “Rai daxo miv tovico su me monr takou, myvyon tkuars aklou.” You make me proud to be your sister, my strong brother.  “You are the perfect king.” Grabbing him fiercely, she wrapped him in a tight hug and kissed his cheeks before wiping under both eyes.

Jace called out to the soldiers, and each one stood in formation as their general led them in crossing one arm over his chest, then bowing his head in the ultimate sign of respect. Rue held Caydin’s gaze as he joined them, bowing his head like the rest.

The pride in his grey gaze when his head came back up was immeasurable.

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“Soldiers”

Timeline: The Old Court - Before the Drigulian War of Independence

Location: Drigulian Royal Castle - The Front Steps

Characters: Rue Demmekke, Jasyn Rogue Demmekke, Caydin Blythe, Nicolette Blythe-Demmekke, Evryn Blythe-Demmekke, Talyn Blythe-Demmekke, Rhyver Blythe-Demmekke

Song Used: None

Summary: Returning from a long mission, Rue searches for his family in uniform.

Four hundred and twenty-six days ago, they’d left with laughter in their wake and smiles on their faces. They’d traded out the traditional black and greys for the royal blue uniform of the White Angel’s military, with great white sashes around the waist. The mass looked defiantly out of place, with their heads held tall and unyielding against the kingdom they’d fought so long to overthrow. This wasn’t a mission a single man or woman took lightly, but it was with a brightness to their eyes that they turned, together, toward a better tomorrow by fighting this last assignment.

Today, what had been a mass was now dwindled down to a handful. They’d left as a family and come back fragmented. The royal blues that they’d once pulled on with rugged smiles and defiance felt more like cloth prisons they couldn’t wait to be rid of.

The Leader ran a hand through his hair, testing the uneven, jagged cut his silver locks had taken in the field. Sasha was great with a machine gun but lacked in the weapons field of scissors. He wondered idly if his family would recognize him- if they’d notice the new lines in his face or the cracks in his mind.

For the first time in months, he could feel the sensation of Death stirring. So far away from any other Harbinger, Death had slumbered quietly while his host’s body ran wet with blood. Sometimes his own, sometimes not.

It felt like just another dream to walk through those doors again, stepping into familiar tiles with his brothers beside him. They’d showered at base, preparing themselves for the adjustments of coming back home. “Find your families. Take as much time as you need,” The Leader said with as much command as he could manage. He knew their minds as well as his own- all he could think about was his family, his children. His men weren’t any different.

He expected a rushed salute, ranking be damned. These men had been away from their families for over a year- to expect anything less would be laughable.

Instead, one by one, they walked up to him. Jericho was the first; balling his right fist, he pressed it to his shoulder and bowed low- a sign of respect and complete devotion. “Thank you for returning me to my wife and son, M’klox.” My Leader.

Stunned, he could only stand in silence with a rigid back as soldier after soldier repeated the gesture until only one remained. Jacyn Rogue Demmekke, decorated general and step-in second hand to the Dark Leader. Black curly hair had been cut short, the same as his, in a butchered attempt to keep it out of their eyes.

Jace walked up until he was only a few inches away, and waited until the last footsteps faded from earshot before grabbing the Leader in a tight hug. “Thank you,” he breathed, though it was hard, “for bringing us back.”

When he stepped back, both of their grey eyes were misty. Both men looked away and took a few minutes to breathe before Jace spoke again. This time, there was an airiness to his voice that had been gone for months. “Go find Cayd and the kids. They miss you.”

-

With his white cap under his arm, Rue stood under the shadow of a large pillar as he watched his family from a few yards away. Nicolette and Caydin were standing close, arms outstretched toward the sun. Evryn and Talyn were running around wrestling while Caydin tossed Rhyver into the air. Rue could tell how terrified his husband was by the hesitation in the throw- he was afraid for their son.

Something inside Rue was wrong- for a moment, he felt absolute rage towards the blond. He should be there, Caydin should have waited for him to return to teach their sons how to properly accept the air under their wings. After all, he was more experienced with his wings- Caydin had only had his for a few years!

A flash of light on Caydin’s left hand as he reached for Rhyver stopped his breath. His wedding ring was reflecting the sun like a beacon, drawing Rue in.

And without thought or reason, without an emotion in his chest other than yearning and love, Rue was walking towards them. The closer he got, the taller he recognized his sons to be. They must have been trying to fly on their own- that had to be the reason Caydin was trying to give them proper lessons.

Rhyver was the first to spot him. Struggling to keep his right wing and left wing coordinated, his head tipped up as he registered movement across the lawn. The blue uniform didn’t seem to discern him- he recognized Rue immediately.

“Daddy!” He yelled.

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“Italian?”

Timeline: The Old Court - During the Dark Angel Rebellion

Location: Italy

Characters: Rue Demmekke, Caydin Blythe, DelRose

Song Used: None

Summary: Rue struggles beneath the weight of his responsibilities, meeting with a business partner of his father’s.

“You will discard your weapons here, please.”

Just the slightest bunching of Rue’s shoulders gave away the angel’s irritation- he’d expected this roadblock but it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. The Harbinger inside him growled low in protest as the silverette calmly slipped out of his black dinner jacket, slinging his shoulder holsters onto the table almost soundlessly. Beside him, Caydin did the same and together, they added up to almost twenty seven weapons on the expensive dark wood surface.

After a moment of silence, the muscle that stood between them and the man inside cleared his throat. “All of your weapons, monseur Demmekke.”

Without protest, Rue added seven more concealed weapons to the pile. His grey eyes never left the other’s.

Another few minutes of silence, neither man moving. Another polite cough.

Rue tossed his steel rings into a bin, adding his belt, tie, and necklace until he was left standing disheveled; the white button up was open, revealing his undershirt untucked from the expensive black slacks he’d borrowed from Nathaniel. His shoes were being poked and prodded by more of DelRose’s men, while he undid the cufflinks and tossed them in as well.

After what seemed like a weighty decision to nod them through, Rue took the lead after slipping back into his shoes. He was still buttoning his undershirt while Caydin held the suit jacket and his tie for him. “I had no idea you were carrying all that!” the blond said quietly despite the emptiness of the room they’d been herded to wait in.

Rue focused hard to keep his hands from shaking as he struggled with a button at his chest. “I’m surprised they didn’t get all of them,” he gruffed back. Deitys be damned, he couldn’t manage. With his cheeks tinting just slightly, he shyly asked his husband to help him out.

Caydin shifted the tux jacket and tie to the crook of his arm before making quick work of Rue’s shirt. There was concern in his blue eyes, but knew better than to voice his worries here. He was just helping Rue smooth out the shoulders of his jacket when DelRose walked in to greet them.

DelRose was a short man, barely coming up to Rue’s chin, with thinning brown hair that was as greasy as his voice. But a fat smile sat happily on his thin face, making dull green eyes light up. “Little Ruth! You brought your brother this time?” DelRose wore a grey suit with mustard stains on the chest two sizes too small for him.

Rue stepped closer to Caydin, but didn’t correct the brunette. “I apologize for making this meeting so late in the game-”

“-Very rude, yes. Your father met with me quite often, actually. Blyze was very interested in my affairs.”

Rue cut Caydin a sideways look as if to say I bet he did. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary. I’m sure you have clients waiting. You’re aware of Night’s status, then?”

The fat smile that had sat so happily on DelRose’s face fell immediately. “Dio è morto, si. Possa egli riposare in pace.”

“Italian?” Caydin peaked from Rue’s side, making the silverette wish he’d spent more time on the subject in class instead of eyefucking his husband’s backside. “Lo conosceva personalmente?”

DelRose’s eyes cut at Caydin quickly, sizing him up, before that fat grin was back in place once more with an arrogant twist. He didn’t mistake Rue’s discomfort as he replied. “Si.” Switching back to English, he continued. “Usignolo was very interested in my business associates, making him very interested in me.”

“Who?”

“Usignolo is Italian for Nightingale,” Caydin supplied, motioning for DelRose to continue.

“Very, very good! You speak it almost natively.” Caydin blushed at the praise, making Rue’s Harbinger laugh at his jealousy. With a theatrical sigh of remorse, DelRose turned back to Rue. “Why do you ask?”

“Because,” he said, almost calmly, “you work for a woman I’m very interested in. Blyze was as well, but for different reasons.”

[jetfuel-cantmeltsteelbeams]

Rue has a crystal jar that sits in his office that holds sand at the bottom, sea shells, and ocean water from the beach where he proposed to Caydin.