Re-reading chapter one of Ursa Major and honestly, Callisto's biggest issue at first is the fact that she didn't know lesbianism was an option until Artemis.
her attachment to her chastity and her strong dislike of men
All this because she didn't know lesbianism is an option.
A/N: I thought this chapter might actually be the death of me, guys, no lie. But, by some miracle, I am still here and so are these characters. One more chapter, ya’ll. ONE. MORE. (phewwwwww)
Pairings: Drake x Claire, Jackson x Bianca, Bastien x Annabelle
Warning: gun violence, character death, angst out the wazoo
no music for this one. silence. deafening silence.
The room was dark and empty and for a moment he couldn't quite place where he was standing. There didn’t appear to be any walls, just an endless expanse of deep black oblivion all around him. He took a step forward and the hard soles of his shoes slapped against the marble floor loudly. He looked down and recognized the intricate golden inlay- a seven pointed star, one point for each of the seven duchies, with a Cordonian Ruby at the center. He was in the palace ballroom. He looked up and sure enough the enormous crystal chandelier glittered down at him. He was starting to wonder where everyone was, was starting to realize that something was not right, when he turned and saw her. She was standing alone in the middle of the floor in her white gown, the silver embellishments twinkling like stars in the heavenly light that shone around her. He felt happiness spread through him as he made his way towards her, forgetting his worry that something was wrong, reaching out to take her hand in his. "Berkley," he whispered as he brushed his lips to her knuckles. "May I have this dance?" she nodded, not really meeting his eyes, and he couldn't understand why she looked so sad. He circled his arm around her and drew her in. She laid her cheek against his chest and brought her free hand up to his shoulder, running her fingertips over the fabric of his jacket. Drake’s eyes fell to his right hand, fingers twined with hers, his thick and knobby, hers thin and delicate. He started to sweep her across the floor, simply content to have her in his arms. Who knew I’d like dancing so much? Just needed the right partner, he thought, closing his eyes and breathing her in, feeling her lean her slight weight into his body.
For a few beats they swayed together, his hand pressed to the small of her back as she continued to run her fingers over his shoulder and chest. Drake opened his eyes and looked down at her. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he realized her cheeks were wet with tears. “Hey, Berkley, don’t cry. What’s wrong?” He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly, the fabric of her dress smooth against his palm.
“I love you, Drake,” she mumbled softly. “I love you. I love you, you have to come back to me.”
Come back to her? What does that mean? He shook his head slightly, his forehead wrinkling with confusion. “I’m right here, Berkley. I love you, I’m right here, not going anywhere. Wherever you are, remember?” He looked down at the heart shaped charm hanging from her neck.
She seemed not to hear him, despite her closeness as she pressed even closer to his chest. Her eyes were following her fingers, now tracing two circles where his chest meets his shoulder. “I love you,” she just mumbled again. “You have to fight, Drake. You're so strong...you have to fight.”
He was about to ask her what she meant again when something in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he whipped his head around to see what it was. They weren't alone, after all. Laughter, sounding far away as though traveling through a tunnel, underwater, through time. The swish of a skirt as two more dancers came into view, smiles on their faces, on their lips and in their eyes, floating across the floor. Is that...how can... He looked down at Claire. She hadn't seemed to notice the other couple gliding across the floor. His eyes found their way back to them and he realized he knew exactly who and what he was looking at. My parents...my...dad...
As suddenly as he found himself standing in the ballroom, he was transported out of his body, watching the two couples- himself and Claire, and his mother and father- twirling on the floor from the doorway. He realized that he was watching a memory, his own memory. He was maybe seven, and he and Liam had sneaked back downstairs to pilfer more desserts after having been sent to bed an hour ago. They were on their way to the kitchens when they passed the open door of the ballroom, music, and the musicality of laughter and clinking glasses and revelry spilling out. He was caught, like a spell, like a trance, as his eyes landed on his mother and father dancing among the royals and the nobles. His mother's mouth was open wide in surprise as his father turned her under his arm sending the light blue skirt of her gown swirling around her ankles. The look on his father's face was pure joy, dark eyes lit with love and happiness as his wife leaned in to kiss him upon returning to the hold. Before he could react to what he was seeing, he was back, his arms around Claire, her tears against his shirt, her mumbled “I love you,” in his ears.
He wanted to tell her it was alright, wanted to wipe her tears away, wanted her to look up, to see his parents, to meet them. As he opened his mouth to speak, a third couple danced into view, and he squinted in their direction as they came closer. Bastien? But he looks...young... But there was no mistaking the silver eyes of the man he'd always known to be a part of his life. He was much younger here, his face not yet set into the stern mask he wore now. In his arms was a lithe young woman, brightness in her eyes, her copper hair cascading in soft curls down her back. She looks so familiar...I know her...she's...she was... but he couldn't remember her name. The girl laid her head against Bastien's chest and he rested his head atop hers lovingly. Drake could taste the young woman's name on the tip of his tongue, knew that somehow she had been part of his life, too. But it flew away, just out of reach, like a bluebird taking wing.
“You have to wake up, Drake.” His attention was brought back to the woman in his own arms. Her eyes were focused up at him, red rimmed but alert. She took the hand that had been on his chest and brought it to his face. He leaned into the feel of her touch, his skin tingling where it was met with hers. “I love you, and you love me, and you can't leave me now... we still...you're still...Drake, you have to come back to me, please.”
“Berkley,” he breathed, feeling a tear slip down his own cheek at the pain and pleading in her voice. What does she mean? Why doesn't she understand? I'm here, I'm right here and I'd never...
His thoughts were interrupted again by a loud bang, shattering the splendor, and a scream, piercing the picture. He felt Claire shudder and held her tighter to his chest. That was a gunshot. His heart pounded and his pupils dilated and he realized that while they’d been dancing it had been getting dimmer and dimmer around them. Another scream, another bang, and then he saw; his father on the ground, his mother sobbing as she slowly faded away from the ballroom; Bastien clutching his arm, stumbling, the copper haired girl, eyes flooded with tears as she slipped out the back door.
Dad... Bas...
The chandelier crashed down behind him, sending shards of glass all over the floor. Drake moved to shield Claire with his body only to realize she was no longer in his arms. No, where is she? “Claire,” he choked out her name as the air cleared she came into view, just a few feet in front of him. He opened his arms, ready to scoop her back into them, to protect her, get her out of here. As his foot left the ground to take a step towards her, he saw her lips drop open in a scream, one word, “No!” followed by his name, as her eyes went wide and focused on his chest. He hadn’t heard the third shot, or the fourth, hadn’t felt them pierce his shoulder blade, tear through artery and bone, through the front of his shoulder and pectoral muscles. He hadn’t felt any of it, just a need to be near her. He looked down to his jacket. Where a boutonniere might adorn his pocket, two bright red stains were blooming instead.
When he brought his eyes back up to Claire, he was looking at her from the ground. She was calling out to him frantically, but something, someone was dragging her away.
“This can’t keep happening, Drake.” A voice filled his ears as the last bit of light left the ballroom. Who... Bastien? And as Claire vanished from view the voice, Bastien’s voice spoke once more. “Bianca, Annabelle, Claire...” Annabelle, that’s right. “Don’t let this place tear you from her, break your love apart. Drake, you have to wake up.”
He felt his eyes slip closed, felt the world shrink. “This can’t keep happening” bouncing around the inside of his skull, “I love you, Drake, come back to me,” etching itself in his heart.
How? How do I get back to her? I need to, but how?
“Please Drake, you have to wake up.”
. . . . .
An inhale through his nose. Sterile, clean. But also, daises, lemongrass, her.
A deep ache in his chest. Burning, spreading. But also, a change to the rhythm of his heart, a skip as it found it’s mate, hers.
His eyes opened slowly. Blinding, dry. But there she was. Another inhale, less pain, as his eyes found her hand wrapped around his. Another thump of his heart, pumping warmth and life and love through him. His heavy eyelids fell closed again but he pried them open again to drink her in. She was really there, he’d made it back to her. Her cheek was resting against the bed where he lay, her eyes closed, soft golden hair feathered out against the white sheets. White sheets, white walls, hospital. He was distantly aware of beeps and hums, of a bulky bandage wrapped tightly around his upper torso and left shoulder, and a much smaller one wrapped around his right hand. He was aware of that dull, deep digging feeling in his back and chest and bicep. But he blinked again and felt her breath on his fingers and he tried to squeeze her hand but couldn’t. He needed to look in her eyes though, needed to hear her voice, needed her to hear his. He attempted to clear his throat. it felt like he’d swallowed broken bits of glass but he didn’t care. “Berkley,” he managed, using all the strength he had to make his voice as loud as he could.
She stirred, a small hum from the back of her throat, a sniff as she moved her head. “Berkley,” said again, this time more clearly, this time less painfully. Her eyes snapped open and she let out a gasp as they met his. My girl, there she is. “Good morning, Berkley”. He didn’t know if it was morning. Didn’t matter.
“Dr-Drake?” Her voice wavered as she gasped again, her fingers tightening on his, the blue pools of her eyes deepening like the sea. “Drake! Oh, god, Drake! Drake, you... you’re awake, oh my god,” she scrambled to stand, to get closer to him. Her hands both went to his face and he closed his eyes as he felt her forehead rest against his own. “You came back to me,” she whispered, “I knew you’d come back to me.”
There was pain, some confusion, as flashes of what he could remember and what he’d just dreamed traded places and danced through his head. But relief was flooding his veins along with the medication, just to feel her close to him, to know that they were still together. Wherever she is, so am i.
“I’ll always come back to you, Berkley,” he whispered, his throat still sore but the words he needed to say mattered more to him than the discomfort. “Always.” She was kissing him gently on his eyelids, his temple, the crest of his cheek. “I love you, Gra Go Deo, I love you forever.” Forever. He wouldn’t let anything break that, wouldn’t let anything tear her away from him or him from her.
Jackson and Bianca. Bastien and Annabelle. The dangers of the Cordonian court had torn them apart. But it wouldn't happen again. Not to Drake and Claire. He felt a smile form as he took another breath, as her lips and her hands and her words fell all over him. There was still a lot he didn’t know, still a long road to healing ahead of him, but he was here, alive, in the arms of his soul mate meaning that she was there, alive, and that was all that mattered. He could endure anything with her by his side. That’s what love was, what he had learned it to be.
. . . .
Bastien’s phone had vibrated in his pocket just minutes before Drake had woken up, and he’d stepped out of the room to take the call. Closing the door softly behind him, he answered the call he’d been waiting for since he promised it to Liam almost 48 hours prior. But he’d managed to do better than a secure line. “Hello? Leo? Have you landed?” A pause and then, “A car will be there any minute to pick you up. See you soon.” He hung up the phone and walked past the other room on the private wing, Liam’s. The King was resting, Lady Olivia by his side. He let out a breath, glad that Liam would have his brother soon, would have his family to help him through everything that had happened.
Just then, A nurse ran towards Drake’s room, then another, and Bastien felt the air grow still. Don’t let this happen again, he silently pleaded as a doctor entered Drake’s room and he hovered closer to the room. No whining beep of a flatline, no wailing or screaming from Claire. He held his breath until his feet took him to the door and he peered inside to see Drake and Claire, their eyes locked on one another while the doctor took vitals and made notes.
Olivia poked her head out into the hallway, catching Bastien’s eye. “Is he...?” Her eyes were sharp and her tone was even but her quick, almost gasping breaths were giving her away.
“He’s awake,” Bastien told her, and they both felt peace settle into their hearts. Bastien cleared his throat and headed for the waiting area, settling back into one of the chairs he’d sat in with Claire and Olivia.
The Duchess was only a few paces behind him, carrying Claire’s phone. He watched her dial a number before she covered the speaker and said “Claire’s family,” pointing to the phone. Bastien nodded. “Hi, Dan, it’s Olivia... I just wanted you to know... he’s awake.” A pause. “Yes,” she wiped at her eyes and nodded at what Dan was saying. “Yes I think you should. I think... I think she’d like that.” They spoke for a minute or two more before he heard her say “Bye Dan... see you soon.”
Yung Miami Reveals Lesson She Learned From Nicki Minaj Now Seemingly Dead Beef
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