#THEGRACIOUSTM : private & selective mutuals only ARLISE PEVENSIE of the chronicles of narnia series. original character that is crossover // au friendly. written by jess, 25+, she // her. est. 2009. PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG GIFSETS OR PHOTOS UNLESS YOU ARE A MEMBER OF NSF RPG.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS BLOG CAN BE TRIGGERING.
please note that this blog uses the beta editor!
AN EXPLORATION OF : from poverty to royalty, abuse & trauma, destiny, power, war & it’s effect on the world, female rage, fallen kingdoms, true love & companionship, grief, unhappy endings, mother of orphans, bearing the sins of our fathers, your enemies being in power, the trauma of lost love & lost children, hope, kill the girl then let the woman grow, and survivor’s guilt.
google doc • aesthetic • prompts • edits • chapters • narnian saga family
blog roll : @oathboundfire // @mistresstogrief // @softwindrise // @softlyaphelion // @firstdaughterofsea // @steelcrowned // @intitulari // @catalinaoftelmar //
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this is group-based roleplay blog for the original character arlise riordan from c.s. lewis' the chronicles of narnia. character timeline is pre, during, and post the golden age. this blog has selective influences from the films - as well as other pop culture media, including a song of ice and fire/game of thrones, the tudors, reign, - as well as historical influences. this blog can be triggering! for anyone familiar with the series, there are heavy religious references, death, war & war mentions - and there may also be mentions of rape, abuse, torture, etc.THERE WILL NEVER BE A THREAD ON THIS BLOG INVOLVING RAPE, OR DISCUSSING IT'S AFTEREFFECTS! all things will be tagged as such. i've read all the books and have seen all the films. please note that i do not send in passwords! discord available to mutuals. if the mun is under the age of 18, please do not follow this blog!
my name is jess. she/her pronouns, 30+. this blog is open to smut with muses and muns 18+. all smut/ship threads will be thread dependent and not affect my general story for arlise. i will not write smut with anyone under the age of 18, or with a character who is under 18.
i'm very selective with who i follow, and if i see you spewing hate of any kind (racism, transphobia, homophobia, bullying, etc.) you'll be blocked. i'm not here for toxic people of any kind, and if i get any kind of weird vibe from you or feel uncomfortable with you, you'll be unfollowed. if we are mutuals and you wish to unfollow me please soft block me to break my follow from you.
i don't personally follow / believe in banned fc's. if you use a cartoon / anime fc, i generally prefer to write with a human fc, but i'm not overly picky of this and when it comes right down to it i'll write with your regardless.
i'm exclusive, for numerous reasons. i am a member of a close-knit group and am exclusive to those characters. if you write a non-narnia canon character or any original character and are interested in becoming mains or exclusives, please let me know!
psd is made by stephysource, icon border is by supersources. background is made by myself with textures collected over the years and also ones sent to me by friends. theme is coding by friends and myself.
Tabitha smoothed down her skirts as she waited for the new princess to arrive at the apartments. It was an honor to be chosen to serve as personal attendant to royalty...even if that royalty wasn't actually a princess of the blood. It didn't matter to Tabitha though. Queen Arenella had told her this girl was a Naerion princess now, and Tabitha would treat her as such. This was a huge step up from her last job tending fires in the common areas, and the increased pay would help create a better life for Tahlia.
The door opened and Tabitha immediately dropped into a respectful curtsy. "Your Highness." She said automatically, before she even looked at her. It wasn't until she straightened up that she took the girl in, and she sucked in a sharp breath when she did.
She was a tiny little thing, underfed and timid, looking much younger than the 13 years Tabitha had been told she was. The hint of yellowy bruises could be seen around the edges of her face as her eyes darted around, looking for danger. This poor thing had been used and abused by the world, and Tabitha's heart broke for her. What horrors had she been put through at such a young age? Her struggle wasn't over either, as the Naerions intended to use the poor thing for their own political theater...but that didn't mean Tabitha couldn't spoil the girl in the meantime.
She stepped forward and crouched down, so the girl could look down at her instead of having to look up. It gave her a tiny bit of power back. "Hello." Tabitha said softly. "My name's Tabitha, and I'm going to be taking care of you now, Your Highness." She gave her a warm smile. "It's wonderful to meet you. How about we get you settled in your new home, hmmm?" She reached out a hand, giving her the option if she wanted to take it or not.
It seemed to Arlise that misfortune would never loosen its grasp upon her. For years she had endured her father’s cruelty in silence, only for it to grow harsher with each passing season until, at last, he had sold her for the pitiful sum of ten lions into the hands of slavers, who in turn sold her to Princess Seroreah Naerion of Telmar. Since then, true rest had become a stranger to her. Sleep came only in fleeting moments when exhaustion forced her eyes shut against her will, and even then it never lasted long. Hunger gnawed constantly at her belly, while fear coiled so tightly within her chest that she scarce knew how to breathe beneath its weight. She did not know how much longer she could endure it all — nor whether she truly wished to.
Silent as a wraith, she followed the escorts through the winding halls of Castle Destro, her weary gaze fixed upon the floor beneath her slippers. The towering stone walls and grand tapestries blurred together, for she had no heart left to admire them. All she desired was warmth, a bath, food enough to still the ache in her stomach, and perhaps a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Her fingers worried endlessly at the skin around her nails, picking until the tender flesh split and stung, though still she could not stop herself. She expected no kindness here. Why should there be any for a girl such as her? She was no true princess — merely the unwanted daughter of an ordinary Narnian household, a frightened thing dragged far beyond where she belonged.
When the chamber doors opened before her, Arlise stepped inside hesitantly, her eyes only briefly lifting from the floor to the woman awaiting her. Yet the sight that greeted her caused a flicker of confusion to pass across her drawn features. The woman lowered herself into a curtsy and addressed her as Your Highness. For one bewildered moment, Arlise glanced timidly over her shoulder, half expecting Queen Arenella or Princess Seroreah to have entered behind her unnoticed. But there was no one there.
The title sounded wrong upon the woman’s tongue, as though it belonged to somebody else entirely.
Not to her.
Never to her.
Then the woman crouched lower still, until Arlise no longer needed to crane her neck upward in submission, and something deep within her chest tightened painfully at the gesture. Such small kindnesses were foreign things to her now. Dangerous things. The warmth in the woman’s voice seemed almost unreal, as though Arlise might reach out and find it vanish like mist beneath sunlight.
At the mention of home, her throat tightened. She could not imagine this place ever feeling such a thing. Castles were not homes for girls like her. They were cages dressed in silk and gold. And yet… the woman before her seemed gentle. She had not seized her arm or barked cruel commands. She had smiled.
Slowly, uncertainly, Arlise lifted her trembling hand toward the one offered to her. Halfway there she faltered, instinct urging her to retreat, but after a moment she gathered what little courage remained within her and placed her small hand carefully into Tabitha’s. Her fingers were cold.
A faint smile touched her lips then, fragile and fleeting as winter sunlight, though sorrow lingered plainly behind it.
“ Okay… ” she whispered softly. After a brief hesitation, as though testing whether she was truly permitted to speak the name, she added in a timid voice, “ Thank you… Tabitha. ”
@amongwildflowers ⬤ an independent & mutually exclusive multi-muse roleplay blog featuring muses from various fandoms including ginny & georgia, the hunger games, my sweet audrina, the twilight saga, gilmore girls & roald dahl's matilda. ⬤ please read my rules before interacting.
The past few weeks had been absolutely miserable for Percy. All he could think about was that last conversation with Cait. How his voice had cracked as he pleaded with her to choose him; how she had pulled away, obviously unable to do so. Now she was gone on her trip around Narnia and he regretted saying anything at all. He should have known better, he should have known he would never be enough for her. He didn't seem to be enough for anyone anymore.
All of Arlise's attention was on her fiance; the ruggedly handsome, perfectly polished King Edmund. Edmund Pevensie, who lived the life Percy had almost lived. The dark, curly haired second son and third child of prophecy. Prisoner of the White witch. But where Percy remained a prisoner, a useless child; Edmund had gained his freedom and gone on to defeat the witch and win a crown. Where Percy was a broken tortured soul with self-destructive tendencies, Edmund was a logical and level-headed leader unburdened by his past. In short, he was everything Percy would never be.
And now Edmund had Arlise, and they were falling sickeningly in love as Percy's love life spiraled down the drain. He had closed his heart years ago to Arlise in that way, but he still felt that burning sense of jealousy when he looked at them. And it didn't help that Arlise had also been reunited with her twin. Jaquetta seemed nice enough and Percy wanted to be happy for them; he was happy for them but he also couldn't help but feel like he was unneeded now. What use did she have for a surrogate twin when she had her real one.
Percy's two ties to stability these past five years, Cait and Arlise, had come undone, and Percy felt completely unmoored; adrift in an ocean of uncertainty and pain. His brothers still hadn't sought him out, and Mama only spoke to him in passing. And Pip, well it felt like every conversation with her turned into a fight, so he supposed some things never changed. But that familiarity did nothing to ease his mind; to ease that feeling that no one really needed him anymore.
Percy sat in an empty hallway, listening to a summer thunderstorm rage outside. The tempest matched his mood. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the razor he'd requested from one of the maids. There was no one to watch him now, no one who knew he wasn't to be trusted with such things unsupervised. Absent-mindedly, he began to flick it open and shut as his mind wandered.
He had thought he'd been getting better these past three years, but maybe he'd just been distracted. That nagging feeling had returned, the whispers about controlling his pain; about that sweet crimson relief. He propped his arm on his knee and stared at it. He could perfectly envision it, red blossoming against pale skin, the sting of the razor followed by a rush of something like ecstasy.
He hadn't realized he had lifted the razor until he felt the cold metal against his skin. It was like he snapped out of a trance, and he practically threw the razor away from himself. It clattered against the stones at the same time a gasp rang out. Percy's head shot up. "Leezy," he gasped, locking eyes with her. "I didn't-" he started to hold his arm up, but he had begun to shake so bad that he let it drop back down. His eyes pricked with tears he didn't want to fall. "I didn't actually..." He said, hearing his voice catch before it trailed off.
Arlise had known, somewhere deep down, that she had let Percy drift. Not intentionally—never intentionally—but her life had begun moving at a dizzying pace, and she had barely been able to keep her footing.
Edmund had surprised her. What had begun as duty had unfolded into something warm and steady, something she found herself leaning toward without meaning to. She liked him. More than liked him. She sought him out in quiet moments, lingered in conversation, memorized the calm certainty in his voice. Being with him felt safe. It felt like the beginning of something bright.
And then Jacquetta and Meadow had been found and brought to Cair Paravel—for her.
The reunion had been overwhelming: tears, laughter, disbelieving touches as if they feared one another might vanish. For so long she had prepared herself for punishment, for suspicion, for exile when the truth of the Naerions came to light. Even if her hand had been forced, she had still played a part. But instead of condemnation, she had been granted grace.
For the first time in years, her life felt as though it was turning toward the sun.
It was only once the whirlwind settled—once joy became routine instead of revelation—that she noticed the absence.
Percy.
She had not meant to neglect him. He was not an old chapter to be closed, not a placeholder now replaced by blood. He had been her constant. Her shelter. Her twin in all the ways that mattered. Jacquetta’s return did not erase that; it only widened her heart.
So she went looking for him.
She expected awkwardness, perhaps distance. She did not expect to find him alone in a dim corridor, thunder shaking the castle walls—and a razor in his hand. For one suspended, unbearable second, she could not breathe. The clatter of metal against stone snapped the world back into motion. His name left her lips in a broken whisper. “ Percy— ”
Her heart pounded so violently it hurt. She had truly believed those days were behind him. That the darkness had loosened its grip. That they had both survived the worst of it. “ I thought… ” Her voice faltered, tears blurring her vision. “ I thought we were past this. ” Not accusation. Not anger. Just fear—raw and unguarded.
“ I didn’t know I still had to be afraid of losing you, ” she said softly. “ I thought we were going to build something new here. You and I. Side by side. Like we always have. ” She took a tentative step toward him, as though approaching something fragile and precious. “ You are not replaceable to me, Percy. Not by a crown. Not by a twin. Not by anyone. ” Her voice steadied, though her hands trembled. “ I am still yours. And you are still mine. In the ways that matter. ”
Status: closed except for @thegracioustm and @themodernhart
Location: Hart Residence
Date: September 5, 2011
Pippa dutifully led Arlise up the stairs towards Percy's bedroom. "He said he's not feeling well, so he may not want to see you." She shrugged, glancing back towards Arlise as they reached the top of the stairs. Aunt Jo had been very firm that no one was to bother Percy, but those rules never seemed to apply to Arlise. Maybe because she wasn't family. Maybe because they all knew something was going on with Percy, and Arlise was probably the only person who might actually get through to him.
Pippa lightly tapped on Percy's door before opening it. "Percy? Arlise is-shit!" Percy was crumpled on the floor on in a heap, and he let out a groan. She dashed over to him, dropping to her knees and rolling his onto his back. "Percy, what-" His arm dropped and she saw the pill bottle roll out of his hand. Aunt Jo's sleeping pills. "What the fuck did you do, Percy?" She hissed, realizing what was happening.
"Arlise, grab me the trash can." She said, glancing up as she hauled Percy into a sitting position, his back leaning against her chest. He wasn't going to like what she was about to do...but then again, she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about shoving her fingers down his throat until he vomited either.
Arlise hadn’t come to the Hart house to argue. She hadn’t even come to demand answers. She just wanted to talk to Percy — really talk — for the first time in weeks. She knew Alysa had been in his ear again. It was always Alysa, quietly pulling him away, building walls where there hadn’t been any before.
But none of that mattered now.
She followed Pippa up the stairs, her stomach tight, a strange dread settling in her chest she couldn’t name. She’d grown fond of Pippa over the years — unsure sometimes where she stood, but grateful for the fragile truce between them.
And then the door opened.
For a second, Arlise didn’t understand what she was seeing. Percy on the floor. Pippa swearing. The sound of a body being rolled over. Then the pill bottle slipped from his hand and hit the carpet with a hollow plastic rattle.
Her blood ran cold.
The room tilted. No. No, no, no.
She forced herself to move when Pippa barked at her. The trash can. Right. She grabbed it from beside the desk and dropped to her knees beside them, her hands shaking so badly she had to steady it against her thigh.
“ What do you need me to do? ” Arlise asked, her voice thinner than she meant it to be. She didn’t want to be in the way or slow Pippa down.
Status: Closed except for @thegracioustm
Location: Outside the High School
Date: June 2, 2010
Percy stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the school. Will had let him take the past couple of days off, but this morning, Percy had insisted he was ready to go back. Now that he was here though, he was starting to doubt that. The thought of seeing his classmates and pretending like nothing happened had him frozen to the spot. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to see her.
He felt his heart rate spike at the thought. She was in there, sitting in her homeroom or standing by her locker...or worse, she was standing by his locker. His breath came quickly now too, and his hands began to shake. He didn't want to see her. He'd told Will he didn't want to see her. But would she listen to Will? She hadn't listened to him.
Flashes of Saturday night came back to him. Her hand unbuttoning his pants, being pushed down onto the bed, her on top of him, telling him that all boys wanted that while he begged her to stop. Bile rose up in his throat, and he barely made it to a trash can before he puked up his breakfast. He felt dirty. He felt used.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a soft hand at him elbow. He whirled around, heart pounding, only to see, "Leezy." he gasped. He hadn't spoken to her since last week. He didn't want to tell her what had happened, he didn't think he could, really. How could he look at her and admit that she and her sister had been right about Alysa?
And yet, he wanted his best friend. He wanted her comfort. Leezy could always make him feel better. So, he sucked in a breath and asked her to do something he wasn't sure she'd say yes to, but desperately hoped she would. "Do you want to skip school with me today?"
It had been a week since they’d spoken, and the distance between them had felt wider than that — heavy, deliberate. Arlise had told herself she wasn’t imagining it. Percy had been avoiding her. She just didn’t know why. If it was because she’d spoken against Alysa… she wouldn’t take it back. She wasn’t sorry for wanting to protect him — not from someone older, not from someone who made her instincts bristle.
She was still debating whether to go to him when she saw him bolt toward a trash can. Her heart dropped. Percy didn’t get sick. Not like that. All hesitation vanished. She hurried across the sidewalk, slowing only when she reached him. He looked pale — shaken. Smaller, somehow.
Gently, cautiously, she touched his elbow. He flinched like she’d burned him. “ Sorry — Percy, I’m sorry, ” she breathed, immediately pulling her hand back as if she’d done something wrong. She hadn’t meant to startle him. She hadn’t meant to look like anyone else. Her eyes dropped to the pavement, unsure what to do with herself. There were a thousand questions pressing against her ribs, but none she felt brave enough to ask.
Then he spoke.
Do you want to skip school with me today?
For a second, she just stared at him. Skip school? She’d never done that. Not once. Not when grief had hollowed her out so badly after her mother died that getting out of bed felt impossible. Not when she’d wanted to disappear entirely. Rules were rules. She endured them.
But Percy didn’t ask for things he didn’t need. And the way he was looking at her — not cocky, not mischievous, not teasing — but uncertain… almost afraid — That decided it. “ I— ” She swallowed. “ Of course. ” The words steadied as they left her mouth. She nodded once, firmly this time, choosing him without hesitation. “ Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. ”
Location: student union building, university campus
Date: February 2015
Percy slowly pushed Fisher's stroller in circles around the SUB. He had only come to drop off Pippa's homework that she'd forgotten at home, but Fisher had actually fallen asleep in the stroller, and Percy really needed him to nap.
The poor thing had just finally gotten over whatever bug the girls had brought home from school, but now he was teething again. He just couldn't catch a break. So, if Percy had to walk in circles for an hour or two so he would sleep, that's what Percy was going to do. Besides, he liked the people watching.
He had just turned to walk back the other way when he spotted a familiar face walking into the building. His instinct wasn't to hide this time...it was to smile. "Leezy!" He called out, walking over to her. "How are you?" He had pulled her into a hug before his brain could even tell him that was probably a bad idea. Ever since he'd seen her at the bar, he'd longed to see her again. He missed his friend.
He pulled back, looking down at her face. She was as beautiful as ever, though there was a sadness in her eyes. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but did he have a right to anymore? "You haven't met Fish, have you?" He asked, changing the subject. "He's sleeping right now, but here he is." Percy rocked the stroller back and forth. He couldn't help but smile as he looked down at his sleeping baby. Unruly curls plastered to his head from sweat, chubby cheeks with a little bit of drool on them, curled up in his breakfast print pajamas. Percy loved showing Fisher off, and he couldn't believe he'd never introduced him to Arlise.
Arlise had been wandering more than walking, her thoughts looping in restless circles as she stepped into the SUB. Classes were done for the day, and she’d come seeking distraction—anything to quiet the slow, inevitable countdown ticking in the back of her mind. Winter.
Their ending would be gentle. Mutually agreed upon. Sensible.
And it would still hurt.
Neither of them was willing to uproot carefully laid plans. Neither brave—or foolish—enough to attempt long distance. Soon enough, Arlise would be released back into the strange, glittering chaos of the college dating pool. The thought left her tired.
She almost missed it—the sound of her name cutting cleanly through the noise.
That voice.
Her heart recognized it before her mind did. She looked up instantly, eyes finding him without effort, as though some invisible thread had tugged her gaze exactly where it needed to go.
Percy.
She stopped mid-step, and for the first time in weeks, a smile bloomed that truly reached her eyes.
“ Percy! ”
There was no time to brace herself before he pulled her into a hug. She hadn’t expected it—hadn’t expected him to be so open, so warm—but she melted into it without hesitation. For a moment, everything else fell away. The noise. The uncertainty. The ache.
God, she had missed him.
“ I didn’t expect to see you here, ” she said softly, lingering a heartbeat longer before pulling back. She searched his face, relieved by the lightness there. “ You look well. ”
Her attention shifted as he rocked the stroller, and her expression softened into something almost reverent. She stepped closer, peering down at the sleeping baby.
“ Oh… wow. ”
The words escaped her like a breath. The unruly curls, the flushed chubby cheeks, the faint sheen of drool—he was perfect.
“ Perc— ” She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “ He looks just like you. ” Her eyes lingered on the curls, the shape of his nose. “ I can’t believe it took me this long to meet him. ”
She glanced back up at Percy, something tender and unspoken flickering in her expression. “ He’s absolutely adorable. ”
The sound of the brunette’s voice landed warm and sweet in Winter’s chest, settling there in a way she hadn’t expected. Instinct urged her to slow down—to do this right. Winter could read it all over the girl’s posture, the careful way she spoke, the way her eyes held something heavier than nerves. This wasn’t someone to rush. This was someone to know.
Her last relationship had burned bright and fast, headlong and reckless. She hadn’t questioned it then. But standing here now, Winter felt something different stirring—something steadier. She wanted to learn the stories hidden behind those eyes. Wanted to know what made her laugh unexpectedly, what kind of sadness she carried, what movie she’d rewatch when she needed comfort. She wanted to know everything.
And she was willing—more than willing—to start as friends.
She had no desire to mess this up. The girl had already unearthed a feeling Winter didn’t quite have words for yet, something hopeful and terrifying all at once. Her gut whispered this matters, and Winter almost laughed at herself for it. She didn’t even know the girl’s name. Still, she couldn’t deny the pull.
She realized she’d been staring a heartbeat too long, but tearing her gaze away felt impossible. The girl was simply… beautiful.
“Well, see, that’s the thing about art,” Winter said at last, her voice light but sincere as she leaned in just a little, lowering it like a shared secret. “It’s subjective.”
A soft smile curved her lips. “And I’m willing to bet you’re being way too hard on yourself.”
She extended a flyer toward the brunette, hope threading through the gesture. “We’re really not the judgmental type. Mostly we just like creating things, making a mess, and hyping each other up.” Her smile tilted, playful. “Very low-pressure. Very supportive.”
Winter remembered her own first day—the chaos, the overwhelm, the feeling that every wrong choice might somehow ruin everything. Her expression softened.
“And,” she added gently, “it’s a pretty great way to make new friends.”
Her gaze flickered—brief, almost unconscious—from the girl’s deep brown eyes to her mouth and back again, before she caught herself.
“I’m Winter,” she said, offering another smile, warmer now. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
Arlise felt heat bloom across her cheeks as Winter continued to look at her like that. For a fleeting, panicked second she wondered if she had something in her teeth. Or on her face. Surely that was more likely than the possibility that Winter actually found her pretty.
She listened carefully as Winter spoke, the confidence in her voice both intimidating and comforting all at once. When the flyer was offered, Arlise reached for it a touch awkwardly, her fingers brushing the glossy paper as though it might disappear if she hesitated too long.
“ Well— ” she began, lowering her gaze to the flyer, though she wasn’t really reading it. The words blurred together beneath her nervous focus. “ Are you sure it’s low-pressure? ” There was a hopeful caution in her tone, like she wanted very badly to believe it. “ I mean… would there be any learning involved? Because I know… ” She gave a small, almost sheepish smile. “ Nothing. ”
Her blush deepened at the admission.
But the more she thought about it, the less ridiculous the idea seemed. A club would mean structure. Familiar faces. A reason not to retreat into her dorm room after classes. Her therapist had suggested finding a creative outlet, something to pour her guilt and trauma into — something grounding. And she had loved being part of theatre in high school — that counted as art, didn’t it? Maybe this wasn’t such a reckless choice after all.
For a moment, she thought she’d caught Winter’s eyes dipping toward her lips — but that had to be her imagination. Surely she’d just looked down at the flyer and back up again. Arlise told herself not to read into things.
“ I’m Arlise, ” she said finally, steadying herself and lifting her eyes properly to meet Winter’s. There was still shyness there, but also sincerity. “ It’s really nice to meet you, too… Winter. ”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fingers tightening slightly around the flyer.
“ And I guess, ” she added, softer now but with a hint of growing bravery, “ there’s no harm in at least checking it out. ”
Arlise wasn't acting like herself. She hadn't been all week. Something had happened last weekend. Looking at her now, across the lunch table, he was beginning to suspect what it might have been, and his heart broke for her.
The clenched hands trying to hide the shaking; the listless stares; the aversion and almost revulsion to touch; it was like looking in a mirror. It was exactly like how he was after the dark nights with Alysa...the dark nights that seemed to be happening more frequently. He wanted to commiserate with her, tell her that he understood. But how could he, when he'd never confided in her about what happened at Alysa's house? He'd never confided in anyone.
"Leezy, are you-" He couldn't finish the question. She very obviously wasn't okay. He wanted to hold her hand, hug her tight. That was the last thing she would want. His hand had started to reach towards hers, but he snatched it back. No. He wouldn't upset her more. "Leezy, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything." He stared at her, trying to convey understanding with his eyes. "I might..." He cleared his throat. "I might understand more than you think."
Her eyes were heavy, shadowed by sleepless nights that clung to her like bruises. For a week now, sleep had become an enemy. Every time she drifted too close to it, the too-close past reached up and dragged her back under — vivid, merciless, suffocating. Her waking hours were no kinder. She moved through them as though underwater, everything distant and distorted.
It was beginning to show. In the tremor she couldn’t quite control. In the way her shoulders never seemed to lower.
Somewhere in the quieter corners of her mind, Arlise knew she should seek help. A counselor. Someone safe. But fear wrapped tight around that thought — fear of questions, of records, of someone deciding she and her sisters would be “better off” apart. She hadn’t yet realized she could ask for help without giving every name, every detail. To her, speaking meant unraveling everything.
She flinched the moment Percy spoke.
The sound of her name on his lips startled her more than it should have. Every movement near her body sent her nerves into a violent alert. She hated it. Hated that her body reacted before her mind could reason. Percy had never hurt her. He had only ever been gentle. And yet when his hand had begun to reach toward hers, her own had recoiled before she could stop it.
The recoil hurt more than the memory.
She saw the way he pulled back. The restraint. The care.
When she finally forced herself to look at him, her vision felt dimmed at the edges, as if the world had narrowed to something small and dark. There was no way he could understand. He was Percy. Steady. Kind. Whole.
Wasn’t he?
The name drifted through her thoughts like a shadow.
Alysa.
Something in the way he’d said I might understand lodged under her ribs.
Her throat burned when she tried to speak. “ How can I talk to you about it, ” she asked quietly, her voice raw from too many days and nights spent silent, “ when I can’t even bring myself to speak to Jacquetta about it again? ”
Her fingers tightened in her lap, nails biting into her palms as if the pain might anchor her.
“ I start to, ” she admitted, barely above a whisper. “ And then it feels like if I say it out loud, it becomes real all over again. ”
She swallowed, eyes flickering toward him and then away just as quickly.
“ I don’t know how to survive hearing my own voice tell it. ”
He pulled her into a hug, resting his head on her shoulder. He got the strongest sense of de ja vu as he closed his eyes. Their bodies may have grown bigger, as had their love for each other, yet they were still in the same place they'd been two years ago; clinging onto each other like shipwreck survivors clung to driftwood.
"I'm sorry." He whispered into her shoulder. She was trying to make light of it, but he really had almost scared her into an early grave. He remembered how he'd felt that day at the lake, scared out of his mind that she was dead. He hated that he had given that feeling to Leezy, even if it was an accident.
"Maybe..." He said softly, voicing an idea he'd been too scared to share before. "Maybe we could be each other's stand in twin...a...a surrogate of sorts...for the ones we lost?"
Arlise melted into the embrace without hesitation, her arms wrapping tightly around him as if she meant to anchor him there permanently. She rested her cheek against his hair and closed her eyes.
“ I know, ” she whispered softly. And she did. She knew his apologies weren’t empty. She knew the guilt would gnaw at him the way it gnawed at her. But right now, he was warm and breathing in her arms, and that was enough.
For a moment she let herself imagine a future where the ache dulled — where the ghosts of lakes and letters and lost twins and unspeakable acts against them didn’t press in quite so sharply. Maybe one day the past wouldn’t feel like it was standing in the room with them.
When he spoke again, tentative and fragile, her heart squeezed.
She pulled back just enough to look at him, studying his face carefully as though the idea itself were something delicate.
“ A stand-in twin… ” she echoed quietly.
A faint, almost shy smile curved her lips. “ It’s funny you say that. ” She hesitated, suddenly aware of how much she was about to admit. “ Because I think… I think I may have already been doing that. In my heart. ”
Her fingers toyed absently with the fabric of his sleeve.
“ I don’t remember deciding it, ” she continued softly. “ It just… happened. Somewhere between the nightmares and the letters and all the days we’ve had to survive. ” Her eyes lifted to his again. “ You’ve felt like mine for a long time. ”
A small breath of laughter escaped her. “ And honestly? I dare say we resemble each other more than we ever did our actual twins. Same haunted eyes. Same dark hair. Same terrible timing. ” Her thumb brushed gently under his eye where tears had dried. “ Same stubborn refusal to let go. ”
Her expression gentled.
“ If you want to be my surrogate twin, Percy… I would be honored. ”
He felt her cling to him, felt her tears soak into his shirt. It felt...nice. Comforting to have someone to share in his pain...in his healing. "I lost my twin." He said abruptly. "Not literally, of course. She's still alive but...they took us away from each other..." His voice cracked as he pulled back from Arlise.
"All my life, I've been able to feel her, in here..." He rubbed at a spot over his heart. "It's hard to explain, but it's like...it's like we share a soul. We always know what the other is thinking, how the other is hurting, but now..." He stared into Arlise's brown eyes until they blurred from fresh tears.
"It's like the connection has been stretched so thing, I can...I can barely tell she's there at all." Not having Pippa there felt like there was something missing inside him. A hole he couldn't patch over or fill. It hurt in a way he couldn't quite describe.
“ You lost your twin? ” Arlise breathed, gently loosening her hold so she could look at him properly.
The way he described it — feeling her in his heart, as if they shared something invisible and sacred — made her chest tighten. It was beautiful. Painful, but beautiful. She had always imagined it might be that way between her and Jacquetta. That there would be some thread, some pull beneath her ribs that told her when her sister was afraid or cold or alone.
But there had never been anything like that.
“ I lost mine too, ” she said softly. “ Jacquetta. And our little sister. ” Her voice wavered, but she pushed through it. “ I don’t know where they are. I don’t know if they made it somewhere safe… or if they’re still running. I can’t feel her the way you feel your sister. ” A faint, sorrowful smile flickered across her lips. “ I’ve tried. I’ve tried to listen for her. But there’s only silence. ”
Fresh tears welled in her eyes.
“ All I can do is hope, ” she whispered. “ Hope she’s warm. Hope she’s fed. Hope someone kinder than my father found them. ” Her fingers twisted lightly in the fabric of her skirt. “ I’m grateful she didn’t endure what I did… but sometimes that makes it worse. Because I don’t know what she is enduring. ”
She lifted her gaze back to Percy’s, gentler now, full of understanding.
“ I’m so sorry you feel that distance, ” she murmured. “ To have something so strong and feel it thinning… that must hurt in a way that’s hard to name. ”
She squeezed his hand softly. “ Maybe it isn’t gone. Maybe it’s just stretched — like you said. Threads don’t snap easily when they’ve been woven that long. ”
Em nodded her head as Arlise spoke. She appreciated that she was being honest with her. "I wish he could just marry you." She said softly. It really would solve so many problems. Leezy would never hurt Percy. She loved Percy. "But I know you have to marry King Edmund..." She sighed.
"I wish..." She was having a mean thought, the kind she would normally keep to herself. But it sounded like maybe Leezy didn't like Cait as much as she acted. "I wish Cait would just go away." She huffed, twisting at the fabric of her dress. "I know it would hurt Percy, but surely it would have to hurt less than what she's doing to him now."
She looked up at Arlise again. "I wish she'd just leave him alone, but nooo. Now, she's gonna have a baby and she'll never go away." She blurted out. Em froze as soon as she realized what she had done. "I...I wasn't supposed to say anything about that." She looked at Arlise, her green eyes wide with shock and concern...Percy was going to be so mad at her.
Arlise reached for her at once, folding one of Emiliana’s small hands carefully between her own as though it were something fragile. Her expression softened, touched by the sweetness—and sadness—behind the wish.
“ I understand why you would think that, ” she said gently. “ And I would be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind once. ” A faint, almost wistful smile curved her lips. “ With Percy, things feel… known. Safe. I know his heart. I know how he loves. And for a time, I was frightened of the unknown—of what my life might look like with King Edmund. I didn’t know if it would be safe. Or kind. Or steady. ”
Her smile warmed, reassuring. “ But fear isn’t always a sign that something is wrong. Sometimes it’s just the feeling of stepping into a future we can’t see yet. ”
She gave Em’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“ And you deserve honesty, ” she continued softly. “ There have been moments when I’ve wished Cait would simply… stop. Stop hurting him. Stop pulling him back in just to let him fall again.” Her voice held no cruelty—only weary truth. “But wishing her away doesn’t fix Percy’s heart. He has to choose what he will accept. And all we can do is love him well while he figures that out. ”
Her eyes grew tender. “ I hope one day he finds someone who loves him steadily. Someone who sees how precious he is and treats him with care. Someone kind enough not to make him doubt himself. ”
Then Em’s next words struck.
Arlise stilled.
For a moment she thought she had misunderstood—but Em’s face told her she had not.
“ A… baby? ” she repeated, the word barely more than a breath. Her fingers tightened instinctively around Em’s hand before she consciously relaxed them. “ Em… do you mean— ”
Her voice lowered, careful and stunned all at once.
“ Cait is… with child? ”
A thousand thoughts raced through her mind at once—Percy’s fragile state, the permanence of it, the weight of responsibility, the way this would bind them together whether they were ready or not.
“ Percy didn’t tell me… ” she murmured, more to herself than to Em, hurt flickering briefly beneath the shock. Not anger—never anger—but concern. Deep, immediate concern.
She looked back at Emiliana, steadying herself. “ Does anyone else know? ”
"I think we all are." Em said, pulling back. "But Aunt Jo said you saved him...if you hadn't found him..." Her voice trailed off. Today was a happy day. Em was supposed to be happy. She bit her lip for a moment, pulling herself together. Pippa called her a crybaby. She didn't want to be a crybaby. She wanted to be a big girl, a responsible girl, like Mama had asked her to be.
She plastered her smile back onto her lips. "But yes, I can show you the letters!" She heard Percy playfully sigh behind her and turned to look at him again. He looked...tired. Pale. Not quite sick, but almost. It frightened her a little.
Arlise looked down, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. It wasn’t a day she liked to remember, and hearing what Percy’s aunt had said to little Em made her feel oddly uncomfortable. She truly didn’t feel any credit was due to her. If she hadn’t found Percy that day, surely someone else would have. After all, it was only moments after her makeshift tourniquet that some of his family had arrived. She didn’t want to dwell on whether her actions had made a difference—knowing might break her.
So she welcomed Em’s shift in focus, letting her shoulders relax. “ I would very much like to see those letters, Em—if you don’t mind, ” she said with a conspiratorial smile. She silently hoped that Em’s presence might help Percy, that she hadn’t come too soon in his recovery, nor too late for his fragile heart.
Pippa nodded her head. She had to be strong, she had to pull herself together. But she still didn't know anything, and guilt began to eat at her. "I should have done something...I should have..." She inhaled sharply, tears blurring her eyes.
"I knew he went back to her...We fought about it. But that stubborn ass—" She caught herself for a moment, breathing in again and blinking back the tears. "He told me he was eighteen and there was nothing we could do to stop him...but I should have...I should have said something. Done something. I'm the older one, I'm supposed to take care of him."
She glanced at Arlise, barely holding herself together either. "I failed him, Arlise. I failed him and now he might—" She couldn't bring herself to say it. Saying it might make it true. He might die today, and it would be her fault. "There was just so much blood." The sob ripped from her without her control.
She bit her lip until she tasted blood. She couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not when Percy would need her the most. She looked up expectantly as Seb walked back into the room, crouching down in front of them. "He's alive." Seb said. Pippa let out a choked sob. "But we need to have a talk, us three." He glanced at Arlise before turning his attention back to Pippa. "Because Percy was hurt before he hurt himself. Someone broke two of his ribs, bruised three more, gave him a nasty laceration to the head, and judging by the handprint shaped bruise, had their hands around his throat." Pippa felt like she was going to be sick. Alysa could be violent, but was she capable of all that? "What do you two know?"
“ But what could you have done? ” she asked — not dismissive, not defensive. Desperate. “ I—I didn’t even know they were back together. ”
The confession tasted bitter. She tried to remember the last real conversation she’d had with Percy — not a passing text, not a half-hearted check-in, but something honest. Something real.
It had been too long.
The realization hollowed her out. If he died tonight, the last months between them would be distance and silence. She might never get the chance to fix it.
“ And Percy… ” Her voice trembled. “ He’s always been stubborn. You know he is. If we’d pushed harder, would he have listened? Or would he have just lied to us and gone back anyway? ”
She dragged her hands up into her hair, fingers knotting tight at the roots as anxiety coursed through her. The waiting room felt too small. Too quiet. Like the air itself was pressing in on her lungs.
“ I don’t understand the hold she has on him, ” she whispered. “ I never have. ”
Alysa’s name didn’t need to be spoken again. Arlise could see her clearly enough — her image now forever tainted, mixed with Percy's blood.
Seb’s return pulled her upright.
He’s alive.
The words struck her first like disbelief, then like oxygen flooding back into her lungs. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped breathing until that moment.
But the relief didn’t last.
As Seb continued, each injury landed like a physical blow. Broken ribs. Bruised ribs. A head wound. A handprint around his throat.
Arlise felt the blood drain from her face.
“ That… that happened before? ” she asked, her voice small and unsteady. “ He was hurt like that before and we didn’t know? ”
The thought made her sick. How long had this been happening? How many times had Percy smiled through it?
Her gaze flicked to Pippa, horror dawning slowly in her eyes.
“ If someone put their hands around his throat… ” she swallowed hard, forcing the words out, “ that’s not just a fight. ”
Her fingers trembled in her lap. She couldn't bring herself to finished her thought. It hit too close to home.
He pulled back as she began to throw up the water she'd swallowed. He sat back on his heels, not noticing the chill on his skin, or the water dripping from his curls that were plastered to his face. She was alive. She—
She had actually tried to kill herself. Even after the scolding she had given him those weeks ago. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It—He felt anger surge through him. Not so much at Arlise, but at the world for pushing her to this point...maybe a little bit at Arlise too.
"Don't try to talk yet." He said softly, rubbing her back. He glanced up as Maeve and Tabitha came running up. "Tabitha, go get help. Maeve, get my jacket." They scattered as Percy turned his attention back to Arlise.
He leaned over her, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I thought we had a deal. I thought we were in this together." His voice cracked slightly with emotion. "If you try this again, I won't pull you out. I'll just drown with you. Is that what you want on your conscience, Leezy?" He had thought that nickname for her before, but had never actually called her it. He hadn't been sure how she would take it. Now, he didn't care. She'd tried to leave him.
"I mean it." He continued. "We live together or we die together. It's your choice." He sucked in a sharp breath, resting his forehead on her arm.
Arlise’s body convulsed again as the last of the icy lake water spat from her lungs, each ragged breath burning through her chest. Her fingers dug into the wet sand as though anchoring herself to the world she had tried to leave. She was breathing. Alive. Pulled back from the end she had wanted so desperately to reach.
Percy’s hand on her back was a lifeline, steady and warm, though she barely had the strength to acknowledge it. She didn’t feel anger at him—not now. If their positions had been reversed, she would have done exactly the same thing. He hadn’t failed her; he had saved her.
It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the light, to lift them without squinting. The sky was gray and heavy, yet after the darkness beneath the water it felt blinding. Every sound was overwhelming—the wind in the trees, the rush of water along the shore, Percy’s voice.
Her chest heaved, still burning from coughing and gasping for air. “ Percy— ” she managed, her voice hoarse and fragile, broken by another spasm of coughs. “ I… I saw him. ” Her words trembled, caught in the raw edges of fear and memory.
The memory of that morning surged through her—the terror of seeing her father again, his face twisted with greed and rage, the weight of all the uncertainty pressing down on her. She had run, she had fled, and when the lake embraced her it had been the only place that felt like it might offer even a moment of control.
Her body shook as another coughing fit racked her, lungs aching and burning, but she forced out the words between desperate gulps of air. “ I… didn’t know if… they would protect me. I didn’t know what… would happen if he took me. ”
Her hands trembled in the sand, her eyes glistening with the raw aftermath of fear and near-death. “ I… I wasn’t leaving you, ” she whispered, voice fragile. “ I just… I was trying to get away from him. ”
Percy hadn't expected her to say yes. In fact, it was probably the very last thing he had expected her to say. He looked at her, wide-eyed with surprise. "Are you—I mean..." He felt as speechless as her. His heart began to pound in his chest.
He leaned down and grabbed her hands again, pulling her to her feet. They were so close now he could feel her body heat. "Leezy, you have to tell me if you're joking..." He said softly, staring down at her face. Percy hadn't noticed that he was taller than her now. When had that happened?
Absentmindedly, he began twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. Were they actually going to do this? Of course, he had thought of it once or twice. He'd had more than one dream that left him rather uncomfortable in the morning. But this was Leezy, she was his friend...she was engaged to someone else.
But she was also safe. She was comfort. She was...home. Of course, she'd be the perfect person to have as his first kiss forever—even if he had to close his heart that way after.
Her nerves fluttered wildly, but not because of Percy. The fear wasn’t about him—it was about herself, about the possibility of stumbling, of doing something wrong, of looking foolish. But how could she truly be? This would be both of their first kisses. Neither of them had any secret knowledge, no practiced grace. They would be learning together.
What frightened her more was the thought of Edmund—handsome, charming Edmund—having lived a life already touched by romance. She imagined him pressing kisses to the lips of other women long before she ever reached him. Perhaps more than kisses. The thought sent a warm rush to her cheeks, and she swallowed it away.
“ I—of course I’m not joking, ” she said softly, her fingers tightening around Percy’s hands. “ That would be terribly cruel to joke about. I would never do that to you. ” She shook her head, her curls shifting gently around her shoulders as she looked up at him. It felt different now—looking up at Percy. He’d grown without her even noticing. Taller, steadier. It suited him far too well.
When his fingers absently caught a strand of her hair, Arlise stilled for a moment. The touch was gentle, familiar in a way that tugged at old comforts—her mother’s soothing hands, her sisters’ playful braids. The warmth of it made her chest ache with something soft and fond, and she leaned ever so slightly into the feeling before she even realized she had.
“ We’ve both had so much taken from us, ” she murmured, her voice quieter now, earnest and trembling with sincerity. “ Too many choices made for us. Too many moments stolen without asking. ” Her gaze lifted to his again, full of fragile courage. “ I think… I think we deserve one thing that belongs entirely to us. One kiss because we choose it. Not out of duty. Not out of fear. Just because we want it. Because we trust each other. ”
