Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia
Rating:PG-13
Summary:The show comes to and end, and Riley contemplates her future
Author’s Note: I can’t believe I’ve finally brought this series to an end. There was quite a long time I thought I may never finish. I want to thank all the readers and friends who’ve read and encouraged me along the way. I want to especially thank @debramcg1106 as of late for helping me work through the ending and pushing me to finish it out. This is the technical end of the story, but I do have an epilogue planned as well.
Due to everything that transpired, filming of the finale was delayed two weeks. Riley was grateful for the time and hardly left Drake’s side during his recovery. He was sent back to the palace after a couple days, and Riley had to convince him that whiskey was not a suitable replacement for the antibiotics and pain medication the doctor prescribed. Reluctantly he obliged. He worked with physical therapy, and by the end of those two weeks, you’d have hardly known he’d been injured at all.
Olivia was salty her ball had been ruined, but the production staff made up for it, giving her and Liam an overnight filmed at Olivia’s northern Lythikos retreat. She was still worried the country would favor Riley with Liam, but Kat assured Olivia between her heroic actions, personal growth, and some favorable editing, it would be hard for most people not to be on her side.
As for Madeleine, it was still unclear if she would be charged criminally or would be incompetent to stand trial due to her mental health, but either way, she wouldn’t be a danger to anyone for quite some time. It was questionable if Jo’s involvement in the whole thing broke any laws. She wasn’t Cordonian, so she couldn’t be charged with treason for skirting security and endangering the life of the crown prince, but authorities were looking to see if there was anything they could make stick. At the very least she was blacklisted and would never work in television again.
So finally, on a calm, clear, day, there was only one obstacle left. Riley met with Liam, adorned in a stunning, body-hugging, Swarovski crystal filled dress, to put on the performance of a lifetime and act as if he’d shattered her heart. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. There were a couple of takes where neither of them could keep a straight face followed few that were unbelievably dramatic, but ultimately Riley was able to tap into her vulnerability and the tragedy she had faced to bring genuine emotion and tears to light. It didn’t matter that it was unrelated to what was happening in the scene, it was real. Kat said it was perfect, and Liam was free to propose to Olivia.
—–
Now that all is said and done, who will Liam choose to be his future Queen? Will it be the fierce Duchess Olivia, or the plucky newcomer Riley? Stay tuned for the finale of Queen of My Heart.”
Maxwell draped his arm around Riley’s shoulder. “What do you think, sis? How did I do on my television debut.”
Maxwell, Bertrand, Savannah, Hannah, Lydia, Liam, Olivia, Riley, and Drake were all huddled in the palace screening room to watch the finale as it aired.
Just about anyone would have been an improvement over Chad,” Riley teased, ”but the squid suit was definitely a nice touch. Your delivery was great, but did you have to call me plucky?”
“You know I had to play it cool,” Maxwell explained. “Plucky is good, but not over the top. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m playing favorites because you’re my sister.”
Riley rolled her eyes. “The suggested ‘noble newcomer’ would have been sufficient.”
“It was a stylistic choice.” Maxwell made a gesture with his hand indicating a mock hair flip.
“Ugh, enough about Maxwell,” Olivia groaned. “I’m ready to get to the good part. Can we just fast-forward through any mushy Liam and Riley stuff? Nobody needs to see that.”
“I second that.” Drake raised his hand in rare agreement with Olivia.
Liam just shook his head. “I know nobody watches live network television anymore, so you must have forgotten how this works. There’s no fast-forwarding. Not even through commercials.”
“That’s fine with me.” Lydia chimed in. “More time for making out.”
“Lydia!” Hannah’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink.
Lydia pecked her on the lips. “Sorry babe. You’re just too damn cute when you blush.”
Hannah remained quiet but her smile gave her away. Lydia, with her outgoing, bold, and slightly unpredictable personality, was the perfect complement to Hannah being so shy, proper, and focused. They brought out the best in each other, and the difference in Hannah between when Riley met her until now was night and day.
The friends watched the show and Riley only cringed at herself in a few places, which was much less than she thought she would. Things did get a bit awkward during the montage of kissing scenes between Riley and Liam, and Maxwell and Bertrand made a show of covering their eyes for the steamier parts. They all laughed inappropriately when Liam dumped Riley since they knew it wasn’t real. And then finally when Liam proposed to Olivia, everyone cheered.
Riley thought of her friends and family at home. She pictured aunt Susan, Sarah, and Daniel all rooting for her and how disappointed they must have been that she “lost.” She couldn’t wait to tell them, however, she hadn’t lost at all.
“Wow, Livvy.” Drake quipped, bringing Riley out of her deep thoughts. “How much did you have to pay them to give you such a flattering edit?”
Olivia threw a pillow at his head which he deftly dodged. “Fuck off, Walker. You were so desperate to get on the show, you leapt in front of a bullet.”
“Now, now children.” Liam said in a mock scolding tone. “Let’s all play nice.”
“Yes, father,” Drake and Olivia replied in unison, causing laughter to erupt around the room.
Riley still didn’t have all the answers about what her future would hold, but she had found her people. Where she was in that moment was where she needed to be.
Savannah yawned. “It’s getting late. We should probably go and relieve the sitter.” Riley hasn’t wanted to pry into Savannah and Bertrand’s relationship, but they were working together to parent Bartie and things seemed to be falling into place for them.
“Yes, yes.” Bertrand agreed. “Time is money!”
“Oh my god, Bertrand.” Savannah rolled her eyes. “Life isn’t all about money.”
“She’s right.” Maxwell propped his arm on Savannah’s shoulder. “Besides, now that the show is over, we’ll be getting some money, and Kat said if viewers responded well to me, they would probably offer to extend my contract in the franchise. By the looks of these tweets, I’m going to be rolling in dough. ‘That Maxwell guy is so hot…ridiculously funny…just what the show needed.’ Should I read more?
As the rest of the crowd dwindled, Liam asked Drake and Riley to stay behind. He kissed Olivia and promised to join her when the conversation was through.
“So what’s up?” Drake got right to the point once only the three of them remained.
Liam cleared his throat. “Well as you know, I highly value your loyalty to the crown.”
“Heh.” Drake let out a terse laugh. “I don’t really give a fuck about the crown, but I do care about you.”
“In any case, you take your job very seriously and I could see you as head of the guard one day, once Bastien retires.” Liam paused before continuing. “However, I do have another proposition for you.”
Drake raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Go on.”
“How would you like to be the head of Valtoria?” Liam asked expectantly.
Drake’ eyes narrowed in contemplation. “I thought Valtoria was unoccupied. Is there a new Duke or Duchess there now that needs a security detail?”
“No, no.” Liam laughed. “Well, there could be. That’s what I’m trying to ask you. I would like to give Valtoria to you.”
“No fucking way. You have to be kidding me. Did you sign up for some royal version of a prank show now?” Drake scanned the room as if searching for hidden cameras.
“I’m serious, Drake. I think you would make a fantastic duke.”
Drake scoffed. “I’m a commoner who despises most nobles and everything the monarchy stands for.”
“That’s exactly why you’d be perfect for the role.” Liam explained. “Cordonia needs a fresh perspective - someone who can resonate with the people the monarchy serves. Just think, you could have a real voice in creating change. I don’t want to rule like my father has and his father before. I want the people to have the representation they deserve, and you are a key to that.”
Drake sighed deeply. “I don’t know Li. Even if I could do this - if I wanted to - what makes me worthy? What’s everyone going to say when they find out you gave an average dude the title of Duke just because he’s your best friend?”
“I’ll tell them that Drake Walker is anything but average. He’s smart, capable, and fiercely loyal. He’s saved my life more times than I count and has more integrity than anyone I know. Public policy can be learned, but these qualities cannot be taught. He may not be noble by blood, but he is my family, and he belongs.”
'Wow, Liam.“ Drake ran a hand through his hair. "I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re quiet over there.” Liam directed at Riley. “What do you think?”
“Me?!” Riley had been as shocked by this as Drake, and she didn’t know what to think. This was about Drake, not her. Did her opinion really matter? “I, uh…. think this is really Drake’s decision.”
Drake took Riley’s hands in his. “But it’s yours too. I mean, if we are going to be together…”
“Oh, well…” How was Riley supposed to help Drake decide such a life altering thing when she didn’t even have her own life sorted out?
Drake didn’t leave her fumbling for too long. “Liam, I really don’t know if either of use is equipped to answer this question right now. It’s a very generous offer, and the fact that I’m not totally shutting you down for suggesting such a ridiculous thing as me being a Duke should tell you I’m genuinely willing to entertain the idea.”
Liam chuckled. “I completely understand. This life is new to both of you in different ways, and to navigate a new relationship on top of all that is a lot to ask. I’m in no hurry to fill the vacancy. Consider it an open-ended invitation. I trust that you’ll be ready to make your decision long before the public pressures me into making a new appointment.”
“Thanks, Liam.” Drake gave him hug and patted him on the back. “Now get back to your fiancé before she blames me for keeping you too long.”
—–
Back in her palace guestroom, Riley nestled into Drake, her head resting on his chest. “It’s been quite a night, huh?
"You could say that again.” Drake pulled her tighter against him.
“I kind of feel like we’re moving so fast, we’re skipping steps - like we’re being asked to decide the rest of our lives before we even know what we want to do tomorrow.” Riley knew nobody was outright asking for an immediate decision, but she felt the weight of everyone’s expectations. Whether she stayed in Cordonia or went back home, she’d probably be disappointing someone.
“Who says we have to?” Drake asked. “You heard Liam. He doesn’t need an answer right away. I Know you haven’t decided what you want, and I sure as hell don’t know what I’m going to do yet. Why don’t we take some time together to just…be. Do normal couple things and see where the relationship takes us.”
“Normal couple things… I mean I don’t know how I can go back to my normal peasant life after attending weekly balls dressed in couture gowns,” Riley teased, “but I think I could make that sacrifice for you, my commoner boyfriend.”
“Hey, watch who you are calling commoner.” Drake pinned Riley down and tickled her sides until she begged him to stop, and he collapsed beside her again. “I just may outrank you soon if I so choose.”
Riley laced her fingers through Drake’s. “It’s crazy to think how our lives have changed in a few short months. I don’t think I could have made it through all of this without you, and not just because you kept literally saving my life.”
“You may not have taken a bullet for me, but you’ve saved me too. For once in my life, I see multiple paths with meaning and purpose. I’ve seen so much of myself reflected in you, but it id the version of me I want to be, not the one I was. You’ve shown me trials and hardships don’t have to make you bitter, and that you don’t have to fit the cookie cutter mold to find your place here… Oh, God, listen to me. What have you done to me Bennett?” Drake shuddered in mock disgust.
Riley softly pressed her lips to his and pulled back with a smirk. “I don’t think I can take all the credit, or the blame as you might put it. But enough talk about the future. You said we should focus on the now, and right now all I need is you.”
“Well then, your wish is my command.” Drake pulled Riley tight to him and then they lost themselves in each other, completely unencumbered by any decisions about their future. Those could wait for another day.
A/N: I thought it would be nice to see things from Bastien’s POV. Any similarities to anything else out there is unintentional and is purely coincidental. I fell in love with the TRR series late and have only just got into it. I felt that some of the chapters just needed a bit more - it goes along with my previous fanfic where Riley went back to New York briefly after the coronation ball.
All characters belong to Pixelberry.
Apologies in advance for any typos, grammar or spelling errors.
Chapter 2
A few days after the masquerade ball there’s a knock at Bastien’s office door ‘Come in.’ He summons. The door slowly opens and Maxwell Beaumont stands on the other side his hands wringing themselves together nervously, his eyes darting from Bastien’s face to the back wall, his voice small and unsure ‘You asked for me?’
‘Ahh Lord Beaumont yes I did, come in.’ Bastien pulls out a leather computer chair from the desk next to him and places it a foot away directly in front of his own, as he sits down in his own leather desk chair he he motions for Maxwell to sit down. The poor young lad looks uncomfortable and nervous as hell as he sits on the edge of the chair. Bastien enjoys tormenting Maxwell too much, toying with him is just too easy he thinks to himself.
‘So, Lord Beaumont’
‘Please call me Maxwell all my friends do.’ Maxwell tries a smile at Bastien, he doesn’t know why the bodyguard makes him so nervous, well it’s probably got something to do with the silent but deadly looks he gives, that and the all the muscles that strain beneath the older mans suit. Oh, and the fact that he could snap him in half in an instant doesn’t help.
‘We’re not friends’ Bastien deadpans, the stern look on his face unmoving. Maxwell audibly gulps.
‘I need to know everything you know about Lady Riley Taylor.’
‘I’ve already told you everything I know about her.’ Maxwell looks at the bodyguard in confusion ’She was our waitress, we ordered whiskey and burgers, well Drake ordered whiskey and burgers, the rest of us actually wanted steak but you know how Drake is about these things, and she said the closest we’ve got to filet mignon is…’
‘Maxwell’ Bastien growls leaning forward.
‘Sorry’ Maxwell blushes, he knew he was babbling, he had a tendency to do so when he was nervous, he sat back in his chair, trying to put some distance between himself and the intimidating bodyguard.
‘She seemed to get on with Liam well- in fact I haven’t ever seen him so happy as he was when he was with her, so the next day me and Drake went back to her bar and waited for her. We asked her to come back with us and she did. That’s all there is to tell’
Bastien nods his head. ‘So you didn’t go back to her apartment with her?’
Maxwell shakes his head ‘No, we waited for her in the limo.’
‘And what about since then? She’s been living with you right? You must have learnt something about her.’
‘Oh yes!’ Maxwell exclaims, suddenly animated ‘She’s amazing, she knows all the best dance moves and has great taste in music, she puts all the other suitors in their place and yet still holds herself with grace and dignity, errr sometimes she swears but me and Bertrand are trying to drum that out of her, well Bertrand is, I think it’s kinda cute.’ Maxwell’s cheeks grow pink once again.
Oh great him as well, what the fuck has this girl got that’s got them all acting like dribbling idiots? Bastien wonders.
‘No, no, I mean what do you know about her, about her background where she’s come from, her past? Has she told you anything about her family? Her parents? What school she went to? Where she grew up? Anything like that?’
‘Oh um…’ Maxwell looks up to the ceiling tilting his head to the side thinking about the last few days with Riley ‘No, no she hasn’t. We don’t really talk about stuff like that to be honest, we’re too busy teaching her about the court and it’s many protocols.’
Shit. He knew it was a long shot asking the young Beaumont, as nice as the guy is, he’s not the brains of the family. Maybe he should have asked Bertrand he thinks, but the more astute of the two brothers would know that Bastien hasn’t been able to do his job properly, hasn’t been able to find out about the American’s past. He doesn’t want it to get out that he’s so far failed, he’s got enough on his plate with Constantine’s demands on him and arranging the security for the social season. Damn it.
‘Ok Beaumont you can go, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this meeting.’ He gives Maxwell his most menacing stare toying once again with the poor lad, chuckling to himself inside.
Maxwell’s up like a shot reaching for the door handle ‘oh yes of course, my lips are sealed’ he makes a key locking motion on his lips and hurries through the door.
Back to the drawing board Bastien thinks frustrated. He picks up the phone to give an old friend of his in the FBI a call, he needs help on this one, it is as matter of national security after all.
The weeks of the social season pass in a blur, Bastien is rushed off his feet organising the palace guards and personal security teams for the nobles and the Royal Family.
He gets a message that Constantine has summoned him to his chambers. He knocks on the Kings sitting room door and waits.
‘Enter’
Bastien opens the door to find the King standing at the large lead lined window
looking out over the lush green lawns of the palace grounds.
‘Ah Bastien there you are my fellow’
‘Your Majesty’ Bastien bows to the King and enters the sitting room closing the door behind him ‘You wanted to speak with me?’
That in itself wasn’t strange, they often discussed the palace security details outside of their morning briefing, especially when it involved leaving the security of the palace walls.
‘Come, have a drink with me.’ The King walks over to a drinks cart stocked full of decanters of spirits, without waiting for an answer he pours two glasses of amber liquid.
‘Your Majesty, I’m on duty’ Bastien’s not a big drinker at the best of times, preferring to keep a clear head in case he’s needed to respond to a threat at anytime.
‘Nonsense, you can indulge an old man this once.’ The King hands a glass to Bastien and knocks his own against it.
‘What are we drinking to?’ Bastien asks
‘Hmm’ The King pauses thoughtfully ‘to creating our own destiny’
Bastien raises an eyebrow and his glass to The King.
‘Ya mas’ he toasts before taking a sip of the fiery liquid. He remains silent waiting for The King to fill him in on the reason for this impromptu drinking session.
‘Bastien, I need you to do me a favour.’
‘Of course Your Majesty, anything.’
The King runs a hand along his cleanly shaven jaw thoughtfully. ‘It’s of a delicate nature, I need your discretion on this.’
‘Your Majesty I have served you faithfully for over twenty years now, you know my discretion is guaranteed’
‘Of course I realise that Bastien, it’s just, this is for The Prince, it’s in his best interests, only he might not see it that way.’ Lines crease the old mans forehead.
Bastien nods ‘Ok, go on.’
‘I need you to get rid of the American’
Bastien’s eyes widen and his voice falters ‘Ahh. Sir I understand, but Prince Liam is really quite taken with her, it wouldn’t be right to, um, get rid of her.’
The King lets out a deep throaty laugh ‘Good God Bastien what do you think of me! I don’t mean kill her!’ He laughs again and Bastien lets out a breath thank God for that he thinks. He’ll do a lot to serve his crown and country but murdering a suitor is way past his job description.
‘I mean get rid of her from the running, make it so she can’t stay as a suitor. Preferably before the coronation, it won’t give the right image to do it after he’s chosen her. And knowing my son as I do, he will choose her.’
‘Yes Your Majesty, I think he will. However surely it’s his choice to make. Are you sure that’s what you want? You must have noticed as well as I have how happy The Prince is when he’s with her. And the press seem to love her.’
Constantine straightens his posture and takes a sip of his scotch ‘It’s not really his choice to make. This whole ridiculous farce is just for show. He will marry the best choice for the country, not whoever he wants. That’s why I’m asking you. I’m not a fool Bastien, I’ve seen the looks he gives her, you’ve kept me updated on their antics, their romantic rendezvous. He’s just lucky he’s got you looking out for him, not letting him get carried away and caught in a compromising position by the press. It wouldn’t do for the crown to be dragged down in some gutter press scandal involving my youngest son. I don’t want Liam to be likened to his brother and the reputation he made for himself.’
Bastien clears his throat. ‘Your Majesty he’s been quite the gentleman so far.’ He feels bad that he’s required to report back to The King on Liam’s life, but that’s part of his job and he knows if The King found out something that Bastien hadn’t told him there would be hell to pay.
‘Exactly - so far. He’s a young man Bastien, and as old as I am I do remember what that’s like, he won’t be able to keep that up for much longer.’ He gives a rueful smile and turns his back to his bodyguard, moving to stare out of the window once again at the palace gardens beyond. He shakes his head.
‘Bastien I am quite sure. She needs to be gone. She can’t compete to be Queen. She’s not the right fit for Cordonia. She’s not a noble, she’s a mere commoner. Your dossier on her was…enlightening, it’s clear where she gets her stamina and veracity from, however it also made it clear that she was born beneath us, that she’s not fit for our world. As pleasant as she is she’s not good enough for my son or my country.’ He pauses thinking for a moment. His lips turn up at the thought of the pretty American woman ‘Hell, if I was a young prince I would chase after her too for some fun. But even Liam, as soft as he is, can surely see that’s all it can be, that she’s not worthy to wear the crown.’
‘Your Majesty…’ Bastien starts but is cut off.
‘And while you’re at it get rid of that damn Nevrakis woman too, she’s far too feisty and hot headed to be Queen. What with her family’s past I wouldn’t want him choosing her as some kind of consolation prize.’
‘Your Majesty, please I don’t think…’
‘I don’t pay you to think Bastien, I pay you to do. You have my orders. I don’t care how you do it I just want it done. Some kind of scandal should do the job, get it out all over the press, make sure she’s humiliated enough to leave immediately afterwards. Do you understand?’
‘Yes sir, but there has to be another way, please Sir, talk to The Prince…’
‘Bastien’ the King raises his voice an octave ‘Do not overstep the mark.’ Bastien closes his mouth and nods silently. He makes for the door.
‘And Bastien, not a word of this to anyone.’
Bastien places his barely touched drink on the antique sideboard. ‘Very well Your Majesty.’ He bows and leave the room.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His mind is whirling, how the hell is he going to do this, Liam is never going to forgive him. He’s seen how much the young prince cares for Lady Riley. She’s done so well in her time here, even Bastien can now see what it is they all love about her, she’s got them all captured with her majestic beauty, her uncompromising strength, quick wit and dazzling personality. Even the stone cold Drake Walker has totally fallen for her, much to Bastien’s chagrin. That boy is gonna get his heart well and truly broken going after his best friends girl. Ever since Jackson Walker died in the line of duty Bastien has looked out for Drake and Savannah. Drake’s not going to forgive him for this either. He has no choice, he can’t go against the direct orders of The King.
Regretfully Bastien sets up a trap for Riley. He gets that idiot Tariq to try his luck with her, knowing that the fool couldn’t resist the thought of getting one up on The Crown Prince by getting his end away with the favourite suitor. It was easier than he thought it would be. The only thing he didn’t count on was that Drake would go piling in to save her. Still, they got the photos they needed. He sent them to the press anonymously. Constantine had orchestrated it so that it would happen at the Coronation Ball for maximum impact, Bastien was not in agreement to that, the public humiliation was a step too far in his opinion. But The King was ruthless and Bastien had no choice but to go along with it.
I love the interactions between Bastien and Maxwell. I can completely see this dynamic! I also like how you handled Constantine giving the order to Bastien to take out Riley. This is a great series!
note:regarding my prior post, this is a little quarantine goodie from my WIPs that i’m posting for yall per your requests!! tbh as i read it over just now it occurred to me this thing is basically finished so i guess it can stand on its own merit even if it did come from the ‘in progress’ bin. anyway the thought behind this is that it’s just the maxwell/mc side of the later vignettes (so like, around ‘back in the water’ time-wise). i miss these two and writing them made me SAD because they used to be the fucking best in canon. sigh.
summary: the story according to riley and maxwell, circa one engagement tour trip to new york.
pairings: maxwell/mc, mention of drake/liam bc this goes along with the vignettes so like duh
word count: 5100+ (lmao WHAT)
• • •
“It’s weird though, isn’t it?” Riley says, calling over the curtain of the changing area in what she hopes is Maxwell’s direction. The seamstress at her side clucks in annoyance, sticking a pin in her waist a little too close for comfort. “Like, what in god’s name was he doing at a jewelry store of all places?”
“No, it’s definitely weird,” Maxwell’s voice floats back, only slightly muffled by the barrier between them. “Even for Drake. And he truly has his own bar for weirdness.”
“I’ll never understand him, I guess,” she sighs, wincing slightly as the woman pokes at her again. “Of all the people to contain multitudes, I wouldn’t have predicted Drake.”
“Done,” says a voice next to her, and then hands are on her hips, turning her so as to check the silhouette of the dress in the mirror. Riley looks at herself, draped in white like a beleaguered bride, and frowns.
Maxwell calls out, the ever-present joy in his voice at least somewhat encouraging. “Don’t keep the crowd waiting!”
I had to lay down and take breaks reading this cause…
MISS SARAH
this is the flavor I’ve been craving!!! You capture their relationship so perfectly. It’s truly the canon that we deserved that PB could never bring us . Maxwell is far too slept on, in game and in fic (or way too ooc), and you write him with so much love and care. It’s a perfect tribute to his character as a whole. I want to wrap myself up in your writing like it’s a blanket, it’s just like home.
Y'all… the vibe of this playlist this week… it’s just a complex of feels, and I’m in love with it! You NEED to check it out… no, for real. The whole thing. Put it on while you work, clean, study, drive, etc… it’s so, so good!
We have some new faces this week, which makes us soooo super duper excited! Welcome, welcome! We’re glad you jumped in! And of course to our regulars, I hope you know by now how much we LOOOOOVE you! We get so giddy when we see your familiar name pop up! We love out MMM family!
“As We Go Along” - The Monkees; Eleanor’s Kitchen, Chapter 3: Djaj M’qualli [TRR/TRH; no romantic pairings; Queen Eleanor x Duchess Joelle Theron (platonic); Prince Liam x Lady Kiara Theron (platonic)]
I am loving this new playlist! What do yall think? Check it out! And as always: keep your eyes peeled for these incredible fics that are about to be released! Support one another when and where you can!
Thank y'all again for another AMAZING week! Shall we do it again next week?
This week’s playlist gives me the biggest smile! You’ve gotta check it out… like right now! We’ve got some scrumptious fics coming our way, judging by these songs alone! If you are reading this, you know what to do: bookmark these writers, ask for a tag, and/or check out their other work!
Big hugs and thanks for all of y'all! Thank you so much for interacting and sharing our posts!
Another delicious MMM! This playlist is a vibe that I think y'all will enjoy… but you know what y'all will enjoy more? THESE UPCOMING FICS! Go and follow these amazing creators NOW! You don’t want to miss a moment of these stories!
And as always, HUGE thanks to all of you for making this blog happen!
Author‘s note: This is my submission for Luck of the Draw. The song I got was Best Days by Graham Colton@moodmusicmonday Thank you so much for letting me be a part of this and for you guys for hosting this wonderful event. Hope you do another one soon. I’ve never written angst before, so this will probably suck. This is not a part of In Astra in any way, shape, or form. Thanks @txemrn for the encouragement.
A/N: The song above was chosen for me for @moodmusicmonday’s Luck of the Draw event (thank you for hosting!). This is not what I first planned or expected to write but … yeah. The title sums up everything about this pretty well. Thank you to @dcbbw and @the-soot-sprite for reading this over, and @charlotteg234 for reading this over and the title help. I didn’t want to tag anyone, but I did (this is the one time I’m hoping the tags don’t work and this gets lost in the Tumblr abyss).
Another lovely, yet heart-wrenching fic submitted for LOTD! Be warned: grab a box of tissues. Thanks, @ao719, for participating and sharing with us this fic!
YES! More songs mean more fics! Thank you so much for sharing your inspirations this week, and as always, THANK YOU to each and every one of you who interact with this blog! We love y'all!
A Father’s Day Writing Prompt for YOU! Yes, You! Even if I forgot to tag you (because I have the world’s WORST memory)! Even if we have never interacted! Even if you don’t normally write TRR! YOU!
Whoa… maybe not Penn Badgley or anyone else from the cast of You…
Have you seen the video of Prince Louis at Queen Elizabeth’s jubilee closing ceremonies? EVERY PARENT ON HERE will recognize this situation. Take a look:
I was chatting with @ao719, and we wondered: how would Liam react to this? So, now I want to ask each of y'all what you think! So, here it is:
Just imagine: Your TRR LI is at an important public event. The heir (4-5 years old) throws a tantrum. MC is COMPLETELY out of the picture. How would your LI (Liam/Drake/Maxwell/Leo) react?
Rules (?):
No word limit!
Try to post them on or before Father’s Day (Sunday, June 19th–here in the States)!
If you have another character you want to use, such as Rashad, Bertrand, Connie, go for it! Let’s try to stick with just the TRR men.
If you want to insert other children or children from your own series, go for it! As long as there is a child having a meltdown! lol
Let’s just be silly and have some fun talking about our favorite characters. Tag me, and I’ll create a Masterlist.
Also, if you have already written a fic like this, share it again and tag meeeeeee! I’ll put you on the Masterlist.
If you would like to be tagged in the Masterlist so you can read the fics, let me know. My plan is to only post/tag once (probably on the 20th)
@yourmajesty09 oh, how I loved seeing your familiar name pop-up on my feed! So good to hear from you! And thank you so much for taking the time to read this and share it! *hugs*
@sfb123 thank you so, so much, sweet friend! I literally could not have done this without @kat-tia801. She made it sparkle!
I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I always love that you pick up on all the subtleties–like the tea set. It makes me giggle with glee as a writer. Now is there a purpose of this tea set? Not really… except to prepare you for sentimental Liam–I TAKE HIM AS MY LAWFULLY WEDDED HUSBAND!
LOL I’m so glad you enjoyed that banter back and forth during the word association. Knowing @charlotteg234, you KNOW we had to get ribalicious with Armie. LOL
I swear, I was thinking about you during these fluffy scenes, and was hoping they would receive your approval. LOL
Thank you so, so much for taking time to read this, sweet friend! I hope you know we love you and appreciate you!
Good news! We just started on this adventure! Catch up here!
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: With her family facing deportation back to Auvernal, fun-spirited Reid Ambrose quits college to support her family. But as fate would have it, she accepts a temporary job as a caregiver for the royal family, an experience that will challenge her, break her, and devastate her world in the most exciting of ways.
Chapter Series: Three years after the tragedy at Leo’s birthday party, King Constantine addresses the citizens of Cordonia; but his speech will not be well-received by all.
Series Warning: ⛔ Please Be Advised: 18+ Only ⛔This series will contain mature material, including foul language, NSFW , discussion/depictions of war, violence, gun violence, assassination attempts; medical situations, including major character injuries; ethical dilemmas including euthanasia & bodily autonomy; mental health, including depression, PTSD, suicide
AN: Majority of these characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Special thanks to my sweet friend @kat-tia801 for prereading. Also, you will recognize some items from canon; other items may be completely contradictory to canon. Just got with it, and enjoy the story.
I m intrigued with Reid Ambrose. Her family background is interesting equally. Esp that “Reed flower” that her Mom mentioned. The simile touches the right cords. This was beautiful. Now i m eager to see how Reid connects with the Rys.
This gif makes my giggle! I wish I looked this classy and charming when I laugh! LOL
LOL! I’m assuming you know what an axolotl is. I just learned about these cute little creatures last year (I’m so lame!), and I feel like it’s the new sloth or llama (remember when people were obsessed with those? Maybe they still are *shrugs*). So, when I was trying to think of *something* that began with an A, it HAD to be axolotl! LOL
I’m so glad you are intrigued by my sweet Reid and her family! She’s a very high-hopes, glass half-full kinda person… but in this series, we’re going to see her find her breaking point when she meets the Ryses–especially one in particular.
Thank you so, so much for reading and sharing, girlie! I appreciate your reblog so much!
Breaking Point - You Tell Me I’m Worth It (Part 8)
Characters belong to Pixelberry.
Series Song Inspiration: Broken - Jonah Kagen
Chapter Song: Till the Sun Comes Up - Gavin James
Summary: A person can only repress so much before they reach their limit.
A/N: This stems from a few conversations about PB’s inability to let Liam acknowledge anything that he’s gone through. I wanted to let him be human. It’s set in the beginning of the two year time jump at the end of TRH3, prior to any knowledge of the Via Imperii. Thank you to @burnsoslow for looking over the first draft and your suggestions, and @the-soot-sprite for looking it over as well. Please excuse any errors.
You know what’s not a good time? Reading this while listening to Citizen Soldier… JFC… I’m not crying; you’re crying!
I’m so glad to see that Liam took a brief break from his last sesh. Last thing we need is him regressing from all of the hard work he is doing. I love it, though, that that painful session opened up a passage to talk with others, to talk with Riley and Drake.
Let me tell you… reading your rendition of what happened in canon… Ho. Ly. Shit. LOL Like seriously, I was on the edge of my seat. I wanted to be like, “Keep going! Just keep going! I love it!” I also love that you threw in there that Liam isn’t a wet blanket, that he has a backbone. I know you and I have talked about this before, but there were parts of canon where I wanted to shake Liam. COME ON, HUBBY DEAREST! Time to be a KING… at least be a MAN! Come on… But in your retelling of these stories, I think it’s amazing how you show that, no, Liam is fucking pissed off. He does have emotion. If he didn’t have SO MUCH riding on the fact of him being king, he would’ve gone off a long time ago… but he’s trained not to do that. Which… also makes him a great king…. ugh, such a high price to pay…
OMG… I’m in love with their love. I think that’s one of the scariest things about love is you and you alone are the only one who truly knows how much you care for someone. And for Liam who is CLUELESS about love and has fallen so fucking hard for this girl honestly is hoping she feels the same way for him. BUT that damn doubt and that lack of experience/knowledge/whatever you want to call it about love terrifies him that literally they are one step away from her chunking the deuces.
But I loved that, where she says, “Um, bruh, I have my answer, but I Want to know where this is coming from” (okay, so it’s not verbatim. LOL). And I loved when he was like, “Selfishly, I didn’t want her to leave”… oh my heart… I love him so much. Okay, I’ve gotta do it because I’m totally getting these vibes right now…
Good news! We just started on this adventure! Catch up here!
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: With her family facing deportation back to Auvernal, fun-spirited Reid Ambrose quits college to support her family. But as fate would have it, she accepts a temporary job as a caregiver for the royal family, an experience that will challenge her, break her, and devastate her world in the most exciting of ways.
Chapter Series: Three years after the tragedy at Leo’s birthday party, King Constantine addresses the citizens of Cordonia; but his speech will not be well-received by all.
Series Warning: ⛔ Please Be Advised: 18+ Only ⛔This series will contain mature material, including foul language, NSFW , discussion/depictions of war, violence, gun violence, assassination attempts; medical situations, including major character injuries; ethical dilemmas including euthanasia & bodily autonomy; mental health, including depression, PTSD, suicide
AN: Majority of these characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Special thanks to my sweet friend @kat-tia801 for prereading. Also, you will recognize some items from canon; other items may be completely contradictory to canon. Just got with it, and enjoy the story.
~~
Three Years Later…
3:13 PM. The doors to Saul’s Cafe and Bistro were supposed to be locked several minutes ago. But thanks to their regular pain-in-the-neck customer Lucille Fontenot, no one could start their closing duties until her old, annoying ass was out the door. With it being the day before the weekend–an insanely hectic day at that, with crowded lines, large orders and several deliveries around the city–the modest staff is beyond exhausted. They are tired of providing their usual exceptional services.They’re simply done being nice to patrons, especially to women like Lucille Fontenot, who are long-winded and never pleased, who always find something to complain about, and somehow always find a way to speak with the manager.
When the old woman shuffled in ten minutes before closing, the servers and bakers alike rolled their eyes, grumbling under their breath. No one had the patience for this lady and her antics–not this late in the day. Not on a Friday. Not at any point of any day.
Except for her.
“Alright then, Mrs. Fontenot, your roasted apple custards are underneath the apple-pear tartlets.“ The slender brunette carefully grabs the beautifully packaged treats, placing them in a sturdy handled paper bag with a rustic embossing of the restaurant’s name. "And, I hope you don’t mind, but I threw an extra tartlet in there for Mr. Fontenot to enjoy while you ladies enjoy your bridge game in the morning–”
“Oh, Reid, you spoil me,” Lucille giggles with a soft, feminine frailty in her voice. "I can’t thank you enough for all of your help today with these pastries. Clarence won’t let me near the oven anymore. Say, did I ever tell you about the time I tried baking my own pie crust? Well, I was using my great-great-grandmother’s recipe…”
Offering her signature prismatic cherry-painted smile, Reid Ambrose completely zones out from the conversation. God, this woman could talk. The young waitress has already endured the retelling of Mrs. Fontenot’s Maltese’s psoriasis flare-up last year, not to mention she also listened to the painful discussion of the old woman’s bunion removal last month. Again. But another story? After closing?
Reid swallows thickly as she hears the second-hand on the clock tick thunderously next to her ear. She feels the glares from her coworkers, begging for her to get rid of the inconvenient headache of a customer.
Think, Reid, think.
She continues to endure Mrs. Fontenot’s stories, nodding her head as if she is following along. But secretly, Reid feels stuck, glancing around anywhere, everywhere, looking for an excuse to end this conversation. Letting out a silent exhale, she casually pushes back a dark espresso wisp of hair that had fallen out of her thick, high ponytail. Tucking it behind her ear, she glances to her right–and spots the answer to her problem.
A hot water spigot.Perfect.
“… and I completely forgot to turn the oven on! How preposterous is that?”
"Oh! That is!” Reid forces out a laugh, humoring her customer before she abruptly steals her opportunity. “Oh my God! Where are my manners?” Reid dramatically exclaims, scurrying over to their drink-making station. She quickly pours two cups of tea to steep before walking around the counter to face the old lady. “It’s almost time for tea with Mr. Fontenot, and I am just taking up all of your time.”
"But–”
“Now, now,” Reid happily interjects, grabbing the paper bag of sweets, “we can’t keep that lovely man waiting for you." With both drinks in tow, she gracefully heads towards the glass door to exit the bistro, propping it open with her kelly green Chuck Taylors. Reid’s eyes glisten with hope as she bats her long, raven lashes endearingly towards Lucille. She eagerly nods her head, coaxing her out the door. “Let me help you out to your car so we can get you home!”
The hush of silence in the restaurant startles the small staff waiting in the kitchen. Hector, the head cook, looks through a window in the swinging door, scanning the dining area for any more patrons. “Is that old biddy gone?”
“Bompoúnas! I can’t see with your big head in the way!” A larger, older waitress, lovingly referred to as ’Mama’,shoves Hector out of the way as she looks for her coworker. “Is Reid still out there? Oh God, did Fontenot talk to that precious child about her bunions again?”
Another waitress and the dishwasher, Sophie and Geo, sadly shake their heads ‘yes’.
“Theé mou!” Mama religiously crosses herself, pointing to her head, then her chest, followed by touching both shoulders as she rolls her eyes towards the ceiling in irritation. “That sweet baby…”
Suddenly, they all freeze. A loud chime of the doorbell rings out over the entire cafe, signifying a new person has entered the building. It catches them off-guard as they all painfully look through the tiny kitchen window again, hoping it’s not another customer to be served.
“Alright, you chickens!“ The familiar cheery voice, coupled with the hypnotic chuckle makes them all breathe a sigh of relief. "You can all come out from hiding now!”
With resounding shouts of joy and rolling laughter, the bistro workers bound from the backroom. As they surround a blushing Reid with cheerful applause and pats on the back for a job well done, she playfully grabs the sides of her floral skater dress and begins to curtsy before stumbling into her own snickers.
"Girl, I don’t know how you did it,” Sophie jokes. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve strangled her–”
“We all were going to strangle her,” Hector adds, causing everyone to join in with more cutting up and laughter.
“Oh, you guys,” Reid pleasantly interrupts their tirade, dismissing their comments by waving her hand in the air. “She really isn’t that bad–”
“That bad?” Mama scoffs.
“Seriously, Mama,” Reid lovingly places her hands on the older woman’s shoulder, massaging them gingerly. “I think she’s just… lonely. She just needs someone to talk to. All anybody really wants is to be seen and heard–”
“Ha,” Mama laughs sardonically. "I once greeted her with a good morning at 9 AM. She lectured me about how three-fourths of the morning was already gone, and if I really cared for people, I should be wishing them a ‘good day’.”
“That’s nothing,” Sophie sasses, hopping up onto the counter to sit. "She fired me from serving her because I brought her too many napkins. She said that I was being ageist, assuming an old woman would make a mess and would need that many napkins. That woman is a–”
“Hey!” A haunting stillness descends amongst the bistro workers as Saul, the restaurant’s owner and namesake, steps out from his office. “Enough about Fontenot. Let’s get back to work!”
Without a single word being spoken, everyone instantly hops back into the groove of closing up the shop. Reid grabs a broom handle and dustpan, but before she can start sweeping, she feels a tap on her shoulder.
“Hey, Mr. Saul,” she nervously grins, nearly dropping her supplies.
The tall, dignified man kindly nods. “Miss Ambrose, I am proud of the way you handled yourself today… and everyday.”
“Sir,” a humbled expression crawls across her face. “I–”
He holds up his hands to kindly silence her. “You have a real gift with people, not to mention your work ethic… it’s impeccable.” A tenderness infiltrates his voice as he continues. “You’ve made a real difference in this place over the past few years.”
“Mr. Saul,” Reid’s eyes begin to well with tears of joy. “Thank you so much,” she titters, wiping away a tear. “And don’t you worry, sir. As long as you’ll have me, I have no plans on leaving.” With a wink, she twirls on the ball of her foot and starts with her cleaning.
Reid and Sophie quickly sweep and mop the dining area while collecting bags of trash. Because of her bad knees, Mama takes her time, wiping down each table, reloading the napkins and condiments. A flash of light on the muted television hanging in the corner of the restaurant catches her eye along with the words ’special newsbreak’.
“Reid?“ She grabs the young waitress’s attention. "Turn the TV up, would you, paidi mou?”
With a sweet nod to Mama, the spirited brunette balances carefully on a chair to reach the mounted television hanging from the ceiling.
As she tinkers with the knobs on the old set, Reid is captivated by the moving graphics of a breaking news report from the Cordonian Capital. The picture finally changes to a live feed, focusing on a pristine dais with multiple microphones set up outside the palace doors. Hushed whispers and the incessant flickering of cameras plague the otherwise silent moment of anticipation.
"Hey,” Reid hollers out to her other coworkers. “Hey, you guys? I think the king is about to speak–"
Before she can even finish her statement, Reid is met with sarcastic giggles and groans, coming from the kitchen. Hector and Geo slowly mosey out into the dining area, gathering around to hear the special news brief.
”Moraki mou,“ Hector lovingly addresses Reid, offering his hand as she climbs down from the chair. "You’re probably the only one that cares when that malakahumbles himself from the glory of his throne to grace the working-class–”
“Shhh, aye, Papí,” Mama jovially slaps Hector up the back of his balding head, “you talk too much.“ The older woman takes Reid’s hand, squeezing it endearingly. "I think it’s wonderful you stay so vigilant, but then again–” Mama’s expression changes to sympathy as her voice lowers, “–you don’t have much of a choice now, do you, paidi mou?” She gently pinches Reid’s cheek.
Reid’s toothy grin never falters as she sweetly strokes Mama’s face with her thumb. "Now you don’t need to worry about any of that, Mama,” she casually turns her attention back to the TV, but a subtle rigidness deepens her voice. “We’re fine,” she nods to herself, almost as if she is trying to convince herself. “We are going to be just fine.”
Three years ago, nineteen-year-old Reid received the tragic phone call that would change her life forever. The Auvernal native was away from her family’s farm for school at the Capital when the Sons of Earth executed a surprise assassination attack on the monarchy of the northern-border country of Cordonia. War-hungry Bradshaw Achilles, the King of Auvernal, who openly craved an alliance with the neighboring country, took advantage of their temporary moment of weakness and declared war on the rogue military coup.
Like many other Auvernese, the Ambrose family disagreed with Bradshaw. They felt like he was more of a threat to his own people rather than their protector. So, they prepared to seek refuge across the border in Cordonia, who was kindly offering shelter and amnesty grants. These grants included temporary working visas and healthcare.
But before they could escape, the Sons of Earth retreated through the northern border of Auvernal, setting fire to the farmlands. Crops were destroyed, the land completely scorched. Many animals perished.
In his attempts to save his land, the land that had been in the Ambrose family for four generations, Nik Ambrose, Reid’s father, was badly injured when the barn collapsed on him.
When Reid’s younger sister Tana called her from their father’s hospital room to tell her the news, Reid immediately withdrew from school. Without one complaint, she packed up what little was salvageable from their farm, and moved herself, her injured father, and younger siblings to Cordonia in hopes of fresh new opportunities.
The experience has been terrifying–not that anyone could tell from Reid’s positive attitude. Though in fear, she knew deep in her heart that this life, this barely scraping by to make ends meet: it wouldn’t last forever. Someday, they wouldn’t know the pain of hunger or the brutal chill of the cold. This life was going to get better. It had to.
"So he calls a press conference, and he doesn’t even show up?” Hector blows a raspberry. “Where you at, Connie?”
“Wait–wait … I see movement!” Sophie exclaims.
With a special guardsman opening the large opulent doors, a handsome, fit man in full royal regala with brilliant sapphire eyes confidently struts out to the marked platform. Offering a perfectly white, perfectly charming smile, he waves to the cameras, nodding affectionately to the people.
“Now that’s… Prince Louis?” Reid quietly questions, instantly causing snickers from the others.
“Oh, our little Auvernese axolotl,” Hector shakes his head while clicking his tongue. He throws a friendly arm around Reid, pointing to the screen, “Aye, no, that’s the crown prince himself. That’s Liam–”
“Are you blind?” Mama jests. “That’s Leo;he’s the crown prince.” She lowers her voice respectfully, looking conspiratorially around the empty restaurant. “Liam was the son that…well, y’know–”
“Ohhhhh,” Hector’s voice grows grim, taking off his hat in mournful respect. “Right.”
“Butmmmm, that Leo…” Mama’s voice grows dreamily silent, her eyes fixed on the television as she licks her lips.
“Mama!” Hector shudders, “he’s old enough to be your grandson–”
“Bompoúnas!”She playfully swats Hector over the head with a paper menu as they begin to argue in their Cordonian dialect of Greek.
“Hey–hey, you two! It’s on!” Reid motions towards the TV as the royal band announces the arrival of his majesty with the Cordonian traditional hymn, ‘Hail to the King’. King Constantine strides out to the podium, acknowledging the flashes and shout-outs from nearby reporters from newspapers and television stations.
“Good afternoon, my fellow Cordonians. It is a true honor to stand before you this afternoon, not just as your king, but as the commander of a country that has proven to the rest of the world that though we are small in size, we are mighty in power, mighty in spirit, and above all, mighty in heart…”
As the news report continues, Reid feels a towering presence step up behind her. Giving a slight tilt of her head, she is relieved to see Saul with his arms crossed, a yellow envelope under his arm. She gives him a sweet smile, turning back to the program, yet Reid notices something is amiss.
“… Three years ago, the Sons of Earth successfully planned an ambush assassination on the Crown with the plans to overtake our nation…” The king pauses, his knuckles blanching to white as he grips the dais; his face burns red with wrath at the remembrance of that fateful night, the night his family would change forever. He respectfully clears his throat, offering a hopeful curl to his lips. “They planned to create fear, but they weren’t planning on our hope.” Several whoops and hollers resound amongst the crowd along with handclaps. “But, thanks to our brothers and sisters from the south, Auvernal did not waste time in offering their brute strength. The Sons of Earth may have won that battle years ago, but I am here to proudly announce that Cordonia has won the war.”
As the crowd roars with praises, the workers in the bistro happily give each other hugs, shouting cheers of joy. For Reid, she is beyond relieved to hear those beautiful words, her eyes watering with pride, knowing exactly what the price is for freedom and glory.
Constantine continues. “Today marks the 100th day since our victory, which means today, we can safely celebrate 100 days of peace!” At the sound of his voice, a giant banner rolled open behind his majesty, with a giant ‘100’ painted along with dozens of handprints, created by the primary school. “We will always remember the war; but let us not forget the peace that came in its wake.”
The small staff in the bistro started giving each other nods as they started making their way back to their jobs to finish up for the day when Sophie grabs everyone’s attention.
“Wait, guys,” an eerie concern falls over her voice as she instantly looks at Reid.
“What is it?” Reid raises an eyebrow before looking back to the television screen, suddenly seeing that the news headline had changed.
King Constantine: 100 Days of Peace; Dissolution of Amnesty Grants
Reid grabs onto a chair to hold herself steady as the sudden thunderous plodding of her own heartbeat roars in her ears. She can feel her face pale as her palms begin to sweat. This can’t be happening. They can’t be kicking us out. We–we just got on our feet. Reid’s eyes flutter away the tears threatening to come forward as she zones in on the king’s voice.
“The Amnesty grant program was created to protect the innocent in search of shelter from the war. It has served it’s purpose, and the war is now over. We must all work together now to get life back to normal …”
“Wait,” Hector crosses his arms, his eyebrows furrowing at the screen. “So what the hell does that mean? Pack up and get the hell out?”
“They’ve rebuilt their lives here,” hisses Geo.
“Shhh,”Mama hushes, her eyes watering as she watches the television screen.
“Please know our heart: the royal council welcomes you to our great country. But effectively at midnight tonight, the new immigration law will be enforced which includes the following: a homestead tax as well as a welfare tax will be due by the fifteenth of each month–”
“See! I knew it was going to be about taxes.” Hector grumbles, throwing his hands in the air. “Malaka.”
“…check with your immigration headquarters. Also, Cordonians need to take back the jobs that are rightfully theirs. This means effectively immediately, immigrants may only hold a job that has been approved ahead of time by the Crown….”
“Ha!”Geo cackles, “and what jobs would you have aliens do, your majesty?”
“And if their job isn’t approved?” Sophie scoffs. “What? They’re going to be terminated?”
“Can they do that?” Hector looks to Saul who is staring at the ground, rocking on his heels. “Saul? Can they dictate jobs like that?”
“Thee mou,” Mama gasps, turning to Saul. “What does that mean, boss?”
A deafening silence falls on the staff as they all look to their leader. His jaw twitches in anger, but he holds his tongue. His lips quake, trying to form words, but nothing sounds right. He pulls out the yellow envelope from under his arm, an envelope with an embossed seal from the Crown. He stares painfully at it before his bloodshot eyes focus on his best employee.
And her breath hitches. “That’s for me, isn’t it? You’re letting me go?”
“I… I’m sorry, Reid.”
_____
Reid decides to bike the long way home that afternoon. She crosses through the back alley behind the busy shopping district, quickly making her way to the old main highway until she reaches the quiet dirt road that courses to the scenic route to her villa. She needs a moment to herself, a moment to react–not to mention, she wants to avoid the angry crowds with picketing signs in the square.
As she comes to the quiet old stone bridge, she steps off of her bicycle, leaning it against the moss-covered structure. Grabbing her worn satchel, she carefully climbs up onto the thick barrier walls, walking until she reaches the middle of the crossover. Maintaining her balance she sits down, crossing her legs underneath her body, allowing herself to simply be still.
What are we going to do?
Letting her head fall into her hands, she can feel the storm, brewing deep within her chest. She wants to scream; she wants to run until her lungs bleed.
It’s not fair. It’s just not…
She lets out a deep exhale as the symphony of nature suddenly takes over her senses. A simple breeze dances across her olive complexion, drying her heated tears.The brook below her babbles gleefully, splashing playfully the purest of clean water as it hosts and feeds the local wildlife. The hypnotic scent of ivy and fresh dew lulls Reid into a brief moment of comfort.
'Anger is the punishment we give ourselves… for someone else’s mistake.“ Hearing her father’s words of wisdom echo in her mind, Reid pulls out a worn, leather-bound sketching journal and a broken piece of charcoal. As she opens the old portfolio, her fingertips catch on a once-gold embossing: the initials HRA. Her mother’s.
A sudden titter of carefree laughter from a young child steals Reid from her quiet moment alone. She curiously glances down the banks of the waterfront, but no one is there.
Flipping her long ponytail back over her shoulder, she secures a new sheet of paper for sketching. She gently presses the small fragment of coal against her notebook, creating large geometric shapes of potential.
And she hears the giggle again. But this time, as Reid looks up, she notices a single reed sprouting from the delicate current. And she smiles.
"Mamá! Mamá! Look!” Six-year-old Reid crawls onto her hands and knees, drawing closer to the edges of the rushing brook. Missing her top two middle teeth, Reid sticks out the tip of her tongue as she reaches for a tall, green plant that appears to be wading in the water.
“Reid?” A tall woman with vibrant chocolate eyes holds the hem of her long floral skirt as she rushes through the overgrowth of grass. “Where are you, agapoula mou?”
“Boo!” Reid squeals, jumping out from behind the greenery.
Her mom playfully shrieks, quickly snagging her daughter in a tight embrace. “What’ve you got there?”
Reid proudly holds up the long, willowing stalk with a curious brown, cigar-shaped flower. “I picked it for baby Nicholas!” She gently places her chubby fingers on her mother’s blossoming abdomen, her belly immediately coming to life with movement.
“I think he likes it,” Reid’s mother smiles brightly. “Don’t you think we should get something for Tana, too?”
Reid wrinkles up her nose at the mention of her almost-three-year-old sister.
“C'mon, agapoula mou,” her mom holds out her hand for Reid to take. “Let’s pick some wildflowers for her and YiaYia.”
Suddenly a strong gust of wind blew through the riverbend, making the mother and daughter stop in their tracks to shield themselves from flying debris. But, when Reid finally opened her eyes, she screamed.
“It’s gone!” She sniffles, “the flower is gone!" Caught in the wind, the fluffy, cotton-like spores from the special plant dance down the brook until they lay to rest in the water. Reid throws down the green plant as large tears drip down her cherub cheeks. "It’s broken, Mamá.”
Reid’s mother carefully sits down along the bank before pulling her oldest into her lap. She sweetly kisses her temple, pressing her head to her chest. “Oh, agapoula mou,” she smiles, “it’s not broken. Not in the least bit.”
Reid sits up, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “It… it’s not?”
“No,” her mom chuckles, tightening her arms around her daughter. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” Reid’s eyes grow wide as she listens more intently. “That plant you picked is called a reed.”
“What?” The corners of Reid’s mouth curl, the gaps in her teeth showing proudly. “But I’m Reid! I… I’ve never met another Reid before!”
Her mom lovingly massages circles on her back. “Well, this reed is spelled a little different, but you’re right: it’s another Reid. And those little things that flew from that brown, sausage-looking flower?"
"Yeah?” Reid nods her head eagerly.
“Those are called 'spores’. They are carried by the wind, and wherever they land, they grow into more reeds.”
“More reeds?” Reid repeats excitedly.
“That’s right, agapoula mou,” her mother tenderly cups the velveteen skin of her face. “As you get older, life will present itself with hard times, challenges that seem like they want to break your spirit. But remember the flower and how you thought it was broken?”
“It wasn’t broken at all!”
“Not in the least bit,” Reid’s mom grins, “that’s when we grow. Never be afraid to grow where the wind takes you.”
Reid stands up, throwing her arms around her mom’s neck. “Efcharistó, Mamá,” she thanks her, “I won’t.”
An abrupt breeze surprises Reid, startling her from the memory as her art tools threaten to blow away. Clutching onto her mildly wrinkled paper canvas, she looks down and recognizes her simple sketch: a water reed.
With her coal-stained fingers, she effortlessly smudges the rough, dark edges, bringing the two-dimensional creation to life with the use of shadows and light.
But the wind erupts again, teasing to steal Reid’s artwork. Hugging it close to her chest, the air whips around her wildly. With her ponytail dancing in the breeze, she glances back to the water reeds. She notices how the flowers sway and tumble, flip and twirl. But as the wind dies back down into a whisper, the flower remain, staying in place to grow.
Grow where the wind takes you…
Her mother’s smile etches across her lips as her words of wisdom resound purposefully in Reid’s head. A swirl of butterflies tickle in her belly as she looks at their reflection in the stream below the stone bridge. Is this is? Is this what’s best for her family?
You know the answer, agapoula mou…
Instantly, the world doesn’t seem so impossible anymore.
~~
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