Protect and Serve (revised) 2

Following on from Bastien’s confession of his feelings for Sophia - what will her reaction be?

In this AU, Bastien is loyal, efficient and decent, just as he should be.

Bastien’s Confession Part 2

Do you think I’ be so rude as to eat a guest’s dessert? There was an agonising pause which he had to break with another reply. Come down and find out.

On my way

He rose, swiftly putting on boxer briefs and dressing gown. After a while there was a soft knock on the door and he went and opened it to see her standing there, also wearing a dressing gown, holding a spoon, a winsome smile on her face.

‘Sophia…’ He drew her in and closed the door, wrapping his arms around her, inhaling the scent of her hair, her soft curves moulding into him. She was a little shorter than him and her head nestled into his shoulder comfortably. She relaxed into him, sighing softly and they stayed there for a few moments. When she pulled away and raised her face to his he couldn’t stop smiling as he pushed her hair back off her face and leaned down to kiss her full on the lips, cradling her face in his hands. She rose to meet him, the kiss soft and tender. His heart hammered and his head swam, leaving him as giddy as a teenager.

‘So – dessert?’ she prompted.

‘I’m afraid it’s in the ice box – in my bedroom.’ he said apologetically ‘I can bring it out to the lounge if you like.’

‘There’s no need for that. Just take me to it.’ Her tone was husky, her pupils large. He took her hand and led the way to his bedroom. It was significantly different to the lounge - oak panelled like his office, the bare boards of the floor dark and varnished, a rug beside the bed. There was a desk beside the window with a padded swivel chair. One wall was taken up by wardrobe and cupboard doors and a dressing table where he left his cufflinks, comb and clothes brush lying, neatly positioned. He fetched the dessert from the ice box next to the desk, and she boldly sat on the edge of the bed. She kicked off her shoes, letting her bare legs dangle enticingly. She arched an eyebrow.

‘Aren’t you having any?’

‘I most certainly am – may I have the spoon?’ Puzzled, she handed it to him, realisation dawning on her face as he sat on the swivel chair and wheeled it across so he sat in front of her. He dug into the rich dark mouse and held out the laden spoon for her to taste. Silently they shared the dessert, one after the other, eyes locked on every mouthful, on every look of surprise and pleasure, every lick of their lips until the dish was empty. He ran his finger round the inside to get the last trace and held it out for her with a challenging smile. Eagerly she took it into her mouth and sucked, her eyes never leaving his. He felt heat in his groin and saw her eyes darken.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and leaned forward to press his lips to hers, a taste of the dessert still lingering. Without breaking the kiss, carefully he got off the chair and moved toward her. Together they lay side by side on the bed, kissing softly, hands starting to explore each others’ contours. He relished the discovery of her soft breasts and the curve of her hip and soft belly. Respectfully he steered clear of sneaking a hand under her dressing gown, letting her set the pace. Their soft kisses deepened, lips opening and tongues exploring, and he felt himself harden.

Sophia ran her fingers through his hair and down to the back of his neck, circling to his collarbone and pressed her palm to his chest. He felt her start to search for bare flesh, smoothing down over his abs but not venturing any lower. He shifted, hoping to keep the secret of his size a little longer. He was large in every way – not unmanageable, but generous in length and girth.

Thankfully she stopped for breath, and rolled away from him a little. He reached out to feel the softness of her blonde hair, gazing into her eyes. She didn’t flinch, returning his scrutiny and smiling.

‘You took me by surprise. I didn’t think you were attracted to me. You’re a busy man, Bastien, and hard to read.’ He chuckled in reply.

‘To be fair, at first we were pretending to be attached, so that couldn’t have been easy to interpret. Tell me - what drew you to me?’

‘Everything.’ She said simply. ‘Just a little frisson at first, then you grew on me.’

‘Everything? I’m not perfect, Miss Turner.’

‘Nobody is, but I’ve not found anything against you so far.’ She ran her finger along his jaw. ‘Seeing you in the pool clinched it for me. You looked like Poseidon emerging.’

‘I do feel at home in the water. I lived by the sea as a child and learned to swim very young.’

‘Didn’t you feel anything before I bounced you in the training hall?’

‘I liked you the minute I set eyes on you, but I knew you were a lot younger than me and didn’t presume to think you’d be interested. Not only that, but if I knew, and didn’t have such a demanding job, we might have ended up here much sooner.’

‘I’ve not long come out of a relationship.’ She confessed. ‘I was glad to be somewhere different, get my teeth into a new job. I wasn’t really looking for anything, so I was genuinely irritated getting hit on so much.’

‘I could tell. Cordonian men don’t hold back – and neither do the women.’ Sophia’s expression changed.

‘Well that explains a few things. I think I had a few more propositions than I realised.’

‘I was pleased when you said you’re attracted to men.’ Bastien murmured, and kissed her again. He pulled gently at the belt to her silky dressing gown. ‘May I? She bit her lip mischievously.

‘Please do.’ Softly he pulled at the garment, revealing a silky slip and slid his hand under it, over her belly and up to let his palm glide over her breasts. ‘Mmmm, that’s nice.’ she breathed as he bent over her to kiss along her jawline and down to her collarbone. She rolled toward him, letting her knee rest on his thigh. He felt along her side, down to her thigh, feeling the side seam of her panties. Her hand went to his belly, sliding down…

‘Wait..’ he cautioned, but saw her eyes widen in shock as she found her target.

‘Bastien, you’re – you’re pretty big.’ He rolled over on his back in resignation.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you get so far. I usually give my partners a warning.’

‘It’s okay, it was just a surprise.’ She answered. He ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Sophia, I’m not going to make love to you tonight, but it’s not because I don’t want to. The truth is, it’s not easy for most to accommodate me.’

‘I would imagine so’ He turned over to meet her gaze.

‘Indeed. I have to plan the first time with a new partner. I’ve never hurt anyone, though there was one time I had to give up on full penetration. Every other time, it just took time and patience to allow my partner to stretch for me. Every woman I’ve slept with has come back for more – sex isn’t just penetration. I promise you I have a lot more to offer.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ They fell silent for a while, the mood broken. ‘Can I stay and sleep with you tonight?’

‘As long as we don’t sleep naked I think I can remain chaste – can you?’

‘I’m willing to give it a try.’ He sat up and took his dressing gown off, wearing only his boxer briefs and pulled back the covers, getting in and beckoning her. She took her gown off too and slipped into bed beside him. She lay on her side, putting her arm over his chest and nuzzling into his shoulder. He turned off the light and listened to her breathing.

After a while, Sophia realised he was muttering under his breath.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, and he sighed.

‘I’m reciting all the duchies of Cordonia and all the Dukes and Duchesses so that I don’t give in to temptation. It also bores me to tears and helps me to get to sleep.’ She laughed softly.

‘I’m sorry Bastien, I can go back to my room if you like.’

‘No, just turn your back to me please.’ She did as she was told, and he turned toward her to spoon her, throwing his arm over her side and resting his hand on her hip. She sniggered slightly

‘Now I know how much you’d like to go further.’

‘Shhh temptress, go to sleep. I’ve a busy day tomorrow.’ Sophia closed her eyes and smiled to herself. She liked the word ‘temptress’ and resolved to live up to it…

——

Bastien woke bright and early, opening his eyes to see Sophia fast asleep beside him, lying on her back with her arms thrown out, dusky blonde hair spread out on the pillow and her face serene. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and it was less common for him to awake aroused – but this morning he had reason to be. He slipped out of bed carefully, going to the bathroom and closing the door quietly before taking a cold shower, which solved one problem. The other one was whether to wake her or leave her sleeping. It was a long time since he’d woken with a woman in his bed, and a rare occasion generally as he didn’t like sharing his living space.

The decision was made for him as she stirred and stretched. He went to kneel on the bed and lean over to kiss her forehead. He felt his heart skip as her green eyes locked onto his and a slow smile came to her lips, closely followed by his name. Her voice was husky and he couldn’t think of a better thing to greet him first thing in the morning. He had a sudden vision of them lying together, limbs tangled. She reached up to feel the scratch of his beard on her palm. It took a supreme effort of will not to slip under the covers with her, but he needed to go training and he didn’t want to hurry things between them.

‘Sophia.’ her name fell from his lips effortlessly and he realised that now he had admitted his attraction there was no limit to how deep he was falling. ‘I’m going to the training hall, how about you?’ She sat up and blinked sleepily ‘Do you want me to see you back to your room? Are you concerned about being seen?’ She smiled at him and stretched.

‘We started the ball rolling by making sure we’d be seen. We’ve no reason to hide. I’ll be fine.’

‘Now I have a real reason to call out anyone who ogles you or makes a pass. I realise that’s a little chauvinistic - would it offend you?’

‘No, that would be very gallant of you. I do like a little chivalry.’ she grinned. He got up, resolved to get dressed before temptation lured him any further.

‘I have to go. I expect you in the training hall in fifteen minutes, and I warn you that I show no favouritism there.’

Note - this is an extract from a series which I am revising. You can read it from the start here

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Protect and Serve (revised)

Captain of the King’s Guard Bastien Lykel admits his attraction to Sophia Turner, newly employed by King Constantine and Queen Regina as the social season to find a Queen for Crown Prince Liam kicks off.

In this AU, Bastien is all he should be - loyal, efficient and devilishly attractive.

This is an extract from my TRR AU fic featuring Bastien Lykel and introducing his love interest. Part Two to be posted very soon. Nothing too adult in this chapter, but it gets smuffy so NO UNDER 18s

Introduction. Sophia has had some trouble with nobles and royalty making passes at her. She asks the head of security for help, and he suggests that they pretend to be an item to deter them, which she agrees to. One evening he invites her for dinner in his apartment in the servant’s wing where she also lives.

Sophia didn’t have long to get ready to go to Bastien’s quarters for dinner so she swiftly showered and put on a dress that she’d thought might be useful for socialising. It was nothing special, she thought, but it made a change from her usual slim legged jeans or slacks, blouse and jacket. She didn’t really have much else that was different.

She knocked on his door punctually at seven as he had asked, and he opened the door into a small hallway with two doors leading off it which she presumed to be the lounge and the bedroom. He was casually dressed in suit trousers, an open necked shirt with a thin woollen sweater and looked very much at ease.

‘Sophia, how was your day – not too taxing I hope?’ He took her jacket and ushered her into the neatly furnished living area. It was light and airy with a view over the courtyard, whereas her own room on the floor above looked the opposite way toward the stables. An easy chair and couch faced the fireplace and TV screen, and there was room for a small dining table under the window. A shelving system groaned with books and trophies and a sideboard sported a selection of spirits and a compact but modern music system. The décor was simple and fresh, the floor boards bare save for a couple of rugs in a concession to comfort. Ther was a small kitchenette are with a breakfast bar off to one side of the room

‘It was busy but it was good to keep working. I helped housekeeping to tidy up and serve dinner.’ Bastien went to the breakfast bar, where two glasses were set out.

‘Will you have a drink? I can offer red or white wine – the white will complement the main course if you just want to stick to one thing.’

‘Yes please,  white will be fine. I expect your day was busy too.’ He went to the fridge for the wine.

‘On and off. I was on point for a lot of the time so it wasn’t too taxing.’

‘On point?’ she asked as he handed her a glass and started to pour.

‘Oh I’m sorry – basically just staying close to the King and observing.’ She took a sip of the wine, finding it cool and crisp. ‘The food is ready, cook sent a trolley so we won’t be disturbed.’ He pulled a chair out for her. ‘Please sit.’ He turned his gaze to her attire, his grey eyes scanning over her, making her feel a little hot.

‘I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before.’

‘It’s not very practical when I’m working, and it seemed fitting to wear it tonight.’

‘I’m flattered that you wore it. Cook sent melon with parma ham, I hope that’s acceptable.’ They settled down to eat and talked about their day. The main course was pasta with a creamy sauce with flaked fish, and Sophia tucked in with relish. She declined dessert, saying she’d rather let her dinner settle for a while before she had anything sweet. They settled down with their drinks – Bastien in his recliner, Sophia sitting comfortably on the couch.

‘Sophia, I thought it expedient to discuss our arrangement. I respect that you want to I quote ‘find your feet’ in your job before you consider any emotional entanglements, and I feel that may be something to do with your cultural norms. You are English, and from what I have seen with others from your country, you are reserved and don’t express your emotions easily.’ He toyed with his glass, looking at the amber liquid ‘I know affairs are not uncommon amongst the English, but I gather that such matters can cause a lot of upset and emotional turmoil.’ He looked at her with his piercing grey eyes ‘Here in Cordonia we have a more Mediterranean outlook on affairs of the heart. This may be difficult for you to accept, but I’d like to explain a little more – are you comfortable with that?’

‘I’m in a foreign country, I appreciate that your customs are different. Anything you can tell me is welcome if it helps me adjust and fit in with my work mates.’ Bastien widened his legs and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

‘First of all, allow me to explain about marriages in Cordonia, and other matters will follow.’ Again he paid attention to his glass, tracing the cut glass patterns at the base ‘It’s not unknown – in fact its very common for married couples to have lovers or partners outside the marriage – of either sex. As long as their spouse is aware and there are no secrets, it’s considered quite normal. Marriage is seen as a safe harbour for children to grow up supported and safe.’ Sophia took a sip of her drink, her stomach tightening a little. He looked up at her, his gaze solemn but with a trace of warmth.

‘All this means that in general, Cordonians are very free in expressing their desires – as you witnessed at the hands of several of the men, and I’m sorry if that distressed you. However, I hope you can adjust and realise it’s not meant to be threatening – the men that approached you simply found you attractive and hoped you would return their affections.’ Sophia interrupted him.

‘Thankyou for that Bastien. I said I could handle it, it was just – distracting, that’s all, and I’m grateful for your help. I’m not a damsel in distress, as I explained I didn’t want to jeopardise my position here. I’m learning fast.’ she swallowed, thinking that perhaps he had tired of  their arrangement, and she realised she didn’t want that. She dropped her gaze to her glass, watching the bubbles form and rise and pop. Vaguely she heard Bastien saying her name.

‘Sophia, look at me please.’ She slowly did as she was told, meeting his gaze. His expression was soft and friendly.

‘Sophia, I’ve asked you here to find out if we need to redefine our arrangement. There is quite an age difference - I’m ten years older than you – but you’ve told me that you find that attractive. You strike me as very self reliant, and that is important. My job means I often keep irregular hours and am sometimes away for days or weeks. That is partly why I found you a position within the court while it travels, to keep you close, because I find that…’ He twisted his glass in his grasp ‘I find that I like your company, and bluntly put, I’m attracted to you.’

Sophia caught her breath as he held her gaze, grey eyes piercing green. She felt her blood surging in her veins, her head growing light. She stood up, uncertain of what to do, but that made her even more light headed so she sat down again. He put his glass on the coffee table.

‘Forgive me, I’ve shocked you. I should have chosen neutral ground to speak to you, been more gentle. Please forgive me.’ She wanted to answer but her mouth was dry so she took a swig of her drink, her hand shaking. She found herself choking and Bastien swiftly came to her side to take her glass and pat her on the back. After a while she regained her breath and he rested his hand on her back, making smooth circles with his palm until she spoke

‘I – Bastien, that was the last thing I expected.’ she admitted. ‘I thought you’d gotten tired of babysitting me, or you were too busy to carry on. I need some time to think about this.’ He sat away from her.

‘I understand. Whatever you decide, I will respect. The job offer is open, or you can remain here when the court moves out – it’s entirely your decision. Your answer won’t affect your position here. I won’t take advantage of you.’ She turned toward him, trying to stay calm.

‘Thankyou Bastien, you’re very considerate. I – I do have feelings for you but I have to work out what they are and if it’s realistic to go any further. Our work situation…’

‘Is not a problem as far as I’m concerned, as long as you realise that I’m not always available, and there are things I can’t discuss. You seem as if you’re happy with your own company and don’t expect to be cossetted. I’ve had work affairs before and it has never stood in my way. You must understand that for me, work comes first.’ Sophia drew a deep breath.

‘I think perhaps I should go back to my room.’

‘Of course, will you allow me to take you there?’ he asked. She reached for her bag and jacket, and the guard went to open the door to the vestibule. He kept his distance and let her out into the hall, following and closing the door behind him. They walked in silence up the stairs as her thoughts whirled in her head – it felt odd for him to be following her as it was usually the reverse. She turned to him when they reached her door and he leaned on the door frame, pausing as though he was going to move closer, then pulling away.

‘Thankyou for dinner, Bastien. I’ll think about what you said – and I’ll try not to keep you waiting. I appreciate I need to make a decision about the job as soon as possible.’ She barely dared to say anything about the attraction between them, his confession had been so sudden. He raised his eyebrows.

‘Please Sophia, don’t be afraid of hurting my feelings. I won’t take any decision you make personally. It’s a huge part of my job to remain impartial and objective.’ She smiled awkwardly, thinking that every word he spoke made her fall for him more – beyond the physical attraction she felt, he was respectful, honourable and patient. She could tell him that right now, but she needed breathing space.

‘I hope it won’t come to that. I’ll let you know soon, I promise.’ When the door was closed she leaned her back against it. She realised that the attraction between them had grown into something undeniable. Knowing that he felt somewhat the same – what should she do? Her head called for caution, but her body reminded her how long it had been since she had been in a physical relationship.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Heads up for TRR Bastien fans - I’ve been reworking my TRR AU Protect and Serve series and have more or less rewritten the scene where he admits his feelings for his LI Sophia Turner. I’ll post it on Valentine’s day (it’s smuffy) so keep your eyes peeled!

If you haven’t read this AU, my Bastien is the Captain of the Royal Guard that Cordonia deserves - upright, loyal, efficient and ruthless, not the travesty TRH turned him into. No under 18s please.

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Stay

Chapter 1: “A Brave New World”

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

Series Music Inspo: “Awake” by Secondhand Serenade

Chapter Music Inspo: “This is War” by 30 Seconds to Mars

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.

~~

Tags(please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed):

PERMA

@alexabeta@ao719@charlotteg234@chemist-ana@differenttyphoonwerewolf@foreverethereal123@issabees@jerzwriter@kat-tia801@khoicesbyk@lovelyladyk88@lucy-268@mainstreetreader@mom2000aggie@neotericthemis@nikirennie87@peonierose@schnitzelbutterfingers@sfb123@shannonwrote@shewillreadyou@socalwriterbee@tessa-liam

ALL TRR/TRH

@21-wishes@angelasscribbles@burnsoslow@gkittylove99@iaminlovewithtrr@lovingchoices14@motorcitymademadame@princessleac1@rubiwalker@twinkleallnight

ANYTHING LIAM

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STAY

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Sunday Six-ish

I’m currently working on one of the goriest, adrenaline packed chapters of AA. Here’s a small sample of what’s to come. Hopefully once I’m through this one I’ll be able to stitch up the rest of the chapters I have basically completed then they’ll all be posted in bulk

Tags:@saivilo@karahalloway@petiteboheme@shewillreadyou@lovingchoices14@twinkle-320@walkerdrakewalker@tessa-liam@kingliam2019@differenttyphoonwerewolf@queen-arabella-of-cordonia@choicesficwriterscreations

The Clan

Suddenly, the rest of the group rushed her.

An ear splitting scream erupted from her throat.

She kicked and wailed to try and get away – the strangers were too strong.

They continued to drag her from the tree.

The group broke apart to go after Luis and Lucia as soon as the twins made themselves known.

Lily’s heart pounded in her throat, her eyes darted around at the faces that flashed before hers.

They all reeked of death and decay, their teeth yellow and worn down by years of neglect.

Blood.

She could see that now, up close.

Their eyes were painted with blood.

Sunday six

Since it’s still technically Sunday for a bit longer here, I’ll toss a Sunday six out. I know I’ve been pretty radio silent, but I’m dealing with a LOT on the home front. I’ve been working on things, it’s just been slow since there’s so much going on and needing my attention.

Autumn’s Awakening

Po Valley

The valley was misery.

It was thirst; with no way to filter the water, each creek crossing filled their mouths with sand.

It was hunger; rationing every morsel of food, splitting a can of beans between four people hardly left anyone feeling satiated.

It was overthinking to pass the time; with no other way to distract their minds from the hell surrounding them.

It’d only been a few weeks since they saw Jack, but in her heart it felt like years.

Random one-shot

“Let’s draw matches,” Leo belted as he swiped a handful of matches off the table.

“This is stupid,” Drake grunted before taking another sip.

“You’re just worried you’ll draw the short match and strike out,” Rashad jabbed.

“No, I don’t want to play this game. It’s demeaning to all involved.”

“He does have a point,” Liam chimed in.

“You can’t always take his side,” Leo elbowed his brother in the ribs. “It’s almost like you two are together.”

“He’s my best friend,” Liam scoffed, shoving him away. “And I don’t always take his side, only when he makes sense.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Leo’s face and his eyebrow twitched, “that’s exactly what someone in a relationship would say.”

Liam’s jaw dropped while his rosy cheeks grew redder, “I-”

“You what, brother? Anything short of a love confession for our sweet darling Drake-”

Golden boy

Lythikos

“My apologies Lady Lily.”

That intrigued her, he had never called her that unless they were around other nobles. It was always Ms. Starke before now.

Chewing on her lip, she lifted her eyes to see he still kept his gaze averted from her.

“Does Liam need something?”

“No. I came on my own behalf. Would you take a walk with me? Please?”

“Sure? I just need to grab my jacket and shoes.”

“Of course.”

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