#fe writes

Summary: You had met Maekar Targaryen in your first year at university. Total opposites, no one expected the two of you would be friends but here you were, two years later, sharing a flat.

He was your confidant, your best friend, the brother you never had.

When he asks you to spend Easter with his family, you agree, not thinking much of it.

It’s only the beginning though, as you meet his oldest brother, Baelor, heir to their father’s company and successful in ways you’ve only dreamed of. It doesn’t help that he’s kind and charming.

There’s an undeniable attraction between the two of you, but you’d never want to put Maekar in an uncomfortable situation.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come keep you company, lẽkia.” She spoke softly, eyes darting across the space without finding a clear destination. 

Aerys might have failed in certain aspects when it came to social interaction and the like but he knew his little sister better than most. And he could tell when there was something amiss. “You came here for a reason, little sister.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, furthering his concerns. It was unlike her. The youngest of his siblings were a bright presence wherever she went, the light of their family. Now however, in the privacy of his study, she was smaller. Something was weighing on her.

“Is this about Ashford?”

If Aerys wasn’t so attuned to her, he would have missed the way her breath hitched, how her shoulders steeled as if waiting for a blow. It only lasted for a second but he saw it. “If you’re worried about our brother, your fears are in vain, bykys zaldrīzes. Baelor will be fine. His recovery has been swift, there should be little reason for concern.” 

Their oldest brother had been hanging between life and death for weeks after the Trial of Seven and for a while, it looked like the realm might suffer a loss that would be difficult to recover from. But then something happened. He had started to show signs of improvement, slowly but surely. And before anyone knew it, Baelor was awake. The maester had worried that the injury would leave him impaired but he had recovered without consequences. 

“What if there’s a reason his recovery happened so swiftly?” She still didn’t meet his eyes, fingers tapping anxiously against the armrest of her chair.

Aerys leaned forward in his seat, seeking her eyes. “Whatever do you mean?”

She shifted slightly, letting the answer hang in the air between them. “It doesn't matter. Ignore me, I’m simply worried. I’m sure you’re right, he will be fine.”

She was standing before he could protest, shaking her head. “I will leave you to your books. Forgive me for disturbing you tonight, it was not my intention.”

Aerys stood then, reaching out for her hand. “Hãedar, you’re worrying me now.”

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Worry not, brother. I’m fine. The lack of sleep has its price, as you know. I’ll ask the maester for some dreamwine, so as to soothe my mind.”

Her hand was warm in his, their Targaryen blood running hot through their veins. Aerys could do little but accept her words, even if it felt wrong. There was something she wasn’t saying but he wouldn’t push. It wasn’t in his nature. Instead he did something he rarely allowed himself to do. He gathered her in his arms, slowly and somewhat awkwardly. Aerys wasn’t the one for physical affection but his little sister, his bykys zaldrīzes, were different from the rest of the people surrounding him. Maybe his embrace would help her anxiety. Maybe it wouldn’t. But he would try, for nothing else, she held a special place in his heart. 

He could do little but watch as she left the study, footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. A hollow feeling was gnawing in him, that something was amiss, that her excuses were simply a distraction to hide something else. But he couldn’t force the answers to questions he had yet to ask, nor did he want to put her in that position. 

Aerys would have to trust that she would come to him whenever she was ready for it. He hoped that despite all his flaws, she knew that he would be there for her, regardless of what was weighing on her mind. He lacked a lot, as he had been aware of since boyhood, but his love for his little sister was one of the few things that mattered to him. All he could do was pray that she knew without him having to voice it. 

Rhaegel POV

Rhaegel had heard the whispers that had surrounded him his entire life. Weak, simple, touched by madness. 

He knew them to be true. He wasn’t like his brothers. He was no warrior, no scholar and on his best days, he was barely a prince. Rhaegel knew this. It plagued his father, worried his mother, hurt his wife, and followed his children. 

But with her, he never had to pretend. She simply let him be, simply loved him despite all his flaws. She held his hand through the dreams, listened patiently as he spoke of things no one else understood. 

Rhaegel knew her before she came into the world. He saw her in his dreams long before their mother announced her pregnancy, declaring that they would gain a sibling. His brothers had been surprised but not Rhaegel. He already knew. 

When she was born, he knew her. Knew her eyes, her smile, her soul. She was the one constant he could focus on. He remembered when her small hand had gripped his finger, violet eyes staring into his very own, reminding him that he wasn’t alone in this world. He had loved her fiercely, for he knew her in a way his family did not. 

It was, of course, in his own strange way. His brothers all loved her in their own way, their bykys zaldrīzes. But it was love all the same. She was theirs, their sister, the one that completed the family.

Night had fallen over the Reed Keep hours ago, yet he was still awake. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Tonight sleep had evaded him long enough that he had given up. 

He wandered the keep, footsteps light as he walked the dimly lit corridors. The guards were used to him by now, he guessed, for they did little to stop his drifting. He knew that they would stop him from leaving but tonight he had no such plans. 

His mindless wandering led him to her chambers without him even thinking of it. He just needed to be there. Her chambers were empty as he snuck inside, the candles flickering in the wind and the fire burning low. The sheets were cool, meaning she hadn’t been there for a while. 

Rhaegel wasn’t worried. She was most likely at Baelor’s side, as she had been since the tournament. Her worry for their oldest brother outshone their own, even their mother’s. They had always been close but she had lingered even more after the incident, rarely leaving Baelor by himself. 

He hadn’t been able to make sense of the dreams. Although, they rarely made sense. But he had felt dread when his brothers had set off for Ashford, dread he could not voice for he would only be regarded with pity, words that meant to soothe but never did. The dread had proved itself to be real, as the raven arrived from his youngest brother, heavy with guilt and shaky words written in stale ink. 

Rhaegel felt her before he saw her. He had always been aware of her soul, more so than others. It was a part of his very being, tethered to him since she took her first breaths.

“Dãrilaros.” He spoke quietly, so as to not startle her. As if she knew he was there already, she simply smiled at him, approaching him slowly. He stayed in his spot by the window, letting her come to him. 

“Rhaegel. Is everything alright?” She spoke softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. Her movements were slow, giving him time to step away if he wanted to. He didn’t.

He’d never liked other people touching him but he had never minded his sister's touch. It had always been gentle, comforting and kind.

“The dreams kept waking me up. Where were you?” His own voice sounded small in his ears, fragile even. He wondered why. 

Rhaegel could feel her hesitation and he understood. He had seen it already, what she had done. 

“I was with Aerys. It seems like sleep has eluded all three of us this night.” She moved closer to his side, settling onto the window seat. He watched as she pulled her knees against her chest, closing in on herself. 

He took a seat next to her, his hand finding hers. “He didn’t give you any answers.”

She shook her head. “I never asked him any questions.”

He regarded her for a moment, his little sister. The dragon must soon fly.

The whispers crept up on him, as they always did, lurking just beyond his grasp. He pushed them away, trying to stay with her and not get lost in his own head. 

“You haven’t told anyone.” He leaned in close, like they were sharing a secret no one else knew of. In a way they were. 

She let him come closer, simply accepted his presence in a way others didn’t tolerate. “No. I see no reason to. What’s done is done. I’d do it again if I had to.”

Rhaegel’s gaze drifted then, beyond her face, over her shoulder, down to the dark courtyard below them. “There have yet been demands of a price.” He spoke not to her but to the room, as if they were no longer alone.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her thumb pressing against his pulse. It was a familiar gesture. She had done it since they were kids, to calm him, to bring him back from the brink of insanity and back to reality. 

“The dragon must fly soon. I keep hearing it. It waits for me around corners, rumbles through the stone, bathes in the moonlight. Soon it must fly, it is the only way to right the wrongs done, do you understand?” He rambled now, thoughts far away. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, eyes landing on the window hatch just behind her. She didn’t notice. 

As always, she was gentle with him. “Okay, lẽkia. It’s okay. We can right those wrongs, together. I will help.”

He stood abruptly, ripping his hand from hers. “You don’t understand, the dragon must fly. There is no other way!” He was breathing heavier now, eyes hollow as the whispers grew louder and louder until nothing else could be heard. 

Rhaegel was aware that she was speaking, hands reaching for him. But the voices grew stronger, the whispers turned into screams and he couldn’t stop them. He had to right was had been wronged. It was the only way for them to stop, the only way for him to be left alone.

He pressed his hands to his ears, swaying back and forth. Fly, fly, fly. If only he could make the dragon fly, then it would all be alright. Things would go back to the way they were and they wouldn’t have to worry. 

There was a strange sensation spreading over his skin, a burning of some sorts. It slowly consumed him and the fire licked at the edges of his mind. Flames burst forth along with the voices, darkness coming for him beyond his vision. He should fight it, he knows but it is futile. He cannot stop it, no matter how he tries to fight it. If the dragon flies, all will be well. 

The abyss threatens to swallow him whole and he can do little but to take a step towards its embrace, hoping that it will work in his favour. He can hear something, just beyond his own heartbeat but it’s faint and the darkness allows him no time to focus. It consumes him whole, spreading along with the fire and he loses his vision to the void. 

All of a sudden there is nothing. No fire, no darkness, no whispers. The dragon has flown. The price had been paid. 

Baelor POV

The scream tore through the air, waking him from his slumber. He struggled to sit at first, cursing his own body. Sleep was slow to leave him, making him disoriented as he grappled to understand what was happening. 

There was raised voices outside his door, footsteps thundering down the corridor. He shoved the sheets to the side, reaching blindly for a tunic. The fire had transformed into glowing embers during the night, failing to provide a proper source of light. The candles were burning low but did little to help his vision. 

Baelor’s hand fell to the dagger underneath the pillows, eyes searching wildly for the source of whatever panic had roused the keep.

Someone was banging on the doors to his chambers and he barely had time to stand from bed before they were flung open, a servant he couldn’t quite place rushing in, foregoing protocol. The boy’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes wide as he quickly apologised.

“My Prince, I am sorry for the intrusion but there’s been -”

“BAELOR!” Maekar’s voice boomed across the hall, his youngest brother appearing in the doorway, in a similar fashion of the servant. His blonde hair was sticking out in every direction, sleep still heavy in his eyes. It was clear by his appearance that he thought the commotion was connected with Baelor himself but when he saw that all seemed to be in order, he visibly relaxed. 

Baelor turned back to the servant. “What is going on?”

“It’s your brother, My Prince. He’s in the south courtyard.” 

Maekar was already striding away and Baelor followed swiftly, dagger clutched tightly in his hand. The back of his head was throbbing but he ignored the pain, moving quicker to match his brother’s pace. 

Brother could mean Aerys or Rhaegel but as they rounded a corner they ran into Aerys coming down from his quarters. It didn’t surprise Baelor that he was awake. “Rhaegel?”

Baelor only nodded and continued to follow Maekar’s swift pace, who hadn’t bothered to stop when running into their brother. “It seems so.”

The screaming grew louder the nearer they got to the courtyard, which hurried all three of them. Neither was a stranger to Rhaegel’s odd moods and quirks but this felt different. Baelor turned to the nearest guard. “Alert the King and Queen. And our sister.”

Baelor was anticipating having to deal with another episode that Rhaegel so often suffered, steeling himself for whatever scene they were about to encounter. 

Nothing, however, could ever have prepared him for what lay in front of them as they entered the courtyard. 

The first thing he saw was the blood, slowly spreading over the cobblestones. A deep, dark crimson, so familiar yet so foreign. 

It was a stark contrast against the white nightgown of his sister, whose lifeless eyes met his as he came to halt before Rhaegel. His stomach lurched as he realised what he was looking at, bile rising in his throat. A cold dread spread throughout his body, the dagger falling to the ground with a clang. The sounds echoed across the courtyard but he did not hear it. He could only hear one thing.

Rhaegel wouldn’t stop screaming, clutching the body of their lifeless sister to his chest so hard that she was sure to bruise, had she still been alive. Tears were streaming down his face, a deranged look haunting his eyes. He screamed and screamed, pulling her body closer as if it would help. 

Baelor scarcely noticed how Aerys had gone very still at his side, face griefstricken as they both tried to wrap their heads around what they were seeing. 

Their youngest brother was the only one not frozen still.

Maekar was trying to pull Rhaegel away, for him to let go of her but it only served to make Rhaegel more crazed, striking out against their youngest brother. His fist hit Maekar in the side of the face, making him stagger backwards. Baelor caught his arm, pulling him upright without considering the action.

“My Prince, forgive me but we cannot locate the princess -” Ser Donnel stops abruptly as he comes to a halt beside them, choking on his words as he too sees what Baelor and his brothers cannot look away from. 

“Gods be good.” The whitecloak whispers, bowing his head. Baelor thinks he sees the faint tremor of Donnel’s hands but he can’t be sure. Nothing is making sense. 

“Ser Donnel. Close off the courtyard. No one gets in, understand?” 

Footsteps thunder across the stones and for a moment, everything goes very still. Baelor looks up only to see his father and mother crossing the short distance and he steels himself once again. His body moves without thought, stepping around Rhaegel and his sister, as to shield his parents from the scene. 

Maekar has the same thought because he very firmly plants himself in front of them, hands coming up to stop their mother from advancing. “Mother, don’t.”

“Son. Stand aside.” Daeron’s voice was quiet but Baelor could hear the faint tremor in it. He hadn’t been quick enough, they had both seen what lay in front of them.

“Father, I -”

“Baelor.” It was sharp as a razor, a quiet command without raising his voice. “Let me through.”

He could do little but move out of his father’s way. He wanted to look away but Baelor watched as Daeron approached Rhaegel, face twisting into something he could not name. 

Baelor had never quite seen his father like this before. As the oldest and his heir, he had been by Daeron’s side through everything since he was old enough to do so. The Blackfyre Rebellion had taken its toll and Baelor had witnessed firsthand what effect it had on his father. He’d seen it all.

But nothing could prepare him for the sight of watching his father crumple to his knees, shaking hands reaching out to take the body from his brother’s arms, cradling his only daughter close. 

Aerys grabbed a hold of Rhaegel, pulling him away. He had finally stopped screaming, only now staring down at their father and sister, eyes empty. Aerys’ face was ashen, colour drained as he kept a tight grip on their brother. 

Crying reached his ears and Baelor realised too late that it was his father. He watched as Daeron wept into his daughter’s hair, sobs wracking his body. 

Movement was caught in Baelor’s peripheral vision and his head jerked up just in time to watch as Myriah collapsed in Maekar’s arms, mouth open in a soundless scream. Maekar went down with her, sinking onto his knees, cradling her in the same manner their father was cradling their sister. 

Rhaegel leaned  heavily against Aerys, who struggled to hold his weight up and soon they both sank onto the ground, leaving Baelor as the only one standing. Rhaegel was muttering, rocking back and forth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He wanted to ask what he meant but he found no words. His head spun and he braced himself, trying desperately to stay on his feet. He could not fall. He had to be strong.

But as he watched his father cry, Baelor turned away and stumbled towards the wall, hands catching against the rough stone. He sank onto his knees, trying and failing to catch his breath. Tears streamed down his face and he tried to breathe, trying to calm down but he can’t. 

Somewhere behind him, his mother screamed. It’s a jarring sound, sure to haunt his dreams for a long time. Unlike Rhaegel’s frantic screams from earlier, Myriah’s screams are devastating, a wail that doesn’t resemble anything Baelor’s heard before.

He blinks furiously, wiping at his face to remove the tears but it does little to help. Black spots appeared in his vision, his head was pounding and he tried to rise but failed. He grasps at the wall, trying to find his footing and suddenly Ser Donnel is there, offering a hand but the black spots grow larger and his throat constricts, making him gasp for air. He fights against it but his body won’t listen and just as he think he’s making headway, everything goes dark.

“I ran into some old friends while in Lyon.” 

Matthew didn’t even bother to knock as he entered his brother's office. Baldwin held up his hand, phone pressed to his ear. 

“Don’t think that I won’t let this go. You have until Friday to fix this.” 

He hung up before the blabbering idiot on the other side could form a coherent reply, turning his attention back to Matthew. “We have quite a few of those, brother. You might want to be more specific.” 

Matthew dropped into the chair opposite Baldwin, without the grace of a millennia old vampire. “The Castellanos.” 

“All of them?” Baldwin inquired, leaning back into his chair. 

Matthew shook his head. “Only Alessandro and Elena but apparently they’re all going to be here at some point this month. We should pay them a visit. Or invite them here. It’s been quite some time since last.”

Some time was an understatement. The Castellanos had paid their respects after the loss of Philippe, an appreciated gesture of course, but it had been over 70 years since he had met any of them. 

They had been valuable allies and losing the ties between their families had been a mistake but after his father’s death, Baldwin had enough on his plate. On the other hand, 70 years in a vampire’s life wasn’t that long. Getting back in touch wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And he had been slacking recently with family business, too busy with work. 

“Are they residing in Lyon, or just visiting?” Baldwin inquired.

Matthew smiled. “According to Alessandro they relocated here when their youngest got accepted for university. They wanted to stay close. Not sure if all of them actually live there though.”

Baldwin raised an eyebrow. “Giovanni is studying again? If I remember correctly, he’s already acquired a few degrees in the last few decades.”

“Ah, here’s where it gets interesting. Their youngest is a newer addition. She wasn’t around last time we saw them.” His brother had a mischievous look on his face, something that rarely bode well for Baldwin. What could possibly be the reason for his brother’s excitement?

“A new vampire among humans? I’m surprised they’re willing to risk it by letting her attend university.” Baldwin commented, leaning forward and locking his hands together underneath his chin, his light brown eyes locking onto Matthew. 

His brother mimicked his position. “It’s not a new vampire. She’s human.”

That caught Baldwin off guard. While the recent years had made him somewhat more emphatic towards other creatures, warmbloods among them, he wouldn’t say that he understood why some thought humans fascinating. 

“A warmblood? Are you sure?” He questioned, wondering if Matthew was playing some kind of joke on him, simply to see how he would react.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

Matthew nodded. “Yes. She seemed nice. She’s attending ENS de Lyon, which is impressive. I didn’t have the time to chat more, which is why I think a visit or invitation would be nice. Catch up about the last 70 years.” 

Baldwin had four situations related to work that required his attention, Diana was on his case for something about the Congregation and he needed to deal with the latest issue concerning one of his sister’s children. 

Ideally, he wouldn’t have time for this, even if reconnecting with Alessandro and his family could prove useful. But the intrigue of a human family member in a vampire clan was tempting to explore. 

“Get in touch with Alessandro. See what fits them best.” Baldwin ordered, not caring that Matthew technically didn’t have to follow his orders. But their relationship had improved in the years that had followed his brother's mating and the birth of his children, so he didn’t think it was an unreasonable request. 

Matthew rose from his seat, phone in hand. “I’ll keep you posted. Oh, I promised Becca you would stop by later, just so you know.” 

Never the one to refuse his niece anything, something Baldwin would never admit to doing openly anyway, he simply nodded his agreement. “I’ll stop by after I deal with the idiots trying to ruin my company.”

He watched as Matthew left the office, phone already pressed to his ear. He couldn’t exactly say why but he felt a little off about potentially seeing their old friends again. 

Baldwin wrote it off as stress combined with the fact that it had been a while since he fed. Looking out at the darkening sky, he thought he might as well take advantage of the twilight. It would help get him mind off work and the other issues that were currently on his plate. 

He would need to return to Sept-Tours soon, but it could wait. For now, he needed to clear his head. And a hunt might be exactly what he needed.

There was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as serious as her tone suggested though. Jake flopped down on the couch next to her, plucking the beer out of her hands. “Is this MLS?” 

She snorted, rolling her eyes as she looked him up and down. “MLS is a shit league. It only got interesting since Messi signed for Inter Miami and it’s still shit. You know, we call it the retirement league because it’s where all the greats come to wind down and just kick around.” 

“Hey!” Jake protested. “Doesn’t it have a somewhat good reputation?”

She shook her head. “Baby, I love you but you’ve been greatly deceived.” She patted his cheek, opening another beer, seeing as he had stolen hers. 

Jake grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. Granted, his soccer knowledge was limited but he thought that MLS at least was a popular league. 

“What’s this then?” He pointed to the screen where the game was playing. 

His girl clapped excitedly, tossing the cap onto the table. “This is the greatest league in the world. I give you the Premier League.” She dramatically spread her arms, as if showing him something of great importance. 

In a way, Jake guessed that she was. He had no idea she was this passionate about this but he found it endearing that she did. 

“I recognise that, it’s England, yeah?” Jake was 80% certain he was right but he could also be wrong. Like he said, his knowledge of soccer was limited. 

“Yes! PL is played in England and it’s hands down the most popular and watched league. But there’s obviously others as well.” 

He was a bit intrigued and Jake also wanted to know more about something that made his girl this excited. “Others?” 

“Oh, you’ve got La Liga for example, and Ligue 1. And then there’s Serie A and Bundesliga. My dad used to watch a lot of Eredivisie too. He was a lifelong fan of Ajax.” She quieted down a bit at the end, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her dad. 

Jake pressed a kiss to her shoulder, hand finding hers. He gave a supportive squeeze. He understood now why this was so important to her. 

“Did you guys watch a lot together?” He asked as the game seemingly was paused, the players leaving the field. 

“Yeah. He took me to my first game when I was 4. I barely remember it but I remember the feeling. And he coached my team for as long as I played.” 

That surprised Jake. “You used to play?” It wasn’t something that had come up but he guessed it was somewhat of a sore subject. 

“From the age of five til I was fifteen, maybe sixteen,” she paused. “Uh, I quit playing when he got sick. He wanted me to continue but it just wasn’t the same. It was our thing and then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and..” 

Jake pulled her into his arms, lips pressed to her forehead. “Baby, why haven’t you told me about this before? I would have loved to know more about football if I knew it meant this much to you.” 

She smiled when he called it football and Jake counted it as a small victory. “I honestly don’t know. You’re more of an American football fan and I just figured you didn’t care about this.” 

“I would have cared if you told me. Hell, I know you don’t really care about the Cowboys but you still hang out with me when they play. And wear the jersey.” 

She laughed then, leaning back from his embrace but kept their hands intertwined. “I wear the jersey because I know it gets you all hot and bothered.”

“Well, that’s definitely a perk. You do look very good in blue.” Jake kissed her then, hands sneaking under her shirt to trace her skin. 

She was blushing when they pulled apart and Jake grinned, proud to be the one to make her that way. 

“So is Ajax your team?” He asked, playing with the hem of her shirt. 

“No. As much as I respect and enjoy Dutch football, the Premier League always called to me more. And then I fell in love with Manchester United.” 

Jake’s eyebrows shot up, teasingly pinching her sides. “Fell in love, huh? That means I got competition?” 

She rolled her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for the Red Devils.” 

“Good. Is this them then?” He gestured towards the screen, where the game had resumed. 

“No, they play Aston Villa tomorrow. This is Newcastle vs Arsenal.” 

Jake watched as the team in black and white kicked the ball back and forth. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. I know nothing.” 

She launched into the game, explaining what was happening as well as informing him about the rules and terms. Jake tried his best to keep up but figured he was going to have to do some independent studying to catch up. 

If this was important to his girl, it was important to him. He watched as she kept on talking, gesturing back and forth with her hands, eyes alight with excitement. 

“But there must be leagues outside of Europe, yeah?” He asked after learning that the ones she had rambled off earlier were all based in European countries. 

“For sure, but those are the most popular ones. And considering how much of an impact the Champions League, Europa League and Conference League have, it’s difficult for leagues outside of Europe to compete.” 

Jake’s mind was reeling, trying to piece all the information together. “Wait, Europa League and Champions League? Conference? Where’s that?” 

“All of those are played by teams in Europe. You qualify for UCL when you win your league in your country, and the second tier goes on to play in the UEL and third tier in UECL.” At Jake’s confused expression, she smiled apologetically. 

“Sorry, this is way overboard. How about we keep that for another day and we just keep to the basics for now?” 

Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes please.”

She handed him another beer, smiling softly. 

“So, do I get a Manchester United jersey? It’s only fair, I got you a Cowboys one.” Jake asked. 

He was comfortably leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Initially he had tried to get her to snuggle with him but quickly found out that she wasn’t going to sit still while watching the game. 

“Babe, you’ll get a jersey when you deserve one. Maybe earlier if you can explain the offside rule to me.”  

He was screwed then. “Never mind. I’ll wait.” 

“It’s really not that difficult. A player would be seen as offside if their entire body is in front of the last defender of the opposing team, on the opposing team's half.” 

Jake tried to imagine what it would look like but his mind came up blank. “You’re just speaking gibberish, that doesn’t make sense.”

She smiled softly, a gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a football fan. Just you wait.”

“I can’t wait. I’m also very excited to see you watch your team play.” 

The game was now over and she climbed into his lap, hands finding the back of his head. “Oh, you’re in for a wild ride.” 

Making the most of their position, Jake grabbed a hold of her thighs as he stood up, ignoring her squeal as he headed towards the bedroom. “How about I give you a ride right now?” 

Two months later, when Jake officially got the offside rule right, a package was waiting for him on the kitchen table when he got home. 

His heart swelled as he pulled out a bright red Manchester United jersey, embroidered with his callsign on the back. There was a note inside the box as well and Jake laughed as he read what his girlfriend had written. 

Now you’re a real football fan. Glory glory Man United! 

Ps. Come find me ;) 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” He called, jersey in hand as he stalked the house. 

Her laughter echoed through the house. “Come claim your prize, cowboy.”

He typed out a quick message to Stiener’s supervisor and his Head of HR, making sure they understood the severity of the situation and implying that the man shouldn’t be an employee by the end of the day. 

Both of them had worked for Baldwin for several decades and neither of them questioned his text but only responded that it would be done. 

His offices in Lyon and Paris rarely required his presence but he still stopped by regularly while visiting Sept-Tours. He knew the inner workings of his company to a default without him being present but it never hurt to make an appearance. 

After leaving the de Clermont seat on the Congregation to his sister-in-law, Baldwin had relocated to London even if he spent the majority of his time travelling between his various branches of the company. 

He was due to return to London within the month but he still had a few obligations in France to deal with before going back.

Baldwin decided that some fresh air would be good, even though he didn’t need it. But it would provide a distraction and he could use one. He left the office without a glance back, knowing that business was taken care of and he could divert his focus on other matters. 

Lyon was as familiar to him as London and he wandered the streets without much trouble. It was a cloudless day and the signs of early spring was in the air. He wasn’t exactly a man that found enjoyment in such things but it was nice regardless. Recent events had taught him to appreciate those things he’d earlier thought lackluster. 

As he turned a corner on a smaller cobblestoned street, he stopped abruptly as an enticing scent flooded his senses. His eyes darted around the space, searching for the source and landed on a woman further down the street, sitting outside a café.

Jasmine and bergamot. Her scent drew him in, calling out like a beacon in the dark. It engulfed him, settling into his bones and his very being. The predator in him roared to life, urging him to give in to his instincts but the rational side pulled him back, begging for him to see reason. The scent was overwhelming and Baldwin fought to stay in control, trying to stop the only word running through his mind.

Mine.

The thought startled him, the admission so strong it threw him off for a moment. The word alone grasped him with an ironclad grip, refusing to let go. He tried to move but for some reason his body betrayed him, staying rooted to the spot. 

A metallic screech could be heard and it was only then Baldwin’s focus returned, looking down to see the railing bending in his hand. In the commotion that had occurred, he hadn’t even noticed grabbing onto the material. 

Luck was on his side, seeing as no one had seemed to witness what was happening and he hastily pulled the metal back into its original shape without much effort. 

The distraction gave him some momentum and he straightened to his full height and stopped breathing. But even that didn’t help, as he could still feel the magnetic pull towards the woman who hadn’t even turned in his direction. Yet he was overwhelmed by her scent, her very presence and he didn’t understand why.

Never in his life had he reacted to a warmblood this way. There had been countless women, both human and vampire, throughout the years yet none of them had caused this kind of reaction. 

Maybe it was witchcraft. But he sensed no witch nearby, so that explanation wasn’t plausible. His mind was racing through possible scenarios but nothing could determine his current predicament. 

Before he could stop himself, he stalked further down the street, towards the café. Towards her. 

He was so painfully close, only a few metres away when his mobile phone rang, vibrating in his coat pocket. He let out a quiet growl at the interruption, cursing whoever was on the other end of the call. He wanted to ignore it because she was so close and everything within him was screaming for him to approach her.

But what if it were important? The rational side of him clashed against his instincts but when the phone rang again with another incoming call, Baldwin turned on his heel and headed away from the woman whose face he had yet to see but had enthralled him nonetheless. 

“What?” He barked into the device as he rounded the corner he originally came from, stepping back onto a busier street. He wanted to go further but something kept him there, unable to leave completely. 

“Hello to you too, Baldwin. Is this how you answer all your phone calls? Did I interrupt something important?” Matthew asked on the other side of the call.

Baldwin took a measured breath, trying to calm himself down. “What do you want, Matthew?”

“Always the charmer, brother. I’m calling to let you know that Alessandro has invited us to their home on Saturday. Maman is joining us.” 

He closed his eyes briefly, careful not to crush his phone in his hand. Ysabeau joining them wasn’t out of place but it surprised him that she was. Most of her days were spent at Sept-Tours or Les Revenants, spending time with the twins. Housecalls weren’t on her agenda nowadays. But he didn’t delve on it further, simply asked Matthew to send him the address and time before ending the call without saying goodbye.

He wanted to go back. The pull was there, festering at the edge of his control, taunting him with the promise of something that he had no name for. Despite the lack of control he had felt earlier, he wanted to experience it again. He wanted to see her face, see what kind of woman who had ensnared him without even trying. 

Baldwin knew he should head back to the office. Whatever had happened earlier, it was most likely a momentarily lapse in judgement. He didn’t even know what had occurred. It must have been some kind of magic. 

He looked back towards the alley and then turned back to look down the road, leading back to the office building. He needed an update on the Steiner situation and there was several calls to be made.

He took one step forward then he turned around and headed back towards the cobblestone street and let himself be drawn in by the intoxicating smell. He didn’t look back as he made his way towards the café.

She was still there, seated on the outdoor patio, her attention solely on the book she was reading, unaware of the storm raging inside him, causing havoc and wrecking everything Baldwin thought he was in control of. 

When he neared her, his senses picked up on the hum of her heartbeat, the blood rushing underneath her skin. He pulled himself back for a moment, urging the predator within to stay calm. This wasn’t a hunt. 

Baldwin allowed himself to breathe again, letting her scent fill him. 

As if she could feel him approaching, she turned slightly in her seat. The last part of Baldwin’s self control left him as their eyes met and once again, he could only think of one thing. 

Mine.

Hangman takes a moment to answer, as if he has to decide what to say. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m good, thanks.” She’d rather lie than tell him what’s really bothering her. There’s no reason for him to know. He wouldn’t even understand.

Unfortunately, Hangman sees right through her. “Could have fooled me.”

He pulls himself upright, matching her position. It’s odd seeing him look so vulnerable, smaller than he usually presents himself to be. 

When she doesn’t reply, he hesitantly continues, as if he’s afraid she’s going to run off if he pushes too far. “You can talk to me, you know. If something’s bothering you. You’d probably prefer Phoenix or Bob but I don’t see them running out here to check on you.”

She rolls her eyes at the last bit. Even when he’s trying to comfort her, he can’t help but take a shot at their teammates. It’s all in good nature nowadays, but it’s so predictably Hangman that it makes her smile. His concern is touching but she still keeps her guard up. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she pauses slightly before adding, “but thank you.” 

Hangman shifts, turning his body sideways so he is closer than before. “I think there is something to talk about, you just don’t want to.”

If getting on her nerves is his mission, he’s succeeding at an alarming rate. Gone is the gratefulness at his earlier offer. “And pray tell, Hangman, what would that be, hm?” She spits out, unsuccessful in keeping the annoyance out of her voice. She knows it isn’t fair to react this way, not when he’s been nothing but kind to her but anything to steer him away from the conversation she doesn’t want to happen.

Hangman holds his hands up, as if to placate her. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been avoiding me ever since Payback’s birthday? The fact that whenever we’re off base, you slink away to sit somewhere by yourself? Or maybe we should talk about how we kissed and you refuse to talk about it?”

Fuck.

The last part of his rant makes her tear her gaze from the water, swirling around in the sand to face him. They end up close, too close, but neither moves. “You remember that?”

It’s a weak response, she knows that but it’s the only thing she can come up with. 

The look in his eyes portrays disbelief. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you were drunk? And you didn’t talk to me for the whole day afterwards, so I figured it was just something.. -”

“I didn’t talk to you because when I woke up, you were gone. I wasn’t going to hunt you down over something you clearly regretted but I still think we should talk about it.”

She knows they need to address the whole situation but as he speaks, she can only focus on one thing. “You think I regret it?”

Now he’s the one refusing to meet her eyes. “What was I supposed to think? Like I said, you’ve been avoiding me ever since, so I figured you were just trying to let me down easy without having to say something, which is a shitty move by the way, even for you -”

“Let you down easy?” She’s full of bewilderment at this point and while she knows what he’s insinuating, she can’t make herself believe it. There is no possibility, she’d been telling herself for months. 

“Oh, spare me. You can’t honestly make me believe you don’t know. I think I’ve been very clear about my feelings for you.” Jake declares, a distinct look in his eyes as he straightens up. But the vulnerability on his face betrays his emotions, even if his voice stays strong. 

She feels like she’s falling, a wide black abyss consuming her entire being. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find herself in the situation. “You have feelings for me?”

She’s well aware that she should probably try to unearth more but she’s still not entirely sure she isn’t hallucinating. This can’t possibly be happening.

Jake laughs incredulity. “Are you telling me you actually don’t know?”

“Well, you never said anything!” She implores.

“I didn’t think I had to! It's pretty obvious.” He responds, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t just drop a major bomb on her.

She throws her arms out, almost whacking him in the face. “OBVIOUS? How about you use your words instead of just thinking I can read your mind? I had no idea!”

“Why would I kiss you, if I didn’t like you?”

She stares at him blankly, at a loss for words. Everything she had wanted since her stupid crush had manifested itself was happening but for some reason, she couldn’t respond in the proper way. How many times had she wished he would reprecipitate the feelings she had developed for him during their time together? How much had she beaten herself up over kissing him back at Payback’s birthday almost a month ago, knowing that he didn’t feel the same, knowing it was the alcohol? 

She’s vaguely aware that he’s speaking again but her mind is racing, as is her heart, and she blurts out the only thing she’s thinking about. “Would you please just kiss me? Again?”

“Excited to see your girl?” Javy clapped him on the shoulder as they waited in line. 

Excited was an understatement. For the first time in years, he had someone waiting for him. Someone who had missed him. Someone who loved him. 

Jake smiled, thinking about Skip. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait.” 

Javy smiled as well, infected by the good mood his friend was sporting. “I’m happy for you. Are we still on for Friday?” 

Charlotte, Javy’s longtime girlfriend had wanted them to get together before their leave started. They were set to have a four-week leave, so she and Javy were planning to visit his family in New Orleans. 

“Yeah. Skip said she took the rest of the week off so we can meet you guys whenever.” Jake wanted nothing more than to just stay at home with Skip but Charlotte insisted on dinner before she and Javy left. 

Somewhere ahead it was announced that they could finally get moving. Jake wasted no time in slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way towards the exit, Javy on his heels. 

The heat hit him as he headed down the walkway, the California sun beating down on them. Javy made a beeline for Charlotte the moment he saw her, telling Jake to call him later. There were bodies all around him as Jake swept the crowd for his girlfriend. It wasn’t easy in the sea of people and for a moment he worried. 

What if she wasn’t here? What if, during his time away, she had found someone better? Maybe she had gotten tired of waiting for him to come home? 

As his mind spiralled, Jake barely heard his name being called. His hand tightened around the strap of the bag as he tried to navigate away from all the people. He felt trapped and he pushed his way past a couple embracing, trying the leave the crowd. 

“Jake!” 

He looked up when he heard his name, heart pounding in his chest. Skip was standing away from the mass of people, a bouquet in her hand. Jake dropped his bag as she barrelled towards him, catching her as she threw her arms around him. 

Jake felt all the tension leave his body the moment she was back in his arms. He breathed her in, arms tightening around her. 

“I missed you so much,” Skip mumbled against his skin as she sniffled into his neck. 

“I missed you more, baby. Are you crying?” The thought that she was crying because he missed him was surreal. Jake never thought someone would. 

“No, I'm not crying. This is just my body getting rid of all the excess water.” She leaned back, smiling. 

He couldn’t help but laugh as he picked her up and spun her around. He cupped her face after putting her down, kissing her gently. More tears wet his cheeks and he leaned back, worry etched across his face. 

“Is this happy excess water or sad?” He joked, wiping away her tears. 

Skip laughed. “They’re happy, I promise. Oh, before I forget, these are for you.” She held out the flowers for him to take. 

Jake felt touched by the simple gesture. Nobody had ever given him flowers before and that fact that Skip had brought tears to his eyes. He cleared his throat to get rid of the emotions threatening to wash over him. 

“Thank you, darlin’. I’ve never gotten flowers before.” Jake tried to sound indifferent, like it wasn’t a big deal but Skip saw right through him. 

“That’s stupid. You deserve all the flowers, baby.” It warmed his heart and he pulled her in for another kiss, unable to say what he was feeling. Skip smiled against his lips, wrapping her arms around his waist. She always understood him, even when Jake barely knew what he needed.  

“Do you want to go home or wanna get something to eat first?” She asked when they broke apart. 

Jake wanted nothing more than to just go home and cuddle Skip on the couch. “Home, please.”

Skip refused to let him drive, pushing him towards the passenger door. 

Stepping through the door into their shared home brought a fuzzy warm feeling to his chest, feeling like he was finally home. 

“Okay, so how about you take a shower and I’ll order some food? We can watch a movie and just cuddle on the couch.” Skip rummaged through the kitchen drawer, probably looking for a takeout menu. 

“You’re too good for me,” Jake mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her, lips finding the back of her head. 

Skip turned in his embrace, a somewhat sad expression on her face. “No. You deserve good things. All I’m doing is exactly everything you deserve,” she paused, hands finding his shoulders, “now, go shower. You smell like a boat and fuel.” 

Knowing she meant business, Jake kissed her once before trudging up the stairs. Her words replayed in his head, over and over. His heart felt full from all the affection. 

The sight that greeted him when he came back downstairs filled his heart even more. Skip had pulled all the blinds down, lighting a lot of candles that were scattered around the room. Chinese takeout was on the coffee table and Skip had pulled out what looked like every blanket and spare pillow they owned onto the couch. 

They ate straight out of the cartons, legs tangled together. Jake thrived on the physical affection as Skip rubbed a foot up and down his calf. Even something so simple told him how much he had missed it for a larger part of his life. 

They barely paid any attention to the movie, content to just be in each other's company again. 

As the end credits rolled down the screen, Skip was snoring quietly, her head pillowed on his chest. Jake took a moment to just take everything in, how it felt to finally be home again. As Skip shifted in his arms, burrowing closer, Jake decided there was nothing better. 

He didn’t want to wake his girl but he also knew what a night on the couch would do to his back. So he only felt a little guilty as he gently shook her. “Baby? We should go to bed.” He whispered, stroking her hair gently.

“No.” Skip mumbled, face hidden in his chest.

Jake chuckled. “But the bed is so much more comfortable than the couch.”

Skip shook her head, inching closer to him. “No.”

Deciding that he could face her wrath in the morning, Jake untangled himself from Skip, ignoring her squeak of protest, stretching his arms above his head before bending down and picking her up. “Let’s go to bed honey. You’ll sleep better there.”

Despite the short walk to the bedroom, Skip fell asleep again. Jake gently pulled the covers over her before going back to the living room to put out all the candles and turn the TV off. When he got back to the bedroom, Jake turned off the lights before crawling under the covers. He was about to reach for Skip when he got hit with the overwhelming feeling that he needed to be in her arms.

As if Skip could read his mind, she reached for him under the covers, pulling on his hand to tug him closer. “C’mere.”

Jake let himself be manhandled until he was resting his head on her chest, Skip’s hand in his hair, scratching his scalp gently. He pressed his nose to her pulse point, breathing her in. It felt very intimate and Jake felt himself relax fully as she continued her mistrations. 

“Thank you.” He whispered softly, eyes falling shut as he melted into her embrace, enjoying the way her skin felt against his. 

Jake took a shaky breath, trying to contain the emotions simmering underneath the surface. For the first time in 10 months, since he left Skip standing on the dock waving goodbye, Jake felt at peace. 

Skip pressed her lips to his forehead, humming softly. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

Jake couldn’t find the right words, so he simply grabbed her free hand and intertwined their fingers, trying to convey his feelings through physical touch. As always, she understood exactly what he meant, chuckling softly. 

“I love you.” He whispered against her skin and felt his heart flutter when she echoed his sentiment. 

As they laid there, Jake thought about how he finally got the homecoming he always wished for.