#hen1chaer

As did you and all the amazing characters I've had the pleasure of writing with <3 I'm admiring you & your ability to write masterpieces that are both heart wrenching and heartwarming. ( see tink, this is how you send positivity to someone you bitch )

@hen1chaer sent from 1989 (from the vault)

i'll pay the price, you won't.

It would have made a fine sentiment, really, were it not foolish in its entirety ― or, at the very least, it is in the Prince's mind. ❛ I do not mind paying my end of the bargain. In fact, I rather encourage it. ❜ It is not something of significant importance; it never is with the solitary Folk.

They are much simpler creatures than the Fae inhabiting the Seelie and Unseelie courts in Elfhame, often demanding either gold coins, one's most beautiful dream, or something as mundane as clothes and silk ― or, in Cardan's case, the royal circlet he wears on his person since he fled from Faerieland. Reaching to undo the clasp from beneath a sea of raven-dark locks, slender digits slide the golden jewellery across the wooden bench into the eager hands of the goat-faced Phooka, who holds it up above his head to admire the way the moonlight shines through the amethyst connecting the two branch-like gold sides. Deeming it the best time to take his purchase and leave, the Prince slides the priced box into his leather bag and, linking his arm with Emerson's, he guides her further into the Faerie market where the music and laughter chimes, towards benches that hold silver daggers and swords, dresses and tunic made of spider silk that shine like tiny little diamonds, and perfumes with scents of the first days of spring.

She  could  answer  her  question  better,  she  knows  this,  Meggie  is  but  a  child  and  doesn't  quite  understand  things  the  way  she  would  come  to,  but  still  she  finds  herself  filled  with  impatience  "  Where  do  you  get  such  nonsense  from?  "

she still doesn't trust ben kylo, ren, whatever he calls himself more than she could throw him. mom and dad might. little ani doesn't even remember him and looks at him in awe, a novelty, and even more upsetting is that allana has the same look in her eyes when she discovered she has another uncle. it isn't like jaina and the general, or mom, deliberately hid ben-or-kylo-or-him or his existence, but the story is the same they say about jacen: he's lost. now he's found, apparently; the prodigal son returns. she surveys him with a discerning eye as she leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, and blatantly ignores her mother's pleading brown eyes to be nice as if she's seven and she's upset that her big brother took the last sweetmallow. poe is her big brother. poe has been her big brother for the past seven years, more so, with his goofy grins and ability to bring a smile to that broody face of hers. most of all, he didn't leave; he stayed and protected her, stood up for her, while her other two ... one is dead; the other is skulking about the falcon as if nothing changed. father not daddy. or dad. mother might forgive him because he's the love of her life, and little ani doesn't know him well enough to be angry, but she remembers. gives her a wide berth outside, showing ani and allana how to do repairs on the ship, and when her mother leaves does she peer at him from where she leans. she wishes poe was here, but he has his own things to work through. ❛❛ you look better with a mask.  ❜❜

THE CONTEMPT IN THE AIR IS THICK, AS IT HAS BEEN since he first stepped off the Falcon after the events of Starkiller Base. hers is the strongest of them all --- whether that be because she hates him that much, or their inescapable connection, he wasn't sure --- and sits like an over-fed bantha between them. perhaps, no doubt, the only thing preserving the peace is the General in the room with them. this was her idea, Kylo was certain. neither he nor Jaina would've come together willingly, for their own reasons.

Jacen's death had affected him similarly, more than he'd expected, more than his mentor had been pleased with. it'd cut him from across countless stars, the death of the one person who might've understood him, who might've stood with him. who wouldn't have abandoned him. Kylo was sure he'd hear it from their mother if she knew, but a large part of him placed the blame on her. on all of them, really. on Solo, who was never there for either of them. the General, Jaina. Anakin was too small to bear the blame, but the boy wouldn't understand. neither would the girl.

it felt like he was brought into a stranger's house, and the doubt of whether what he was doing was right or not crept back up. they all shared the faces of people that once cared, but too much had happened, too much time. they were impossible to ignore, Solo and the General trying to reason with him and the children following him with their eyes everywhere he went. Kylo wasn't sure what to do about them, the brother who barely remembered him and the niece he never knew he had. Jaina was the only one he hadn't needed to worry about, until now. when the General left to no doubt try to force something between them.