#lestericalphan

a - age: 18

b - biggest fear: clowns, darkness and spiders omfg stay away

c - current time: 23.05 

d - drink you last had: coca cola cherry

e - every day starts with: laying around in bed trying not to cry

f - favorite song: atm I don’t have one

g - ghosts, are they real: no

h - hometown: Berga, Germany

i - in love with: Andrew Scott

j - jealous of: friends who are lucky enough to be in a relationship sigh

k - killed someone: no

l - last time you cried: I was watching a movie at the cinema

m - middle name: don’t have one

n - number of siblings: one older brother

o - one wish: meeting Andrew Scott

p - person you last called/texted: @alien--boy

q - questions you’re always asked: idk

r - reasons to smile: Andrew Scott my smol bab

s - song last sang: wake me up before you go go (I know it’s cringey)

t - time you woke up: 11.30 am

u - underwear color: blue

v - vacation destination: London pls

w - worst habit(s): eating past midnight sigh

x - x-rays you’ve had: of my arm and head

y - your favorite food: pasta

z - zodiac sign: aquarius

Truly, in those couple of weeks Dan’s best friend was himself. Needle and Thread, he deserved a bit of self care time anyway. Most days he would climb the tallest tower, Raven Rest, and look out towards the East, towards the Purple Coast whose plum outline was a haze across the horizon. The whole world seemed gorgeous from the top of the tower, red or blue of the suns’ light dyeing the courtyard and city beyond the walls.

Word must have gotten round that he was in a mood, for as soon as Phil heard, he came to find Dan sitting in his usual spot, his legs crossed as he looked over the parapet.

“You shouldn’t sit so close to the edge, not when there isn’t much of a balcony,” Phil softly whispered as he sat down beside Dan, no doubt afraid his voice would make him jump.

“You shouldn’t sneak up like that then,” Dan smiled as he shuffled to the side so Phil could join him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Needle had just started its slow descent towards the skyline, throwing a deeper radiance across the whole of the East Crest.

“Yeah. The world seems to slow when the Gods disappear.” Phil sighed, his gaze fixed on the skyline. It seemed forever before Dan finally got up the courage to ask the fateful question.

“How’s Dodie?”

“She’s fine. Lyra?” Phil drawled, meeting Dan’s unflinching eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was so into fashion?”

“Needle and Thread, I try at all costs not to listen to her whenever she witters on about it,” Phil chuckled softly.

“What about Dodie. Does she have any passion for fashion?” Dan scoffed, the idea of Phil being dragged around some dress shop himself making him giggle.

“Only what's in down in the South. She’s very quiet for the most part, but very talented. She knows how to play at least ten instruments and makes some beautiful needlework.” He paused for a moment. “But I didn’t come here to talk about Dodie.”

“What did you come here to discuss then?” Dan inquired, tensing up slightly.  

“Well, I need to visit the Purple Coast in the next couple of days, what with me ruling it and all. And I have been away for sometime… I trust my men with dealing with the work, but-”

“-Just cut to the point,” Dan interrupted.

“Would you like to come with me?” Phil finally asked, looking Dan dead in the eyes.

“What, to the Purple Coast?”

“I had asked Dodie, but she’s hotly awaiting the arrival of some letter from her sister and is refusing to budge. She’s a twin, you know,” Phil rambled, losing track of his original point.

“So I’m your second choice.”

“First at heart. But I had to invite her first as courtesy to my engagement.” He added after a thoughtful silence, “We could invite Lyra along if that would please yo-”

“No!” Dan yelled a little too loudly. “I mean, she wouldn’t want to do anymore traveling, I am sure.”

“Then it’s settled. You and I will set off for a week at the Purple Coast tomorrow.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Early next morning, after an incredibly short dusk, Dan and Phil, and a few soldiers, left the city and set off at a quick pace down the Seaworthing Road towards Phil’s northern castle, named Dunstanborough. Thanks to the grueling pace Phil had set, the group reached Dunstanborough’s Gates a few hours after midday. Dan had to admit he had been half asleep for most of the journey, focused on staying on his horse’s back, but when they arrived at the Castle, trumpets blaring, he finally looked down towards the glistening beach.

The sand seemed to glimmer back at him, the swirls of magenta, gold and lilac-yellows shimmering as the sea washed over them. He had read that due to the coral and minerals around the area, the beach had become increasingly coloured. However, the locals apparently preferred to think that it was caused by Dragon fire baking the sand a million years ago.

Phil must have spotted Dan staring out towards the sea because he instantly said, “We can go down for a walk as soon as we are done unpacking, if you want?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s too late to deal with all this admin stuff today anyway. I’ll just make a few necessary calls around the castle and meet you by your room.”

“I’d love to go for a walk.” Dan beamed, sitting up as Dunstanborough’s gates opened.  

“Great. I suggest you go get changed then. You smell like horse shit.” Phil winked before riding off ahead to meet the lines of guards waiting for him.

“Hey!” Dan called after Phil, chuckling, before galloping to catch up.

Sure enough, Phil knocked on Dan’s door a few minutes after he was done getting changed. Dan only had to open up the door a little before he was laughing.

“What in Needle are those?” Dan sniggered, looking at Phil who was casually leaning against the door in the most flamboyant baggy shorts Dan had ever seen.

“These are traditional East Crest robes, I’ll have you know,” Phil explained, giving a little twirl that caused his pants to jiggle.

“You look utterly ridiculous.”

“Says you!” Phil protested as they set off down the corridor.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” Dan asked, looking down at his traditional nobleman’s clothes, a completely normal fashion choice.

“You make me look crazy with all your fancy clothes. Although, you’ve got such a squishy nose,” Phil giggled, poking Dan on the nose.

“Hey, don’t squish my nose,” Dan blushed, swatting Phil’s hand away.

“Try and stop me,” Phil shouted, running down the corridor  without caring who saw him. So Dan did the only thing he could do.

The chase lasted all the way to the beach, the small guard Phil had brought with him quickly marching behind them while trying to look respectable. Phil, who was already barefooted, sprinted onto the sand with ease while Dan stripped off his own shoes before finally catching up with him.

“Bet you want to take off that leather coat now, don’t you?” Phil smirked as they fell into step, and Dan took his coat off a second later.

He was no doubt red in the face now, the warm sand between his toes and the scorching gaze of Needle not helping. But there was a sharp, cool breeze from the north, and the sea washing around their feet was much more temperate.

Phil waded directly into the sea for most of the walk, saying that it cleared your head, so Dan of course had no choice but to join him. Dan would have thought it would be uncomfortable. but once his legs became used to the water, it felt like he was almost walking on air or floating, with the sea gently lapping around his thighs.

To their right, people from the nearby villages worked on the sand, fixing netting or weaving new nets. The children ran about the sand searching for odd trinkets while the men at a distance dragged fine nets over and through the sand.

“What are they doing?” Dan eventually asked, pointing them out to Phil.

“Who?”

“Those fishermen over there.”

“They’re not fishermen, you idiot. They are collecting mermaid charms,” Phil explained, not even batting an eyelash.

“Now your talk matches your clothes,” Dan snickered.

“Mermaid charms are a type of seashell, you idiot,” Phil sighed, pausing to look into the shallow water before plucking a cream-coloured shell from the waves. “Here.”

“Well what do they use them for?” Dan implored, turning the shell over in his fingers

“They crush them to make extravagant and lucky sword hilts.” Phil remarked, pointing to something inside the shell. “Look here, see the way it almost has a rainbow trapped inside.”

Sure enough, hidden inside was a reflective rainbow that only appeared when the sun touched it, sending back in return a spectacular display of colour. No wonder people found them lucky.

“What other marvels could your beach possibly hold?” Dan joked as they continued, shoving the shell in his pocket.

“Dragon teeth good enough for you?” Phil bubbled, running back to the shore and pulling out a small green and white object he must have spotted.

“Now you’re just encouraging the local’s tales,” Dan sighed, wading in to join Phil.

“Maybe, but in tales of old, Dragons are meant to have intricate patterns etched into their bones. That there is just a worn down fragment of a tooth,” Phil proudly claimed, handing over to Dan the tooth-shaped object.

“More like a bit of pottery,” Dan reasoned before looking up to see Phil on his knees in the sand, “What are you doing now?”

“Looking for a sun stone. Have a go. If you find a red one, you're more like Needle, and if you find a blue one,” Phil gasped, pulling a blue, small stone out of the ground, “you’re more like Thread.”

It took Dan a minute to find one, but when he pulled out a small, red stone, Phil almost knowingly confessed, “Just like I thought. Needle through and through.”

“You and your East Crest traditions,” Dan jested, pocketing the two odd trinkets before they continued.

“Come on, we’re nearly there,” Phil chided as he scampered ahead.

“Where are we going?” Dan moaned as he tried to keep up.

“To my favourite place. Mark, you can just wait here. We won’t go far,” Phil shouted, calling back to one of the guards before running off towards a big rock planted in the middle of the beach.

“What is that?”

“The Crab Rocks,” Phil smiled back as he started taking careful leaps from rock to rock as they neared the main structure.

“Please don’t tell me there are crabs in there…” Dan fretted as he carefully stepped onto the first rock, nearly falling off instantly. It was slippy. “What’s going on, Phil?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to show you something. Didn’t want them to see my secret cave now did I?”

“Please don’t tell me that’s a euphemism or something,” Dan said before promptly slipping off another rock.

“No, there is a literal cave round here. Well, it disappears at high tide, but since it’s low tide,” Phil explained, leading Dan around the base rock, “it should still be here.”

Phil scrambled through the small entrance first before Dan followed, his eyes taking a moment to adjust before he could really see anything. Once they had, though, he could see everything. Little clumps of green seaweed cascaded down the walls like banners while many small stalactites formed gorgeous structures like mini chandeliers hung from the ceiling. And although the entrance had been small, many smaller holes in the wall allowed red light to pierce through the darkness.

“It’s beautiful,” Dan murmured, too dumbfounded to really speak as he turned around on the spot, his feet kicking up little dust clouds about him.

“No one can see us here from the beach,” Phil whispered, turning to look Dan now directly in the eye, gaze unwavering.

“Really?” Dan hardly muttered. He knew what was coming, but that didn’t ruin the surprise of Phil Gallaway’s lips pressed against his own, Phil’s hands gently cupping his face. Slightly cracked lips collided, and the world slipped away, if only for a second, before it came crashing back as Phil pulled away gently.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” was all Dan could say, a soft smile on his lips.

“Too long,” and the world stopped again and again and again, Phil peppering his mouth with long-awaited kisses.

“Same,” Dan breathed as he joined in, embracing Phil while returning those same kisses.

“How did you know?” Dan uttered as Phil ran his hands through Dan’s hair.

“You ask too many questions, Dan,” Phil chuckled, placing a kiss on Dan’s forehead. It quickly turned, however, as Phil started unbuttoning his own shirt before placing his hands on Dan’s shirt. “If you want…” Dan only had to quickly nod before Phil literally ripped the buttons off his shirt.

“I never thought I’d ever literally be having sex on the beach,” Dan remarked, giggling slightly as Phil unbuttoned his own pants.

“Shhh, just enjoy the moment,” Phil whispered, placing another kiss on Dan’s mouth. The world stopped for them then, the sounds of the ocean slipping away into silence. Time never stopped, though. Their hearts kept pumping, and Needle kept setting as Thread peeked over the skyline. Blue and red blending for just a moment to make a breathtaking magenta sky.

AN: AGH! IT’S DONE! Time for the thanks you and what nots.

A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO SARA from @transdimensional-void who without I would have never have finished this fic! She is a literal star (and also a great writer in her own regards, you should check her out)

Also, thank you to @galaxyhowells who made the most beautiful bit of phan art for the fic (CHECK IT OUT HERE!)

A big thanks to the whole @phandombigbang community!

And finally, thank you for reading this! If you have any questions about the series hit up my ask box.  

If you really enjoyed it please consider nominating it for the @phanficawards here as I spent half a year writing this and it would mean the world to me. 

Also because this is a series the wolves of the world series WILL RETURN (probably next year)! 

If you want to see a map of Miloria or the Riverlands click away.

Again click here for the AMAZING artwork by @galaxyhowells

Got confused by who was who? We have a character list to help you out!

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In panic, she had sent a legion of Soldiers after them, but still no news came. So every morning she had walked about the garden, unseen and unheard by anyone. She waded out, no matter the weather, towards the highest point of the grounds overlooking the surrounding city and distant fields to sit by the frozen fountain and wait. And when she saw no sign of them, she was not ashamed to admit that she would let loose a few tears.

The fountain itself was not frozen; in fact, it wouldn’t be uncommon to find a swan or some other bird resting somewhere across its vast surface. Today, though, it was flat and still, as if the ice had finally frozen over its smooth surface. The world seemed to be holding its breath as she sat down by the water’s edge, the sprawling toy box town below waiting to begin another game.

She wished Jack was here to see it. She wished Darcy was safely tucked away. Needle and Thread, if anything had happened to them… then she might as well plunge herself into the cold, dark water so close to her and never return. So like every morning for the past month, she let the tears snowball down her cheeks, her hands automatically going to cover them.

But the morning was shattered suddenly when a howling screech erupted as if from nowhere and yet everywhere. It was them, surely -- murderers or bandits coming to kill her too, those who had taken Jack and Darcy. Louise bolted up, stumbling in the snow, with her eyes still tight shut, putting her wet hands between her and whoever it was, screaming back just as loudly at them. However the only answer she got in return was the loud crack of ice and silence.

When Louise next peeled her eyes slowly open, she just caught in the corner of her eye the fleeing fox disappearing into the bushes. However, that was significantly less important to her than the massive ice sculpture that had not only encapsulated the bush where the fox must have been but which stretched across the whole fountain, tracing back to her fingertips. The world had frozen again, but this time it was forced.

It was unlike anything Louise had seen before, the ice having frozen in beautiful, arching bubbles. Water had solidified mid-drip off of imaginary branches and fountain spouts to create a deadly sharp but glorious piece of art. The whole thing was decorated with icicles, frozen water droplets and a fine layer of swirling frost. Where the fox had been were the most deadly icicles, and all of this flowed right back to her palms. They actually still had frozen tears turned solid stuck on them, little patches of frost caught around her palm and fingertips. And all Louise could think was, How did something so beautiful come from me?

She didn’t think about the fact it was impossible, that she was probably crazy, or that this was scary. She just stood in awe, forgetting everything else. Her past was irrelevant, and her predicaments were fleeting. If she had that in her… then what else could she create that was so breathtaking? It was already melting away back into water in the fountain, but the image was imprinted on her mind. So she walked back to the castle, her lips sealed, as her kingdom began to wake around her.

Back in the warmth of her bedroom, Louise brushed away the frost from her hands, watching it melt away as she rubbed her hands before the fire. The frost may have gone, but her heart was still frozen, hard and beating with a new sort of adrenaline. Before long, Louise’s maids burst in and scurried about getting her ready for breakfast, the gown she chose being her own personal favourite puff sleeve violet dress. Neither one of them sensed the change, but Louise did, especially when she pinned her badge to her chest, the gleaming family emblem of her forefathers proudly sitting there.

Breakfast was waiting, but just as she was about to leave her room with her maids, a sharp rapping came at the door. Louise tipped her head slightly, and one of her maids swiftly opened the door to reveal a very stressed-looking messenger, one of those belonging to her cousin Thomas, judging by the traditional Snofrid colours he wore.

“Your Majesty,” he exclaimed in a breathy voice, bowing low, “I am afraid I must beg of you a moment alone. I come bearing news from the Nackati Path.” Louise didn’t even need to nod her head before her maids had disappeared. So instead she stood ready to receive this news, whatever it may be. She would not cry.

“Please, tell me your news,” she requested in a calm, slightly deeper voice that sounded like it was full of heavy snow.

“I pray you sit, for what I bring is not news you will wish to hear.” The man fretted as Louise slowly perched on the end of her bed. “It is not news of the Princess or Lord Farrowhead’s location I am afraid, if that was what you were expecting.”

“Then what has happened?”

“Lady Sallow has set up a bounty for the capture of your daughter and anyone else of your court,” the man finally confessed, looking at Louise for a reaction, no doubt expecting the worst.

“Is this from a reliable source?” Louise slowly asked.

“It is practically common knowledge down south of Izabalia. It has only recently come North,” the man explained, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket.  

“I do not need a tissue, sir,” Louise harshly snapped, staring the man down until he put it back into his pocket.

“Would you like to be left alone for a bit?” he asked nervously.

“Of course not. Call the council together. It’s time to plan,” Louise stated, standing and making her way towards the door.

“For what?” the messenger asked, totally confused.

“War. The Sallows have pushed the boundaries too far this time. It’s time for me to become a true Queen and earn my title -- by dealing with this issue once and for all. Tell my cousin to call the council together,” Louise confessed, her voice low and quiet. “Besides, Hazel only understands violence. So let's finally answer her.”  

AN: Strong independent Louise?! Hella yes. 

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The only good thing about his situation was that he got to see Darcy every now and again, who was still perfectly healthy. Part of Wilson's preposterous plan was for Darcy to earn her and Jack’s keep by performing in the circus every chance they got. Almost every time Jack saw her was just before she went on stage, and Darcy was quite happy to tell him all about her act.

She was their human puppet act, “a doll so realistic she actually looks human,” they claimed. They dressed her in a small, puffy blue dress, did her makeup to make her skin look like porcelain and added a wig to complete her look before they tied her up with strings and sent her on stage.

“I just go wherever the strings lead me and look pretty,” Darcy would explain, plastering on the same morbidly happy smile she would have to hold throughout the show. “It’s a bit hard, in a way,” she would say, glancing back towards the door to make sure nobody was listening.  

Darcy never said, but Jack knew what would happen if they did hear. On more than one occasion he had been able to spot the bruises hidden under her makeup, and he had sometimes been able to hear her dainty little screams after her performances were over. But she went on like a little trooper, smiling and being that little girl she was inside, at least around Jack.

She once remarked after what must have been a few weeks traveling that she was starting to like Jack’s little beard he had unintentionally started growing, giving it a little rub with her fingers before giggling.

By her final performance, though, she was too tired to even really talk, choosing instead to sleep next to Jack, cuddling him. It had been clever of them, Jack had to admit, to keep Jack in chains while Darcy worked for them. She could not survive running away without Jack, and in the state they both were in, running away seemed all the more impossible. Jack hadn’t seen a good meal for a long time, and sleep was difficult, if not unthinkable.

Despite it all, he was still contemplating an escape route for her, which was hard considering he had never really been outside the caravan. They were swiftly running out of time and couldn’t be far from the Mark now, a day or two at best. Yet Jack fell into a daze before Darcy left, not even getting a chance to say goodbye to her for what might be the last time. The circus music was drifting in and about his ears, its plonky tunes penetrating his mind. Lights whirled around his mind so vividly, Jack could actually imagine he was there, watching Darcy dance her swan song -- that sad, small expression glued on her face as her limbs jerked about for the jeering crowds. It was pitifully beautiful. Louise would kill him if he didn’t die or kill himself first. He had failed after all. What else was waiting for him outside this caravan but torture and pain?

It was then the music suddenly stopped as the world was plunged into chaos, screams and fighting echoing from the tent just outside. He wasn’t dreaming anymore, though; he could hear the fighting.

It became blurry after that, Jack’s memory having been set ablaze. There was a strong smell of smoke, and loud steps thundered about him, but they didn’t really register. A light! Was that a light? Finally, something warm -- a fire flickering its own little dance near Jack’s feet, taunting him almost.

Needle and Thread, death was finally here to claim him.

The pleasant warmth quickly filled the caravan, his chains glowing against his skin. It had certainly been awhile since he had been this warm. He didn’t even care that his skin was starting to feel like it was boiling.

Then the coughing started as the flames grew higher, his eyes streaming so he could barely see anything. He didn’t have the energy to struggle. Just make it quick. He deserved death, so he let his lungs claw his insides for some oxygen. As if he hadn’t been dizzy enough before, now the world spun like mad. The screams outside had been lulled to a background noise by the roaring replacing them. But then a faint, heavenly voice pierced above it all.

“He’s in there! Jack’s in there!”

Darcy. Darcy was safe at least. The door burst open at some point, actual daylight flooding in. He must have looked a sorry sight. But the man who was at the door was not Wilson, Darcy or any of the other members of the circus. Jack only had a chance to see an Izabalia insignia before he plunged into darkness.

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