A vintage's touch: Michael's obsession

 // A little moment between Polly and Mary. 

xxxxx

Polly lit a cigarette. She wasn't feeling comfortable in front of Mary and didn't know how to start the conversation. She was the one who went to visit the Grace Shelby institute, in hopes of sharing a moment with the young woman but upon walking into Mary's office, strength suddenly left her legs. She was worried about her son's obsession with Mary and wanted to discuss the infamous rivalry between Tommy and Michael. It wasn't too late to look forward to a truce between the two men. it wasn't late, was it? The Gypsy princess took a deep breath and walked towards the window of Mary's office. Polly was waiting for her to return from a meeting with the head nurse of the Institute and had been smoking cigarette after cigarette until the young woman came back.  She closed both eyes and leaned her head against the window when the noise of a door being opened forced her to turn around and look at Mary. 

"You're finally here!"

"I apologize for my lateness. We had to review adoption papers for a couple of our children. I'm here now, Polly." -Her green eyes set upon the woman who fully turned around and pinched the bridge of her nose- "Polls... Have a seat, you look pale."

"I'm alright. I'm alright, Mary." -Polly said, her blue eyes set upon the young woman. She was pale indeed. Pale and stressed out but she still wanted to keep a cool demeanor and pretend that she had everything under control. She inhaled some smoke and puffed it out. The endearing nickname the young woman gave her a faint smile "Mary, I'm going to ask you something, I need you to be honest with me."

Mary didn't really believe Polly. She knew the woman enough to realize that something was up. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but since the business was going well, the only reason that could put Polly in such a panicked mood was her son. Did something happen to Michael? Did someone kill the man? Was he in danger? Questions started to fill her mind as Mary walked closer to Mary and gently wrapped her arms around the older woman to give her a hug. Polly closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around the chubby young woman. 

"I will.  Ask me anything you want." -She said, tucking some hair behind her ear-

Polly pinched her lips together and averted her blue eyes from Mary's face to her soft smile. She sat on the chair and slowly fidgeted with her cigarette. The nurse had never seen the woman be so nervous. She could see that Polly was trying to find the right words to say but she couldn't, so Mary put her hand on the older woman's knee and gave her an encouraging smile. Polly nodded and took a deep breath before she finally asked. 

"Michael....Do you still hear from him?"

"I haven't heard from him for months now, Polls. Why are you asking? Did something happen?"

"No... No... Michael is alive." -She pinched her lips together and inhaled some smoke.- "I just wanted to be sure that he wasn't writing to you. He tends to be.... stubborn." -She chose her words carefully, not willing to start an argument with Mary. The young woman remained silent for a minute. She looked at Polly and furrowed her brows at the mention of Michael's letters.-

"Stubborn...Yes." -She crossed her legs and slowly started to tap onto her knee.- "He hasn't written to me for months. Besides, if he really did, Tommy would know, wouldn't he?" 

Polly nodded, Tommy would have known. He knew everything from the conversations people had in Birmingham to the content of letters people sent or received. He knew everything. He even knew that Mary had not written back to Michael. Polly knew that her son was still writing to Mary, but she also knew that Tommy being silent about it wasn't exactly good news. The Gypsy princess wanted her son to survive, but she also didn't want Tommy to die. She was put in a very tight spot, which led her to shake uncontrollably. 

"I just want-- I just need Michael to move on, you know? I've talked to him already, and I've advised him to stop writing to you."

"And did he listen? uh? He didn't. He never does, Polls." -Mary's tongue was harsh, she furrowed her brows and closed her legs. -" Let's not beat around the bush shall we? You and I both know Michael used to be infatuated with me, years ago."

"Mary... there's..." -But Mary shook her forefinger and tilted her head to the side. Her face had lost its warmth and she was tense. Mary's face was closed off, cold, and focused. She had been avoiding the topic for far too long now.-

"No, we have to talk about it Polls! I... I used to be something he wanted to have. He came at me and tried to win me over but it didn't work. I expected the letters to stop coming once he met Gina but they didn't. He kept writing to me and I didn't know why. I thought he was obsessed with me, but soon enough, I realized that he didn't... I realized that it wasn't me he was obsessed with, it was Tommy." -She furrowed her brows and set her bright green gaze upon the older woman- "He is obsessed with Tommy. This is the truth, the only truth."

"He.... oh my god! Mary, I can't sleep. I was afraid that Michael would eventually try to reach out to you in order to get back at Tommy." -She sighed and took another puff of her cigarette.- "I didn't know how you'd feel about it. Tommy and Michael are at.... odds with each other." -She chose her words carefully, unwilling to talk about what she saw in her dreams and in the cards. Mary wasn't aware of her vision, but she knew that the two men weren't on good terms.-

"Polls... listen...I only wrote to Michael once, right after he settled in America. I wished him well, and good luck with his endeavors there. Since then, I didn't write to Michael because I knew what that could become.  He knows I'm living with Tommy. He's warned me more than once about Tom's unavailability. He told me that I would be unhappy around Tommy because he would never let me in.  Still, I didn't write back to him." -She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.- "He's not right, though. Tommy isn't....He won't let me in. No matter what I do, he won't let me in."

Polly sighed and as she blew her smoke away, the brunette felt her body relax a little bit. Mary, even now as they were discussing her relationship with Tommy, still believed that he had no feelings for her. Polly had already tried to convince the young woman of Tommy's affection, but it didn't go through her thick skull. Could she blame the girl? Could she really blame Mary for doubting her? Tommy loved Mary, Polly could tell, but there was something stopping each other from making the first move and confessing their feelings to the other. Perhaps, given the particular situation they were in, Polly was relieved that Tommy wasn't open about his feelings. She stared at the young woman, fidgeting with her cigarette as wild thoughts crossed her mind. 

She'd need to talk to her son, to make sure that he would definitely move on from Mary. She'd advise him to stop writing to her, for his own protection but also for hers. She'd try to make sure that Tommy and Mary, since they're stubbobrn and unwilling to give into the other, would not become an item. It hurt her because she wanted Mary to be happy and to finally embrace her new life with Tommy but she needed her son to be alive, so.... so....she simply looked at her and put her fingers on her chin and lips. Polly decided not to reply to her, mostly because the conversation would become moot, instead, she resumed smoking. 

-TBC-

Vintage touch: Secret Desires

Vintage touch: Secret Desires

// Conversation between Polly and Mary that doesn't resolve around Tommy. However, Polly has several questions regarding Mary, her desires, the type of life she wants to lead, motherhood, and perhaps also the way society would look at her (and Tommy). 

xxxxx

Polly visited Mary early today. She needed to spend some time with the young woman and see if she needed some help with the Grace Shelby Institute. Mary enjoyed her work as the Head Nun and spent a lot of time ensuring the children (and also the staff) had everything they needed. She made sure to remember the names of the children and to help the nuns prepare for special events -such as museums visits or any other cultural activities, or preparing birthday parties so the children could feel special on that day and associate good memories rather than the fact they were abandoned by their parents the day they were born-. She loved her new job and even took the time to sing to the orphans when she was done with administrative duties. It was good to see and Polly enjoyed sharing a meal with her. Usually, it was Mary who left the orphanage, so she could take a walk and spend lunch at Tommy's office but from time to time, Polly liked to be the one to leave the office and visit the orphanage. Today was such a day. 

As a matter of fact, it also was an excuse she found because she wanted to ask Mary questions about her future. It was obvious to the cunning Polly that something had happened between Tommy and Mary. They had sex! It was obvious given the way they behaved around one another. It was obvious to Polly that they had crossed the line and given into each other and it was obvious that it was the reason that led Lizzie to lose her mind and slap Mary a couple days ago. Polly didn't mention the slap to Mary, mostly because she didn't want to embarrass her and didn't think it was the right moment to bring that up. However, she was seething with anger towards Lizzie for hitting Mary, out of spite and jealousy. It was obvious that Lizzie had realized that she would never get rid of the woman because Tommy got her under his skin. Tommy chose her for reasons that were out of reach for the Stark woman, but it was the reality of the situation. Tommy chose Mary and nobody could or should try to hurt her unless they wanted Tommy to tear a new hole into their bodies. 

"I've got a question for you, Mary." -She lifted a brow as Mary looked up at her. "Several... questions."

"It's lunch. I have time. Go ahead, Polls...What is it that you want to know?"

"Have you ever tried to find your birth mother?" -The question made the young woman blink and she leaned into her seat. Her birth mother? The woman who had left her in the orphanage? Why would she try to find her? what would she tell her 30 years later? Her eyes grew wide and she moistened her lips. Her throat was too dry to speak, so Mary shook her head- "No? not even once?"

"I-- Have wondered for years why she left me behind. The nurses told me the truth. She was a rich white girl who got pregnant by a black man. I was a disgrace. It was a shameful act to hide. Once I was old enough to really understand what those words meant, I stopped trying to look out for her. She left me, not because she was too young to be with a child, or because she wasn't married when she got pregnant. It was because of my blood. My father's blood." -She took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling.- "You are my mom, Polls...the closest I would ever have... I don't want to know who the woman who gave me birth is! I don't give a fuck about her. I give a fuck about you." -Her voice broke at this instant as emotions overwhelmed her.-

Polly listened to her, her blue eyes slowly wet from the tears she refused to share. It was heartbreaking, to see Mary so vulnerable, yet so honest with her. She had every right to not want to know who her birth mother was and Polly would have been fine with this answer if the existence of that woman wouldn't become a problem down the road. Tommy researched Mary's past and was unknown to her, he also had her followed by Peaky boys, so she wouldn't get kidnapped or hurt by anyone when he wasn't around. He knew Mary wouldn't like that protection, because she would feel trapped, but he didn't want to take any chance of her being hurt because she was seeing him. 

Tommy searched Mary's past and was able to discover the truth about her birth. He had everything in a file and shared some of the information he gathered with Polly. She would have kept her mouth shut if concerning news hadn't come. A couple of weeks ago, the Peaky boys who protected Mary found two suspicious men who had been following Mary. After a beat-up, the men revealed that they didn't want to hurt Mary but wanted to know what her life was on behalf of her mother. After some rough interrogation, it became clear that Mary's biological mother sent them after her to locate Mary and investigate her to report on their employer. The Peaky summoned Arthur who requested the men to be locked in a warehouse and fetch Tommy so he could decide what to do with these people. 

Once it was established that they weren't dangerous and were indeed just detectives, Tommy decided to give them an ultimatum: Either they cooperated and do everything Tommy ordered them to do, or they die for defiance. They chose to cooperate and revealed that Mary's mother was trying to gather as much information as she could on Mary, so she could avoid a scandal. She came from a prestigious family and because she was set up to marry for the second time-a prominent political figure, an MP sharing the meeting room with Tommy Shelby- she had to make sure she had no skeleton left in her closet. Her first daughter had to be found. What Tommy understood, however, was that down the line, this woman might actually try to hurt her daughter to protect her second wedding. He offered the men to stop investigating Mary and to work for him instead and gather as much information as they could about her mother. 

"What if... What if I told you that we know who she is and we know she's alive and lives in London?"

"I don't want to know, Polls. What good would that do to me?? SHe left me behind because she wanted a cozy life unburdened by a child of color. I am a black child after all. How could she possibly welcome me? eh? How could she? I have nothing to say to her, nothing because she's not my mother. You are... /you/ Polls... You are the closest of a mother I'll ever have. So please... please... Don't talk to me about her. I don't wanna know." -She wiped some tears and tapped her fingers on the table. 

Polly was moved and relieved that Mary didn't want to know the truth about her mother. Regardless of what that woman might want to do in the future, as long as she doesn't build a rapport with her daughter, it was a difficulty they wouldn't have to deal with in the future. Polly wiped her tears and gave a warm smile to the young woman. She outstretched her arm to grab her hand and stroke it with her thumb. Mary tried to calm down, but she only managed to cry some more. Fuck those tears! where did they come from? It bothered Mary to be crying at lunch, right after they had one of the biggest laughter together. She rolled her eyes and squeezed Polly's hand a little tighter. 

"You said you had several questions... Please, go ahead and ask them." -She begged, refusing to stay in the conversation about her birth mother. Polly got herself together and straightened on her chair.-

"Yes! I. I actually wanted to know... I just..." -She paused- "You are 30, right, Mary? This is very young. Your life has just begun. I know you.."

"I've never seen you hesitate before you ask me a question. It must be something /really/ difficult to get off of your chest." -Intrigued Mary bent a little forward and planted her fork onto her meal.- "So. I'm young, eh? I have my life in front of me, eh? So what... you want to know if I'm ready to get married? Have kids?"

"Smart girl, yes. that was the question I wanted to ask. It's... a big one! You don't have to answer, but I had to ask it. See how you saw your future."

"I'm afraid, Polly. I'm afraid to trust someone to the point of giving them my heart. Carter was an old bastard. He saw the child I was and he decided to abuse my trust before he abused my body.  I married a monster, but you know what that means, don't you?" -Polly nodded and squeezed Mary's hand harder- "I don't know if I could become a good mom. My little Paul... he died because of me...I know he did. So..I-I don't know if I would be a good mom.."

"You are going to be a wonderful mom. Look at how you're taking care of all those orphans and of Charlie. You are a good mom. And by the sound of your voice, I can tell that you want to have another child. You want to try it again." -She smiled at Mary who shrugged and put her fork down.- "What are you afraid of? The father of your kids?"

"Polly...If I were to have a child, I would be married first. I would be married to a man who loves me and who isn't afraid to show it to me. I would trust him with my whole life and I would proudly carry his child. What bothers me, is that, if the father is not a black man.." -She carefully picked her words- "Then he would have to suffer from being ridiculed because he chose me. I can't... become a burden for him."

"Listen to me carefully. Mary, If I am your mother, then You are my daughter! I will never allow anyone to disrespect you. I will never accept to hear, or see any discrimination against you. I will never let them hurt you because of the color of your skin, the features you have, or whatever bullshit they can target you with. You are part of this family. Regardless of what you decide to do, or who you decide to marry, you will always have a home here, with us. With me!" -Mary's eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with her warm palm so she could sob into it. Her eyes quickly filled with tears she let roll down her cheeks.- "I understand that you actually want a family. You want to get married. You want to have children. You want a second chance at life, don't you?" - Mary nodded and moistened her lips.- "Then you will bloody have it! You will! Don't even think you won't!"

"Polls... I don't... I mean...You really woke up early and chose violence as I see." -She tried to lighten up the mood but it barely worked. instead, the young woman was left wiping the tears off of her face.- "How long have you been thinking about it?"

"Long enough. I just needed to make sure that you were not sacrificing anything to make other people happy. It's good to remind ourselves about our goals."

"I am not... I am not doing that." She blushed and moistened her lips. Mary could tell that Polly was walking on eggs. She didn't want to mention Tommy, not when Mary was upset like that. However, she clearly understood that Polly wanted to know if she wanted to build a life with Tommy and what kind of life she wanted for them.- "I do want the happiness of my future spouse, and mine. He can do whatever he wants to do, who am I to judge, eh? However, I hope he would be faithful to me. I hope, he would think about me when I am not here. I hope.. he would give me his heart to keep just like I would give him my heart to keep. I just want to be loved, Polls... is it asking too much?" -She asked, wiping fresh tears off of her face and sitting straighter on her chair. 

"No. It's understandable. You say that your future husband could do whatever he wants to. Are you sure you're ready to commit to these words? Today, everybody is a whore, a gangster, a killer. Fucking businessmen are killers, and MPs are killers.. everyone has blood on their hands. Today it's all about killing first or being the one killed. Your hands are clean."

"But they can get soaked with blood if the need arises. Don't think for a second, that I would not be able to kill a man if that means I can protect myself or my loved ones. I am not as helpless as I used to be. I learned how to use a gun, and how to use a blade. I learned since the last time I was attacked."

"I know. It's good to hear." Polly rubbed her hands together before she grabbed her bag and took a cigarette from it. She lit it up and inhaled some smoke. "Come on, Dry your tears, Mary! I hate when you cry, you're going to make me cry too." -She complained before she released Mary's hand and wiped the tears that had run onto her cheeks.- "Lizzie... she shouldn't have done what she did to you. She knows it, we know it, apologized and Tommy handled her. She'll stay around, she's a trusted secretary. Are you okay with seeing her?"

"Lizzie... Well... to answer you, I am okay with it. I don't mind Lizzie. She is in love with Tommy. I can understand the passion and I know that to her, I'm a stranger who stole her life. I pity her, Really... She is looking at the wrong person. She's looking for a Tommy who doesn't exist."

Polly took a minute to consider the words Mary said.  She was right, essentially right in the fact that Lizzie didn't see Tommy for who he really was. She projected her desires onto him, her desire for a clean slate and a better life. Her desire for having someone who knew her and accepted all of her. She wished Tommy cared for her, at a deeper level like he cared for Grace but he only had empathy and compassion for Lizzie. friendship at the very best, but definitely not love. Mary had a speech that Polly had not heard from others. She encouraged her to keep talking, blowing the smoke out before she took another puff. 

"And who is Tommy, Mary? Do you know who he is?"

"No. I don't. Tommy is like a black stallion, Polls. He can't be tamed, and shouldn't be. Black stallions thrive best when they are free. I might not have been on the battlefield, but I do know what it is to have flashbacks of traumatic events hit back at you as if you were living the moment again... and again.. and again.  I do know how it feels to be trapped, to live in a world that hates your guts and wants to see you dead. Tommy...is complex to grasp, not complicated, just complex because he doesn't give the keys to understand him fully. He still protects himself because I assume, he doesn't want to suffer anymore. He wants to be in control of everything. He wants to be the man on top so he wouldn't be the soldier at the bottom anymore. but what I see, when I look into his eyes at night. What I see is a broken man. What I see, is a man in pain. A soul looking for comfort. For peace. for reassurance.  Just like Black stallions, and horses in general, he can't be alone, Polls. He can't be alone. He needs you. He needs his brothers. He needs his family. He needs you. He needs love. I might not have a lot to give, but as long as I live in his house, I will give both Charlie and him all the love in the world." -She blushed and bit her bottom lip. She wasn't upset anymore and didn't realize the full impact of her words on Polly nor what it revealed to the older woman. -

"I see. You really spent time studying Tommy." -Polly chuckled a little, moved by the words the young woman just said to her. Mary loved Tommy. It was plain as day. Of course, she loved that man.- "I guess that I have all the answers I was looking for. For now. Maybe we should be moving forward and focusing on something else instead? Something a little more pleasant to talk about?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... Let me know, what exactly do you have planned for the children for summer."

And Mary started to tell her about what she had decided to do for the kids. It helped warm up the atmosphere and they relaxed against their chairs. Mary was happy that Polly asked her questions about how she felt about Tommy and about what could make her comfortable. Polly was perhaps, one of the very few women who actually cared about her. She had a family. She /WAS/ family. Polly really wanted to make her realize just how important she was for the family and not just because of Tommy. She established actual connections with all of them and it couldn't be brushed under the rug to simply focus on Tommy. She was family and it was damn time that she saw the truth as it was. 

-TBC-

A Vintage's touch: The Nightingale and the Young Wolf -

"Do you know that you have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen?" 

Michael remembered the coy smile she gave him after he told her that he loved her smile. She had that special way to blush and shake her head while her lips would curl into a lovely half-smile. Years later, Michael still didn't forget her. He wrote letters to Mary in a bid to hear from her. For a couple months, he hoped she would write back. He hoped she would at least be friendly to him but he understood why she wouldn't. After all, Tommy Shelby didn't like him. Tommy and his toxic charisma convinced everyone that Michael had to leave The UK to hide in America. Tommy didn't trust him, and even worse, started to treat him as if he was a stranger, which didn't sit well with Michael. He was as much as a Peaky Blinders as Tommy was but for some reason, he was denied to be taken seriously. Michael was obsessed with Mary, something he couldn't quite explain. It wasn't /Love/ -That died really fast and he fell in love with Gina-, no, she embodied all the things Tommy had and shouldn't have. She embodied his cousin's influence and power, a destructive force that could hurt those around him. Mary could have been his wife, back when he was still in love with her. She was too infatuated with Tommy to acknowledge him. She was blindly following that man who had brainwashed her, to realize what she could have had. An honest man, a man who spoke his emotions, a man who could have made her happy. 

"Michael Gray, you are a man full of ambition." -She told him once, and Michael could see the warm smile she had on her lips-

Even now, as he was talking to his friend about Tommy's gin distillery, Michael couldn't help but be plagued with memories of Mary. He wanted to go back to Birmingham, so he could face his cousin, suggest a new direction for the family to take, and also see Mary again. He remembered the way his heart pounded against his ribcage when the woman first sang at the Garrison Pub. His skin was covered in goosebumps. His face was red from a slight blush on his cheeks. She was beautiful, even in her everyday outfit. She was gorgeous, even with her waitress apron on. She was beautiful given the passion she had when she was singing that love song. Michael had never seen a woman like her, an angel according to him. She was someone who shouldn't be involved in "sports". She shouldn't take part in the criminal activities of the Peaky Blinders, he wanted her to remain oblivious of what they were doing, for her own protection and disagreed with his cousins about it. 

Archer listened carefully to Michael's explanations. Ultimately, he didn't want to start a beef with the Peaky Blinders. It would quickly become a problem for his business and he didn't want to have them as enemies. However, he also knew that things were rather calm for everyone in the United Kingdom, communists were the biggest fear the country had to deal with so far, business was booming again and with the American Prohibition era, it was even sweeter to smuggle alcohol to the country. Thomas Shelby's Gin was known to be a good one, not too sweet and not too expensive so women could drink it all day long without making a mess of themselves. It was a good business and something Archer was interested in taking. Of course, he couldn't confirm that Tommy wanted to sell it, but he would try and make a first good impression so that when Tommy would sell his business, he would remember him. 

What he didn't know, however, was what followed. After debating with himself, Michael couldn't help but mention Mary. He needed to know what she knew. He needed to have a connection, to learn if Mary was really under the influence of Tommy or if she made her own decisions for herself. Perhaps, he wanted to know if she was married, perhaps was he trying to rekindle their friendship...or more. He was confused and despite his best attempt, he couldn't help himself but tell Archer about her. He wanted to reach out to her, perhaps.... perhaps what Michael? take her away from Tommy in whatever way you could find? Make sure she only saw you? What about Gina? Archer noticed his friend's reticence in showing him a picture of Mary, but after a while, he convinced the young man to show him who this woman was. It didn't disappoint, upon seeing the photograph, Archer's gaze grew intense as he was interested. She was indeed a rather beautiful woman, one he was eager to meet. He couldn't really perceive Michael's intentions about her, maybe some concern, maybe some "friendly" feelings he felt for her because they've been in each other lives for years. 

Perhaps he was worried. Either way, he requested his friend to meet with Mary and have a conversation with her on his behalf. That was the only thing he wanted, but Michael soon realized given the gaze his friend gave him, that there might be a genuine interest in the woman.  He bit his inner cheek, cursing himself for suggesting this idea and potentially losing Mary to someone like Archibald.  There was a chance he succeeded in courting the woman. Archibald was a handsome man, tall with broad shoulders and black hair. He had deep blue eyes, and little sideburns, and wore suits really well. He was a rich man, one of the most sought-after bachelors in the UK and he was rich. Mary might not care about money as long as she had a roof above her head and something to eat every day, but Michael knew that women liked to be comfortable and a rich husband might actually feel tempting. Michael cleared his throat and nodded at Archibald.

"So... What do you say about my project? Would you go to Birmingham and meet with my cousin?"

"I think I will. I am interested in all the quality products I could find. If what you say is true and your cousin's gin is actually the best in the market right now, I am interested in buying it." -Michael sighed in relief and smiled at the idea that his plan was moving forward. - "I agree on your terms. I would buy it, you would be the owner, but I would be the one to distribute it. 50/50"

"No. That's not what we agreed to. It's a 70-30 or you drop it." -Archibald lifted a brow, and contemplated his friend's refusal to give him half his share- 

"MMhhh... Michael, you are my friend. I can agree to this 70-30 thing you want, but if I do agree, I will take the girl. I don't really believe that you are just a friend of hers. I believe, however, that you want her for some reasons I don't have. I agree to 70-30 but I will take this Mary Colson for me. She is sweet, isn't she? She is beautiful, isn't she? Well... I buy this Gin Distillery, you get the most of it, and I get to become richer and with a beautiful girl in my bed." -He outstretched his hand towards Michael who swallowed a lump. Why did he care anyway? He was married to Gina and what he wanted was to take things off of Tommy's hands. So what if she fell for  Archibald? Why should he care? - "Deal?"

"Deal!" -he shook Archibald's hand but he wasn't sure about his decision to involve a friend in his business. Perhaps this was a mistake, and perhaps it wasn't. All he hoped for was for Tommy to not make the connection between Archibald and him. Yet.-

-TBC-

GoT (regular): Johanna

 GoT (regular): Johanna

A/N: A little moment between Bäahal and herself.

xxxxxx

The silver princess  stared at her reflection on the vanity.  She brushed her hair, going slowly as she was looking at her reflection. Going outside and attending more of the family dinners together was actually having a good impact on her. She was very apprehensive about how these things would unfold but was relieved to see that not only did Jon and Tyrion helped lighten the mood and redirect the focus on other matters, but that her sister was also doing her best to make Bäahal comfortable. She had realized that the first serious conversation since her return had caused so much pain between the two of them that it became difficult to stay at the same place for a long while. Dany avoided her, and the few times they crossed paths, they exchanged the minimum of words possible. Daenerys had to do some soul searching before she decided what to do next. It just felt good to have her family around her and set her worries aside. 

Bäahal sighed and put the brush on the table. Her eyes warmed up as a memory of her time at Casterly Roc. She remembered the old maid who was assigned to her protection and care. Maid Johanna was a force of nature, a woman who was very observant and knew each and any of Tywin's children. She embraced the princess as soon as she was given to her. Her warm hands brought comfort to the silver haired princess, her wise words comforted her broken heart. Johanna restored the princess back to health. Through her care, the princess was able to find her appetite back and slowly started to trust others than Jaime and Lady Kyra.  The princess gently ran her hand over her soft cheek and  pressed a soft kiss to the wrist.  

Johanna was the one who induced hope in the princess' heart. She was the one who helped her realize that Jaime was not indifferent to her and that perhaps her feelings were requited as well. She told her stories about the young Golden Lion, about how he used to be, how he still was. Jaime had not changed that much over time. He was still a man of honour, a family man who would give everything he had to protect and serve his family. He came back to Lady Kyra with a desire to start anew. he finally accepted his feelings for the princess -although his first impulse was to drive her away from him out of love for her-.  Johanna noticed the concern in the face of her beautiful blonde boy. She could see the love he had for Bäahal, that bound him to her even more than duty ever did. He lwas in love with her, almost lost her and was now trying to protect her. 

Johanna knew.. and she tried to tell it to the younger woman. it worked somehow, enough for the princess to find the strength to stop hiding her feelings for the knight. She couldn't anyway, even if she wanted. The slave she used to be was no more and since she became free, Bäahal was more than honest. She wore her heart on her sleeve, literally spoke her mind, trusted people because they weren't the slavemasters and she was able to see in their eyes the truth.  She was able to see in Jaime the truth about him and this from the moment they first met.  Johanna was wise, Johanna realized that the princess was desperately in love with the Golden Lion and she wanted the best for him. 

Could it be that she connected two souls together? Could it be that her love for her "children" and affection for the princess helped her realize that she couldn't be away from the Knight for too long? At Casterly Rock upon recovering from the siege and her near-death experience, the Targaryen princess realized that she couldn't be happy with staying at the castle. She couldn't be happy if she had to give up on her love for the knight. She needed him to know she loved him and would always care for him, even if that was from a distance. a conversation happened there, a long and tearful conversation that left the two of them forever changed and aware of each other's true feelings. 

And along with it came the burden of such decision.  As the princess had stopped brushing her hair to look at her reflection, she put both hands on her cheeks and gently pressed them, as if she wanted to massage them. instead she sighed and a few tears she rolled down  her cheeks. the last couple weeks had been so intense that she couldn't have a decent sleep. instead she stayed awake for a long time, cried her eyes out and even had few moments of doubts. She found strength in the words Johanna gave her and in the comfort of her room, the silver princess was remembering this woman.  Her fingers wiped out the tears that rolled down her cheeks and smiled through them. This little memory reminded her of the fact Light always found a way, even in the darkest times. 

-TBC-

GoT: Who am I ? (Missandei x Bäahal)

GoT: Who am I ? (Missandei x Bäahal)

A/N: I have missed my little princess and since this conversation didn't want to leave my mind, here you are. 

xxxx

« What if I survived this war? » The silver princess' voice echoed through her room. Missandei was brushing her silver locks, focused on her task when her best friend let out alarming words.

« You don't plan on surviving? » Her lips were dry, her throat hurt but the question had to be asked. Bäahal shook her head and looked at her reflection on the mirror.

« I do. However... I do not know how to handle what will come next. All my life, I have focused my mind on setting myself free but never went further than this. I was convinced that freedom was nothing but a dream to keep my mind from being swallowed all by doubt and fear. I thought I would never see the day...until it happened. »

« Daenerys came to our rescue and you found me. » Missandei finished her sentence and brushed her hair. « It was luck... »

« It was /Fate/! We had to meet 'Dei. We had to meet again and sail away from Mereen. » She smiled at her own words, briefly so before a more worried expression crossed her face. « It took some time but I finally realize what had just happened. I was given freedom, I took it from my master, but Daenerys helped me un-shackle my mind. You did too... » She said, leaning her head back against Missandei's chest.

The former slave put the brush on the table and gently wrapped her arms around the princess' shoulders. She understood how it felt, to finally be able to be your own person and given the luxury of choice and not being able to know what to do. It came naturally to Missandei, finding her place was easy, she would serve Daenerys all the while living the life she wanted to. Once the war would be over and the queen would be on the throne, Missandei was thinking about having a family with Grey-Worm. They would finally be free to live their romance in the daylight without the fear of losing the other to War. From her point of view, it was exciting actually and she was curious to see what was to come. For Bäahal things were different. She still had to figure out who she was and what she wanted in her life. Freedom tasted bittersweet because while it got her rid of people desires on her and directives, it burdened her with the ability to choose for herself and to decide for her life. How could one do just that? How could they know who they really were? Questions were plaguing the princess' mind who sighed and wrapped her arms over Missandei's.

« And I will always be there for you, pr----Büu.. it's a promise. «  She said, planting a kiss on top of the princess' head. Bäahal's purple hues stared at their reflections and she bit her bottom lip.

«I don't know who I am or what I can do. I am fine with the war because I have found my place. I support my sister, I help her defeat her enemies, I protect her. When she's queen and as she would rule with Jon Snow....what am I going to do? Who am I going to be? »

« What you've always been, Bäahal. What you've always been.. » She said as she planted another kiss on top of her head. « A sister...a friend...a fierce warrior, a survivor...a gentle soul. You have a fire in your heart, just like your ancestors and your siblings. You have a fire that needs to burn brightly if you let it. » She said as she gently pulled away from the princess and knelt near her chair. Her hand stroked her cheek and she smiled at her.

« I will have to leave the castle and find out. I am not meant to be locked in a pretty castle and look pretty while my sister governs. I am not meant to be in her council either... I need to breathe, but can I leave? »

« She will let you go if you ask her. Bäahal, you have your whole life to find out what you're meant to do. Don't hold back because of your fears. » She then cupped both of her cheeks. « And you are so much much than you allow yourself to think. You are my friend. » She said with a warm smile.

Missandei was sweet and soft with Bäahal. She knew her words could reach out to the princess and appease her. Her hazel eyes met purple hues filled with unshed tears and she laid her head against her lap. Bäahal chewed at her bottom lip but remained silent, instead, she let her hands run through her best friend's hair as she contemplated Missandei's words. She would have to ask Daenerys if she could leave her sides and visit the world to eventually know who she was beside her sister or a survivor. Maybe, and that was something she couldn't express out loud- she also wanted to get away from the place that would see Lord Jaime and eventually Lady Kyra dead. She would need to go away, reset her mind and forget about the conflicted emotions she felt for the Golden Lion. It couldn't be what she thought it was. He didn't stay long enough to imprint her mind and not enough to leave an eternal memory. She refused to believe so. Yet, her heart was beating faster when his name was said out loud, and the mere thought of him made her pulse go wild. He would die and maybe, that was the best thing to ever happen.

Maybe...

-TBC-

(got) Bäahal: The greater cause

A/ N: Tyrion and Bäahal discussing before the war against the Night King and his army. It's a bit heavy because of the themes involved in, but oh so damn needed. All the usual disclaimers

xxx

The winds of winter seemed colder than usual, perhaps the seven gods were already weeping at the loss of their children lives. Perhaps it was just the weather that became more difficult to handle for the Southern Child. Bäahal hated Winterfell for its weather. She had seen how resilient the people of the North were, but also how curious and uncomfortable they were with the daughters of the Mad King. It took Daenerys some efforts to convince the Northerners of her good intentions. Yes, she came as a queen, earned the trust of their previous leader Jon Snow and brought with her savages from the South in the form of the Dothraki and former slaves in the form of the Unsullied. She was a foreign queen, this Daenerys and yet, her compassion shone through with each and every one of her speeches. They knew Daenerys agreed to come to the North and help them defeat the Night King's army with her two remaining dragons and her fantastic army. They felt grateful for her genuine interest in protecting them and little by little it became easier to see her walk around Winterfell with Jon or the Stark children. It became less tense between her army and Jon's people. It just became easier. Bäahal praised the people but hated the place nonetheless. Yet, the winds whipped her face that night and for the first time since she arrived at Winterfell, she tolerated them. The night fell upon the North and only the noises of dragon glass being shaped into weapons filled the air.

« I was certain I would find you here, your grace. » -Tyrion's voice tore the silence that had settled around her.-

Bäahal was mildly annoyed by the interruption of her sister's Hand. He always found a way to get to her but tonight, of all nights, she welcomed his company. She found comfort in the relative silence surrounding her and the solitude of the balcony she was standing at but having someone to talk to in the dying hours of the night was more than appreciated. Tomorrow, the great war will begin and everyone around her spent the night with their loved one. The princess already said goodbye to Daenerys and Jon earlier today. She renewed her vows to protect them with her blades. It was solemn, perhaps too much as it did sound like farewells. Daenerys confided in Tyrion that she was afraid her sister might actually seek death on the battlefield and wouldn't return to her. Tyrion comforted the queen as much as he could but he himself was uncertain about tomorrow. He tried to rationalize his fear, thinking that it was normal to be apprehensive about the next day. He had not fought many wars but had already been in a life-and-death situation. He vowed to never find himself in such ordeal and managed to not appear on the battlefield. He wouldn't tomorrow, because what good would an imp be against the white walkers? Instead, Tyrion would be more useful at Winterfell.

« We have to admit, Lord Tyrion that this is the ideal spot for introspection. I figured that maybe, I could use it one last time to clear my mind before the battle. » -Her voice was soft, softer than usual. He came closer to the silver princess and looked up at her face.-

« I figured you would. I was expecting you to bid farewell to your loved ones. » -He said, looking past the balcony.-

« I already had... » She clenched her fists. «I was expecting you to spend time with your family. »

« The night is still young... »

Tyrion wasn't sure about spending time with Jaime. Had they not already said all there was to say about them? Seeing him for the first time after Jaime helped his younger brother made his heart soar. They were on two opposing sides, but Tyrion championed his brother and believed that he wouldn't die against the Dothraki and Drogon. He feared for him when the blonde Lannister charged on his queen but sighed in relief when the ever loyal Bronn pushed the man into the lake. Seeing him again, to convince him to set up a meeting with Cersei warmed Tyrion's heart, for he could finally talk to his brother, express his gratitude for saving his life and show him that he did quite good on his own. He might have been disowned by his own family, he still remained a Lannister at heart, he still wanted to protect his siblings and ensure their survival. Even Cersei.....Even her. So why would he speak to Jaime tonight? Wish him good luck? He already did. Speak of what would happen once they return victorious? They already knew Jaime would return to Cersei and he would, once again, become an enemy. So what was there for them to talk?

« Yes it is... » -Bäahal answered, her purple eyes glowing slightly- « I have always thought that prior to the war, my mind would be focused on all the happy moments I've ever shared. I don't have many, Lord Tyrion, but I have a few moments where the pain wasn't the center of my life...and yet, all I can see when I close my eyes is the moment I took a life. »

Memories of that day overwhelmed the silver-haired princess. Memories of an endless stream of blood that soaked her dyed pink hair soaked her hands and arms and tainted the torn toga she was wearing. Memories of a man with foam at his mouth, who couldn't contain himself when she saw her perform her famous dance for him, alone, in his room. She could still feel his eyes filled with lust, undressing her as she went with her dance routine and remembered the sense of danger that overwhelmed her all of a sudden. Physical violence was not new in the slave's world, she had been flogged, branded, slapped around and her body used against her will to satisfy her previous owners. The new one was more gentle than the others, demanding but gentle. Exclusive too. Nobody but him was allowed to touch her and those who didn't comply had to face his wrath. So nobody dared. Nobody but this man who requested a private dance. He threw himself at her like a beast, not fast enough for the dancer to escape from his grasp. She ran, hit the table where fruits, meat, and some other edibles were on display. Bäahal fell on the floor, on top of a knife. The cold metal sent shivers down her spine but she saw a sign of the gods. The man was twice her size, a blonde giant with green eyes who held onto one of her wrists while his other hand was busy ripping her clothes off. She tried to scream, but her voice betrayed her, nothing but the wind escaped her lips so she knew she would have to rescue herself. Fantasies of freedom became more and more intense in the previous weeks and with it came a newfound desire. She refused. She REFUSED!

«You are going on the battlefield tomorrow. You're going to put an end to abominations.  I suppose thinking of the last time you had to be this violent comes with the territory. » -Wise words from the Hand of her sister. He was right. 

« Or perhaps, it is a way for my mind to remind me of my purpose and my dreams. Of what's to come next... »

It was a real carnage people said, the room was messy, there was blood everywhere. She was found confused, shaking and covered with his blood and bruises from his angry fists. She did struggle against him and he made her pay her resistance with a few gifts of his own, but she was still impressed by the moment. She took a life, she killed a man and from this moment on, she was free. She closed her eyes and ran her hand through her silver hair. Tomorrow would be the end, she was certain of it. Tyrion stepped closer to her.

« What is it that comes next, princess? »

« My death. » She simply said, her eyes staring at the distance.

« I beg your pardon? »

Had he heard her well? Did she just casually say to him that she was planning to die tomorrow? He couldn't know for sure if all of the men who would fight this war would return alive. He didn't even know if the wrighs won't succeed in invading Winterfell and turn each and every one of them into the undead. That didn't mean Tyrion was willing to die tomorrow or any other day. The princess, however, seemed to be seeking her demise. He had seen it happen with animals who grew up in captivity and once freed rushed to their deaths. Freedom had a bitter taste for the princess, she wasn't used to it, she didn't know what to do with her life now that it belonged to her and he could tell she was scared. Murdering her master was her first choice as a freed slave, joining Daenerys was the second. He suspected that helping the queen get on the throne became the only thing that defined the princess' life. Once that was done, he dreaded she would not have anything more to do and without a purpose, she would try and end her life.

« I am not going to make it. I know it deep down Lord Tyrion. All my life I have been wondering what my calling was. My horizon was limited, my options even more. I was born a property, meant to entertain and amuse. And while I thought this was it, that they had broken my spirit, then came the thoughts of freedom. It was my only purpose, survive long enough so I could see myself as a free woman, fulfill my mother's dream and make sure her sacrifice wasn't in vain. When I did... » She paused and shut her eyes tight. « When I did, freedom tasted heavenly. I was free, I owned myself, I could write my own destiny. I wanted to leave Mereen, see the world and decide for myself what would be best for me. Repaying my sister with my devotion seemed to be fitting. Her goal became mine. We would fight together until she was sitting on the throne. I couldn't think past this, I couldn't think of me. I didn't see /me/. » She said hitting on her chest with her fist.

Her voice was cracking and she covered her mouth with her warm palm and looked away. She didn't quite know why she was telling him so much about herself. She and Tyrion always had a complicated relationship. They started on rocky grounds, with mistrust and anger but as time went by they learned how to trust each other and ended up forming a relationship based on respect. Tyrion sighed and shook his head, definitely not pleased with what he was listening to.

« You have the chance to see yourself and think for yourself. You changed your life when you killed your masters, you changed your life when you joined our queen. You decided for yourself, why wouldn't you do the same once she's sitting on the throne? » -His voice was encouraging as if he wanted her to consider living some more.-

« I would have accomplished everything I had to accomplish. Fate willed Aerys II to have a child with my mother, a slave. Fate willed said child to be free and meet Daenerys. Fate willed this child to help protect Life itself in the battle that will happen tomorrow. I will give my life for the greater cause that is Life. How more noble could I be? » She asked, swallowing back a sob and forcing a smile on her lips.

« You haven't even begun to live, princess. The greater cause is fine for mortals like us who have ambition, but we hide behind this noble cause because we're afraid to look inside ourselves. We're afraid to discover that we're just ordinary men with hopes and dreams. »

« Isn't your dream to be able to reconcile with your siblings, Lord Tyrion? Your brother is here, your little sister is with him. You have the chance to repair your relationship with your estranged family, change the narration imposed by your ascendants and write your own history. You love Ser Jaime and Lady Kyra and I know you're worried you might lose your brother again to the Night King. I would say, go see him tonight... Go see your loved ones tonight. » She said looking away from him.

She was right and Tyrion refused to admit she was, so he stubbornly looked away from her as well, to give her some space. He tapped his fingers against his thigh and then cleared his throat.

« I will, like I said, the night is young. My point, your grace, was that you have hopes and dreams too and if you can't see them now, maybe with time you will find out. Life is mysterious, painful, surprising and I wouldn't stand there in front of you and say that it's worth living if I did not believe my own words. You are a young princess, and you have your whole life in front of you. You have a sister who loves you, a sister who opened her heart for you and one who truly cares for your well-being. We can guide you if you're lost or confused. We can guide you through this free life if you allow us to. »

He then grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to it. Bäahal turned to face him and knelt in front of him. The wind was blowing on the opposite side of her body. Tyrion looked at her intensely but didn't move. The princess moved her hands and gently cupped his cheeks. For the first time since they first met, she was warm to him. His body, stiff like a rock, relaxed against hers as he felt her thumbs stroke against his cheeks. The princess then pulled him into a hug and held him tightly against her frame. He leaned into her a little more and relaxed against her touch. He didn't quite know what to say to the princess for he felt he had said everything already. She was clearly afraid of life without someone to decide for her, but he was hoping that she would trust her sister and him to guide her.

« Thank you for your words, Lord Tyrion. I still believe that tomorrow I will meet my fate, but I won't forget what you said if the seven gods want me alive and Fate wills me to survive, I shall....try. »

It was the best she could say under such circumstances, but it was enough.

-TBC-

(GoT): With each bite we taste paradise

// I did not give a context or a timeline because it could fit anywhere. I simply wanted to focus on the feelings and give some more details about her, like the branding scar she has on her back. She doesn't let many people in, and she'd rather choose you and come to you than the other way around. It's, again, just a blurb, nothing to take too seriously. That just happened when I saw this picture:)

« How should I address you, now that you are a princess? »

Missandei's voice distracted the princess who was training in her room. She didn't sleep for more than a couple of hours at night because more often than not, her mind told her of dangers that existed. She had to always be on edge in this cruel and uncertain world. If she wasn't careful, Bäahal could have been assaulted in her sleep or even worse, killed. If she wasn't careful, she could have been kidnapped and sold to another owner, much worse than the one she had at the moment. Bäahal's story was one of pain, of loss, of cruelty. She still had her back scarred and branded by one of her owners. she still remembered the public execution of her mother, who was punished because she tried to save her life. Bäahal still had her nightmares and memories of the people she was forced to kill.

« You should address me like always, 'Dei... » -She grinned and straightened up.-

In the confines of her room, she was free to dress as she pleased. Always she wore a pair of pants and a light shirt to help her move. Her moves were fluid, fast, hard, and precise. She stopped, her chest heaving up and down as she was trying to catch her breath back. Missandei and her have been knowing each other since they were children but their friendship truly blossomed when Bäahal's master moved to Mereen. Missandei grabbed the soft fabric on the bed and handed it to Bäahal who stopped training and grabbed the fabric. Bäahal had two silver daggers with ivory handles shaped like howls, those daggers were the only gift her master ever gave her. As soon as he realized she could become his personal assassin after she killed one of his rivals who tried to physically assault her, he let her choose her weapons. She could have had anything, from a sword to a bow made at his expense and she chose a pair of daggers. The howls were associated with one of the old gods, ensuring protection as well as revenge.

« So, you're saying I should call you Bäahal ?? » -A light chuckle escaped from her plump lips as she watched Bäahal's chest heave up and down.- « I can't do that, You're a princess now. »

« Only in name. I'm a princess only in name! » She said, throwing the fabric back onto the bed and running her hand through her silver locks. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest.

« You have an actual family, Bäahal. You have a sister, it's not just a title. »

« We're not the same and she doesn't need me. » Bäahal lips were trembling and she bit her bottom lip. « I'm new at this. All my life it had always been my mother and me against the world. Then there was you... I know you. I don't know her and she's a queen. I've never been about conquest and ruling. I wouldn't even know what to do once she sits on the throne. » She was starting to panic and let herself sit on the cold floor.

« You're overwhelmed. » Missandei recognized that her friend was going through a panic attack. If it wasn't for her heavy breathing and panicked stare, it would have been the way she shook and the repeated hand gesture. She unclenched her fists and dropped her daggers on the floor and started to clench and unclench them rapidly. Missandei knelt in front of her. « Bäahal ?.. Bäahal, look at me. »

« We're not the same 'Dei. We're not the same. We don't even look the same. »

« You don't have to look the same to be family. The same blood runs through your veins. »

« The same blood might run through our veins, I am still a bastard. I am still less than a full-blooded Targaryen... I'm... I'm nothing! »

« You're a princess! » Missandei put her hands to her lips and gently kissed them, catching the princess' attention and helped her focus on something else than her thoughts. It seemed to work, a lot like it did in the past. The princess' fingers were still shaking but she was more focused. « You're a princess, and you are just like me and Grey Worm and the others. You know both of those worlds and you have the power to help shape it into a better place. » She cupped Bäahal's ebony cheek and stroked it with her soft thumb.

« I don't. That's where you're wrong. I don't have this power and if I did, I wouldn't know how to use it. Do you know how it feels to stand there and to think that you shouldn't because you're a fraud? Do you know how it feels to stand there and not know what to answer when they ask you what you truly desire? I can't even answer this simple question! I can't because I don't know the answer...I don't know what to do. I only know how to serve! She told me I wasn't there to serve her but if I am not serving.. then what should I do? Missandei....I'm scared. » She confessed and shut her eyes tight.

« You lost everything... Of course, you are scared, Bäahal. Do you remember what we used to tell each other during our meals? » She asked, her brown eyes staring at Bäahal's purple. <With each bite we taste paradise> She said in high valyrian. Bäahal's hands were starting to shake a lot less, which allowed Missandei to keep rubbing her hands, gently stroking her fingers to calm her friend. It was a sentence they said to each other during meals, in a way to encourage each other to appreciate every single moment of peace they could have. During meals, they weren't with their masters and they could breathe without fear. They could exist without fear. During meals, Bäahal wouldn't have to dance or pretend she was in absolute bliss. During meals, they could talk and share and actually feed their bellies until the next tantrum of their owners. Bäahal went to bed with an empty stomach at times so she knew how precious and vital those moments were.

<With each bite, we taste paradise.> She repeated, finally centering herself back to reality. Her breathing returned to normal and her tears stopped rolling on her cheeks. <With each bite, we taste paradise.>

« Yes.. we do. Look at us. We're both free and you are a princess now. The sister of my queen. I believe Fate brought us together and I cannot wait to see what will come next. You have a lot to lose now. We both have, but the Bäahal I know would fight teeth and nails to protect what she loves. »

« To protect who she loves. » -She corrected, a faint smile on her lips-

« Yes...To protect who you love. »

-TBC-