Hello all! I hope you all have been well!
As requested this fic is a sequel to Cardinal Points.
It features Donatello and takes place after the one-shot Compass Star (which was an addendum to Cardinal Points but one you don't have to read to enjoy this story)
A giant thank you to my lovely beta Marie Allen for betaing this chapter for me, you are super awesome! XD
And now, please enjoy!
Chapter 1
Donatello knelt upon the tiled floor, his head bowed, hands bound before him by a set of heavy iron chains that rattled slightly when he moved and he wondered with embarrassment how he had ended up in this situation?
He of course knew exactly how it had happened, even why it had happened, but it didn't mean he was overall accepting of the whole thing.
A current prisoner of war, his fate was held in the clawed hands of the woman who had him hunted down like a wild animal and dragged bodily in front of her court to face probable torture and execution; depending upon her state of mind at that particular moment.
Kneeling in front of her, with hooded lids, he tilted his head up enough so that he could see the woman who sat upon her throne -created from the bones of long dead, monstrous creatures- a pure black wolf sitting at her side, a silver chain leash held in a careless hand.
His gaze fell upon her feet -one delicate, oddly sensual bare foot perched upon the ground. His eyes moved up a lithe alabaster calf until the other foot was revealed, one leg negligently crossed over the other.
Sweeping up the length of her bare thighs, he noted the way the black fabric draped elegantly to the side, a profusion of lace and tulle adding weight, depth and a gothic flare to the dress while noting that the slit that ran up to her waist was so high, that Donatello knew she couldn't be wearing any underwear.
Eyes daring to move higher, he studied the tight corset with its red detailing, small hearts stitched into the silk before his eyes caught sight of the velvety expanse of her breasts, bound and pushed upwards, nearly spilling forth from their confines.
Donatello swallowed roughly and felt his eyes rove upwards, tracing across the line of her shoulders peppered with scars, but it was the pale scars transecting her face that arrested his attention.
They were in no way disfiguring, but it was the scar that was slashed through her lip that he focused on. Crimson lips were quirked up at him with satisfied, mischievous malice, and against his will, he felt tempted to trace the sensual imperfection with his lips, and this realization rocked him to his core.
His eyes leapt upwards and away causing his gaze to collide with hers for a brief moment. Half of her face was hidden by the black feather, leather, and lace mask she wore, but her gaze was arresting: dark, seductive, heated, and dangerous.
Donatello glanced down staring at his hands as he tried to control his pounding heart and his raging erection.
He was officially the worst brother in all of existence. And considering the track record in their family, this was saying something.
Still, he was not supposed to be looking at his brother's wife and thinking about her in any way beyond brotherly affection. He certainly shouldn't be allowing his baser needs get the better of him.
Only, right now, he was not kneeling in front of Catherine, his brother's mate, he was kneeling in front of the Queen of Hearts.
Letting his shoulders slump in defeat and grateful that he wasn't in a position that allowed both his sister-in-law and his brother know how much he was enjoying the view, he placated his conscience by reasoning that it really wasn't his fault.
For well over a year he had been exposed to nothing but hormones, pheromones, the occasional naked woman and the smell of sex assaulting his nostrils day in and day out.
He was happy for all of his brothers, he wished them luck and every possible joy that came with meeting the person that they felt completed them. But the truth was, every week that passed the more and more depressed he was becoming about his perpetually single state.
The biggest problem, he supposed, was that he was the most rational of his siblings. He dealt in numbers and probabilities, and according to his math, they were running at a statistical deficit.
Donatello knew that the chances of meeting a woman with which any one of them could have a romantic relationship with was 0.0000003% He had calculated the math on several occasions and come to the conclusion that he and his brothers were going to remain alone for the entirety of their lives.
Only somehow, his calculations had been wrong; so very, very wrong.
Raphael, the most difficult, abrasive, infuriating and hot-tempered of his brothers, was now married.
Leonardo had been dating Elizabeth for six months and Michelangelo and Sabrina had been dating for almost a year and a half.
None of this computed at all. But Donatello understood statistical probabilities and he knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to beat the odds that had been stacked against him.
Catherine and Elizabeth had come into their lives and each sister had found her mate with one of his brothers. Elizabeth had a friend who happened to see Michelangelo for what he was and they had both fallen head over heels for each other. But Donatello wasn't so naïve as to believe that any of these events would repeat themselves in any way shape or form.
His circle of friends was larger now, but the opportunity to meet any women was still the same, their situation no better than it had been a year ago.
They still lived in a sewer, and had nothing to offer their significant others but themselves. None of his brothers except Raphael lived with their respective mates, and it seemed as if this would continue for some time.
Both Leonardo and Michelangelo didn't want either Elizabeth or Sabrina living in a sewer and neither brother felt comfortable living at the Brownstone, where both women lived together.
It was an impossible situation and he knew that both brothers were envious of Raphael and Catherine, but were unable and possibly unwilling to go to the lengths that they had to accomplish this feat.
"Stand," the Queen of Heart's voice commanded, dragging him from his thoughts and reminding him of where he was.
He knew he was supposed to stand, but right now, that was not a good idea. The position he was in now was ideal. His desire for his brother's wife was well hidden and he suddenly didn't feel up to playing the role that had been cast for him.
Knowing he was going to ruin everything Catherine, Elizabeth and Sabrina had worked so hard to put together, he found that he couldn't seem to help himself.
There was a murmur from the Court and the sudden movement of heavy fabric.
Donatello didn't dare look up, but felt Catherine approach, which was surprising because with the dark, diaphanous wings attached to her back, the flowing gown and multitude of capes she wore, Donatello hadn't believed that Catherine would be able to get off of the throne unassisted.
A metal clawed finger was placed under his chin and he was forced to look into Catherine's intuitive green eyes.
She always had the ability to read anyone and everyone around her and although he had been the occasional object of her searching gaze, he had never felt it as keenly as he did now.
He supposed it was because he felt as if he had something he wanted to keep hidden at the moment and he knew with a disconcerting certainty that he wouldn't be able to hide what that was from Catherine's probing gaze.
"I would have thought that you would fight fiercely against the situation you find yourself currently in," Catherine observed and Donatello knew that her words were not the ones that had been scripted for her.
Donatello didn't know how to respond to her so he remained silent.
"The uninspiring creature in front of me is not worth the effort I expelled in bringing him here," Catherine mused dangerously.
Donatello swallowed roughly and lowered his gaze again.
"You and your brothers are the last of your kind," she observed." Great warriors who lived through dark, bloody, world-saving battles, only to find yourselves, in the end, hiding in the shadows and all alone."
Donatello gritted his teeth because for some reason he suddenly felt himself on the edge of tears. Catherine's words were closer to what was written, but she had altered them enough that they touched on a pain that sat within his very soul.
"And now, here you kneel before me, so defeated that you no longer have the will to fight."
Lifting his head, Donatello glared at her. "There's nothing to fight for," he snarled, feeling oddly defensive and wounded by her insightful words.
"Do you not want what your brothers have?" she wondered with dark, tempting curiosity.
Donatello suddenly stood as Catherine straightened. He looked down at her, the previous desire that had heated his blood completely cooled, anger taking its place instead.
"You can't give me what they have," he shot back. They were so off script right now, he knew they weren't even talking about the Wonderland civil war like they were supposed to be doing.
"Can I not?" she wondered archly.
"No!" he snarled, "You can't!"
Catherine smiled at him, an impish light shinning in her eyes, as if she was partaking of a private joke he wasn't privy to.
And at that moment he knew they were no longer talking about anything to do with the skit they were supposed to be enacting to promote the recently released Through the Looking Glass Graphic novel.
Suddenly furious at Catherine for poking at this particular open wound and for knowing exactly how to push that exacting pain to its limit, Donatello snapped, "I hate you." Realizing what he had just said he stared at her in horror, the blood draining from his face as he stammered, "I-I-"
Catherine burst into surprised laughter, a grin crossing her face that was full of mischievous, gleeful delight as if he hadn't just said something horribly inappropriate to his sister-in-law; words that would likely earn him a sound beating from his older, red-masked brother.
Clawed fingers scraped across his cheek and he flinched away automatically. "Your brother said much the same thing to me once," she purred. "Now look at him," she replied smugly and made a motion with her hand.
Raphael stepped out from behind the throne and Donatello felt his jaw fall open in shock.
His brother wore no shirt, his scars and metal prosthetic bared to see. He still wore his red mask, but his arms, carapace and plastron were all painted with black sigils and curved Celtic knots and tribal tattoos.
"R-Ra-Rònàn?" he stammered in surprise, remembering at the last minute his brother's character's name.
Staring in shock, he was unable to believe that his brother was walking around without a shirt on, his lower half swathed in black leather pants that looked to have been painted on.
Raphael crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the surrounding members of the Court, a low, warning growl rumbling in his chest which caused Beowulf to growl dangerously in turn.
The assembled court stepped back, horror and fear evident on the faces of creatures that were mostly inhuman.
Finally Raphael's gaze fell upon him and Donatello was barely able to restrain the whimper of fear that bubbled up his throat.
Raphael, his eyes molten pools of fury, incinerated him on the spot. Catherine cast Donatello a final look before she sauntered, swayed or whatever the right word for 'walked with sultry intent' towards Raphael, completely distracting his infuriated brother from no doubt doing him actual physical harm.
"You only get to kill him if I say so," Catherine intoned teasingly, but her voice carried with it a warning. "Right now, that troublesome mortal child Alice has secured the affections of your oldest sibling, and the loyalty of the other, thus I have need of your remaining, unaffiliated brother."
Donatello knew this was Catherine's way of telling them both to remember what they were supposed to be doing and to get back to the script.
Taking a steadying breath, he focused on his brother. "Rònàn," he pleaded at Raphael, "you can't be serious! An alliance with the Dark Queen?!" he exclaimed, hoping his acting skills weren't as bad as he thought they were. "She slaughtered our kind by the thousands, and now you stand at her side?!"
Raphael continued to glare daggers at him but finally he answered. "She killed everyone we knew, our friends, our families, but you know what, we begged and pleaded with the White Queen and her Seelie Court, with anyone who would agree to take the Dark Queen on, and not one of them helped us," Raphael countered, his voice filled with fury, anguish and hatred and Donatello blinked in shock at his brother's performance. Raphael was good, and not only that, Raphael was enjoying himself.
A month ago when Elizabeth had posed the idea of promoting the graphic novel, Donatello and Leonardo had been dubious, Michelangelo had of course been all in.
Elizabeth had outlined the promotion as happening during the New York Masque of the Courts Halloween Ball. It was a good fit and the organizers of the Ball were interested in creating a bigger and better event and being able to use the characters from the Raven's new graphic novel would bring in more people as well as a new demographic.
Although not following the actual line of the story in the graphic novel, the characters were all there, with the addition of his brothers, each given a starring role in the 'Court' of each respective side.
As with previous years, the larpers moved freely about the cordoned off area, though this year, large screens had been set up to allow the players to see what was going on in each Court, which was completely scripted, but as in previous years, only the key players knew what was going to happen.
Being one of the key players, Donatello fell into this category and had grudgingly accepted his role, as did Leonardo. They knew that Elizabeth would play Alice and Sabrina was the White Queen who ruled the Seelie court, but what had surprised them was that Catherine and Raphael were going to come to New York to join in the Ball with Catherine as the Queen of Hearts.
None of them could be upset at this, not having seen either for a few months following the wedding, which made having to act and memorize lines somehow worth it, even if it was extremely embarrassing.
"So, yeah," Raphael continued, "I sided with her, 'cause she can offer me what the White Queen and Alice can't," he paused for dramatic effect. "Revenge."
"She's twisted your mind," Donatello said softly. "She's tempted you with false promises and seduced you away from the light."
"Maybe," Raphael agreed with a shrug, "but I don't care. What did the light ever do for me? If this is what it's like to be seduced by the dark, then I'll fight for her until my dying breath." Raphael's heated gaze found the dark Queen's. "She can give you power, revenge, a purpose, whatever you want, and all it'll cost you is a pledge of loyalty to her."
"And my soul," Donatello argued.
"It's worth it," Raphael replied his tone leaving no doubt about where his loyalty lay.
The Queen smiled and shot one last lustful glance of her own towards Raphael before turning that smoldering look upon him.
Donatello took a nervous step back as the Queen of Hearts approached him; sex, lust and temptation drifting around her as she moved.
"Your brother is my Consort –my lover-" she informed him huskily, "and he leads the terrifying and brutal faerie Host," she told him with a voice as smooth and sinful as silk. "I can offer you a position by my side, a place in my bed and the leadership of the fearsome and savage Wild Hunt."
"And if I refuse?" he ground out as she invaded his personal space.
She stepped into him, her cheek brushing across his as she purred in his ear, "You die."
"It doesn't seem as though I have much of a choice," he bit out.
The Queen pulled back slightly and smiled, her lips almost brushing his. "That is not an answer that I will accept. I need your unwavering fealty. I need to know that you will die for me."
"And I need to know you won't kill me when I outlive my usefulness."
The Queen chuckled, her sharp canines flashing with dangerous mirth. "I can't guarantee your life, but I can give you what you long for," her voice deepened. "Answer me this: which pain hurts worse, that I thought your kind to be a danger to my throne and thus I eliminated them for my own protection, or that those who you believed were your allies -your friends- abandoned you to my brutality?"
Donatello stared at her for a moment, carnal lust with a hint of danger rolling off of her in waves, and he pretended to contemplate her question.
He looked away as if he could not look at her anymore, or if he couldn't bear what was truly in his heart.
The Queen stepped into him and again her lips were by his ear, her warm body pressed up against his. "Fall into the dark, little muir-seilche*," she tempted. "Tell me what it is that you desire."
"I want…" he struggled as if conflicted. "I want to see their blood run crimson upon the battlefield," he began softly. "I want to hear their screams as I heard the screams of my kind as they were slaughtered around me," his voice darkened and became stronger. "I want them to suffer," he snarled and the Dark Queen threw back her head, her satisfied, maniacal laughter filling the night air.
"Your fate rests in my hands," the Dark Queen intoned seriously. "Welcome, to the Court of the Unseelie," she said in a satisfied voice as he stared down at her, someone in the background yelling 'cut'.
Movement around him broke him from his trance and he was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug.
"Thank you, Donatello, for being such a good sport," Catherine said him with a bright smile, the sensual tone of her voice gone, her demeanour returned to normal as if she had thrown a switch.
"Um…you're welcome?" he asked awkwardly as she quickly removed the iron shackles from his wrists.
Catherine laughed and Donatello smiled, before quickly stepping away from her before Raphael decided to redecorate the stage with his blood.
"Donny." Raphael's hand clamped around his shoulder and spun him around. Raphael's eyes were golden slits of rage, his posture murderous. "You-"
Catherine pried Raphael's hand loose and shoved Beowulf's silver leash into his hand instead. "Come on, Donatello," Catherine said as she sent Raphael a warning look that had his brother scowling, his eyes still burning with anger. "You don't have much time," she told him. "You need a wardrobe change and you need to go into make-up," Catherine informed him, shooing him away. "Go to trailer six."
"Trailer six," he repeated with a nod and a silent 'thank you' thrown her way as he scurried out of his brother's line of sight.
Rounding the corner, he leaned against the wall and let out a pent up breath, knowing he had escaped certain death by inches. Raphael had either heard his improvised conversation with Catherine and took exception to it or he hadn't liked the fact that Catherine was essentially trying to seduce him; even if it wasn't real.
Dragging his hands down his face, he pushed off from the wall, still feeling out of sorts.
He was glad to be able to do this for Catherine, Elizabeth, and Sabrina. They had helped his family so much and had been instrumental in bringing a great deal of happiness into their lives, but he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to manage the next few hours. He felt oddly pulled, like an elastic band that was already stretched taunt and ready to snap at any moment.
His conversation with Catherine had stripped him bare and he felt raw. She was asking him to have hope that somehow he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life alone and unloved, but he couldn't give into that false promise.
He dealt in facts and the fact was that he wasn't going to just bump into-
Colliding at that moment with a small form, he reacted out automatically, grabbing her around the waist before she fell to the ground.
"Wow, nice moves," the young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman said as she straightened the headset she was wearing.
"Uh…thanks," he replied uncomfortably as he held her just that little bit too long. Realizing this he stammered out and apology and righted her, still uneasy with being around so many humans and pretending he was just a guy in a turtle-esque kind of suit.
She gave him a bright smile before glancing down at the clipboard she held in her hands. "Okay, good, the purple one, I was looking for you," she said looking back up at him. "You're supposed to be in trailer six."
"Right…um. I don't know where…" his voice tailed off.
"I'll show you where it is," she told him, motioning for him to follow.
"Thanks," he told her shyly as he walked beside her.
"Not a problem," she waved his thanks away. "It's kinda my job," she answered. "I'm Beth, I'm the assistant coordinator. I'm the one in charge of making sure all the principle cast members are where they are supposed to be when they are supposed to be."
He nodded in acknowledgement.
"So you and the Queen huh?" she asked him and he blinked at her.
"Huh?" he asked in confusion.
"Well, it's totally obvious that you and the Queen are a thing, it's cool," she answered and he groaned inwardly. He was a dead turtle when Raphael got his hands on him.
"We aren't," he answered firmly.
"Hmm," she said chewing on the end of her pen. "Well then they got some serious quality actors this year because you could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife."
He cringed inwardly as he got confirmation of his imminent death at the hands of his brother.
"Of course," she continued completely unaware that he was watching his life flash before his eyes, "this year is sooo much better than last year," she observed. "Last year sucked, The year before that was pretty good though, with the Fairy Queen. She was really good. And they say," she leaned in whispering, "that the chick who plays the Queen of Hearts this year is the Fairy Queen from two years ago. And I mean it's totally possible. But you know who the chick is who plays the Queen of Hearts this year, right?" she suddenly asked him.
Donatello wondered if he should tell her the truth, not knowing if he was supposed to reveal that sort of thing, since unlike in previous years, the names of the actors were not available.
"But she probably isn't," she answered her own question thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure the Raven got the same two models who were pictured in the graphic novel, so they probably aren't the same."
"I-" he began, but she continued to talk as if he hadn't tried to answer.
"But it doesn't matter, like I said, this year is awesome. The budget we have to deal with is crazy and we completely sold out this year which has never happened. It's too bad it will probably only be a onetime deal with the promotion of the comic and all, but maybe the Raven plans on releasing the next graphic novel next year at the same time and if he did that it's almost like free publicity. I mean, this is actually a pretty big undertaking for something that's so Indy. But I guess since the novel came out and with his other comic, he's getting a little bit more exposure and I hear that Marvel and DC are sniffing around."
Donatello wondered where the woman got her information from because as far as he knew, Catherine hadn't mentioned anything about being approached by the two comic book giants. Though to be honest, he hadn't had much of a chance to talk to her since she and Raphael only arrived a few days ago, staying in the Brownstone with Elizabeth and Sabrina, and all of their time together had been taken up with rehearsals and planning for the Ball.
"I don't-" he began again.
"Well, here we are." She turned to face him pointing at a large fifth wheel that was parked in a deserted corner of a treed area of Central Park. "You have twenty minutes and then you need to get to the stables."
"Stables?" he gaped in shock.
"Sure, you're Lord of the Wild Hunt, you get to ride on a horse, along with the Queen and the red one."
Donatello noted that he was annoyed at Raphael being referred to as the 'red one,' as she had earlier referred to him as the 'purple one,' but he was too surprised by the information she had just imparted to really acknowledge this.
"See you in a few," she waved and strode back the way they had come.
Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, his shoulders slumped in dejection. Beth wasn't the first woman he had talked to this evening, but most of them had been larpers who were in character, so he hadn't had a real chance to get to know any of them. Beth had been the first woman who wasn't playing a role and though he could admit that she was pretty, there hadn't been that spark of something there.
The door to the trailer suddenly opened behind him.
"Are your ears bleeding yet?" a teasing voice asked from behind him and he turned around to see a woman standing in the doorway of the trailer.
He found himself staring at her feeling slightly stunned. Her doe brown eyes were large and her light brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail at the back of her head, allowing for a few strands to fall around and frame her sun kissed face.
"What?" he asked stupidly and the woman chuckled.
"Don't get me wrong, that woman is good, she can organize anything to within an inch of its life, but she will talk your ear off if you let her."
He stared at her, suddenly tongue tied.
"You must me Donal, right?" she asked.
"Right," he said with a nod, the sound of his character's name finally jolting him back to reality.
Elizabeth thought it would be best to stick as close to their real names as possible, since it wasn't as if they were professional actors and if their names were mentioned she wanted to make sure they didn't forget to respond. Adding a Celtic flair, Leonardo became Leon, Michelangelo-Mikael, Raphael – Rònàn (because he thought is sounded badass and close to Ronin, the moniker for a samurai with no master, and Donatello had barely been able to hide a smile since Rònàn meant 'seal' as in the cute water mammal) and Donatello had become Donal.
"Great," the woman said cheerily. "I'm Gwen, we don't have much time, so let's get started," she said as she turned and went back up the stairs and into the trailer.
Swallowing, he placed his foot on the metal bottom step, not really knowing what he was getting into, but not having much of a choice in the matter.
*muir-seilche (if my sources are correct), means turtle in Celtic
LOL awh poor Donny, I have a feeling this night is going to be a little rough for him;)