When one woke up early enough, when the sky was a gradient of blues still fighting the inevitable yellow, one would witness fog surrounding the mansion. It sprawled as far as the eyes could see and devoured the fields of green, turning something familiar into something far more. Something just shy out of reach. Close enough, but not enough.

Susan stood amid the fog, beyond the gardens behind the mansion. Her head tilted to the sky, hair unbound and eyes closed. Bare feet flat on the earth with toes digging into the wet soil. The hem of her sleeping gown and coat soaked by morning dew.

She stood there existing. Just existing.

Here. Now.

Just for this moment and perhaps for every one that followed where fate allowed without demanding a return.

Here. A sky that was still in every possible shade of blue. A world that still had birds singing to welcome the morn. Now. A morning that was still the spilling of light from the lid that was the horizon. A transition that was still from silence to sound.

"You know, Rovilyn will kill me." Susan opened her eyes and chuckled, turning to Maugrim who she knew stood by her side. "'The goal is to get your sleeping pattern to at least your norm, Su.'"

Maugrim tilted his head and moved an ear.

She chuckled again. "'A three hour sleep was more than my usual norm, Rovi.' Then, she'll give me a look that meant she clearly knew I'm lying."

She stretched her arms over head and moaned. Sluggish body. Hyperactive mind.

"Then, I'll tell her, 'I'm making progress though!'" Progress. She grew quiet after that statement. Her gaze dropping to the ground and her lungs squeezing a sigh. "I wonder if I am making progress."

Maugrim made a small sound, moving to nudge her hand with his muzzle.

"I cannot break again."

Susan smiled at his concern.

"I will not."

She reached out to pet his head.

"I should not."

The goal was already set and the requirements were just waiting to be fulfilled. All she had to do was what's needed to be done. To take every step on the path already laid before her.

To build the Queen, Sister and Spy, that this world in time would need.

She had done this before, hadn't she? She could do it again. It was out of question.

She had to.

"Yoohoooo."

Susan's head snapped up. Maugrim was already crouched low ready for what was to happen next. She didn't even notice him shift.

"Susaaaaaan. That's you right? I'm not talking to a mansion ghost?" A figure stepped out of the garden and into the fields. "Ah. You are here! Nice. Good morning to you and to you too, Mogmog."

Maugrim whined at the nickname.

"Lucia. You're early." Susan pulled her coat together and approached the woman. "Didn't you leave late yesterday? You were still here when I arrived."

"Yup. I don't mind. Reuben and I decided that we come in early so we have time to prepare for the meeting later."

"Which is after lunch." Susan looked at the sky. "It's shy 6 am."

"Really?" Lucia pulled out her phone and raised her eyebrows. "Would'ya look at that? 5:43 am."

Susan's own phone weighed heavy in her coat's deep pockets, and she had to push the urge to check and confirm.

"Anyway. You underestimate our competitiveness against actual runway company fashion designers."

Susan could only shake her head at that. She understood what they meant and their why. She was the one wandering around in what could be considered a godforsaken hour in relation to how many hours of sleep she got. "So, how can I help?"

"Ah! The accessories finally arrived and we want to check if they fit you and your feedback on them. Come on!"

"I haven't even changed clothes."

Lucia pocketed her phone and scanned her with a look. "Brushed your teeth?"

"Of course."

"Then you're way above the worst we've experienced. Come on."

The trip was short, spent in yawn-broken silence. Not Susan's, but she was definitely aware and affected by the lethargy in the air. It hugged her from behind and set its head on her shoulder, as if asking time to freeze in these sterile hallways. It was only when they reached their destination that it even loosened its hold and Susan had to push it away to be once more aware.

The place was large and filled with fabrics, sewing machines, and mannequins. Corkboards with pinned sketches and swatches of colors on the walls. Wide tables were set close to said walls and the center was an open area filled by the most recent works in progress. Around the far back of the room, Reuben was hunched over a table looking over what Susan could only assume were the accessories while typing on a laptop. He looked rumpled from where she was, but the closer she got, sleep deprived and tired were added. Not only because of the dark circles around his eyes, but also the amount of sugar packets on the table.

"Please tell me you at least had breakfast."

"Yep." Lucia plopped into her seat and rolled close to the table. She reached out to the ornate chest and pulled it closer to her. Reuben's hand snapped out and grabbed it, only to pause and look away from the laptop. His surprise warping to annoyance with what he saw. "Good morning!"

Reuben bit the inside of his cheeks for a moment, before letting out a sigh and letting go. "Good morning, again, Lucia. I told you to not do that again."
"There are no scissors, cutters, needles or knives around. I checked." Lucia motioned to Susan.

"Still."

"I'm okay, Reuben. I also won the bet, so everything's good!"

"There was no bet."

"Still, I won."
"There was no competition."

"Still."

"It's not a win if-"

"Still."

"Did you eat breakfast, Reuben?" Susan intervened with amusement, knowing that these two can drive each other to frustration really quick.

"I had coffee." And that was that. Conversation closed and done. He motioned to the chest and went back to his laptop. "Check if it fits and if it's within your tastes. Since we're not showing you the dress in any way."

"Nope. Definitely not showing." Lucia piped in.

Susan nodded and pulled the chest closer to her, surprised at the considerable weight. Upon opening, awe. One by one, she lifted each compartment and laid them out. Bracelets. Arm bands. Anklets. Hair combs. Rings. Each piece a bejeweled structure of purple to blue flowers. It was a gorgeous collection of simplicity that existed with undeniable elegance. One by one she put them on, sometimes struggling a bit with some complicated latches. There was one though that she couldn't wear because of the buckles.

"Lucia, can you-" The woman was nowhere to be found. She didn't even notice her leave. Reuben, however, was already reaching out to help. "Ah. Thank you."

"Is it comfortable?" She hummed in agreement, shaking her other hand and letting the bracelets clink together. He rubbed his fingers on her skin, looking close. "No digging or itching?"

"None."

"Heavy?"
"Nothing I cannot handle."

Susan raised her hand and watched how the light hit the bracelet's jewels.

"Stand up. Stand up. Give us a twirl!" Lucia returned bearing a bag.

Susan chuckled and indulged her, standing and then twirling around in one foot. The faint clinks almost like bells.

"No allergy? Discomfort?" Lucia set down the bag by Reuben's side and without missing a beat, he's already checking what's inside.

"None at all. I like them. I definitely like the anklets."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh Susan, you are a blessing." Lucia plopped back on her seat and relaxed. "We haven't had a 'surprise me with the rest' project in so long. It's been white tie parties, for how long now Reuben?"

He looked up from his laptop, a sandwich held between his teeth. He finished his bite, chewed and gulped the piece. "Half a year at least. We did remake some costumes and pieces."

"How about personal pieces? Cosplay? Do you do cosplay pieces?" Susan pulled out her phone and sat down, watching their expressions. Reuben's eyes brightened and Lucia straightened. "You do."

"Definitely. I have clients. Lucia cosplays herself."

"Would it be okay to ask for feedback on something?" She showed them her phone, the picture Olivia sent, displayed.

Lucia leaned in, another giant smile on her face. "Oooooooh. Look at that lovely form."

"Did you design this?" Reuben pushed her head away a bit to be able to get a good look.
Susan shook her head. "The children of Ursa's secretary. I wanted to get some feedback on improvement since I can see that they have the talent and passion for it. Some help on the technical aspects would be appreciated."

And, oh, she definitely got it and it was a lovely experience.

"Anything else?" Even with the sarcastically cheery tone, Mordred reviewed the information he gave, both in written and spoken form, to make sure that he didn't miss anything. This was something he made sure he did correctly every single time. "Just to make sure. The moment I step out of here, I'm officially on break."

He loved reminding them of that, especially when it came to the rare times they still called on him during said breaks. Where he said no to. Where he said fuck no to.

"Your final reports are always the most reliable." Arthur commented, raking his gaze one more time on the physical copy. "Nothing more, Mordred. These were clean cut missions."

"Merlin?"

"None. See you in a month."

"Come on, Merl." Francis stood and reached out to pat his shoulder, enjoying the open distaste and the way he leaned away. "I know you miss me. You always do."

"Hardly."

"You're bitchy 'cause you're going to miss me so much, your heart can't take it."

Francis pulled back and sighed, letting Merlin glare a hole in his being. It was gone in a few moments, as usual. Harry gave a soft chuckle before standing up from his own seat. "Lunch then?"

"You're no Kingsman starting now, find your meals outside."

"I am. Outside this office."

He smiled wide and as angelic as he could to the deadpan.

"Curious, Maugrim's yet to come to announce lunch."

"Why would Grim come? Is he delivering meals for you too, Harry?"

"Susan has been cooking for the last few days. They come around to either ask for any preferences or just to announce that it's lunch."

"Well, they're late at this point. Maybe they knew we were in a debrief?"

"Maybe."

They stepped out of the room and went to the kitchen, only to find Hamlet drinking tea.

Hamlet.

The shift from excitement to disappointment took a blink, and Francis put all the blame on Harry and Merlin. He made sure it was obvious when Hamlet gave them all a raised brow.

"How dare you all look at me like I haven't been feeding you for years."

"Not my fault. I was looking forward to it."

"She told me last night that she was going to be busy." Hamlet sighed and motioned his tea cup at Merlin. "Pick her up. I should've known that you're the same ilk. I've texted her. Maugrim's with her. Still, nothing."

"I'll pick her up. Just tell me where she is, Merl."

Merlin was no longer on his spot and was already halfway to the door.

Francis stared. The last time he was around to see Merlin and Susan interact was when she invited him to the game night that turned into a sleepover. During that time, he knew that Merlin was still very wary of Susan, even when she was reaching out to him in as many ways as she could. What happened while he was gone? Given, he was away for a while with how he had been finishing one mission after another because of the break. It was his norm to not return to HQ until everything's done. All he knew was that she was continuously in missions ever since the first.

"Are you coming?"

He snapped out to see Merlin looking at him over his shoulder.

"Of course." Without even a look back, he followed.

The moment they descended underground, he broke the silence. "How is she?"

"Good. She managed to rattle Eggsy during the first mission and got more than what we planned and expected."

"What scared our cinnamon roll boy?"

"Her laughter while listening to a man being tortured by fire."

"And then?"

Merlin told him. Francis was more than sure that it was far from everything, but it was enough to get a grasp of what happened and the current situation. It was also enough for him to form further opinion to their current Guinevere.

It was also enough for him to ask, "Are you sure of this?"

"We're too far and too deep at this point to ask."

"You'll make sure she comes back alive."

"Without question."

They found Susan in one of the training rooms, standing in the middle of moving dummies. A bow in her hands. A quiver full of arrows strapped on her back. She moved with familiarity. The mere act of reloading the arrow to shooting it was smooth, but as smooth as it was, her accuracy was off. Most of the dummies were hit, yes, but those she missed were detrimental enough that if they were enemies, she would be severely injured.

An alarm rang, then came a high whine. Francis caught sight of Maugrim putting his paws over his snout as he laid on his stomach. Another whine. The alarm lasted a full minute, but it didn't deter her to even giving a pause. She only stopped when the session ended, all the moving dummies halting and moving back to their original positions. Frustration clear in her tension.

"Bravo! Bravo!" He called out, succeeding in stopping her from setting up a new round. Another shift. Frustration to delight.

"Francis!" She unstrapped her quiver and stowed it together with her bow to a side table, nary a click or a clack. He opened his arms to her and without any hesitation, she rushed to him.

Pevensie wrapped her arms around Francis' waist and Francis in turn hugged her close. He buried his nose to her hair and sniffed. "You smell."

She pulled back far enough that he held her arms on his sides. No longer hugging, but still connected and touching. Then, she turned up her own nose. "Of flowers and rain."

"Of course. A queen shan't smell of anything foul."

She chuckled. "How're you?"

"Officially on break."

"Wounds? Injuries?"

Merlin felt a nudge on his leg and forced himself to look away from the scene before him. Maugrim nudged again, impatience on his face. The dog must've been disappointed at not being able to do his lunch responsibility, especially when his owner instilled it to him as a priority. He reached out and ran his fingers through his fur, patting his head every now and then. His gaze then turned to the training area and took note of the arrows, what body part they were embedded on, and their depth.

"Fatigue?"

"Su, I made sure to sleep in before I came back. Even if I didn't sleep in, I'd have plenty of time now that I'm on break. I didn't know you do archery."

"I did, back in my school days. What're your plans for Eunice's birthday?"

"Aplenty. I hope you have your gift prepared. You promised."

"Of cou-"

"How old were you when you started?"

"… Twelve."

That delay made Merlin look back at them.

"Here I thought you were some sort of prodigy." Francis' expression was ever amiable, not a twitch misplaced. It was more than obvious that he was digging and pushing. Testing with what little Merlin shared of the current situation.

Pevensie pulled away, slipping her arms and stepping back even when Francis held her through the motion. "I never was one."

Susan Pevensie told him she was a liar, and Merlin was understanding the how of that statement bit by bit. Especially when he had Rovi's statement of her honesty to compare it to.

"So why are you here?"

Maugrim scoffed loud that Pevensie's smile faltered.

"What he said." Francis grinned.

Her expression said that she wasn't completely sure Maugrim and Francis were saying the same thing. Whatever it was Francis thought she heard from Maugrim was way different than what she actually heard. In that space of time, it was so clear. A moment that passed quickly, making it look like she was merely in thought. She reached out again and was met halfway until she was hugging the dog. "I'm so sorry, dearest. What exactly did you say?"

Pevensie was always reaching out. She was always open and inviting. She was always compelling.

And everyone was meeting her halfway.

Except Merlin.

"Lunch, Pevensie." Except him. "Clean this up after if you're done with your archery, but right now, it's time to drag you away for some food."

Surprise. Worry. A pale hand lifted away from the dog's fur and her body followed, straightening and gravitating to his direction. A small half step. Blue eyes seeking to meet his own. "Hamlet?"

"He's fine. He cooked lunch as his norm. And we know how to cook."

And like that she pulled back. "Perfect. Treat me to dinner sometime."

Susan Pevensie, coming into a room with only her presence that couldn't be denied or ignored. Making everyone look and be aware. Making everyone that looked away feel her presence to the point that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy to look back. To read the invitation on her smile. To come closer.

And that she's waiting.

"Doubtful. Come on." Merlin stepped back to the hallway and turned to lead-retreat.

"We can cook together, Su! Since I missed your cooking and I'm not as busy as everyone."

"I wouldn't say no to that, but for now, lunch?"

"At your command, Your Highness."

"Majesty."

Merlin could see it so clearly in his mind's eye. A small touch of Pevensie's hand to Francis' elbow. A raised brow that was more pronounced than her small smirk. A slight bow from Francis and without any hesitation, he would wrap her arm around his. His smirk wide, enjoying every moment of that small correction.

Merlin carried on walking.

Thrice. They've only touched each other thrice and compared to how tactile Susan was with the others, it was nothing. Yet, his skin burned in memory. Comfort. Offered with only a whisper and accepted with a grunt. Her hand wrapped around a junction of his neck and shoulder. Thumb pressed hard against his spine. Desperation. Denied and trapped beneath the skin. Her hands clawing into his arms, demanding and seeking. Confusion and loss in those blue eyes. Here, but not here. Healing. A lazy warmth against his fingertips. An act that was unplanned and unthought, that resulted to something more than he expected.

He entered the elevator and turned to wait for them. A little, just a little bit, surprised at how far they were still.

They were talking in low voices, arm in arm still with Maugrim trotting beside his master. Still smiling. Still bright eyed.

And as if feeling his gaze, she turned.

"You make me envious because I have short legs." She spoke loud enough to cover the distance. "And that I am incredibly small."

"Hardly incredibly. Roxy's the same height." He could banter with her. They've done so aplenty. From mission details to just mere comments of every day. He had made her smile, laugh and pout. He had triggered her eyes to blaze and chill from annoyance to determination.

"She wears higher heels."

"Not my fault then." He looked down at her feet and found them ballet shoe clad. "Catch up, Pevensie. I'm starving."

She sagged against Francis with a sigh and wrapped her other arm around his as well. Francis steadied her and raised a brow at him.

"Oh no. Oh, dear no. My legs are so tired and shaking." Her smile was wide. Teeth bright. Her eyes, even at the distance between them, were egging him. Merlin was sure. "You go on. Go on. Let me just slump here and-"

"Pevensie. Doona make me come there and haul you like a sack of tatties."

"I'm making you." I know you won't.

He could step out of the elevator and watch how her expression would warp and to what it would become. He could approach and make true of what he said, even just a part of it.

He stepped forward and immediately caught the shift in her stance. Expectation.

"Aye right." He pressed the close button of the elevator and in the next moment, he heard her giggles. It filled the elevator for a few moments before the walls swallowed the sounds.

He let her win. In this, he always let her win.

"Where are they?" Harry asked as soon as Merlin finally got to sit down and start his meal.

"They were walking too slow."

"Of course."

Harry and Hamlet shared a look. Merlin didn't miss it, but openly ignored it.

"Olivia?"

The secretary looked up from her work and couldn't help the delight on her face. "Mornin' Miss Sullivan! I've sent the reminder email to everyone for the test run and they've replied affirmative."

"Thank you. Would you like to join us for lunch?"

"Us? Is that okay? Mr. Sullivan called to check on you and asked that you call him back. Would it be him?"

"No. Not him. If you're okay and free, bring along the plans and the files. We'll join some of the designers for lunch and go straight to the test run."

Designers. Olivia had worked with many designers, but all of them were in strict business settings. She was there in meetings, there to arrange lunches when needed, there to record the details settled during said lunches. She had read the arrangements and files that Ursa provided. She was the one that made sure that everything was set to follow said arrangements.

This wasn't anything new.

"Of course. A few moments, please." Olivia made sure that she had everything in order and that she was mentally prepared to whatever business would happen this lunch. She also made sure that she was efficient. "Should I arrange a quick reservation, Miss Sullivan?"

Ursa, looked up from her phone, eyes wide for a moment. "…No. You packed lunch, right? Did you?"

"…Yes. Should I bring it?"

"Yes! We brought our own and I think someone decided to bring take out."

"Oh." Did it mean that it's still a business meeting? Confusion and excitement battled within her. She knew what was norm and what was required, but also, she knew that Ursa was interesting in her way of being a boss. She reached out for her packed lunch in one hand and took her office issued tablet with the other. "I'm ready."

"Lovely! Come on."

Ursa looked relaxed and Olivia tried her best to read what was to come. She tried to follow the example, but the keyword was try. Her mind was already preparing and organizing things far earlier than she planned. Without a breather. The need only hiked when she noted that they're going to the studio where the test run would occur.

Everything was set up. The lights were in position. The set pieces were prepared for every round and change. Some technicians were going around double checking the wires and making sure the cords wouldn't trip anyone.

They walked past that to one of the dressing rooms and there found a folding table laid out with food and the designers snickering softly.

"Glad you can join us, Sullivan-secretary." The woman stood up and approached, opening her arms and motioning Olivia to a seat.

"Olivia, Lucia." Ursa reminded, taking her own seat.

"Our names rhyme!" Lucia was a definite ball of energy. "Did you hear that, Reuben?"

"Lucia. Olivia. Ursa." Reuben, deadpanned at Lucia. Then turned and smiled at Olivia. "Reuben Rael and Lucia Flores, a small two team freelance gig."

Olivia sat down beside Ursa. "It's a pleasure to meet you. All I had were your names and what I can find in social media."

"Do you have any feedback about what you saw?" Reuben pushed a plate of food to her. Lucia pushed a bowl as well. They're both looking at her with eagerness in their eyes, albeit in different degrees.

"Not about our selfies, though. Reuben is horrible at them. We both know that."

With what Olivia remembered about said selfies, few as they were, was that Reuben was far from horrible, but he did provide a contrast to Lucia's bubbliness. The pieces though. "They're beautiful. I took screenshots of some posts just to make sure I can remember and maybe use it for inspiration."

"Hopefully it would help your kids."

"My…kids?"

Lucia nodded hard enough that her hair bounced and the fork she had between her smiling lips bobbed against her chin. She pulled out the fork and waved it at Ursa. "She showed us that one piece and from what she told us, they're on the right track."

Was this why this lunch was a more relaxed setting? Was that why Ursa invited her specifically? Was that why Ursa asked for her favorite design in the first place?

But why?

"You do not mind, do you?" Ursa's voice had an undertone of worry, but it was overshadowed by the encouragement that overflowed.

"…It's just that, they're hardly your level of masterpieces." Olivia did her best to shed her unease and still smile wide. Pride surged within her, but it felt out of place. It felt that she shouldn't, because even if they were good, they were far from excellent. She was prepared for a discussion about the test run, not about her children.

"That is true." Reuben agreed with a seriousness that doused the pride. "For their age though, they're only bound to do way greater ones if they do desire to pursue it. Age might not be a life changing advantage, but it's still an advantage. And we're here to help."

"Why?"

"Because we want to! Among other reasons." The energy Lucia had was almost overwhelming but it's inconsistency and coming in bursts helped a bit. "We would love to brain storm and know how their minds work. And share ideas. And just talk. When Ursa showed the piece to us, she asked for advice in terms of the technical aspects. She had it all noted down before I thought that maybe we can actually meet them down the line. If we had the time, we would've searched their managed social media if they had one!"

The whole room might explode in energy and happiness during that explanation. It was almost too much that it might've sounded insincere. However, Lucia's eyes told otherwise. They were dancing and bright.

"What she said, but in fewer words." Reuben waved a hand at Lucia's direction and sighed. Their dynamic was a wonder to witness, because it was something so familiar that it's almost unreal. "Would that be agreeable for you? We're strangers, but brainstorming while having lunch is a good start."

"Then we could maybe message each other. Or meet up again!"

Olivia turned to Ursa and found her resting her head on her palm, giving them all a fond smile.

"Did you really take notes...for me and the kids?" She ventured in a low voice, a bit afraid to disturb the tranquility on her countenance.

Ursa focused. A slight pause before she answered with the same soft tone. It was almost inaudible and Olivia had to read her lips in part. "Yes. I hope you don't mind and I'm not overstepping, but they're good people. Kinder than I could ever be."

She wanted to disagree and tell her that this was more than she expected. Way more than she even imagined. She had received kindness and were given opportunities to grow, but nothing as deliberate as this. Nothing as hand crafted as this.

"Go on." Ursa nodded her head to the conversation. "Take it and run with it."

Olivia took a deep breath and smiled wide. This was for her, not only for her but also for her kids. She turned to Reuben and Lucia who had long paused their banter and were looking at her expectantly.

"Teach me."

In the end, she only ate half of her packed lunch and most of the food were repacked and set aside. The table was full of pieces of paper with designs and notes. Her phone was full of recordings and two new sets of contact details.

Olivia had to give herself a few minutes to get back to a working mindset when lunch time was over.

The impact was always that of a moving storm, with wind whipping in high speeds and thunder beating intent on shaking everything. It infected and embodied.

It filled.

Susan reveled in it, speeding through the expanse of land she took without any hesitation. Her hands tight around the reins and her torso as close to parallel to the ground. The smell of the earth, the twilight sky and her Mount were stark contrasts and similarities because at this point, she was allowed to block out everything else.

A moving storm.

She wasn't the one who labeled the image, impact or emotion and linked it to horse-riding. It was Lucy and whatever attempt she had of finding another term because she doubted was for naught. It was too fitting. A moving storm. She had seen horse-riding in a whole different light since then. Strength. Speed. Power. Flow. Control.

She steered her mount to another attempt of a sharp turn, succeeding this time around. It took her a few failures and it was a sign enough that she wasn't as good as she was.

She wasn't the best. That spot was Peter's without question. He who could outrun them in some way even with the slowest steed one can get. He who hauled himself astride running mounts without any hesitation and succeeding every time once he mastered it. Him, the first spark of lightning and the first rumble of thunder. Him, who could make any steed follow him to whatever glory, whatever end.

She released the reins with one hand and kept her grip steady with the other. Slowly, she straightened and forced herself not to be pushed back by the speed and the wind. Her memories demanded the level of ability it knew, but her body forced her to accept the current reality and her mind could, to a degree, split between logic and need. When she was able to steady herself straight without being blown away by the wind and the speed, she tightened the grip of her thighs, breathing deep all the while.

Her memories called that this should be child's play and that she had done this before.

She made another turn, nudging with that one hand and hoping that her body would relax enough that the force wouldn't be too much or too little. This time. This lap.

This time around. Again. Queen. Sister. Spy. As always. Consistently.

Even without a kingdom. Even without a family. Even without an organization.

She loosened her hand's grip around the reins and forced her deep breathing to continue.

Find a place that would always need her. Or, become that someone that would always be needed.

She let go of the reins. And by the very next moment, she was grappling to get it back. Finding purchase amid the panic. Her mind scrambling to focus on the horse's mane until it was finally able to direct the right limbs to do the right actions. To pull hard enough to signal her mount to stop. To continue to grip tight enough to not fall from said mount. To breathe.

To build.

Note:

I apologize for the delay. Life has been busy. I am still working on this fic and one other, just slowly. Thank you.