war has begun, and if they're not careful, a fatality will tear them down.
NO SMUT OR SEXUALIZING ━ if any of the triplets are uncomfortable with this fanfiction, it will be taken down immediately.
matt sturniolo x fem! oc x chris sturniolo (LOVE T...
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𝖑𝖎𝖝. Maeve's Catalyst
Maeve
IT'S NIGHTFALL when they reach Ascendant, gliding through the mountains in almost pitch darkness. Maeve tries not to think about being smashed against the black slopes. But the pilots are skilled, landing the airjet on the alpine runway with ease. The rest of Montfort's Air Fleet, as well as the transport convoys carrying the bulk of their army, is down on the plain.
Cyrus, Dawson, their attendants, and Maeve make the trek into the city in silence, walking the steps beneath an arc of glittering starlight. The Deuveux girl watches the sky as they go, trying to name the constellations. She refuses to think about either Sturniolo brother. Not the one they left in Norta, nor the one marching with them, bound in chains, held at gunpoint. He chatters occasionally, asking questions about Montfort. No one answers, and his voice dies slowly, left to echo into nothing. Before they reach the premier's home, Chris is taken away, down another flight of steps, where more guards appear to flank him. Montfort won't risk losing another prisoner. And Chris certainly won't get the gentle treatment given to Baraka's children. He'll be taken deep into the city, to the prison below the Ascendant main barracks. Maeve tries not to watch his silhouette as it grows smaller and smaller. He never looks back.
Cyrus outpaces everyone, even Weston and his long strides. Maeve doesn't have to be a mind reader to guess her thoughts are of her daughter, left behind with the rest of their family.
Dawson was good enough to send word on ahead, so his palatial home is ablaze when they approach, the many windows and balconies lit by warm candles and lights. Familiar figures cast shadows across the stones, and they beeline for them. Maeve's mother hands off Campbell, the baby girl sleepy but smiling as Cyrus lifts her up. Out of the corner of her eye, Maeve sees Dawson embrace his husband, Cardan, before her mother does the same to her. Her arms squeeze Maeve's shoulders tightly, and she hugs her daughter close to her chest with a deep sigh. Maeve relaxes as she only can with the rest of her family, letting them usher herself and the others inside and up to their rooms.
Cyrus disappears into her own bedroom, Campbell on her hip, with an exhausted smile. No one stops her. She needs time alone with her daughter, and they're all happy to give it.
Nick excuses himself, too. Maeve doesn't blame him. He's lost another brother ━ again. She doesn't miss the nod Weston gives him, suggesting he'll be there with him soon enough.
Instead, Maeve's family filters onto the tiled terrace, which is bursting with more flowers than she remembers. Archer heaves himself into a white lawn chair, and Emira perched on the arm of it. Maeve sits down next to them both, content to sit on a flat, squashy cushion set on the tile.
