I Did Two Psych Courses Where The Professors Used Me As An Example For How They Were Wrong. The First

I did two psych courses where the professors used me as an example for how they were wrong. The first was also about memory. The professor said he was going to list off a “few” things and we were to remember “last many as possible”. He lists off a lot of things then asks whoever thinks they remember them to repeat it back. I raise my hand and start repeating back a random sequence of numbers. I pause after a bit and say I can’t remember the next two. He nods knowingly until I return to listing off numbers. I pause again and apologize because i’m pretty sure I forgot the next two. I finish listing off the numbers I remember. There are 12 different numbers on the board and 4 question marks. Professor laughs. He asks “how did you do that, did you pair them?” I respond, “what? I just remembered them like you asked?” (I was feeling like a good student). He explains that working memory only allows someone to hold 3-4 sets of information. So the ‘only’ way to remember 12 things is to make them 4 sets of things. Fucking dates. 1852, 1904, etc. And like a fool I tried to remember them one by one. We kind of blink at each other for a bit. I point out that I got 4 wrong, I couldn’t remember them. He says, “no, those ones didn’t exist. You got all 12 right.”

movies where someone hears an important message only once and retains all the details….

girl if that were me, we’d be fucked. I have to reread emails like 4 times.

Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

Ava: *grinning as she starts undressing* It’s a dirty job but I promise I’ll see it through to the end.

Beatrice: *starring in shock at Ava* What? That’s not-

Ava: *starts undressing Beatrice* I’ll see it through to the ‘end’ as many times as you want. *winks*

*Beatrice messes up for the first time*

Beatrice: My calculations are wrong?!…OHHHH FUCK ME-

Ava: Sure

On agriculture, sustainability of cities, and monocrops.

So if you've lived in the countryside, or even seen a rural village on a map, you know how it's set up. There's a road, the area around the road is peppered with houses, and then behind every house, there's several fields growing grains, beans and potatoes. Most often, there's also a little vegetable garden in the back yard, and sometimes a few chickens, goats, or a sheep. Around the fields, there are forests, and every clearing in the forest is growing something, even if it's just grass that is set to be cut into hay.

It's clear where these people's food comes from, and how big of an area it takes to grow it. It's visible just by monitoring, that for one family it takes a field of wheat, potatoes, smaller area for beans, a vegetable garden, and corn or a similar grain for their animals. It makes sense, these people have inherited the land that can feed them, and they do it. The forests are used for firewood, but also replanted, there are new trees constantly planted, and only old, dangerous and rotten trees are felled.

And then you look at a city, and it doesn't make sense. The area is more densely populated, but there are no fields, no grains, no vegetable gardens, no chickens. So how do they eat?

The answer is – the fields are elsewhere. They're planted far from view. And the food is brought to the people, instead of grown where they live. Isn't that a bit inconvenient? The people in the city don't think so. They make a lot of money, and they can have food delivered to them. But what does it take to produce the food for a densely populated city? That's where we meet agriculture.

In order to produce massive amounts of food, enough to feed an entire city, you'll need a big amount of agricultural land. And, you'll need that food produced cheaply enough, so that when people buy it, there is some profit for you as well. So, you'll want to own a big area of land that is yours to do with as you please, and you'll need big machines, so you don't have to pay for human labour, and all of the profits go to you.

Now, the big machines that harvest food do not work like human hands do – they do not differentiate one plant from another. If you want a machine to harvest your field, your field has to grow 1 single type of crop. Otherwise, your harvest will be a mess, and it will take additional, expensive work to separate usable crops from waste. So, you create massive fields with only one type of plant growing on them.

I remember looking at big fields of wheat or corn, and thinking, neat! That's so much food growing! And it looks so clean and well grown! I don't have those thoughts anymore, sadly. The reality of a whole field growing only one type of plant, is now upsetting to me.

The thing with natural, wild fields is, they feed the wildlife. They have flowers that open even in the winter and early spring, and then continue to produce different types of flowers throughout the entire season, making sure bees have food all year long. They house different insects and good bacteria, they lure in birds, worms, ants, ladybugs, grasshoppers, butterflies, bumblebees, and all kinds of beneficial, lovely bugs. If there's a presence of water, you'll find frogs, dragonflies, and much more birds, who are there to feed on the insects and pick off the caterpillars. You might find a hedgehog, a snake, a turtle in there. All are coming because there are sources of life for them in that field, plants they can eat, or plants that bugs can eat, and bugs are then delicious resource to the animals. Bugs we consider pests, are also a great food resource for the birds and the animals, and their population is monitored and controlled by all of the other animals. Plants rarely get destroyed by pests, or they evolve to defend themselves, or to attract a predator who fends off of the pests.

Now, a field of let's say, only corn, doesn't do that. The corn is pollinated by wind, and the flowers of corn do not attract the bees. They do not serve as a home to many insects, and they do not make a good resource for the wildlife – until of course, they make the corn itself, which is then attractive to the birds. But they cannot sustain life for the entire year. There's only a short window when these crops can serve as source of food.

The area where corn will be planted, has to be tilled early in the winter or spring, making sure every life-giving plant in that area, is dead. Then, corn is planted, and then often weeded or sprayed with herbicide, if any other plant manages to grow inbetween. And they will grow, because no matter how hard you try to kill every weed, seeds are carried by the wind, by the birds, buried deep into the ground, some are capable of growing back from just one single piece of root. You cannot exterminate them, except, by herbicide. And that is what happens in monocultures – in order to fight nature to the point where you establish a monoculture, you have to distribute poison for plants.

After the monocrop is harvested, the field is left barren and void of life. There are no flowers, no food for bees, no hiding places for the insects to hibernate in. Some may hibernate deep in the soil, if they have not yet gotten poisoned, but most will not even bother, as there are no food sources in the area.

Have you noticed how wild fields do not get their soil depleted and  poor at any time? Year after year, the wild plants are growing anew, never losing nutrients, never lacking food. And there's a reason for this – the wild plants are left to wither, dry, lay flat on the ground, and then decompose. The bugs, worms, bacteria and insects in the ground use them as a food source, and after going thru their digestive systems, it decomposes and becomes soil again. This way, all of the nutrients, minerals and food they took from the soil while growing, comes back around, creating fertile ground for a new season.

But monocrops do not do that. Once harvested, the soil remains depleted, the waste products of grains are usually extremely low in nutrients, there are no bugs to aid composting, the space remains empty of minerals and nutrition the plants have absorbed. So what do you do to keep growing? You have to buy the nutrients and physically distribute them all over the field, in order for the next year's crop to grow again. This almost ensures that you will have to do this again and again, and that your crops will only be able to feed on whatever you put there, and will only have the minerals you yourself have put in the soil. The soil itself becomes void of life, because it's those worms and insects and bacteria that are keeping the soil alive and healthy, they're creating an ecosystem where plants love to grow, where a healthy balance of nutrients and air and water and compost and roots is kept. Your field cannot do it. You have given the soil nothing to live off of. There is only a single crop, and it doesn't support any life in the soil. It doesn't feed the beneficial bacteria, bugs, or animals.

But you know what it does feed? The pests. There will always be some types of bugs evolved specifically to feed on your crop, and once you plant your crop over several kilometers, you have given them a perfect food source, and they will not restrain from multiplying rapidly, enjoying what you provided. Your monocrop will start getting eaten at a rapid rate, unless, you spray it with pesticide. So you do, you have to, there are no birds, predatory bugs, animals, or any other kind of natural pest control that would do the work for you or stop the pests from multiplying uncontrollably. You have to poison your monocrop in order to protect it from getting eaten away.

Wild plants are usually good at fending off diseases, because they will cross-pollinate, and some will contain disease-resistant genes that ensure that the next generation of plants will grow stronger. Your monocrop, is carefully planted so only ever one type of plant is growing, same type of seed, protected from cross-pollination, same dna. So when a disease hits, there will be no resistance. Your plants will all get infected. If it's a bit too hot, or too cold, or a disaster hits, or a new type of bacteria attacks, your plants have no way of defending themselves, or evolving into a stronger, more disease-resistant versions of themselves. You'll have to develop a different type of plant on your own, and rely on chemicals again, to stop the disease, to save your plants. This is actually the reason why bananas as we know them, are soon to be extinct, and a new variety is being developed to replace them – they've all grown sick, and there's nothing that can be done to save them, except developing a different variety that will hopefully, be resistant to that disease (but not to a new one, repeating the cycle again and again.)

So, once you've secured your giant fields of monocrops, convenient for your big machines to work and harvest, you've started to notice that you have to spray the chemicals on your fields to fertilize the soil, then to kill of weeds, then to kill off pests, then to fend off disease, and you're in fact, spending a lot of money on all these chemicals that you are now completely dependent upon. And what happens next is, these chemicals start getting more and more expensive. Maybe the seeds prices are getting higher too. And now, you're in a situation where you don't have many options. You cannot grow the same volume of food without monocrops, and you can't sustain your practice with ever-higher prices it takes to grow in this unnatural, diversity-eliminating way. In the older times, people learned to rotate their crops, allowing the land to grow some wild plants and recover from the intense use of agriculture, but now you can't afford to own land that you are not actively using for profit.

This is why agriculture is getting less and less productive, and why we keep needing new agricultural land to grow on, the soil is getting depleted, and land unusable. This also caused by the wind erosion and sun erosion. While the crops are not growing, the land is barren, tilled, and left exposed to the sun, which dries the top layer, since there are no plants covering it, and then the wind dries it even more, dissipates it into tiny particles, and turns it into dust. Without constant and consistent rain – which is rarely available, the soil gets turned into dust. This is a hard lesson learned by the 'dust bowl' example, where the agriculture combined with drought created soil erosion so intense, the people couldn't see in the times of storms due to the dust, and would often get lost in their own fields.

Soil erosion and wind erosion can be mitigated by growing 'cover crops', meaning plants are allowed to grow, or are specifically sown in the times of year where the main crop isn't growing, so the sun and the wind could not deplete the top layer of soil. The plants also help keep the soil alive with insects, worms and bacteria, and keep moisture in, more effectively than the barren land could. Another solution for gardeners is mulching, covering the soil with a layer of organic matter, it can be leaves, hay, straw, pine needles, wood bark, wood chips, anything that will decompose and create food for insects, generate a protective layers from the sun and the wind, and keeps moisture inside. In combination with this, it's important to not till the soil. Tilling exposes several layers of soil to the elements and disrupts or completely destroys the established ecosystem inside. No-till and no-dig methods are protective of the health in soil, specifically for smaller areas.

For large areas, what helps the soil stay safe and properly structured is allowing wild plants to grow, which have deep, resilient roots. You know when you grow a plant in a pot, and you pull it out, it holds the entirety of the soil together, just with the roots? That is what the wild plants are doing as well. The deeper their roots, the better structure and stability of the soil will be. Deep roots can draw the water from deep inside of the soil and keep the moisture level even in a drought. Big trees are also a factor in keeping the soil structured and safe, for example, if you keep trees on the riverbank, their roots will protect the soil from being carried away and depleted by the water. If you were to remove the trees, the water would erode the soil of the riverbanks. They also protect the soil from getting blown away by the wind.

There is a problem of decreased availability of water. We have now extracted so much water from our planet, it's getting harder to find water sources for our crops. And there are thousands of kilometers of these monocrops, making sure that no wild life species can live in that huge area that was once wilderness. This resulted in many species being threatened into extinction, if not already extinct. Bees cannot live on agricultural land, because there is no food. And all of these areas are not being used to feed the people in the cities, no. The majority of agricultural land isn't even used to grow the crops for human consumption. The plant products that the people eat is about 20-30% of all of the crops we grow. The rest is growing crops that feed the animals meant for human consumption. And these fields need to grow crops sometimes for years, until the animal is heavy enough to be used as a source of food. Reducing animal products could easily reduce the amount of monocrops we need to sustain our food sources, by big percentages. But, we're not trying to do that. Instead, the demand is steadily rising up.

Thinking of this makes me wonder if big cities are ultimately, unsustainable. Growing food to be harvested by human hands enables incredible diversity, fertilizing with compost, manure, bone powder, fish meal, and rich organic fertilizers that can be distributed over smaller areas easily. No till gardens can preserve all of the healthy bacteria, insects, worms and ecosystems in the soil. Using mulch and cover crops to protect the land from sun and wind erosion, and to keep the moisture in, can stop soil depletion in those areas, and feed and protect the wildlife and life in the soil. Animals can be used as pest control and as a method of fertilizing – if you leave chickens, pigs, or cows to graze an area and leave manure behind, they will bring fertility to the land. But, you would not be able to grow the amount of food that would feed an entire city, not without it requiring a vast amount of human labour, which would make the food expensive, and unavailable to the poorest citizens.

But, we can't get rid of cities, so we have to keep developing healthier and more soil-protecting ways to grow big amounts of food, in order to create sustainable, resilient and secure sources of food for people living in all kinds of areas. Encouraging people to change their habits and eat less beef, lamb, poultry and animal products would help significantly, since the amount of food that needs to be grown would reduce by a lot. Encouraging people to grow their own food, in rich and diversity-preserving ways, also helps cut carbon emissions by a lot, since this food no longer needs to be shipped and transported. Having people understand how their food is grown, what it takes to produce, and what is lost in the process, might inspire them to change their habits, and put more effort into reducing waste. Because even after destroying all that wildlife and diverse ecosystems – 20 to 30% of that food is simply thrown away. Food that people grow themselves is most often, never thrown away, because then it is a prized produce, something they worked hard on, something they treasure. In case of a spoiled produce, it gets composted right back into the soil, making the waste non-existent.

Home grown food is often at least somewhat affected by bugs and pests, and that is normal. It's a sign of the food being healthy, unpoisoned, and obviously a great food source, since the bugs are all for it. I've noticed home-gardeners, who understand how pests work, feel skeptical about the store-bought food, just because it being so pest free is in fact, unnatural. 'What did you do to it, so the bugs didn't want it?' opens up the answers of how far one needs to go to make the produce undesirable and uninteresting to bugs. You need to go as far as convince them that this is not a good food source anymore. And the bugs acknowledge it, and go find food elsewhere. And we often have no choice, but to buy that exact same food.

Food grown for selling in stores has proved to be less nutritious, grown merely for the visual appeal, storage and transportation, rather than taste. This is why, after eating store-bought produce, homegrown will taste infinitely better, sweeter, with more intense flavour and noticeably better nutrition.

What we'll need to do is spread awareness, learn about the cost of our food, and change our habits to make it less damaging on the planet. We can also try growing food. Make barren areas into wildlife again. Build ponds to attract birds, animals and bugs. We can try making diverse no-till gardens where all of the different varieties grow on top of each other, together with flowers and weeds and mushrooms. Make it a place for birds, ladybugs and bees to gather. Make it friendly to little mice, frogs, lizards and butterflies. We might just help save some of the dying species on this planet.

Another really good way is antiques. Which, if your vampire is not an accountant, they may be a pack rat. Pick things up in one lifetime, bury them in a secure underground bunker/capsule. Come back in 2-3 lifetimes and see what’s worth anything. Plus, that way the vampire can ‘die’ without a will and have their property go missing only for it to ‘turn up’ a couple states away in a storage unit that was sold for late fees. Depends how lavishly that vampire wants to live, I guess. 

Alright, just how would a vampire keep their finances intact and accessible over hundreds of years?

I don’t think there’s any legal impediment to this. The main issue is their ID, but they would need to periodically change their identity over time. All they’d need to do is transfer their money around from their “old” identity to their “new” one when they transition. How to do that without paying a lot of taxes and/or getting audited? For that you’d probably have to ask a @scriptaccountant if we have one ;)

It would have been fine, if not for the prophecy. Ava hates very few things but the prophecy is definitely one of them. Before the prophecy Shannon was Aunt Suzanne’s heir. All the responsibility for leading the kingdom fell on her. Ava spent her days roaming around doing whatever pleased her in the moment. Painting at the coast one week and learning a Gallien flourish to disarm an armed opponent the next. The world was hers and she relished it. Then the Oracle interpreted the prophecy. 

Ava is to be the next Queen and she will lead the kingdom to prosperity unseen in a dozen generations. No pressure. Aunt Suzanne looks as disbelieving as Ava’s sure she, herself, does. This wasn’t good. “Together with the steadfast love of her King by her side, Queen Ava will be an unstoppable force for good.” The Oracle says and Ava’s stomach drops straight through the floor and the cellar beneath it. 

“Fuck, the Hell, no.” Ava whispers. It was bad enough that she was being collared into a crown but this was the last nail in the coffin of her freedom. She could see Aunt Suzanne knew it too, judging by her guilty expression. Whatever freedom Ava had to choose her own spouse has just died ignobly in front of them. 

It’s Shannon who tells Ava what the Council’s decision is. Her sad eyes convey how much Shannon wishes she didn’t have to. “They’ve decided on a Grand Melee. The winner will earn your hand in marriage.” 

Ava grinds her teeth together, thinking furiously. “How many contestants?” She knows the Lords would try to stack the contest to maximize the chance of their child being the one that wins. The debate around the cut off must have been deadly.

Shannon grimaces. “They tried to narrow it to ten.” Ava grimaces back. She’s well acquainted with the most likely ten and none hold any appeal for her. “Aunt Suzanne insisted that anything but an open contest would be an attempt to control fate and doomed to backfire horribly.”

An idea sparks in Ava’s mind. A stupid enough it might just work idea. “There’s no limit?”

Shannon nods. She bites her lip then offers, “if you want Mary could-”

“No,” Ava cuts off her cousin. She knows where Shannon’s heart had lain for years. Knows also that Mary was too low of station, too foreign, to ever be allowed to marry the Crown Princess. Shannon’s not the Crown Princess anymore and has a chance now at the freedom that always brought Ava happiness. “But I am going to need her help. And yours?”

Shannon nods immediately, shoulders untensing. “You have it, Ava. Whatever you need.”

***

“This is a stupid idea and you should be ashamed for agreeing to help.” Mary says as she scowls at the woman she loves. 

Shannon shrugs, shamelessly uncaring. “It’s actually kind of brilliant,” she says. “There was nothing in the prophecy that counteracts the idea.”

“Except the whole King thing,” Mary deadpans. 

“I mean,” Ava protests from where she’s trying to get out of one set of armour. “It’s more implied than stated that Queen Ava isn’t also, y’know, King Ava.” Distracted from her tasks of squirming out of armour, Ava unbalances and lands on the ground with a thud. “Fuck! Little help?”

Mary sighs and starts helping Ava out of the armour. “This is going to backfire on us so bad, I just know it.” She grumbles. 

Shannon smiles and nudges at Mary’s shoulder. “Does that mean you won’t help us?”

Mary scowls at Shannon in offence. “Babe, I’d help you fight the moon. I just want to be able to say I told you so when it does, inevitably, blow up in our faces.”

Shannon giggles and places the most gentle kiss she can against her lover’s lips. Thrilling as she always does at this new ability. “Thank you.” The two blush at each other like school girls with their first crush.

“Why’s it so dark?” Comes Ava’s muffled voice. “Am I upside down? Guys, help!”

***

The armour they’d finally selected covered Ava completely. They’d forgone full plate (”Aww, but I’d be invincible,” Ava had protested. “Yeah,” Mary snorted agreement, “to everyone but yourself.”) in favour of more flexible chain mail. If Shannon hadn’t help Ava put on the armour herself she’d never imagine that the Crown Princess was the one standing in it. This was the first day of competitions and all over the kingdom groups as large as this one were gathering to fight for the right to be Ava’s King. Shannon watched impassively from the screened throne Ava was supposed to be sitting in. She was thankful Aunt Suzanne was still feeling too guilty to actually talk to Ava or their ruse would be discovered far too quickly. 

Shannon was trained diligently in fighting as it was unbecoming of a heir to not be able to do so. She is, objectively, one of the greatest knights their kingdom has. Mary could match her only with her weird machines. She’d never sparred with her little cousin. Always too busy with other responsibilities. Shannon chews at her lip and prays to the Goddess Reya that Ava at least knows how to fight. 

Ava does know how to fight. Kind of. Shannon can’t pick a single concrete style out of the eclectic mix of moves Ava uses. There’s a certain brutal minimalism to the foundation of it that Shannon doesn’t expect. It takes two days and four fights before she realizes it’s because Ava never learned formally. What she’s seeing is every move that looked cool enough to learn combined with Ava’s general mouthiness picking way more street fights than a princess should be in. It’s very… Ava.

The preliminary rounds last a week. Ava dominates the smaller competition that occurs in the small town close to the Royal Summer Palace. The heavier competition has likely all gathered at the Capital where the finals will be held. The smarter competitors will have spread to other cities as the top winner of every town and city as well as the top five at the Capital will advance to the finals. Shannon and Mary will three weeks, minus two days of travel, to cram as much structure into Ava’s fighting style as they can before the finals start. 

***

Ava sees Micheal only after she came into the competitor’s mess hall. She’d felt confident without her obscuring helmet and armour because “it’s not like anyone knows me here, Shan. I’ll be fine.” Except there was Micheal Fucking Salvius, her best fucking friend who should not be in a competition to marry her.  She ducks behind the nearest set of broad shoulders she sees. There are an awful lot of broad shoulders here and in any other circumstances Ava would be eyeing the room up like an all she could eat smorgasbord. It’s a lot less appealing when she no longer has the option to not partake. 

Ava pops her head up, half behind her hand and half curled in to the straight backed form beside her. She glances away from watching for Micheal to look up into amused brown eyes and freckles and oh goddess, she’s pretty. 

“Can I help you?” The woman asks with soft openness. 

Ava grins, unconsciously leaning closer even though she’s already in the woman’s personal space bubble. “Sorry, just trying to avoid a, uh, ex.”

The woman nods solemnly in understanding. “I imagine it would be difficult deal with someone who doesn’t know how to let go.”

Ava draws her eyebrows together. “Why do you think he doesn’t know how to let go?”

Laughter twinkles in those alluring brown eyes. “Who could ever let you go?”

Ava gasps with delight feeling the fine hairs on her body stand up at attention. She’s flirted before, of course she has. And she’s been flirted with. Far to many times for her position, power, or wealth over her body. Since she started this ruse almost two weeks ago people had viewed her as the poor mercenary attempting to reach beyond her station. She’s been dismissed and demeaned and threatened. She’s been scorned and propositioned for sex in the same conversation (if it could be called that). What she hasn’t been is seen as worthy. Not until this woman with her serious expression and gentle eyes. Ava wiggles closer, intrigued by why a competitor for the princesses (Her) hand would flirt so genuinely with her (a poorer competitor). “Are you flirting with me?” Ava asks with clearly faked dismay.

The woman’s freckles stand out more when she blushes. “Yes, well,” she stumbles verbally before she swallows heavily. She fiddles a little with her fork and glances down shyly. “You’re very beautiful,” she confesses.

Ava had poetry written about looks her by some of the best poets in the world. None of it holds a candle to the warmth that blooms in her chest from this honest confession. “Careful,” Ava teases, “or I might fall a little bit in love with you.”

A tiny smile licks at the woman’s lips. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” 

Ava laughs and nudges at a well muscled arm. “Maybe not, but if I do I might convince you to run away from all this to marry me instead.” Ava doesn’t know where this is coming from. She doesn’t even know this woman’s name and she’s already threatening to steal her away from what everyone in this room wants bad enough to risk death and marry her instead. 

The woman looks at her with a serious expression. “Like I said,” she repeats, “that doesn’t sound so bad.”

Ava grins and rest her hand against the woman’s forearm, feeling the heat and strength with her fingertips. “That’s a pretty bold statement considering where we are.”

The woman nods, looking around the room as though to remind herself of her purpose. “My parents might kill me if I ran away,” she comments. 

It could be an offhand comment but Ava already has a firm impression that the woman doesn’t do off hand comments. “Besides which, I don’t even know your name.” Ava says to get the conversation back to something lighter, to free the woman from whatever burden Ava can see weighing down her shoulders. “I think I should at least know what name to call out on my marriage bed.”

That startles a bark of laughter from the woman, leaving her looking as adorably confused as a pup whose never barked before making a noise it doesn’t understand. “Beatrice.”

“Ava,” Ava says with a smile. Beatrice is a beautiful and elegant name for a beautiful and elegant woman. 

Beatrice’s eyebrows furrow. “Like the Princess?”

Oh shit, Ava realizes. She was supposed to use a fake name. Should have, even  if it meant missing out on hearing Beatrice say her name. “Uh, mmhmm, yep. That’s, it’s a really odd coincidence but, well, I didn’t pick my name.” Ava shrugs and catching the quick flicker of Beatrice’s eyes dropping from her face to her chest then back up to her lips. Ava’s licks her lips and leans forwards slightly, allowing a better sight down her chest. Just to distract Beatrice from her totally not suspicious fumble. 

***

Hanging out with Beatrice is easy. They banter and talk like they’ve known each other for years. Beatrice has spent the majority of her life away from the Kingdom, travelling with her diplomat parents. Ava’s spent the majority of her life in the Kingdom, seeing all the life it has to offer. They share stories and secrets as easily as they trade blows while sparring. There’s a certain rhythm between them that makes it feel more like a dance than a fight. Ava grows more tempted to steal Beatrice away and disappear into the obscurity of being a roaming mercenary by the day. Beatrice would probably let her. Even if Beatrice’s parents wouldn’t. 

The final fights start a week and a half after she first meets Beatrice. Her first match is against some Lord’s son, J.C. Fortunately he’s too interested in the ladies and their displayed bosoms to offer much of a fight. Ava doesn’t want to admit it but he might have been able to beat her if he’d actually focused on it. She’s pretty sure he’s just here to get laid and get his dad off his back. Ava can respect those goals so she holds her hand out to help him up after she wins. He nods amicably back at her and disappears with the first girl who compliments him with a hand on his chest. 

Ava watches Beatrice’s fight afterwards, wishing it could be as easy as that with her woman. Only, just for her. Not for any girl who tried. Beatrice is a force of nature. Ava wonders how she missed it before now. She trades a glance with Shannon through the screen that protects her identity. Beatrice doesn’t win her fight, she dominates it. Ava’s thighs clench at how easily Beatrice floors a bloodied knight with ten years experience on her. It had been like he was standing still, a training dummy before her.

Shannon sends Mary with a message that night and Mary raises a judgemental eyebrow at how she finds Ava nearly sitting in Beatrice’s lap they’re eating so close together. Ava shrugs shamelessly. Mary just sighs and motions for Ava to meet up with her. Ava leaves Beatrice with a visible reluctance. 

“This mean you have a favoured winner?” Mary asks ruthlessly the moment they’re alone. 

Ava scowls at her pseudo big sister. “Yeah, me.” She replies. “Just because I want to lick her sweat from her forearms doesn’t mean I want to give up my freedom.”

Mary grimaces at the, to her unnecessary, visual. “Ew, I regret asking already.” Ava raises a challenging eyebrow. “Shan sent me with a list to watch for. She’s pretty sure your, hmm, unorthodox fight style would let you win against most fighters. There’s only three she’s concerned about. Micheal knows how you fight.”

Ava scoffs. “I got Micheal,” she reassures. “I don’t know what that brat thinks he’s doing but I know how he fights too. Leave him to me.”

Mary nods easily. “The other two, well, they’re just better than you. Don’t pout baby girl. You know we’re not trying to be mean.” Ava pouts harder. “Shan’s going to try to get them to fight each other before they fight you. That way you only have to fight one of them.”

Ava’s pretty sure she already knows but she has to ask. “Who?”

“Lilith Villaumbrosia,” Mary says and they share a knowing grimace. The Villaumbrosia’s pride themselves on being the best warriors. Ever. Ava’s not even sure they care about winning her hand as much as they do proving their heir kicks ass. “And the Leonidas heir.”

“The who?” Ava frowns with the question. She doesn’t think she’s heard of him. Mary’s jaw drops. “What?” Ava asks.

“You’re so into her it’s made you stupid.” Mary responds, half to herself. At Ava’s continued confusion Mary clarifies. “Beatrice, you idiot. Beatrice Leonidas. Or as she’s publicly known, the Lion’s Pride.”

Ava pales and the world side steps beneath her feet. The Lion’s Pride. She knows that moniker. Everyone does. They youngest general in their neighbouring, thankfully much smaller, Steral Kingdom. The warrior who single handedly fought an ogre chieftain in ritual combat. Who took only a company and razed the thousand bandits of Wild Deer Grove in an absolutely impossible coup. “Who?”

Mary laughs. “You heard me,” she says mercilessly. She shakes her head at Ava’s pleading expression. “Face it baby girl, you’ve got a crush on the pretty girl your whole country would give it’s left nut to have win this competition.”

“Fate is such a bitch,” Ava groans.

***

As Ava promised, it’s easy to win against Micheal. Her longest friend puts up a good fight but her familiar voice shouting “dick” is enough a distraction for her to disarm her at a pivotal moment. “Ava?” He asks soft enough the crowd can’t hear him. His tone is full of disbelief and wonder. 

“Duh,” her response is unsympathetic. “Now surrender and tell me what the hell you think you’re doing.”

Micheal raises his voice loudly. “I am defeated. I surrender the fight.” The referee nods acknowledgement and Ava helps her friend up. “What are you doing here? Have you been, well, you this entire time?” He asks impatiently.

“Of course I have,” Ava dismisses. “And where else would I be? Letting some idiot control my choices?” She slaps her friend gently upside his head in pointed emphasis. 

Micheal pouts at her. “It’s not like I wanted to,” he protests. At Ava’s fierce scowl he hastily backtracks. “I mean, I just, I wasn’t going to let someone force you into something you don’t want. You’re my best friend.” He shrugs and Ava gets it. They were both sick often as kids, both stuck until his mother’s loving but slightly tyrannical thumb until she could heal them. He says ‘best friend’ but Ava really knows he means ‘sibling’. 

“Well, good. I wouldn’t marry you anyway.” She teases. He makes a sour expression at the idea of them marrying. “Now let’s go watch Bea kick Lilith’s ass.” 

His eyes crinkle together in confusion. “I thought Lilith was fighting Leonidas?”

Ava blushes. Ava never blushes but she can feel how hot her cheeks get right now. Can feel his stare and jaw dropped shock. “Right. Yeah. Her.”

“A-Ava,” Micheal stutters. “Ava what was that?”

“Nothing!” Ava denies. They both know she’s lying. If not then he certainly knows it by her wide eyed heavy panting awe as she watches the legendary fight between Beatrice and Lilith. Beatrice wins flawlessly, her hair dark with sweat and escaping her cowl as she makes her way to where Ava’s watching her breathless. “That’s my girl,” Ava cheers. Beatrice stumbles and almost trips. “Oh shit! Are you ok? Do you need a healer?” Ava asks with concern. 

“Or laid?” Lilith snarks from behind Beatrice. 

Beatrice flushes red and Ava bites at her bottom lip at the sight. “I’m fine,” Beatrice says to Lilith, then softer to Ava, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah you are,” Ava growls her agreement and thrills at how Beatrice smiles shyly in response. 

She ignores Micheal’s mumbled, “this isn’t nothing” like the professional she is.

***

It comes down to Ava and Beatrice. Like it was fated. Written in prophecy and spoken by an Oracle. All Ava’s freedom locked on the other side of the woman Ava desperately wants to gift it to. On the other side of a woman she can’t defeat, and not for lack of trying. Ava hates it. Hates that she’s fallen in love and probably going to marry this woman only to resent Beatrice for being forced into this. 

Beatrice stands polished and proud. Looking every bit the amazing King she’s going to be. Her grip on her spear is easy and firm, practiced and perfected over countless hours. Ava looks pathetic in comparison. It’s intentional, the mismatched colours and contours intended to make people overlook her. No self-respecting Princess would wear this. Ava’s full face cover is down, protecting her face from the scrutiny of the Queen and her Council. Beatrice is holding her helmet under her arm, her serious eyes locked on Ava’s fidgeting form. The referee called start two minutes ago and neither of them have moved. 

Ava’s sword is still sheathed. Beatrice’s spear is butted against the ground. The most they’ve done is nod at each other. Ava’s seen Beatrice fight before. Knows that she advances like a storm the moment the referee calls a start. Like the hand of the goddess touching down against vulnerable earth, moving everywhere at once. No hesitation and no regret. Beatrice is chewing a bit at her bottom lip and Ava’s a tiny bit distracted by her jealousy that she’s not allowed to chew at Beatrice’s bottom lip. The referee called start five minutes and the crowd is murmuring loudly in the silence between them. 

“Fight.” A voice calls out and the crowd takes up the chant. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Beatrice’s eyes don’t waver from the lock they have on Ava. Ava feels naked before her, despite being more covered than ever before. Ava wants and wants and curses herself for not finding the words to explain herself. Ava wants to beg Beatrice to walk away, to surrender this competition she’s going to win. Wants to explain that Bea’s Ava is that Ava, the one who should be sitting like a princess behind a protective screen. Present and not seen, like she’s felt her entire life until Beatrice saw her. Would Beatrice? Could she bare it if Beatrice didn’t? If she chose what her family wants her over what Ava asked of her? Ava’s never felt so weak, so alone. The referee called start ten minutes ago and the stadium rocks with the shouts of ‘fight!’

Beatrice breaks eye contact and Ava breathes through the tears spilling down her face. She turns to look at the stern couple who carry her same colours and standard. They nod at her, imperious and commanding. She tilts her head and smiles. Beatrice’s spear stays standing for a moment after she releases it, perfectly balanced until the wind knocks it down. The crowd goes silent enough between her open hand and the wind that Ava can hear the spear hit the ground. Beatrice drops her helmet next, without care for how the shiny metal hits the ground. She steps forward, away from her weapon. Her gauntlets fall right first, then left. Her cloak is ripped off her shoulders the step after. Beatrice slows, pulling at the buckles of her cuirass and it hits the ground with a solid thunk when she’s five steps away from Ava. Ava can’t breathe. The referee called start fifteen minutes ago and Beatrice is unarmed and half defenceless in front of her. 

“My whole life, people have tried to make me into something I’m not. To make me normal. Or at least… acceptable,” Beatrice explains as she continues stripping off her armour. “I became skilled at so many things just so I would still have value, despite my flaws. Or what I’d been taught was a flaw.” Beatrice scoffs. “Of course, I tried to fit in. But when you’re punished just for being different, you begin to hate what you are.” She pauses in kicking off her greaves to look at Ava. Ava’s too stunned to lift her helmet so she hopes Beatrice can see how much she’s listening in her eyes. “And what you love, what should make you happy. Only brings you pain. Pain is what made me a warrior.”

Ava blinks tears from her eyes. “Don’t hate what you are. What you are is beautiful.”

Beatrice, stripped down to the soft clothes worn beneath her heavy armour, laughs. “When I’m with you,” she says softly, “I can actually believe that.”

Ava thinks they must have been overheard because her aunt chooses this moment to interrupt. “Contestant Leonidas,” Queen Suzanne’s sharp tone cuts through the understanding between them. “What are you doing?”

“I’m falling in love,” Beatrice shouts back and Ava swoons. 

“What about the competition?” Suzanne demands. 

Beatrice blushes, as though she’d forgotten they were surrounded by a crowd and why. “Sorry,” she whispers to Ava first. Beatrice turns to Shannon’s hidden form. “I’m sorry Princess. I’m sure you’re lovely and I do wish you luck in finding you’re King to sit beside you. It just won’t be me.”

Suzanne sighs and rubs at her temples. “Contestant Leonidas, your assuming Contestant Silva will agree with you.”

Beatrice shakes her head ‘no’. “She makes her own decisions,” the vulnerable woman says. She turns to make eye contact with Ava again, as serious as she’s ever been. “Whatever you chose, I support. I’m yours. If you want to marry me, well, nothing would make me happier. If you want to strike me down and win a kingdom,” Beatrice holds out her empty hands leaving her utterly vulnerable. “I won’t stop you.”

Ava laughs. She can’t help it, even as Beatrice blinks at her with surprise. She laughs so hard her shoulders shake. 

“Contestant Silva,” Suzanne calls over Ava’s laughter and points at Beatrice’s patiently waiting form. “Perhaps you’d like to end this charade.” Ava’s eyes widen. Her aunt knows? And let it happen? Did Suzanne know this  would happen? Her shock must be obvious in her body language because Suzanne smiles. “After all,” she calls looking at her Council with an imperious expression, “Fate cannot be denied.”

Ava fumbles with the latch of her helmet and silently curses Mary’s diligence at making sure it wouldn’t accidentally come off. “You promise you’re mine?” She asks, hesitating with the weight of her helmet in her hands. “No matter what?”

Beatrice nods. “In this life and the next.” 

Ava tosses her own helmet off and throws herself at Beatrice. Her lips feels exactly as soft and perfect against her own as she dreamed. Beatrice pulls her closer and Ava can feel Beatrice’s smile with her tongue. Her hands wander a little more than is socially acceptable but Beatrice doesn’t protest so Ava doesn’t care either. Ava pulls back from the kiss to meet Beatrice’s heavily lidded eyes. Beatrice cups her face gently with both calloused hands. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she threatens. Beatrice presses their foreheads together and Ava can’t stop grinning. 

“Thank fuck!” A voice shouts behind the protective screen hiding the Crown Princess and Shannon stumbles out from behind it. 

“Princess Shannon?!” The Council gasps in shock, a few looking behind her for their Crown Princess to magically appear. “Where is the Crown Princess?”

Ava laughs and pulls back from Beatrice enough to turn and face her aunt and the Council of Lords. “It seems the final contestants have tied,” she shouts. “So we’ll be splitting the rewards accordingly. Bea will have the Princess and I’ll get married.” Beatrice pouts and Ava doesn’t have to prevent herself from poking at that tempting lower lip so she does’t. “Don’t be jealous honey,” Ava teases.

“I don’t want some Princess,” Beatrice protests, “I want you.” 

The gathered crowd of onlookers murmur to themselves, wondering if such a thing is allowed. Queen Suzanne slams her cane against the ground, bringing all attention to her. “You’ve heard my niece,” she says with a growing smile. “Now, come over here and let me give my congratulations on your upcoming marriage Ava. And welcome your King into our family.”

Ava grabs Beatrice’s hand and skips forward only to pull to an awkward halt when Beatrice does’t come with her. She looks over her shoulder to find Beatrice looking stunned. “Niece?” Beatrice croaks out.

Ava grins and rushes back to press a quick kiss to Beatrice’s lips once more. “So, turns out the reason I share a name with the Princess is because I am the Princess.”

Beatrice’s jaw drops and her eyes look between Ava and her aunt, The Queen. “What?” It comes out half strangled. 

“Surprise!” Ava flourishes her hands. “I choose to marry you and win a kingdom. You promised so no take-backies.” She steals another quick kiss and returns to pulling her fiancé over to her family. This time Beatrice goes willingly, if a little stiffly.

“I wouldn’t take it back,” Beatrice protests.

Ava grins. “I know. You’re much too steadfast for that love.”

given how she hates being powerless, ava would be the exact type of person who would enter in as a knight in a contest for her own hand so she can maintain her independence

so, knight!ava-who’s-secretly-the-princess in a contest for the princess’ hand with one of her main rivals being one Sir Beatrice Young, and as the contest drags on Ava quickly discovers that while she would rather die than loose regardless, if she has to loose to anyone she’d rather it be Beatrice

meanwhile Sir Beatrice, who was never all that interested in winning the princess’ hand to begin with, and only entered the contest at the behest of her father, finds that the urge to say to hell with it all and run away with the mysterious, constantly punning, rival knight who fights almost like their life depends on it grows stronger by the day