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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𝖑𝖝𝖎𝖝. To the Stars
Matt
IT'S JUST PAST SUNSET in the mountains; the snowy peaks are still painted blood red. A fitting color for this place. Matt watches through the jet window as they fly in, weaving toward the now-familiar valley outside Ascendant. As one of the representatives going between the Nortan States and the Republic, Matt feels like he's done this a thousand times. There's always a great deal of movement within the alliance, and Montfort is always at its center. He's been back and forth so much by now, enough to know what to expect from approach. The craft rattles, hitting pockets of turbulence over the peaks. It hardly registers. The updrafts of mountain air make the landing bumpy, and Matt jostles against his buckles when they touch down onto the runway.
Even though they land safely, his heart rate climbs and his hands tremble as he unfastens himself. It takes more willpower than it should not to sprint from the jet.
Matt can tell that Nick feels the same by the speed at which he stands. He's probably eager to see Weston, after weeks apart.
Nannabel certainly takes her time getting off the craft. She plays up the charade of an old woman, leaning on the seat backs for support as she walks down the aisle. "Can't imagine how you two do this so much," she grumbles to Matt and Nick. Her voice is louder than it needs to be, even over the drone of the airjet. "I'm stiff all over."
Matt shares an eye roll with his brother. It's all an act ━ he knows firsthand how spry she is. Annabel Roloson is no wilting flower. She just wants to slow her grandsons down, keep them from looking overeager. (Or, at least, Matt. She knows for a long while now that she'll only be unsuccessful in controlling Nick.)
Cedric is good enough to take Nannabel by the arm, helping her along at a quicker step. She offers a bloodless smile in thanks, clutching at him with strong, lethal hands. He pales under her grasp, knowing exactly how deadly the hands of an oblivion can be.
Thank you, Matt mouths to him, and he nods in reply.
Cedric is excited to be here, too, albeit for very different reasons. He enjoys the Republic as only a scholar can, and he's eager to show the country to Amelia. She walks in front of him, setting a good pace in quiet determination. Like Matt, Cedric and Amelia have ceased in wearing house colors. He's still not used to see his uncle in anything but faded gold, or Amelia in colors that aren't red and silver.
Nannabel, of course, keeps to the old tradition. Matt doesn't think she owns anything that isn't red, orange, or black. Her long silk coat trails as she walks down the jet, displaying explosive red brocade set with chips of black stone. No one would ever know she isn't royal anymore if they looked in her closet.
