Disclaimer: I don't own DP.

Thanks to the following awesome people for reviewing last time: Invader Johnny, hrisi292, KraZiiePyrozhaveMoreFun, lena . smith . 106, Lady Audentium, Roses-R-Rosie, Guest, and JadeliketheGem! I am so thankful that even into 2020, you've all checked in on the DP archive and continued to support this collection, and that means so much to me!

I'm so sorry as well for the extended hiatus from Deliverance. I explain more in the author's notes at the end, but if you're still around to read this, please know I really appreciate you checking back on this crazy collection! And I hope you enjoy this little intermission piece!

Chapter Summary: Intermission: Renaissance Fair AU: Lady Valerie Gray and Lord Daniel Masters are rivals on the field. But off of it, they're something….else.

Chapter Warnings: Theatrical violence, references to sex, some crude language.

Deliverance

Shot 75: Intermission: Full Metal Jousting

A horse's hooves stamped into the dirt, kicking up clods of mud and grass. Valerie Gray leaned forward, her eyes narrowing, her dark curls flying in the wind. She raised up in her saddle, her white horse beneath her surging faster and faster—

Her red and silver armor glared in the sunlight.

She flexed her arm, loosing the lance, and it flew through the air to hit a target post right in the bullseye.

The crowds behind her raised up in a cheer, flashing their smartphones and cameras to capture the moment and the grace with which the legendary Valerie Gray moved. It was said by many that her technique was a marvel. Her shots were straight and true—her jousting a breath-taking clash of thunder.

"A full three points!" cried the announcer, who was a tall and spindly man wearing long, white robes. His somewhat grating voice wafted over the makeshift grandstands of hay, upon which large crowds sat, some in jeans and t-shirts and others in their Renaissance dresses and trousers.

Valerie settled down in her saddle as she slowed her horse and turned her head, her dark curls flying about her. She caught sight of the bullseye, and her full lips stretched with a delighted smile. She raised a strong, armored arm in triumph, the silver of the metal glinting in the afternoon sun.

"Try to beat that, hot shot!" she called out over the crowds.

On the far side of the jousting ring, a pure-black horse stood, carrying a rider in black, tapered armor. The man pulled off his metal helmet, his long, black locks streaming down his shoulders like ink. Valerie felt her heart skip at even the sight of him, for he was very handsome, down to the sharp of his cheek and the aristocratic turn of his nose.

He was the infamous Daniel Masters—the son of the beloved Vladimir Masters, who had established the Jousting Guild as, apparently, some bored rich man's pastime.

But Dan, as his protégé, knew the craft with a skill that rivaled his father and suggested he would have been quite the knight in the old days.

A large, gauntleted hand reached down and grabbed for one of the lances, tossing his helmet to his poor squire. Sharp, blue eyes focused upon Valerie, narrowing. "It is easy to improve enough on imperfection, Lady Valerie," he retorted, his baritone voice raising up. "Perhaps offer me a stronger challenge."

Valerie pulled up on her white horse, her pretty face faulting. Her armored hands tightened on the reins of her horse, and gave her opponent a dark glare.

Handsome or not, he had a big mouth.

One she desperately wanted to punch sometimes.

"How about your put your coin where your mouth is, Lord Daniel?" she snapped back. "Let's see if you can do any better, huh?"

Their lines were never scripted for jousting tournaments, to the mild agony of one Vladimir Masters and the various other event organizers. But something about it made it real in the moment. Those in the grandstands watched in great curiosity of the most heated rivalry in the sport—and the most intriguing possible romance.

Dan's black armor flashed in the sun, and his head tilted, his long locks curling against the spike of his shoulder armor. "Challenge accepted," he snapped. And then his grip tightened upon the lance, and he tightened his thighs against his dark horse, spurning it forward.

The dark horse tensed, its hooves digging into the dirt. It lowered its head and began to charge.

Its lithe rider leaned forward in his saddle, raising up. His black hair streamed behind him, his eyes narrowing.

And suddenly, the lance surged through the air—

—to split Valerie's lance right down the middle.

She face-faulted even as Dan's fans rose up in a cheer, and her pout deepened as she saw the man settle back on his saddle with a particularly self-satisfied smile. He trotted his horse by the multitudes, waving a gauntleted hand. Soaking in the applause.

"A full four points as well," cried the announcer, "and an extra point for splitting the lance. The leading champion is now Lord Daniel of the Shadow Kingdom!"

The audience cheered, but Valerie patted her horse's mane, a tight line in her lips. "Not for long," she muttered under her breath. And then she grabbed for her helmet, which hung off the tall ledge beside where they rested. The helmet gleamed silver, the visor of it casting a red glow upon her skin.

"We now shall prepare our brave knights for the greatest sport in the world!" The announcer waved a green-painted hand, his white hair fluttering into his face. He sputtered lightly as he pulled his wild locks from his eyes. "I, Technus, Master of Ancient Technologies, will return momentarily to announce the beginning of the joust!"

And behind him, the black knight raised his arm outward, staring ahead at Valerie in a delighted determination—until his face faulted. He indignantly clenched his fist, turning irritated eyes to his squire. Though his eyes were blue, they occasionally flashed in ways that made the color disappear and turn to steel gray. "Nathan." His baritone voice was a sharp snap. "You're terrible at this."

The squire looked up at him with big, frightened eyes behind thick coke-bottle glasses. "Uh, s-sorry." He grabbed for the steel armor plate with black padding beneath it, awkwardly working to adjust the straps. "I got distracted."

"By Valerie, no doubt." Dan's eyes slid to him, glaring. "You gawk at her as if she were not our opponent."

Nathan made a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair before fitfully setting the guard plate over Dan's spiked shoulder. "Yeah, I mean. She's really pretty, you know?"

The man's handsome face twisted. His black hair slipped against gleaming metal as he turned fully to Nathan, searching his eyes. Even though the squire stood on a tall box to assist him with his additional armor, Nathan was still quite small. "You would do well," Dan murmured, voice darkening, "to remember that Valerie is mine."

Nathan's fingers began to shake. He deftly tightened the buckles under Dan's powerful arm. His face tightened as he worked. "She is?"

Dan raised his chin haughtily. "She certainly does not sleep with you, does she." And then he pulled away, raising and lowering his shoulder critically to test out the tightness of the straps. For as incompetent as Nathan acted, he wasn't altogether a lost cause. He held out his hand then, expecting the return of his jousting helmet, which was a dark black with a white plume of feathers.

The boy's face was red with shame and curiosity as he handed the helmet over. "Valerie…sleeps with you?"

Dark, gauntleted fingers clinked against the helmet. "Of course."

"But I thought…" Nathan's voice strangled. "I thought she didn't like you."

"It's what they call a love-hate relationship," Dan deadpanned. And then he fitted his helmet over his head and slammed down the visor, eyes narrowing upon the woman in silver and red.

On the other side of the lists, Valerie checked over the integrity of her own armor, her heart beginning to pound with adrenaline. "Shit," she whispered, staring over at the written scoreboard. "He could actually beat me this time."

Her squire was a slight woman with blonde hair tied back in a low braid. She was slightly older, her eyes narrowing with a few lines from many days in the sun. "Oh, don't worry, dear," she said. "Look at the way he sits. He preens with pride—he's too overconfident."

"He always looks like that," Valerie complained.

Dora pursed her lips. "Were you with him again last night? He's got that look to him. Like a very satisfied man."

The knight fell silent. She fitted her helmet over her head, hiding her tight face and matting her thick curls to her neck. They streamed down the back of her armor. "You know it's complicated."

The squire quickly began to look over Valerie's armor, checking it for any weaknesses in the buckles or straps. Something about her actions were motherly. "I understand there's something handsome about him. But I'm not sure it's entirely in accordance with the code of chivalry to sleep with weak boys without marrying them."

Behind her visor, Valerie's full lips twitched. She reached out with armored fingers to accept her first lance. The long piece of wood glimmered with a green paint and gold designs. "Chivalry died out a long time ago."

Dora stood up on her tip-toes, raising a brow to eye her. Her own blue tunic fluttered in the wind about her legs. "So did jousting, yet we're still here." She primly dusted off her sleeves. "And I'm still watching over you as I have for nearly a decade. And I cannot approve of what you're doing with this boy."

"Oh please." Her rough voice turned up. "You know I can handle him. On or off the field."

The older woman's blond brows knitted together. "I'd rather you knock him off his horse than get knocked up, dear."

Valerie turned to face her. "This really isn't the sixteenth century, you know," she said dryly. "And I'm definitely going to knock him off his horse."

The old man whose stage name was Technus suddenly raised his arms, his voice cracking. "And now we shall begin the joust! On the right side of the lists, we return with Sir Daniel of the Shadow Kingdom, the champion of the Night King, Nocturne!"

Behind the crowds of modern viewers were several regal tents. Among them was a tent of pure black, flanked by guards in white. Within the tent, a tall man sat upon a throne, his black robes glittering like starlight, even in the tent's darkness. He raised a pale hand and waved magnanimously to the crowds.

"And on the left of the lists, is Lady Valerie Gray from the Kingdom of Ampa, the champion of the illustrious and incredibly rich Emperor Vladimir!"

Next to Nocturne's text was a garish green and gold tent with ornate designs. And within it was the infamous Vladimir himself—the father of Daniel Masters. He was an aged silver fox, bearing long locks as his son did. Around him, various nymph women with red hair and voluptuous curves flitted about, fanning him.

He waved, calling out merrily in a deep, indulgent voice, "Do crush that treacherous son of mine, Lady Knight!"

Valerie raised her lance, and the crowds cheered.

Dan's back straightened. The dark tail of his horse flicked, and the horse stomped its hoof into the dirt. "Pay no mind to accusations of treachery," he called out, his voice hardening in a false play—and a half-truth. There was always friction between himself and his father, for various reasons. It made for great theatrical drama for the crowds. "No emperor sat upon that throne who was more fake."

The emperor scoffed, accepting a plate of grapes from one of his women. "On the contrary, misgraced son. You're the one who sold your soul to the Shadow Kingdom for power and lands. I'll have nothing to do with you now. And I cheer the day that my valiant knight unseats you."

Dan scoffed. "Then you will rue your decision, when I skewer your champion on my lance."

The crowd rose up in a mix of cries and cheers.

Valerie called out, voice rough, "As if I'd let you skewer me."

Their horses began to align against the posts as they both tightened up their form, hunkering down to streamline themselves.

The announcer began to back away, raising up his green-painted hands. "Let Round 1 begin!"

And suddenly, Dan and Valerie surged forward.

The crowd leaned forward, with several raising their phones to capture a video. The vast field echoed with the hard pounding of hooves, and the sunlight glinted off the red and black knight as if they were diamonds—lances lowered to hit—

Crash.

Wood splintered, and Dan's lithe body slammed backward in his saddle, his gauntleted hand barely managing to keep hold of his broken lance.

Valerie charged passed him, her ringlet curls flying behind her in a merry way. She pulled on the reins of her horse, lowering her lance as she turned to face her opponent.

The crowds cheered.

"A point to both knights," cried Technus, "for the breaking of the lances!" He'd backed away during the joust in favor of grabbing his favorite orange drink and his cell phone, discreetly attempting to win an ill-timed eBay bid for parts to build an accurate replica of the old Greek Antikythera mechanism.

Dan hissed as he eventually dropped his broken lance, his arm pulsing with a pain. Nathan had run to meet him on the other side of the lists, but he was clapping wildly for Valerie instead, nearly jumping with his cheers.

Dan gave him a tight glare that stung Nathan's back and inspired him to look up.

The nerdy man gulped, his hands lowering. "Ah, um. Right." And then he awkwardly began to grab for another lance to hand to the knight.

"I understand now," Dan snapped, "why you accepted this position." He nearly snatched the lance out of Nathan's grasp, grunting slightly in pain. Valerie packed a punch like a true battering ram, and no doubt, his shoulder was going to bruise from how hard she hit. "It wasn't that you're not afraid of me. But that you wanted to see her."

Nathan looked up at him briefly, his eyes wide and innocent from behind his coke-bottle glasses. "She's a goddess. And she can kick your butt too."

He face-faulted. "Fantastic pep talk, squire," he snapped.

"You are kinda mean," Nathan said shakily. And then he checked over the straps of Dan's shield, moving to pat the horse as well. "Phantom's not bad, though."

Though it was a cool fall day, the armor Dan wore was hot, and his dark brow had begun to sweat beneath his helmet. He huffed in irritation, resituating on his saddle, his broad shoulders straightening. "You're fired," he rasped. "Immediately."

"It was worth it," Nathan confessed, his voice weakening as he turned to look at Valerie, who was preparing for the next run. "She's beautiful. Even to be this close, this far…"

She held her lance up, looking victorious in the sunlight, as if she were glowing.

Dan stared at her, his eyes narrowing upon her. "It bothers me to no end," he muttered, "that I find myself in agreement with you, as much of a little weasel that you are." For Valerie was truly as beautiful as she was fierce—and her fierceness made her beauty all the more impossibly real. But thinking about Valerie in such terms was dangerous. Dan shook himself from his thoughts and tensed up, locking his lance in place in preparation for the next run.

He briefly turned to glance at his father, who had leaned forward in interest, no longer eating grapes from the fingers of his nymph women. But the sight of them still petting Vlad's hair and cooing over his robes inspired a downturn on Dan's lips, and a swell of irritation overcame him—a near-righteous indignance over how the nymph women were a terribly poor replacement for his mother.

Beneath his helmet, his lip curled in a snarl. He looked away, determined suddenly to defeat Valerie. To show his father that no matter how fake the renaissance fair was, his own skills were not fake—and that Vlad could not control him.

Or perhaps this was what Vlad wanted, for his son to be a spectacle of conflict while he sat back and ate grapes.

"Let Round two begin!" cried Technus, waving his orange drink.

This time, Dan steeled himself, preparing to hit Valerie with full force. He raised up in his saddle, streamlining his body as he lowered the lance to focus upon her shield. She owed him this win. She owed him—

Crash!

The lances split in a starburst around them as their horses stormed back.

Valerie's hit upon his own shield battered him hard, driving the armor into his bruising shoulder. But when he slowed the horse and turned around, he realized that Valerie had dropped her lance entirely, her horse slowing from its gallop in an unsteady way, as if it were doing so on instinct and less so on command.

The woman was cradling her arm now, curling in on herself with an injury.

He'd hit her hard, the lance glancing off her shield to strike at her forearm.

The crowds went wild, snapping photos and capturing video.

"And the Shadow Kingdom returns with a mighty blow!" Technus called out. "More points to Sir Daniel for Lady Valerie dropping her lance! This next run will be the final round of the afternoon, to determine who will fight against the reigning champion of the World Jousting Organization—King Pariah Dark himself!"

Dora quickly ran to Valerie, eyes wide. "Dear, are you alright? That looked awful."

The white horse whinnied in worry as Valerie slowed to a halt, breathing a bit unsteadily. She managed a tight laugh, even though her face was screwed up with pain beneath her helmet. "Yeah, the bastard's just got some bite to him, is all. Gimme that last lance. I'll hit him where it hurts for this."

People in the crowd were snapping photos, some murmuring that perhaps Lady Valerie would be unable to continue—in which case, Sir Daniel would advance by default. Some were already taking bets. But within the crowd was an old, one-armed man who was Valerie's father, Damon Gray. The man always tried to make it to Valerie's jousts—no matter the distance between renaissance fairs. No matter how much it disrupted his work as a security developer for Axiom Labs. And he very loyally held up his banner with Valerie's insignia upon it, never one for crying out cheers, but always one for offering the support he could.

Valerie's breath hitched in thought of him. "I gotta win today." And she grabbed a final lance from Dora.

The prize of the weekend jousting tournaments, for however fake the fairs were, was a sizeable sum of cash made through the extensive betting system. And if she could just win, then it would mean she could continue to pay Dora's salary (so she wouldn't have to crawl back to her awful brother for support), and also pay for her father's traveling expenses. And maybe his food.

Maybe other things…

She looked up, staring at Dan, who was the son of one of the richest men in America. For all of their trysts, a small spark of irritation and jealousy wavered through her. It was of no consequence to Dan if he lost. He'd whine and drink on occasion but otherwise would have no qualms dropping more of his trust-fund-baby income into new armor, more horses, more traveling to more jousting tournaments—

"Let Round three begin!"

And then, with a grimace, Valerie charged.

Her white horse and his black one blurred down the field.

And—

Crash.

The black horse, Phantom, reeled up as the lance caught Dan's shield with a solid hit that unsettled his center of gravity. Dan snapped backward on his saddle, his strong body falling back in surprise and shock.

And then he slammed to the ground as Phantom galloped away, leaving him in a daze on the dirt as the crowds cheered and chanted Valerie's name.

It was a delayed reaction, for his fall had knocked the wind straight out of him, but Dan eventually managed a groan.

It was later in the evening, just before the renaissance fair closed, that Valerie found Dan standing in the hot dog line. He was flanked by a gaggle of young teenage girls dressed as fairies, and then a sleek-looking business woman who was side-eyeing him with a great appreciation for his broad shoulders.

Valerie looked down at her simple renaissance dress—her costume for when she was off the field. She tried to straighten the wrinkles of the sleeves. "Hey, Dan!"

The man she'd defeated stood in his own costume as well—simple black pants and a billowing white tunic with black silk patterns. A dark cloak hung from his shoulders, which were still tense from the heavy hit he'd taken during his fall.

Sharp, blue eyes flickered to her at the sound of his name. And then his handsome face hardened. He turned back away, raising his nose with a sense of pride. "I am not buying you a congratulatory hotdog, after you so rudely unseated me."

She pouted. "Oh, come on. That's all part of the sport, and you know it."

Daniel Masters was, as always, a sore loser.

She approached, giving him a look.

He turned back to her, staring down at her with narrowed eyes. "You," he murmured, "will make it up to me tonight at the hotel."

Valerie huffed. "Not tonight. My dad's here."

Dan's face twisted. "He's always here."

"He's here, like, for five tournaments, total."

"And you always seem to have particular knack for playing rough when he's around," Dan complained lightly. "Honestly, Valerie dear. I will unseat you one day so you know how it feels."

"Oh, I've been unseated plenty of times," she retorted. Her voice softened as she searched his eyes, her full lips stretching. "But I'll never be unseated by you."

There was a silence between them, with inches between their lips.

Dan's mouth stretched lightly, and he pulled away. "There are children here, Valerie. If you want to continue this conversation, then return to my hotel tonight." He moved forward in line, his cloak billowing along with his black hair.

Valerie moved to rib him right back, but then another voice echoed over hers.

"Ah, Valerie."

Dan stiffened, his eyes narrowing.

Valerie turned around in surprise. "Vlad."

The man disguised as an emperor strolled to her, with two of his red-haired nymph ladies on his arms. He moved as through he were walking upon a cloud—unaffected and immortal in every way that normal humans were not. He looked her over briefly. "I wanted to congratulate you on your most valiant victory on behalf of the kingdom of Ampa."

Valerie preened at that, giving him a bright smile. She managed a small curtsy in accordance to the renaissance etiquette. "Of course, my lord." The fair always seemed to straddle between moments of modernity and impromptu role-playing for those about to witness. Vlad's role as an emperor meant that he needed to stay in character without breaking it in front of audiences. She raised her arm to cross it over her chest. "All I do is in the name of Ampa."

The rich man tilted his head. He seemed to have a dark delight in the fantasy of things—happy enough to play along with the regality of it all, as if he were a man born several centuries too late. He was all-too natural at it.

He slipped away from his lady friends and raised his hands, his long sleeves swaying in the wind. "Come walk with me, my champion. I've business to discuss with you before your father or…other characters take you away from me."

"Of course, Emperor Masters," she said. Her voice was tight with a minor excitement. Sometimes, Vlad bestowed additional funding on her for winning against Dan. More money meant better gear. More ornate upgrades. She turned to Dan, giving him a slight look before moving forward, accepting Vlad's outstretched elbow.

The man's lips stretched, but the smile did not reach his calculating eyes.

Dan watched her leave, his own gaze narrowed in suspicion—and jealousy for Valerie's time.

"Now, my dear," Vlad said as they walked along the outer fields. His voice was a smooth velvet. Charming, soothing, as always. "You know as much as I do that these…jousts are both for the sport and for the entertainment, yes?"

Valerie's dark brows knitted together. "That's what sports do."

"Yes." He managed another smile. His golden crown of leaves glimmered in the increasing setting sun. "But you must be aware, that there is a significant betting pool that has been built over the last several years."

"Yeah, that's what pays for the whole party, right?"

"Precisely." His voice began to turn. "And sometimes, we have to do things that are against our nature in order to ensure fiscal stability."

Valerie slowed in their walk. She gave him an unsteady glance, an increasing trepidation rising in her. "I don't understand, Mr. Masters."

The man stopped walking then. He pursed his lips together, and when he did so, his face tightened in a way that reminded Valerie of his relation to Dan. "The fact is, Miss Gray, you'll be running against the greatest jouster of all time tomorrow. Pariah."

"What about it?"

Vlad hesitated. "My dear, I need you to lose the match."

She blinked. "…I'm sorry, what?"

He raised his hands helplessly, effortlessly, as if he were mostly unaffected himself. "The stakes are far too high in the betting pool. We've much more to lose if I bet on you than if I bet against you, in favor of Pariah. Providing, of course, that you lose as expected."

Valerie's jaw dropped.

She failed to speak for a time. And then she managed to say, voice halted, "Mr. Masters, you're talking about…fixing the matches?"

The man chuckled. "Oh, that's such a dirty way of describing—"

"—that's what you're trying to do," she cut in, disbelief rising in her voice. "Mr. Masters, that's illegal. You know it is."

His handsome smile began to falter. He began to take on a new visage—one of enhanced calculation. "Think of it this way, dear," he tried to croon. "These fairs, these costumes, they're all fake anyway. Many jousts outside our precious organization are staged for the entertainment of the crowds. What I'm trying to do, Valerie, is secure both your financial future and enhance the profitability of our outfit."

Valerie backed away. A great disquiet overcame her. "You want me to lose."

"Of course." The man airily waved his hand. "It's a small defeat for a much larger victory. You must understand."

Her voice hitched. "No, as a matter of fact, I don't." A passion overcame her. "I've had to fight hard to get this position. I've beat out scores of guys who thought women couldn't joust at all." Her eyes narrowed. "This is my chance to prove once and for all that I can do this. And—and you're asking me to throw it out? For what?"

Vlad raised a brow at her, as if she were a child. He leaned forward then, his voice dropping with a pleasant danger. "I'm not sure you understand exactly what sort of investment you represent."

"I don't understand," she snapped. "Why don't you tell me about it."

His eyes grew dark, and it disturbed the usual carefreeness of his face. "These renaissance fairs and jousts; to you, it's a family friendly environment to have fun and reminisce about the past. And truly, Miss Gray, you must know that I enjoy that part of it. And I want you to win one day." His voice lowered. "But while you've been fucking my son on the side and playing the happy little knight, there's been a much larger operation at hand."

She swallowed hard, a flush rising to her face. She backstepped, nearly tripping over the red material of her dress.

Vlad stepped forward, grabbing for her arm. "These jousts, my dear, are an opportunity for other sorts of business."

"What business?" she demanded.

"That's for me to worry about, dear," he crooned. "But one that is very, very lucrative for the both of us." His grip tightened on her arm with a slight threat to his actions. "So all you have to do is go to my son tonight and play your little hotel games. And then fall off your horse tomorrow within the three rounds against the jouster named Pariah Dark."

Valerie swallowed hard.

"Think about it," Vlad encouraged. "Think very hard on it." And then he released her in a pointed way.

Valerie stared at him in surprise. She grabbed for her arm to protect herself from him. "I don't get what a damn tournament at a ren fair has to do with big business," she retorted. Her heart was beginning to pound. "What else are you using that betting system or? Is it drugs or something?"

"That's the nice thing about renaissance fairs, Miss Gray." His blue eyes lightened, and his face turned merry once more. "Nothing bad ever happens in a renaissance fair. It's all just…a delightful fantasy, especially for those with great funds to throw about. Now, why don't you go back to your father and treat him to a delicious meal with the finest of wines? It'd be so unfortunate if he came here to support you, only for you to ghost him in favor of me or my son."

Throughout the rest of the evening, she'd managed to maintain a bright smile for her father, but her mind had been racing the whole time. Was Dan in on this strange scheme of Vlad's? Who else knew about an underlying operation including fixed matches? Technus? Dora?

Soon, Lady Valerie Gray, the champion of the fictional kingdom of Ampa, stood in the bathroom of her hotel, staring at herself in the mirror. She'd felt cold even in the shower. Her long curls streamed down her shoulder, which bore the bruise from Daniel Masters' own targeted hits.

Her breath hitched as she readjusted her white towel. "This is ridiculous," she breathed. "Why the hell would Vlad bet against me when I can beat the other guy?"

And then she opened up her bathroom door to see one Daniel Masters sitting on her bed, his long hair pulled back in a low ponytail, his lithe and familiar body dressed in modern clothes. "Hello, Valerie," he murmured to her. "You have a bad habit of talking to yourself. You should be careful, lest the wrong ears overhear something."

Her dark fingers tightened on the towel. "The hell? I don't remember giving you a key."

Icy blue eyes raised up to her. "I'm a Masters child," he said, his wide mouth stretching with a wry humor. He leaned back on the bed with a small grimace. "My father owns this hotel through one of his many shell companies. I can do anything I want."

"Including walking in on a girl getting dressed?" she huffed, voice straining to hide her fear.

His head tilted. "No. I'd do that only to you. And even then, only because I've already seen you without the towel." But then something flickered in his gaze, his face pulling with an uncertainty. "You were supposed to come to my room tonight."

In that moment, she did not know Dan and if his friendliness with her was all an act as well. Was he some sort of manipulation tactic that Vlad was using to control her?

Valerie stood there in her towel, her face flushing in a mix of wild emotion. "Tonight?"

He pouted at her. "You injured me, Valerie. I wanted you to kiss me better." And then he began to move to unbutton his shirt. "I know you are occasionally daft, but I thought I made it quite clear."

She hesitated, wringing the white terry cloth of the towel. "Did you…fall from your horse intentionally? Earlier today?"

Those blue eyes flickered back up to her, searching. "Why would I intentionally lose?"

"I don't know," she challenged. "You tell me, along with whatever business you got going on with your dad using the ren fair for some operational cover for big money."

One of Dan's dark brows flew up. But most damningly, there was a spark of recognition in his eyes.

"I don't know the details," she retorted. "But if you don't fess up to all you know, you're definitely not getting anymore kisses or anything from me. Because if all this has been dirty, you're gonna be lucky to walk out of here without a fat lip."

Dan's fingers paused on his shirt. There was a darkness in him—it always reared its head at mention of his father. His hands lowered to his lap, his strong jaw clenching. "What is there to tell? I may pretend to be a champion for a Shadow Kingdom, but my father runs the true shadows."

"So what is it, then? Drugs? Trafficking?" Her voice broke. "Man, I just wanted to joust, you know? Do I need to be calling police?"

"It's not drugs or trafficking," he murmured, his voice softening with a wry sarcasm. "That's what football games are for in this country." His eyes searched hers. "But you have to understand, my father has certain dealings with other businesses. The corporations sponsoring Pariah Dark are quite powerful, and they very much like that Pariah has never lost a match. My father, of course, has his hands dipped in those corporations to sustain the jousting organization itself—and he has no problems fixing certain things for a desired outcome."

Valerie fell silent, waiting for more.

Dan pressed his lips together. Then, his voice turned with an odd pain. "In all this time, I've pretended to be your enemy. The darkness to your light. But we're more alike than you think." He stood up from the bed, his shirt still half-unbuttoned. He towered over her like that, his eyes focusing on her own.

She held her ground, watching him tensely.

Soon, his lips were inches from her own. "We both despise being puppets to someone else's agenda." He raised his hand to stroke her cheek. "That's why I despise him."

Valerie swallowed hard.

"Allow me to guess," he murmured, stroking his thumb across her full lips, "he wants you to take a fall for a big business deal. As he had once demanded of me."

Her eyes carried a vulnerable strain.

Dan brushed back some of her thick, wet curls. "I can protect you, though," he whispered. "If you want to play fair, which I know you do."

"How can you protect me?" she challenged, voice wavering.

His lips stretched in a soft way. He dared to press his forehead against hers, and he murmured, "The betting circles can be…convinced. If you believe you can win against this Pariah Dark, I can place a bet in your favor, and the result will be the return of my father's money, with enhanced returns…to me. And then after I pay him, I will tell him to fuck off, while once against pleading with you to join me as a dark knight. As someone else's champion."

"Nocturne's creepy," she whispered. "I'm not gonna work for a guy like that."

"Then perhaps that blond woman who so looks after you," he murmured. "Maybe she shouldn't have to be a squire for the rest of her life, yes?"

The woman realized then that she was still wrapped in a towel while Dan stood fully clothed. "You'd do that for me?"

Dan leaned forward, his lips brushing against her flushed cheek. "Of course. But only as long as you kiss my bruises away, Valerie dear. My shoulder smarts from you, and I demand cuddles for it."

"Cuddles?" she repeated incredulously.

"I'm a simple man of the Shadow kingdom," he pouted. "I merely desire love and affection." There was a genuine strain of vulnerability in him. "The real kind, even if we are supposed to be enemies."

Valerie hesitated, then raised her free hand. Her dark fingers hooked on the open collar of his shirt, and she pulled it to the side, glancing down. His skin was a pale white, save for a blooming, purple and blue bruise across his collarbone and shoulder. "Yeah. Enemies."

She ran her fingers lightly down his damaged skin.

Dan's own long fingers reached up to trace the blooming bruise along Valerie's shoulder. "And just imagine," he murmured, "how irritated my father would be if after so many attempts to set me up with a high-society bimbo, I married you."

"Is that a proposal?" she demanded.

"One of many." His wide mouth stretched. "If you don't mind."

He moved, his long fingers intertwining with her own.

"You might wear me down," Valerie whispered, a wry humor coming over her as she tightened her fingers around his. "But I'd work on your technique. It kinda sucks. And I don't know how I feel about getting even more mixed up with your whacked-out family."

His blue eyes danced. "Aren't you already mixed up with me on a nightly basis?"

"That's a different kind of mix."

He bumped his nose against hers. "You know the crowds love us," he whispered. "A marriage between us would be the sort of thing average people froth over, and it would absolutely send my father into a well-deserved heart attack."

"…He already knows about us."

"He's counting on this being only an affair." Dan's voice darkened with want. "But you're the only one who has ever unseated me. I should like to be unseated by you in other ways, for as long as possible."

Valerie raised an elegant brow. "You a masochist, then?"

"Something like that." His fingers slid from hers. "Or perhaps I just like seeing the way you light up in victory."

Her eyes searched his for a time. "Yeah?" A strange emotion came over her. "This was supposed to be a big thing for me. To make it to the championship rounds of all this—my dad watching…And now, even if I win against this Pariah guy, Imma be looking over my shoulder because I don't know what the hell your dad will do if I don't follow along."

"Let me worry about my father," he murmured. "I can do things you cannot, and I can make him see the value of continuing to support you even over Pariah Dark." He moved to cup her chin. "You simply focus on doing what you do best."

Valerie narrowed her gaze. "You're being an awfully good sport about losing tonight and helping me."

And Dan's wide mouth split with a dark, merry smile. "Oh, Valerie. My favorite pastime, next to sexing you up and winning tournaments, is irritating my father."

She gave him a flat look.

But her towel ended up rather accidentally falling to the floor, and Dan ended up accidentally losing his clothes in the middle of a heated kiss or two. The soft modern bed at the hotel soon held them both, their hands intertwining over their heads as they made love. And for all the darkness that Dan was, and for all his wild heritage as a millionaire playboy's son, Valerie found herself feeling utterly safe in his arms.

The next day, the renaissance fair bloomed with even more of a crowd than before. The anticipated showdown between Lady Valerie Gray and Lord Pariah Dark packed the fields around the lists, with the multitudes eating popcorn, waving their banners of support—

One Valerie Gray sat atop her horse, gazing out at the crowds as they gathered. Among them was a tall man with long, dark hair, leaning against a post and watching her curiously. Her heart skipped a beat at even the sight of him, for Daniel Masters was very handsome when he wasn't being irritating.

She looked down at her hands, which carried a red rose. As was custom for the fairs, the championships involved an additional theatric of choosing a lord or lady from the crowd to bestow a favor upon.

Her rough heart softened for the briefest of moments.

She wondered what it would mean for her to choose Lord Daniel of the Shadow Kingdom, who was her enemy and yet her very strange protector behind the curtains of their rivalry.

It made her full lips twitch in an odd way.

Meanwhile, the "Emperor" Vladimir Masters sat tensely in his tent, with his red-headed nymphs nowhere to be found. He occasionally glanced at Dan in a nervous way, then back at Valerie, then down at a hidden cellphone where he was no doubt still attempting some kind of deal with the sponsors of Lord Pariah Dark and hedging bets against them both.

Her squire, Dora, fluttered about her, helping to cinch the armored plates across her back. "Do you honestly believe you can take this man on?" she asked tightly, her chin jerking to the opposite end of the lists, where Lord Pariah stood next to his dark horse. The knight was nearly as tall as his horse and excessively more packed with muscle, even in comparison to Dan, which was quite an accomplishment.

Valerie huffed. "Oh, I can beat him, fair and square."

Her heart swelled again. For all of his grumbling, Daniel Masters believed in her.

And that made her feel more powerful than ever. As if for once in her life, all the wild complications and struggles were all working toward a greater good for her—with Dan, ever-watchful from the shadows, his eyes settling on her rose in want for it.

A/N: Hi, all. Guh, I am so sorry for my very extended, months-long absence from the DP archive! I meant to update the previous human AU to finish it out back in February, but with all the COVID stuff, something about that storyline (and larger TUE environment of humans largely struggling to have food, to survive) just hit a little too close to home. The coronavirus outbreak has been pretty hard on me in a lot of ways. So I ended up staring at a blank cursor every single time, feeling more and more hopeless about writing dark gray in a COVID world. But then I realized if I just…did something entirely unrelated, that I would be able to kick out dark gray content again! I'm sure a ren-fair-jousting!AU was not an expected update, but it did feel good to break the mold a little and do something where maybe no one is entirely a true villain or a true hero, but just very, very human. And as things in the real world settle down, I think I'll be able to return to some of the previous threads I've dropped in the meantime.

This chapter is the 75th update to Deliverance, and omg it makes me feel things that we're inching closer to the big 100! Please let me know what you'd like to see updated next. I was thinking I could probs still handle a Karma update, if that still sounds good? I know I need to finish off that thread, haha. It's...been a while as;dfjsfdlj.

In the meantime, I hope you all are staying safe and healthy during this very wild time throughout the world!

If anyone is still out there to enjoy dark gray content, thank you for returning to this collection to read! Please let me know your thoughts, questions, constructive criticisms, or requests! Thank you!