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minmotl · 4 years ago

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Chapter 67: Tang Fan Carries Sui Zhou Out of Danger & They Stare Into Each Other’s Eyes

Context: Continues from Chapter 66. Yin Yuan Hua has died out of stupidity in the previous chapter. Sui Zhou is now unconscious after taking a blow meant for Tang Fan, and it is up to Tang Fan and Qian San Er to help everyone escape. Some loving pre-relationship gazing into each others’ eyes and face-reddening, Tang Fan having to reassure himself with touch that Sui Zhou is alright and alive, and Sui Zhou being so, so relieved that Tang Fan is safe, even if his safety comes at the expense of himself.

Introduction Post | Masterpost

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Highlights under the cut

It is chaos in the main hall.

The hand cannons cannot fire consecutively, and every time they use up the gunpowder, they need to make a refill. This takes up time, and the creature is agile, making it difficult to aim for it. It is only too easy to hurt someone if they are careless.

Sui Zhou has already collapsed and is unconscious, so the commanding authority naturally falls on Pang Qi.

Making use of the opportunity while the creature is still blind in one eye, the rest of the Embroidered Uniform Guards rush forward together and drive the weapons in their hands towards its abdomen, but this is no easy feat. In the blink of an eye, numerous people are swept away.

The center of the main hall lies a coffin and this is originally where the owner of Marquis Gong’s tomb rests. The lid of the coffin is heavy and even using both hands to push at it will not necessarily open it. Right now, both of Li Man’s hands are unable to gather strength, so he uses his body to push at the lid instead, but of course the slab does not budge.

However, thanks to the chaotic situation, everyone’s focus is on combatting the beast, and no one has any time to pay him any attention.

The coffin’s center position would originally have made it easy to be embroiled in the thick of the fight, but due to the fact that the flame above was extinguished earlier, light is centered around scattered flame torches. This is so they can more clearly and accurately see the beast’s weaknesses. Everyone is also unconsciously driving the beast to where there is light.

This has instead made it easier for Li Man. The two men that came in with Li Man have already died here. One of them was used by Li Man as a human shield, and the other had his chest pierced with one of the beast’s claws, dying on the spot immediately.

Li Man obviously does not care about their survival. He has all his attention focused on using his torso to push the coffin lid open, and can only hate that he is not quicker enough. Too bad his body has been trussed up like a dumpling, and he also has to constantly keep tabs on the situation around him and prevent the creature from suddenly turning up before his eyes. Frantic, sweat fills his forehead.

However, just because most people are not paying attention to him, doesn’t mean that no one is paying attention to him.

Just as Li Man is about to use all his energy, he’s raised up from the ground by someone behind him, and is directly dumped next to the coffin.

“What are you doing!”

The next moment, his face receives a heavy, hard slap, and the side of his face immediately swells up like that of a pig’s head, just like what he did to Tang Fan not so long ago.

This is indeed karma - what goes around comes around.

Li Man demands furiously, and then when he sees the other’s face clearly, his fury turns into glee, and with slurred speech, he says, “Little xiongdi, don’t hit me! Don’t hit me! You don’t want to die either, do you? I have a way for escape, don’t let anyone else know!”

Qian San Er squints at him in a cautious stare, and then his expression changes. Picking him up, Qian San Er drags Li Man to the side, barely dodging a gust of wind from a swipe of the beast’s tail. There are not only scales on that tail, but they pierce and possess great strength, so getting swept by this is hardly child’s play.

Qian San Er traps him in a corner, then slaps him again, before spitting, “Weren’t you almighty then, why are you such a weakling now? If it wasn’t for you, my shifu and the rest of them wouldn’t have died!”

Li Man is struck so hard that he’s seeing stars, and if it was any other day, he would have fought back. At this point, however, he forces himself to push the anger away, and reveals a twisted smile, “Your shifu and the rest are already dead, but you are still alive. Do you want to die here like they did?”

Qian San Er, “There’s one more beast outside, how do we escape?”

“I have a way, but you have to loosen my ropes first!”

Don’t look at how righteous he pretended to be earlier in front of Tang Fan, saying that he is willing to die for the Sect. He is an ant that is desperate to live. People like Li Man are people who fear death the more they possess. And as long as there is a way to live, he will not let it go.

Since he is afraid of death, then after luring the beast here, how could he not have a backup plan?

Now that Tang Fan is busy checking Sui Zhou’s injuries, Li Man does not have the energy to care about them over here. After interacting with the man a few times, he’s well aware that the other is one of the most intelligent men he’s known. Before, Tang Fan was in the thick of the plot, which is the only reason why he was carelessly tricked. When Tang Fan finally reacts, he surely will be able to see through his petty tricks, and when that time comes, he will truly die without resting in peace.

And so no matter what, Li Man has to take advantage of this opportunity and run first, leaving Tang Fan and the others to tear each other to shreds with the tomb guarding beast.

He believes that with how ferocious and merciless this beast is, everyone here will definitely be massacred. Then, all they have to do is find a way to transport all the treasures out. From then on, they would have freedom under the skies, and fat chance of officials catching them!

Qian San Er is a thief, he’s not from the courts and for Li Man to tempt him, it naturally comes easy to him.

Li Man says, “You knew this from before, I’m the leader of the White Lotus Sect’s He Nan branch. As long as you follow me, you will never have to hide in secret again! You won’t have to be humiliated by the court’s dogs, hurry, loosen the ropes!”

Qian San Er’s suspicion does not go away, but his eyes reveal that he is slowly being tempted, “Tell me first what the escape route is?”

Li Man coldly laughs to himself inside, then says sincerely, “I don’t mind telling you. That coffin has long been dug empty, from underneath it there is a route that leads directly straight towards Luo River, and when we get there, there will naturally be someone there to meet us!”

Qian San Er grabs at his shirt, “You better not lie to me. If the river and the tomb are connected, the water would have long rushed in, I don’t know how to swim!”

“Stupid, who told you it’s connected to the river!”

Just as he’s done speaking, he’s slapped again, so hard that even the teeth at the back of his mouth were nearly struck out with the force.

Qian San Er glares, “You still fucking dare to scold me!”

Li Man, “…”

Tolerating this and swallowing his anger, Li Man says, “Little xiongdi, I am not lying to you. The other end is connected to the river bank, it’s a little far from here but safety is guaranteed.”

Qian San Er is still doubtful, “Didn’t the beasts also swim in from the river? Before I came in, I saw that the tides of the river water were about to rise, by that time, what if the beasts escape and catch up to us?”

Li Man smiles, the expression cold and ruthless, “Did you forget that my people are outside? Both of them are my most trusted men, I’ve long since made proper arrangements, as long as we leave, they will all die here, be it the fucking people or the beasts! The huge treasures and riches from Marquis Gong’s tomb I got others to hide them earlier, you also saw the scattered pieces before. How can the real treasures compare to those dimly shining ones? All you have to do is go with me, and there is only time for you to enjoy wealth and fortune without limits!”

Qian San Er goes ‘oh’, nodding his head.

Li Man’s heart races with anxiety, “You can let me go now, can’t you!”

Qian San Er asks, “What does ‘dimly shining’ mean?”

Li Man almost throws up blood at that moment. He finally knows that this boy has been lying to him from start to end, and it’s likely that he was just tricking him to reveal details (of the escape route). He obviously does not have any intention to release him!

It is a pity that by the time he understands this, it is too late. Qian San Er has already gotten a hold of a dagger, and then ruthlessly stabs at Li Man’s heart!

Li Man’s eyes go wide in disbelief. Until the moment he dies, he is unable to understand why Qian San Er would have wanted to kill him.

Qian San Er retrieves the dagger from Li Man’s chest without hesitation. The other’s blood splatters on his face, and is wiped away along with his tears.

“…Shifu, I’ve finally gotten revenge for you!” he mumbles.

He gets to his feet and yells at Tang Fan and the rest, “Tang-daren, Li Man says there is an exit from inside the coffin towards the Luo River, we don’t have to run outside!”

When everyone hears this, their spirits are reinvigorated. Originally, everyone that there was only one way out, but the door is already blocked. Although they will be able to kill this tomb guarding beast here as long as they use all their strength, but there’s another one keeping guard outside. Thus, everyone was slowly despairing.

However, at this moment, Qian San Er’s words have given them new hope of survival.

Tang Fan shouts, his voice low, “Pang Qi, don’t persist in the fight, fight while you’re retreating!

Within the main hall, wherever the beast’s body sweeps across, its shrill wails echo, and along with it the howling wind. Although it is hurt, everyone else is barely hanging on. The other beast waiting outside, which was supposed to prepare to grab their food from the one inside, is already impatient, and its body shifts inwards slightly. Its blood red eyes stare at the humans in the main hall, and its sharp teeth are revealed.

Pang Qi manages to take a breath and turns back, then shouts with all his strength, “Daren, how his da-ge?!”

“He’ll live!” Tang Fan hauls Sui Zhou onto his back, then runs for the coffin.

Qian San Er has already gone over to push the coffin lid half open, revealing the wooden board underneath. He then peels the wooden board back, and he does see the dark entry way into the hole.

Delighted, Qian San Er shouts at Tang Fan and the rest of them, “Tang-daren, we can go down from here, Li Man didn’t lie to us!”

“Let’s go!” Tang Fan commands, and everyone starts to shift towards the center of the main hall.

Both tomb guarding beasts seem to realise what they’re trying to do, and rush towards them, bringing with them a gust of wind stained with the sharp stench of blood. The one that was hurt is exceptionally insane, and its attacks are stronger than before. Pang Qi and the rest are slowly losing the ability to hold them off. Another Embroidered Uniform Guard is not able to dodge in time and his throat is directly bitten.

Pang Qi is battling uncontrollably, but he doesn’t have any choice. The fighting power on both sides are entirely on different levels.

At this moment, a loud explosion resounds, and even the ground beneath their feet start to sway, shaking so much that everyone is almost unable to stand up straight.

Both beasts were going to attack the rest of them, but after the shock of that, they stop in their tracks for a moment.

Tang Fan’s expression changes slightly. He finally knows what Li Man’s plans were, but he doesn’t have much time to say anything at the moment, and can only shout, “Hurry and go! This place is about to collapse soon!”

Qian San Er ventures down the hole first, then turns around to help Tang Fan. Tang Fan first sends Sui Zhou down, then yells at Pang Qi, “Why aren’t you leaving!”

Pang Qi still wanted to kill the beast while it is still injured, but after the other one came in, he realises that this is an impossible mission. He can only begrudgingly give up and retreat to nearby the coffin. They shift into the hole in the coffin while the beasts are still stunned.

At this point, the entire underground tomb is shaking more and more intensely, and even the walls and the ground are sporting cracks quickly, visible with their naked eyes. Loud bursts of sounds echo one after another, far away and near, and everyone’s ear drums are close to bursting.

The two beasts look around them, stunned, and seeing that Tang Fan and the rest are leaving one by one, they shriek once and make to chase after them. Pang Qi, who is the last one, simply throws his xiuchun blade, slightly interrupting their forward momentum. He then holds onto his shoulder and dives into the coffin.

Behind him, along with the huge crackling and collapsing noises, the main hall’s stone walls fall after exploding, and even the stone piece at the top crashes downwards, heavily slamming on top of the coffin and cutting off the terrifying wails of the beasts.

In the long, narrow passage, everyone’s breaths are harsh. The sound of the explosions seems very far away, but the underground passage is also affected and keeps shaking endlessly. Above their heads, loose pieces of rock constantly drop, and some of the bigger ones can make anyone’s head bleed.

“Hurry, any later this place might collapse!” Tang Fan urges the rest of them to walk faster.

Qian San Er is at the front, carrying Sui Zhou on his back as he walks, while Tang Fan stays at the back to look out for everyone. Because of Sui Zhou’s protection earlier, he did not incur much injuries, but he does have small wounds here and there. Add to that his strength being severely depleted, his pallor is not any better than anyone else’s.

To be more accurate, if he didn’t have something to hold on to right now, he would have collapsed much earlier. But no one would think that Tang Fan, who knows no martial arts, is a burden. After all, if it wasn’t for his earlier planning, the number of people who are able to walk here right now would certainly be much lesser.

The White Lotus Sect did spend a lot of effort here - this passage has been dug in a way that makes it much wider than the one Qian San Er and the rest of them used earlier. It’s not that difficult to walk either, so it seems that the sect was already eyeing this tomb from a year before. They started there, and the only troublesome thing was that they needed to shift the treasures out before they could fully demolish the tomb, which is why they’ve delayed progress until now.

It is too bad that they faced Qian San Er and then Tang Fan, these two batches of people, and in their schemes to deal them with harm, they ended up being murdered instead. Even Li Man himself is buried in there. As people always say, as much as one would scheme, they may end up endangering their own lives in the end.

Qian San Er already told Tang Fan Li Man’s dying words. Li Man’s words are half truth and half lies, and he is always trying to manipulate and toy with him. Before Li Man died, he even hid the fact that they had gunpowder in the tomb, wanting to make use of the opportunity to deal them one last blow and kill them together with the tomb guarding beasts with the explosion.

Just by this point alone, Tang Fan does not dare to fully believe in what he said. However, when Li Man told Qian San Er that this passage leads to outside, and there is someone to receive them, these parts should be real.

Judging by Li Man’s selfishness, that pile of treasures certainly have to be placed right under his eyes for him to feel safe, so it would be impossible for him to let any of his men take the treasures first and flee.

In the process of walking forward, Tang Fan would frequently test for Sui Zhou’s pulse. Only when he finds that there is movement under his fingertip does he feel slightly assured.

They do not know for how long they have walked, and Qian San Er’s footsteps suddenly pause, “Daren, the exit seems to be in front.”

He puts Sui Zhou down, walks over and reaches out to touch, before turning around and saying in a low voice, “Seems like there is something pressing on top of it.”

Tang Fan indicates for everyone to keep silent and gets Qian San Er to come over and take care of Sui Zhou. He then walks over to where Qian San Er was standing previously and begins exploring. This is indeed the end, and the only exit is above.

Tang Fan meticulously touches the object that is pressing on the exit and then knocks on it lightly, putting his hand to his nose and sniffing.

“It’s a box, and it should be storage for clothes,” he says.

“How do you know that its a storage box for clothes?” Qian San Er asks, stunned.

“That wood is pear wood, and most people will not use wood like this to store miscellaneous items, so this is definitely a box. If the items inside are too heavy, then it would be very difficult for Li Man and the rest to go out, and I also smelt it earlier. There’s the smell of camphor wood grease, so it definitely is used to store objects that are easily bitten by insects, so it can only be storing clothes and garments.”

Qian San Er is entirely impressed. He touched the object earlier for a bit, but didn’t come up with any conclusions. Now that he hears Tang Fan say this, he experiences an epiphany of sorts.

Then looking at Pang Qi and the rest of them, they seem to have already gotten used to Tang-daren’s observation and deduction skills, his exceptional intelligence.

Tang Fan does not know that he has gotten himself another follower. He helps Sui Zhou up and adjusts him so that he’s in a more comfortable position to conveniently lean against his hold.

He says, “It should be another meeting point for the White Lotus Sect above. Earlier when we left, I took note and according to this distance and direction, this house should be on the outskirts of town. But what we can’t confirm is if there are any White Lotus Sect men outside, and if there are, how many of them.”

Feeling the impacts of the gunpowder back in the tomb, the passage has been dropping loosened pieces of stone constantly. As the magnitude of the shaking becomes increasingly greater, who knows how much powerful gunpowder Li Man and his men buried in there in order to obtain such an effect.

Everyone is tolerating the stale air, and staying in a dangerous passage that will collapse at any time is not an easy thing. A lot of them have already lost too much blood and are dizzy and unsteady. Those who are injured more severely, like Sui Zhou who is unconscious, can only be supported by their companions who are injured to a lesser degree.

When these domineering Embroidered Uniform Guards joined the Northern Administrative Court, they probably never expected to one day end up in such a pathetic situation. Twenty odd men entered (the tomb), and here in the passage, there are only less than ten of them.

But compared to Li Man’s tragic case, their current situation is considered an improved one. The dead have passed, but the ones left behind have to do their best to live.

Pang Qi cannot help but say, “Daren, let’s rush out, we may still have a way to survive!”

And yet, Tang Fan shakes his head, “No. Use your blade and open the box according to edges of the exit. if it’s all garments inside, there will be no sound when they fall, and then we can use that as a cover to make some observations first before proceeding.”

Pang Qi feels that this method is too wishy-washy, and cannot help but retort, “Why go to so much trouble? We don’t know how long more we can hold on, and the more we delay this, the smaller our chances of victory!”

Tang Fan only uses one sentence to refute and stop everyone’s protests, “Guang Chan handed all of you over to me, so I must do my best to ensure that more people survive.”

***

After Lady Chen helped Li Man to give birth to a son, and then handed the child over to a nearby family to raise, she herself then began to safeguard this little house, waiting for Li Man and the rest to bring over greater amounts of treasures from the tomb.

As the time they have arranged to meet has long gone and past, and Li Man and his men have yet to turn up, Lady Chen is also afraid of the beasts in the tomb and does not dare to go over and look for them. After waiting for several days, they believed that Li Man and the rest died inside, and she began to think about obtaining the treasures for herself.

Lady Chen is naturally promiscuous and is not a good, virtuous wife. After being with Li Man, she controlled herself slightly, but Li Man is after all an aging man and even with the best of disguises and illusions, his stamina cannot compare to that of a young man’s.

Now that Li Man is most likely dead, Lady Chen no longer has anything to worry about and starts to deliberately seduce the other members of the sect.

She is beautiful and gorgeous, and no man can resist her seduction, so when Tang Fan and the rest of them get here, Lady Chen and several other men are having fun in bed, so much so that they do not know what day it is even. Li Man probably would never have guessed even till his death that his woman so quickly began to mess around with other men. If he knew this, he probably would be so mad, enough for him to rise from the dead, and then die out of anger again.

This gave Pang Qi and the rest of them an advantage, however. While the few people in bed were tussling in the sheets, they emerged, and Lady Chen and the other men were all killed in bed before they could even react.

Wanting to take Lady Chen alive, however, Pang Qi and the others neglected to take note and gave her the opportunity to scream, which drew the attention of other disciples of the sect outside.

Both sides quickly are embroiled in a ferocious, intends battle. The glint of swords and blades flash on then spot, and blood splatters everywhere.

Theoretically, these disciples should not be of their match, but Pang Qi and the rest of them have lost too much energy and stamina before, so are unable to put in their best in the fight, seemingly struggling.

Tang Fan cannot fight and so will not go forth and become anyone’s burden. He can only watch from the sides.

He pats Qian San Er on the shoulder, “You did well today, this is all because of you!”

Immensely flattered, Qian San Er becomes incredibly excited. He has been stealing since young ever since he followed his shifu, and they’ve always been on the opposite side of officials and the courts, but now he even obtained the praise of an official envoy!

“Da, Da.. Daren’s praise, I truly do not deserve it!”

Seeing how excited he is, a smile emerges on Tang Fan’s exhausted face, “You were not tempted by Li Man and did not lower yourself to join him. This is enough to prove that you are not a bad person. Your shifu is no longer around, so do not involve yourself in illegal petty crimes anymore. When you’ve done too many bad things, you will eventually be punished for it. When you go back, find a legal way to support yourself!”

Qian San Er suddenly kneels down in front of Tang Fan, “I’ve already wanted to stop committing crimes and doing those things, but aside from those, I don’t know how to do anything else either. I beg daren to please point out a clear alternative for me!”

This person immediately went with the flow, and Tang Fan does not feel repulsed by this, instead thinking that Qian San Er is rather smart. This boy also has a good heart, and is a talent that can be folded, “We’ll talk when we get back.”

With these words, Qian San Er knows that Tang Fan has agreed and is delighted, kowtowing to Tang Fan three times in a row, the sound of his head hitting the ground bright and loud.

Who knew that Qian San Er used too much force in putting his head to the ground, and the intense battle before them was unable to wake Sui Zhou up, but the sound of his head hitting the ground has Sui Zhou’s brows furrowing.

Realising the movements of the person in his arms, Tang Fan looks down, and beams, “Guang Chuan, you’re awake, are you okay?”

Sui Zhou opens his eyes slowly, and the first thing he sees is Tang Fan’s concerned and anxious expression.

Sui Zhou, “Pfft!”

Tang Fan, “…”

What is this reaction? Did he hit his head and become silly?

Tang Fan cannot resist and feels for the other’s forehead, his gaze meeting Sui Zhou’s smiling eyes.

Tang-daren seems to have forgotten that he received a slap from Li Man earlier down in the tombs, and this led to swelling on one side of his face, swelling which has not yet gone down. His handsome, elegant image has been changed into that of a pig’s head, akin to the ones placed on ancestral offering tables. Seeing such a face, Sui Zhou cannot help but want to laugh.

However, after laughing, his heart melts more and more on the inside. He gazes at Tang Fan, and in his head only one thought is left.

Thankfully, this person is alright. Then no matter how severe he’s hurt, it is all worth it.

“… and Li Man?” Sui Zhou asks, his voice hoarse.

“Dead, Qian San Er killed him,” Tang Fan says.

Qian San Er fidgets, embarrassed, and he is about to make some humble proclamations, but Sui Zhou is not even looking at him.

Only one person can fit in the rectangular world he can see through his eyes. Both of their gazes meet, bringing with it a type of intimacy and flirtation that even Tang Fan himself does not realise.

And then, under Qian San Er’s eyes, Tang-daren, whose face is thicker than the walls of the Great Wall, slowly reddens.

===

Notes:

*萤囊之光 ying nang zhi guang

This is used to refer to the dim light that poor scholars use when they study at night, as they are unable to afford candles whenever they need them, they have to use them sparingly. However, scholars cannot skip out on studying at night just because they cannot afford more candles, and can only light them minimally - in this case, it’s referring to gold that does not shine as brightly as real, authentic gold. It’s a little hard to translate exactly in this context, especially as Qian San Er asks what this means later, so I changed it a little, but Qian San Er, who had not studied much, is asking what the ying nang means.

*五体投地 wu ti tou di

This literally means to falls flat on the ground entirely - in this context, it’s used as a metaphor to say that Qian San Er is entirely convinced without a single shred of doubt.

*夜路走多了，总会遇到鬼的

This is an idiom of sorts - what it literally means is that if you frequently walk in the night, you will at some point see a ghost. It’s usually used to describe someone doing something bad/committing crime - Qian San Er as a thief ‘walking the roads at night’ = committing crime and stealing, one of these days he will ‘meet a ghost’ = get into trouble basically.

#tsomd #成化十四年 #cheng hua shi si nian #cheng hua's fourteenth year #the sleuth of ming dynasty #tsomd novel #translations #fanzhou #suitang #sui zhou #tang fan

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7deadlycinderellas · 5 years ago

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in the dark of the moon, i planted, 3/4

Ao3 link

The snow falls lightly as Arya pursues the Brotherhood’s boy on Nan’s back.

As she rides away from the inn, she tries to ignore the pain in her heart. Leaving in the morning had been harder than she had ever expected, even knowing she would soon return.

She’d taken the knife she’d given Gendry, a more practical weapon. She’d left Needle on her side of the bed, a promise to return. As if he wouldn’t know from the half dozen kisses she’d pressed on him, in front of a couple of the children even.

The boy is easy enough to follow. The snow is not heavy enough to hide his tracks, and Nan rides slowly enough that Arya can match their tracks with his, not that she thinks anyone would be following her.

The ride takes near a day, Arya pushing Nan’s pace, slow enough that they don’t need to rest. She eats the bread and cheese she took from the inn while still in the saddle. Eventually, she hears noise ahead, that tells her the boy has met up with other members of the Brotherhood. She takes to riding parallel to the road after that, hidden in the trees, Nan’s gentle gait keeping them from making too much noise.

She listens closely, trying to make out the conversation.

“Two of them this time?” the boy asks.

“One is a woman, the other practically a boy. Picked them both up coming south, the woman’s carrying a Lannister sword.”

Arya’s stomach sinks.

“You ever think of just letting these poor fucks go?”

“If we didn’t catch any, the Lady might start hanging us instead.”

There’s a rough laugh, but there is no mirth in it.

Arya continues to follow. The day goes on, and the sky gets darker and darker. Days are short in winter, after all, and the snowy sky can’t help. By the time the men begin to slow, the sky is nearly black. They meet up with other riders, one of whom is leading the horse with two figures aboard, bags over their heads.

Eventually, they reach an area where the trees are heavier and the ground slopes upward. Arya dismounts Nan, ties her to a tree, and begins following on foot. She pulls her own cloak tight over her face.

The crowd grows, and Arya only recognizes a few of the men. They all stand around in a clearing near a cave opening on the side of the hill. About half of them look drunk, and half of both groups have bags under their eyes, eyes that are wide, as though they’ve been frightened for a long, long time.

In the back, Arya stills, when she recognizes Thoros of Myr. He sits at the head of a fire, next to another seated figure, wearing a cloak with a heavy hood.

One of the Brotherhood pulls the prisoners from their horses, their hands tied and heads still bagged.

The hooded figure stands, and Arya can’t really hear much of the conversation. One of the Brotherhood pulls the bags off the prisoner’s heads, and Arya squints to try and get a look at them.

One is tall and fair, and something about how they’re standing makes Arya think it’s a woman. The other isn’t tall at all, and his broad face seems almost simple. With a twinge, Arya realizes he doesn’t even look as old as Gendry.

There’s argument, and yelling on both sides. The hooded figure raises a finger and there’s more arguing. She pulls a sword from the taller figure, examines it and her voice gets louder and more insistent, though Arya still can’t make out the words. One of the other men begins to shout in return, when Thoros stands, speaks, and his words quiet the crowd.

Carefully, Arya steps closer, mindful of the crunching of the snow. She manages to make out him saying,

“It’s late, we’ll pass the sentence at dawn.”

The men disperse, and the fire dies down. The hooded figure is led by Thoros back to the cave.

The man who lays down to sleep outside the cave is one who to Arya looks the most drunk. She wonders if it’s his job as guard that drives him to drink, or if he just drew the short straw tonight. She gives him enough time until she can hear him snoring deeply. That was just one of the Brotherhood’s problems, they were far too fond of their drink. Or maybe it was their work that led them to drink.

As she approaches, Arya feels fear rise in her throat. She’s felt fear so very many times, fear for her own life, fear for others whom she loved, fear as she was utterly certain that she was about to come face to face with the stranger. This is an entirely different sort of fear. At least when she feared death, her fear would come to an end. She doesn’t know where this will go.

She remembers before, how worried she was when she was with the Brotherhood, how she had wondered if her mother would take one look at how dirty she was, and send her back. Her mother and her have never seen eye to eye on things, but she’d always been sure she loved her, or so she thought.

Maybe it won’t matter. Maybe her gut it wrong and it won’t matter.

The cave is small, but Arya is still quite small, though she suspects she’s reached her full adult height. She creeps, as quietly as possible, and eventually the cavern opens up into a larger area, large enough for a fire and a bedroll.

The hooded figure sits upright at the sound of her approach. The hood falls, and Arya’s breath is stolen from her chest.

Her hair is shock pale and half gone. Her face seems to be made of wet paper, still bearing the scratches from before her death. She is Catelyn Stark, or she used to be anyway.

Her eyes frighten Arya. She’s never been frightened of her mother before.

And the wound that took her life, the gaping slash across her throat still hangs open. When she opens her mouth, her hands reach up to pinch it shut.

“Who are you?” the thin raspy voice demands.

Arya remembers how unsure she was at the thought of her mother seeing her again, seeing her ragged and living among rough men. She’s still unsure, at her seeing her now, grown and broken.

Instead of speaking, Arya merely lowers her hood.

“Mother.”

Lady Stoneheart approaches, and touches both sides of her face. The touch chills Arya, down to her bone, and the Lady’s expression makes it worse.

Arya feels her hand linger on her knife.

An hour or so later, Arya emerges from the cave, and wipes the blood from her knife. As silently as possible, she uses the bedroll to pull the body. She’s grateful, this night, for all the wood chopping and child wrangling she’d done in the last years.

She has no way to build a raft, and the nearest water is more of a stream than a river. She has no arrows, so she simply lights a stick from the embers of the campfire and tucks it into her arms before setting the corpse adrift.

And for a moment, she sits on the bank and weeps. She weeps for her mother, for all her hopes, that thing in the cave was not her. Her mother died at the Twins, even though her body found a way to keep moving a little longer.

She hadn’t know she would have to set her mother free, but during the time it the cave, there was nothing else she could do.

She thinks on the Lady’s words, how she had cried out to her daughter for vengeance against every Lannister, every Frey. She hates that she has often felt the same urge, longed for the same blood to spill. She likes to think she wouldn’t stoop low enough to condemn two people to death over a sword.

For Lady Stoneheart had admitted, that was the only evidence they had against the two prisoners.

She weeps at the thought of what her father would think, of what had become of his wife, of his daughter. Ned Stark was an honorable man they always said. He would swing the sword himself, not have a band of men hang his condemned.

Would she have ended up just as bloodthirsty if she hadn’t found Gendry again, hadn’t found the inn and surrounded herself again with people?

She remembers Polliver, and that man outside the Twins. How sweet their deaths had been, yet how her heart still felt as empty and dead as the Lady’s face afterwards.

She stands, and pulls her cloak up again. She looks down the road, towards where she left Nan. She gazes further, back to the inn. It’s late, and Arya’s bones ache with exhaustion, but she could be back before tomorrow night if she rode now. She could be back in Gendry’s arms before another moon could rise.

But she cannot be Lady Stoneheart, she cannot be heartless.

The prisoners are being kept tied to a tree, their heads still bagged. Arya cuts their ties, and she feels the taller one rouse.

“Quiet,” she whispers, “And follow me.”

The three figures step carefully through the snow, Arya looping around to muddy their footprints in the snow. Eventually, they reach where she has Nan tied, and Arya is ecstatic that she is still there, not stolen or released. She pulls the bags off both of the prisoner’s heads.

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be traveling these parts with a Lannister sword? Not just this bunch would take exception to it. Nearly this whole kingdom still suffers under the heel of the crown,” she asks, keeping her voice low, and her hood tight.

The taller one- the woman- answers.

“The sword was given to me to keep an oath, and I intend to do so.”

Arya raises an eyebrow

“A knight then? What sort of oath might that be?”

“I’m no knight,” the woman starts, and Arya suspects she’s said the same words too many times. “My name is Brienne of Tarth. This sword was given to me to protect the daughters of the deceased Lord, Ned Stark.”

Arya is momentarily struck dumb, but Brienne continues.

“I have aided in the return of his eldest to her place in Winterfell, and I intend to do the same for the younger.”

Arya’s breath is stolen from her.

“Winterfell was taken by the Boltons after they betrayed the Starks at the Twin..”

Brienne shakes her head.

“It was retaken. Lady Sansa was in the Vale for a time, in disguise and under the guardianship of Lord Baelish. She initially refused my help, but I stayed close.”

Arya’s heart leaps. If she had stayed with the Hound, would she have been reunited with her sister?

“She discovered that Baelish intended to wed her to Ramsey Snow. She came to me then, and while Baelish was in King’s Landing, she revealed herself and marshalled the support of the other lords and knights of the Vale. I rode with her north to Castle Black to see her half-brother Jon Snow, and where Lord Stannis Baratheon had been planning to unseat the Boltons with his own army.”

Arya is still disbelieving. She does note that Brienne calls Stannis Lord rather than King. And she is elated to learn Jon is apparently still alive, even if still at the wall.

“It’s good we did too. Without the support of the Knights of the Vale, Stannis’s army might well have splintered after the rumors that the priestess with him was pushing him for a blood sacrifice to ensure their victory.”

Arya’s hands fly up to cover her mouth. As much as she wants to believe her home belongs to Starks again, the idea of Stannis, of her having set foot there makes her want to be sick.

“Do you believe it would have worked.”

Brienne’s smile is grim, and Arya suspects she shares in her distaste for Stannis, though she doubts it’s for the same reason.

“The two armies were victorious, but Stannis and his wife were killed in the battle, and there has been no sign of the Red Woman. Stannis’s daughter Shireen was stolen away from camp by Stannis’s hand when he deserted, she is at Winterfell under Lady Stark’s protection. Some of Stannis’s men who remain alive seem to believe she would have been the chosen sacrifice.”

Arya’s insides twist. Gendry was bad enough, the worst to her mind, but she cannot fathom a man who could convinced, through any means, to murder his own daughter.

“Shall I begin to spread this story among the south then?” Arya asks, trying to keep her voice light.

“I will remain in the south until I find Arya Stark. I don’t suppose you’ve heard any word? A highborn girl, though she might not look it, perhaps seven and ten years old now, with brown hair and gray eyes?”

Arya squeezes her eyes shut beneath her hood. She forces her mind to recall all the people she has pretended to be since she had last been herself: Nan, Arry, Arya with no family name.

“I may have,” she admits, and Brienne’s face lights up, even the quiet boy beside her looking pleased. “But I don’t know if she will go with you. She’s become awful untrusting.”

“If you could-”

Arya remains quiet.

“I will speak to her. If she is willing to meet you, where shall I tell her to go?”

The quiet boy speaks up.

“Last time we came through here, there was a boy at the inn at the Crossroads who knew her. Might she be more open to it if there was someone there she already knew?”

The boy is clearly not as simple as he looks, and this is confirmation that these are the same people Hot Pie mentioned speaking to those years ago.

“I will speak to her. Do you know how to get to the Crossroads from here?”

Brienne looks at the boy (she thinks Hot Pie said his him was Patrick or something), who looks, even in the moonlight, rather worn.

“We will rest for tonight and set off in the morning.”

Arya nods.

“There’s a bridge out, so you may need to go around the long way. It shouldn’t be more than a few days walk.”

“Will we still have to worry about the Brotherhood?” Patrick-or-something asks.

“They remain in these woods, but their Lady will be calling for no more hangings. Without her, they are no more dangerous than any other. They claim to fight for the smallfolk, sometimes they even do.”

“We should go north as soon as possible.” Brienne insists, “Lord Baelish has no doubt heard from his many spies what has happened up north even if the smallfolk have not, and somehow I doubt he will be proud of his ward going around his back like that.”

Not like that was his style at all, Arya thought grimly

She mounts Nan and nods to them, before riding off.

It’s close to the middle of the night, the moon high in the sky, but Arya can’t bear to stop to rest. She pushes Nan on, rubbing the old mare’s neck in gratitude and promises her so many sugar cubes for the friend and stolid stead she has been for her all these years.

They keep riding and Arya tries to keep her mind off the Brotherhood, or the perverse thing in her mother’s skin. She thinks of Gendry, back at the inn, and imagines Sansa, at home in Winterfell.

Would Sansa be happy to see her? Was Winterfell even still home?

Arya thinks she hears someone riding behind her at some point, and turns in the saddle. When the sound gets louder, she pulls the reins and dismounts, holding her knife.

The long gray snout is the first thing she sees, and then the dark gold eyes appear.

“Nymeria?”

Arya approaches her apprehensively, one hand extended. Her stomach threatens to leap into her chest. Nymeria’s teeth begin to show and Arya feels her chest tighten, but then she extends her tongue and laps at her hand. When Nymeria quits licking, she rolls onto her back and Arya explodes with glee.

They ride so long that she gets to see the sun come up, in that moment that the snow has paused. Her eyes droop, but she will not stop. Nymeria trots on beside her.

It’s close to noon and the clouds have closed and the snow has begun to fall again when the inn comes into sight and Arya’s heart sings.

When she enters the clearing to the front of the inn, Nymeria sits on her stomach between two trees, watching her.

“I know,” Arya tells her, “You’ve been wild for so long, you’re not a pet. I would not ask you to go among people.”

She’s untacking Nan at the stable, and brushing her and filling her trough from their meager bag of oats, when she hears a squeal.

“Willow! Arya’s back!”

She doesn’t see which of the children run past yelling that, but it puffs her up all the same.

When she comes in the front door of the inn, Willow interrupts her scrubbing to come up to her.

“Arya!” she says, excitedly, squeezing her shoulders, “Never leave again, if you must, at least take Gendry with you, he’s been miserable to be around the last day and half.”

“Really?” Arya asks, her voice feeling strangely small.

Willow nods.

“Snapping at the boys, not eating his meals. He’s out in the forge now if you want to see him.”

Getting off Nan, Arya’s exhaustion has hit her like a sack of bricks. But she has to see Gendry before she goes upstairs.

He’s in the forge to be sure. The fire’s lit, and he appears to be beating the hell out of a hinge. He’s removed his shirt, and is shining with perspiration.

Arya stands back, enjoying the show.

As soon as he puts down his tools, she’s upon him, cheek pressed against his chest, inhaling in his scent. She doesn’t want to shock him with the touch, but she can’t help wanting to hug him.

“You shouldn't go around being mean to people just because I’m gone,” she sniffs against his chest. When she pulls back, the look he has on his face, watching her, eyes wide and grinning. It makes the breath disappear from her throat.

“You’re back,” is all he says.

Arya smiles.

“I am. I have so much to tell you too, but…”

She yawns.

“I really need a nap. If I’m not up for supper, wake me. I’ll eat and bathe, and then I’ll tell you everything.”

She holds both of his hands in her own for what seems a lifetime before she pulls away and heads upstairs.

She doesn’t even change, just pulls off her boots, flops onto the bed, and sleeps.

The dreams come again, images of the Lady’s hanging face, her pointing finger, how little blood there had been on the knife. She dreams she kills her again, but the figure keeps rising, and squeezes its hands over her neck, squeezing out the life from her, again and again…

She’s eventually woken by a hand on her back, and jerks a little.

“You alright?” Gendry asks.

“Sorry,” she says, “Bad dreams.”

“Well, supper’s ready.”

Arya’s stomach growls, and she laughs. Gendry grabs her hand.

“C’mon, lets get food in you.”

Arya sits up and just looks him up and down for a moment.

“My mother would have hated you,” she blurts out.

Gendry steps back a moment, and Arya feels awful for a second. She stands, and continues.

“She would have hated you. Even aside your low birth, your dirty profession and your being bastard.”

She reaches out and grabs him.

“And not even a little bit of that matters, because it doesn’t matter to me.”

Her eyes radiate sincerity as she stands on her toes to kiss him.

“What on earth happened to you out there?” Gendry asks.

She throws an arm around him. Her stomach growls.

“Let’s go eat and I’ll tell you everything.”

Supper is just a thin soup and sawdust thinned bread, but it fills Arya up all the same. In fact, she’s quite glad that it’s not too heavy on her stomach as her and Gendry sit in their corner of the kitchen and she tells him everything that’s happened in the last day and a half.

His face goes through every single emotion it seems, horror, fear, joy. He looks horrified when she tells of what had become of her mother, confirmed that whatever his faults, Beric had given up his life for that. There’s a bit of petty joy in his eyes when she tells of Stannis’s death and the Red Woman’s vanishes. But when she tells him,

“Brienne should be here in a few days, and if we don’t linger we should be able to get to Winterfell before the worst of winter begins.”

His face sticks on sadness, defeated sadness. Arya’s stomach drops.

“What?”

Gendry looks away from her, hiding his face.

“I guess this is goodbye then.”

Arya feels her insides go cold.

“You don’t want to come with me?” she asks, her voice small.

His face shifts.

“Do you want me too?”

“Of course I do, you bloody idiot!” she exclaims, jumping to her feet. Her voice takes on a shrill, yelling tone, though she’s still trying to keep it down .

“We’ve been living together, sleeping in the same bed for over two years! We slept in the mud and sleet together, just so we could keep each other safe! You found me when I was in the worst period of my life and kept me from drowning in it!”

She burns as she says it. All these years, and he still thinks of her as “milady”, somehow more important than him, as if he could ever be unimportant. Her voice softens.

“After all of that and you think I would leave you behind? Didn’t I just promise you that I wouldn’t?”

He’s still seated, so she’s looking him straight in the eye. She spares a look around the inn, to where Hot Pie is clearing the supper dishes, and Willow comes in to help wash up, listens to the sounds of the orphans laughter echoing through the walls.

“I could be happy here,” she says, her voice quiet, “With you, and the children, and Jeyne and Willow and Hot Pie. I could be happy here forever. But I want you to see Winterfell, I want my brother and sister to meet you. I want them to know what you’ve done for me.”

He reaches out and carefully wraps his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I couldn’t sleep last night without you,” he admits, “the bed felt empty, but it still smelled like you. I thought it would be easier if I just got used to you being gone, so that it wouldn’t hurt all over again if you left again.”

Arya wiggles and kisses the side of his neck.

“I promised you something else before I left.” she whispers, a hint of lust, “And I intend to keep that promise.”

She pulls back, and Gendry’s pupils are so large his eyes look black.

“I need to close up the forge,” he says.

“And I need a bath,” Arya replies.

He nods, and stands.

“I’ll meet you upstairs.”

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #gendrya #fic

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wolfpawn · 6 years ago

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Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 10

Chapter Summary - Tom and Alexianna meet after their on phone discussion and talk more.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Request if you wish to be tagged

Tags: @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1

Tom smiled brightly when he saw Alexianna walking towards him. 'Hello.'

'Hi,' she toyed with some of her hair anxiously. 'How was your mum's?'

'It was wonderful, everyone was asking for you.'

'Emma texted me.' Tom smiled at her expectantly. 'She wants to catch up.'

'Are you okay with that?'

'Yes, I am, I just...I don't know how I will deal with the Jonathon thing.'

'You should be honest.'

'Oh, I will be, I just don't know how she will react and I hate the pity.'

'You don't need pity.' Tom agreed, 'Just tell her, before you mention anything that you don't want pity or other comments, that you just want to tell her and to leave it at that.'

'And Lily?'

'She's your daughter, he may have given her some genetics, but she is not his, she is yours.'

'I don't regret her. I regret him, terribly, but not her.'

I would hope not, she's your daughter.' Tom smiled. 'She looks like you actually.'

'She has blonde curly hair.' She held out some of her own brown hair.

'That's not everything, she has your eyes, your smile.'

'She has paler skin than I am.'

'She's a little English rose. With pale skin, Lily is a perfect name. Though I have to say, people associate lilies with death.'

'I named her after my nan.'

'Oh, I recall, she died when you were about...ten, was it?'

'Eleven, so yeah, about then. It drove Marie mad, she always hated Lily.'

'Anything would drive her mad, that's not a feat.' Alexi laughed. 'Where is she now?'

'Daniel has her, he is going to Scotland again tonight, so he is bringing her to the cinema before he leaves.'

'What will you do for a childminder then?'

'I will have to study more at home, obviously, so less coffee shops, but I'll have to bring her with me once a week to get all the downloading done for my coursework.'

'What about cleaning?'

'I will bring her to the houses. She just sits and plays on my phone or colours. I keep a few DVD's ready to occupy her too.'

'You're incredible.'

'I am trying, nothing more.' She dismissed.

'You are doing an incredible job, Lexi.' He opened the door of the coffee shop. They ordered, Tom insisted on paying and sat in a quiet corner. 'I know you probably don't want to rush into her and I meeting properly, but I got her something, I hope you don't mind.'

'Tom, you don't need too.' Alexianna scolded.

'Please, my niece Sophie, she loves hers so I thought it would be nice, I noticed she has everything in this at your place.' He help out the bag he had been holding. Alexianna took it and glanced inside. 'She's a Paw Patrol fan, right?'

'Fanatic is the only word for it, my head is wrecked with it, thank you, you are too kind.' She smiled, looking at the backpack. 'She is going to want that for school.'

'She is starting in September?'

'Stop, she is growing up too fast. She is going to the one just up the hill from us, I was so happy she got there, it's close and it's good.'

'You moved there specifically, didn't you?'

Alexianna shrugged. 'You have to live in certain areas to get into certain schools.'

'Good move.'

'She'll get a good education there. I mean, it's not what I had, but a normal school in a good area is everything she needs.'

'What is she like? Lily?'

Alexianna gave a small smile. 'She is a good child, honestly, she has been since the start. Happy, energetic, bossy and strong willed.' She smiled fondly as she spoke of her daughter. 'She is perfect.' Tom grinned at her expression. 'She was shy with you there, but she is actually that clingy.'

'She loves her mum, you do everything for her and she knows it.' Tom smiled. 'So she never asks...' Alexianna shook her head. 'Surely she has noticed though.'

'I think she has, but she just says nothing. I really don't know what I'll say when she asks about him. How do you tell a little girl her father didn't want her? But I don't want to lie to her either.'

'I honestly don't know.' He took her hands in his, 'But you are so strong, no matter how you approach it, you will still be the sort of mum she needs.'

'Of course, she is my world.' She bit her lip for a moment. A habit that Tom was starting to realise she had. 'When I realised I was pregnant, I cried. I felt so guilty, I didn't want a baby, I felt as though...'

'He could control you more?' Tom assumed, Alexianna nodded.

'He was happy, so much so it weirded me out. He was rarely happy with anything. I thought maybe this was a new him, that he was going to be nice again. When they said it was a boy, he became even nicer, buying all sorts of toys and clothing, soccer jerseys and everything. I was excited to meet "George" in the end, but when George was actually Lily, I realised he was far worse than I ever imagined. He changed the locks and said my stuff was at a Travelodge. He kept everything he got for the baby. I have no idea what he even did with it, but I don't care. Daniel came, helped me out, spent a fortune on Lily and has spoiled her rotten since. I think that's probably why she never asked; she hears what a dad does and thinks Daniel is enough in that role.'

'It is highly possible. I adore spoiling Sophie, if Yakov ever abandoned her and Sarah, I would be there in a heartbeat for them.'

'Yakov?'

'Sarah's husband.'

'Ah.'

'Yes, I just...I cannot believe that your husband...'

'Ex-husband.'

'Yes, that he would do that. I see Yakov with Sophie, my friends with their daughters, I just cannot understand how the hell the gender matters.'

'If you ever figure it out, please, let me know, because I can't understand it either.' Alexianna shrugged. 'It doesn't matter, because even though I didn't realise it at the time, Lily saved me.' he frowned. 'I wasn't strong enough to leave, she got him to and in doing so, stopped me from doing something terrible. She stopped me from staying. You said how lilies are associated with death, to me, it's the exact opposite.'

'She is incredibly lucky to have a mum like you.' Tom smiled. 'And Marie...'

'She sided with him, of course. It was my fault, it's not that hard to just have a boy.' Tom's brows rose. 'Yeah, as though we get a choice.'

'Boys aren't worth the trouble.' he shook his head. 'Look at me.'

'You had your rough patches, but I doubt your mother would ever say you turned out badly.'

'Not to my face maybe, I gave her enough heartache, I still do from time to time.' Tom sighed. 'We all make mistakes.'

'Who are you telling?' Alexianna laughed.

'I hope you that you feel after a while that I can meet Lily, properly I mean. I know that sometimes it is best to feel things out before doing anything like that.' he tried to not feel like he was pressurizing her.

'I hope so too. I think she would like you.'

'I love her assessment of Hook by the way, about him pretending to be nice makes him all the meaner, she is very astute.'

'You have no idea.' Alexianna laughed. 'If I'm honest, I am half worried about getting her ready to meet you, I am also worried about getting you ready to meet her. You cannot BS her or anything, she is just so smart, she notices tiny little things you never will and she will not forgive you if you lie to her.'

'That's fair enough. I want this to go well, I know she is your paramount concern, if she's not happy, this can't work.'

'So you still want this?'

'Yes, I do. Do you?'

Alexianna paused for a moment before nodding. 'Yes, I do.' her smile was faint but it was honest. 'I got a taxi yesterday.'

'You are so strong and amazing.' she blushed. 'How did it go?'

'I think I had two panic attacks, he must have realised I was insane because he said nothing to me.'

'Well good, not the panic attacks, but the fact you took it, it means you are getting more confident.'

'It's your doing. He wasn't as calm a driver as you are though.'

'I am something special.' Tom winked and laughed.

An hour later they rose from the table. 'I cannot believe we finally finished a cup of tea.' Alexianna joked.

'Yes, hopefully we can make an attempt at dinner soon.'

'You'll need to let me know, I need to arrange a childminder. Weekends are harder for me.'

'Okay, next Tuesday, seven o'clock?'

'Say eight, it would be easier if I put Lily to bed before leaving.'

'Of course, how silly of me. I'll collect you if you'd like?' Alexianna bit her lip. 'Stop that, it's not good for you.'

'You're worse than Dan.'

'Good, if we all keep badgering you, we'll get you out of it.' he smiled encouragingly before looking at his watch. 'It's my turn to dart now.'

'I'll see you on Tuesday so?' Alexianna smiled hopefully.

'If I don't meet you beforehand. But Tuesday is a definite. Let me know if you have babysitting issues.'

'I will.' she promised.

Leaning down, Tom kissed her chastely. 'Goodbye Lexi.' he whispered before turning and leaving.

#Life is a Game of Risks #chapter 10 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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veliseraptor · 6 years ago

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how should I begin, 1.3k, maeglin, direct sequel to this, cw for a whoooole bunch of suicidal ideation this boy’s a mess

The moment he was left alone, Maeglin stumbled to his feet, untethered the nearest horse, and set off back toward the smoke and flame still visible on the horizon.

He’d barely made it half a league, struggling to keep his seat between the nausea and the ache in his head, when Idril’s human caught up to him and swerved in front of him to cut him off, his expression taut and angry.

“Get out of my way,” Maeglin said coldly.

“Where are you going?” Maeglin just stared at Tuor, not answering, and his face hardened further. “No.”

“You had no right to take my choice from me,” Maeglin said harshly.

“And what of the choice you took from the rest of us?” Tuor asked. “When you told our Enemy where to find us, and forced us from our home?”

Maeglin flinched, though he tried to hide it. “Then you should understand why I must go–”

“And fall into his hands once again?” Tuor said, his voice biting. “Where you will give in, once again, and tell him where we have gone?”

The words lanced through him like his father’s javelin and he hovered for a moment between misery and rage before settling back into the dull numbness that had protected him these past weeks.

“No,” he said. “I will not. I will ensure I do not live that long.”

Tuor’s eyes flashed and his lips pressed together. His horse danced a few steps to the side, answering her rider’s tension. Maeglin pressed on.

“If this is some misguided effort for my cousin’s sake,” he said, “you needn’t tell her you caught up with me.” He met Tuor’s eyes squarely. “Walk away.”

Tuor’s jaw set. “No,” he said again.

His temper flared. “Why not?” He demanded, voice rising. “We both know you bear me no love. I am a traitor. I placed you, your family, your son at risk. I wrought - that.” He gestured to the horizon, dull red and black. “Why this sudden determination–”

“It is too easy,” Tuor said. “You need to make reparations.”

A snarl burst out of Maeglin’s throat and he urged his horse forward, nearer Tuor’s. “There are no reparations,” he said. “And if you think it will be easy–”

His throat closed and he brushed memory away. He didn’t know if he would be dragged back to Angband or killed out of hand, but either way he did not expect it would be clean. He had spent a night and a day listening to the screams of his companions before they died. Maeglin’s captors watching him, waiting for him to flinch.

“Go back to your wife,” he said. “No one will thank you for intervening here. I certainly will not.”

Some of the anger left Tuor’s expression, and without it he just looked sad, and weary. Maeglin turned away, steering his horse with his legs to go around him.

“Wait,” Tuor said. Maeglin did not look back, and did not reply, nudging the horse into a trot though the gait jarred his aching head.

“Hasn’t Idril lost enough of her family?” Tuor called after him. That burned, in a way Maeglin was certain Tuor could not know. He bit his lip hard enough that it almost split between his teeth. “You are the last remaining link High King Turgon has to his sister. Your mother.” Breathing hurt. “And what of her? Would she want you to throw your life away, when she sacrificed hers for you?”

That brought him up, and Maeglin turned his horse sharply around. “Do not invoke my mother to me,” he said. His eyes stung and there was a lump in his throat. He was tired, so tired, and he just wanted to slip from this horse and lie on the ground until his fëa fled and his flesh disintegrated into nothing.

“I will invoke whatever it takes to convince you to come back.”

“You cannot!” His eyes prickled and Maeglin hated himself for wanting to weep. He was heartsick and tired and weary of living, and yet a part of him still feared the dying (coward). He could feel Tuor looking at him and clenched his jaw until he could control himself.

“Return with me,” Tuor said at length, his voice quieter. “Take one week. Help your people. At the end of that time if you have not reconsidered, I will not stop you.”

He looked again toward the red and black sky. It would be more noticeable for him to vanish in a week than now. There would be more eyes on him, and less chance to slip away. His chest tightened.

A twitch, a thought, and his horse lunged forward. Tuor must have expected it, though, because the moment he moved something hard struck him in the head. He didn’t feel himself hit the ground, but there he was, horse a few paces away and blinking dazedly at the sky.

Tuor crouched down next to him with a sigh. “I was truly hoping you would listen to reason,” he said. Maeglin glared at him, wordless, and Tuor shook his head, expression a mixture of exasperation and ruefulness.

He lashed Maeglin’s wrists together and dragged him back. The only mercy was that he removed the restraints before they were seen by anyone else, though his hand on Maeglin’s arm was unmistakably a restraint in itself.

He could have broken free. For some unknown reason, he didn’t. Perhaps because the anger was gone, leaving behind only a dull, wretched exhaustion and a throbbing, spinning head. Idril was sitting in his tent when they entered, though he could not read the look on her face. Even here, she seemed to shine, and his heart ached with the same painful, irrepressible longing.

“You found him,” she said, not to him but to Tuor.

“I did,” Tuor said. “Making for Gondolin.”

“I can speak for myself,” Maeglin said, though he did not much want to. She turned her grey eyes on him, then.

“And what would you say?” She asked, and Maeglin marshaled all his arguments, the ones he’d given Tuor, but under her gaze they fell away. Hasn’t Idril lost enough of her family?

In the end, he said it as simply as he could. “This mercy is one I cannot bear.”

She stood, and stepped toward him, and he had to fight not to flinch back. “If that is so,” she said, “is that not reason you should bear it?”

The knife in his heart twisted and something in him crumpled. His eyes fell to the ground.

When she put it like that...she wasn’t wrong. Perhaps staying, a fading shadow, was the best punishment there could be.

His shoulders fell. “Very well,” Maeglin said at length, his voice heavy. “You have made your point.” He moved around her and sat himself, and did not dare look at either of them. She left without speaking further, and her husband followed a moment after, leaving him alone.

Would she want you to throw your life away, when she sacrificed hers for you?

His mother, who had loved him, cherished him, brought him up on stories of a world larger than the shadows of Nan Elmoth. Who would, unquestionably, look at what he’d become and spit in his face. Ill-gotten son. His grandfather had ridden to challenge Morgoth at his gates, and wounded him.

Meanwhile, he had betrayed his own people at first opportunity.

Black despair rolled over him and Maeglin buried his face in his hands and wept, for the first time since he had stumbled out of Angband, and did not stop until he was empty: of tears, of misery, of everything.

That, he thought, was how he would survive this. Numbness, and nothingness. And perhaps when they reached their destination by the sea...it would have been enough. He was Doomed as it was, after all, doubly-cursed: his cousin and her mortal were only delaying the inevitable.

The thought soothed him.

Maeglin stood up, composed himself, and went to see what needed to be done.

#maeglin #silmarillion #my trash son #a wild fic appeared #noldor are the best dor

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daily-klingon · 7 years ago

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Lesson 35: Verb Suffixes

Here are all the Klingon verb suffixes you will encounter, all types, from Type 1 through Type 9 and the Rovers.

Taken from here.

1.Oneself/One Another

These two verb sufixes describe an action which is done to oneelf, or actions which multiple subjects to to one another.

[TKD 4.2.1]

-’egh oneself Indicates that the action affects the subject; requires a prefix indicating that there is no object (jI-, bI-, ma-, Su- and the null prefix). Can be used together with -moH to form a command of a stative verb, e.g. yItuj’eghmoH Heat yourself! [KGT p. 117]

-chuq one another, each other Requires a prefix indicating plural subject and no object. (ma-, Su- and the null prefix)

2.Volition/Predisposition

Verb suffixes which describe willingness, unwillingness, readiness or trepidation (fear) - and a verb suffix which describes an action which must be taken.

[TKD 4.2.2]

-nIS need (Example: Dochvam DaSopnIS You need to eat this)

-qang willing (Example: Dochvam Sopqang She is willing to eat this)

-rup ready, prepared (referring to beings) (Example: Dochvam wISoprup We are ready to eat this)

-beH ready, set up (referring to devices) (Example: Dochvam Qolrup It is ready to beam this away (Qol beam away (v)) (Example: Dochvam SopvIp He is afraid to eat this)

-vIp afraid It is a cultural taboo to use the suffix -vIp with I or we as subject.

3.Change

These two suffixes indicate that something has changed state, or it has changed state and then resumed the original state.

[TKD 4.2.3]

-choH change in state, change in direction E.g. chomuSchoH I am beginning to hate you (but I did not hate you before). The sentence pa’ ghoSchoH He/she is starting to go there implies that either the person was not going anywhere before, or that he/she changed direction.

-qa’ resume, do again Indicates that the action stopped, then began again, e.g. wInejqa’ We are resuming searching for it or We search for it again.

4.Cause

There is only one verb suffix of this type, and it describes a verb which is happening because it has been caused to happen.

[TKD 4.2.4]

-moH cause The subject causes a change in condition or creates a new one, e.g. qul vIchenmoH I light a fire (lit. I cause a fire to take form). Makes intransitive verbs transitive, e.g. yIqIjmoH Blacken it! (lit. Cause it to be black!). Required when making an imperative out of a stative verb (see also -’egh above).

5.Indefinite Subject/Ability

Two completely different verb suffixes. One describes the ability to do the verb: the other describes the verb as having an indefinite subject.

[TKD 4.2.5]

-lu’ indefinite subject Indicates that the subject is unknown, indefinite, and/or general, the verb can not have a subject, and the prefixes are used in a different way (vI-, Da-, null, wI- or bo- are used to descrive something is done to me/you/him/her/it/us/them). Sentences using -lu’ are often translated into English passive voice, e.g. Daqawlu’ You are remembered. tu’lu’ is often translated as There is.

-laH can, able E.g. jIQonglaH I can sleep; tlhIngan Hol vIjatlhlaH I am able to speak Klingon.

6.Qualification

This set of suffixes qualifies a verb as being apparently happening, definitely happening, obviously happening (with some doubt) or happening perfectly.

[TKD 4.2.6]

-chu’ clearly, perfectly Indicates that an action is performed absolutely properly. [PK]

-bej certainly, undoubtedly

-ba’ obviously [TKDa] Indicates that the speaker thinks what he/she says should be obvious to the listener, e.g. QIpba’ He/she is obviously stupid. There is still room for doubt though, the suffix does not imply as strong a conviction as -bej.

-law’ seemingly, apparently Expresses that the speaker is uncertain, and may even be thought of as meaning I think or I suspect, e.g. DuSeHlaw’ He/she seems to be controlling you or I think he/she is controlling you.

7.Aspect

The closest thing to describing verb tenses in Klingon, these suffixes describe actions which had happened (but which are not happening now), continuous actions, actions which have been deliberately done, and activities which are heading towards a definite end.

[TKD 4.2.7]

-pu’ perfective Indicates that the action is completed.

-ta’ accomplished, done Indicates that the action was deliberately undertaken and completed.

-taH continuous Indicates that the action is ongoing.

-lI’ in progress Indicates that the action is ongoing and proceeding toward a known goal.

8.Honorific

Only one Type 8 suffix exists. It is an honorific, used for talking to a superior. It is rarely used.

[TKD 4.2.8]

-neS honorific Indicates extreme politeness or deference. Used only when addressing a superior, e.g. HIja’neS Do me the honor of telling me. It is never required.

9.Syntactic Markers

The last set of fixed suffixes, this is the catch-all category for a random selection of suffixes which cannot go anywhere else.

[TKD 4.2.9]

Subordinate-Clause Markers

A subordinate clause can occur either before or after the rest of the sentence, e.g. cha yIbaH qara’DI’ or qara’DI’ cha yIbaH Fire the torpedoes at my command!

-DI’ when, as soon as

-chugh if

-pa’ before

-vIS while

The suffix -vIS is always used along with the type 7 suffix -taH, e.g. bIQongtaHvIS while you are sleeping.

-mo’ due to, because of [TKDa] Note that there is also a noun suffix -mo’ with the same meaning. [TKD 6.2.2]

Relative-Clause Marker

-bogh which

A relative clause takes the place of a noun in a sentence. It has a head noun to which its verb refers, e.g. qIpbogh yaS the officer who hit him/her or yaS qIpbogh the officer whom he/she hit. If there is more than one noun in the clause, the head noun is indicated with the suffix -’e’ topic, e.g. loDHom qIpbogh mang’e’ the soldier who hit the boy.[TKD 6.2.3; TKW pp. 142, 189]

Purpose-Clause Marker

-meH for, for the purpose of, in order to

The purpose clause always precedes the noun or verb whose purpose it is describing, e.g. ja’chuqmeH rojHom a truce in order to confer; jagh luHoHmeH lunejtaH They are searching for the enemy in order to kill him/her. [TKD 6.2.4]

Main-Clause Modifiers

-’a’ interrogative

Indicates that a sentence is a yes/no question, e.g. bIjang’a’ Will you answer?

-jaj may, let [TKDa]

Expresses a desire or wish on the part of the speaker that something take place in the future. If used in a toast (but not otherwise) the sentence word order becomes object–subject–verb. E.g. wo’ ghawran DevtaHjaj May Gowron continue to lead the Empire, if the same thing were to be expressed as a wish or aspiration on the speaker's part, and not a toast, it would be said wo’ DevtaHjaj ghawran instead. Note: Klingons seem to be a bit touchy on the subject of toasts, and so it is important to use only the handful of accepted toasts. [PK; KGT pp. 25–26]

Nominalizers (Turns Verb into Noun) -wI’ one who does/is, thing which does/is

In reference to inanimate objects it means thing which does/is or thing which is used for,when referring to beings it means one who does/is. E.g. joqwI’ flag; nanwI’ chisel; baHwI’ gunner; pujwI’ weakling. Also used to say things like DoqwI’ the red one. [TKD 3.2.2]

-ghach nominalizer [TKDa] Turns a verb (which must have at least one other suffix attached) into a noun. The use of this suffix often makes for bad Klingon, and it is strongly suggested that you refrain from using any word with -ghach, unless it is found in the dictionary. E.g. naDHa’ghach discommendation; naDqa’ghach re-commendation.

R.Rovers

These markers can be found in various irregular places in the suffix order. Every marker has different placement rules.

[TKD 4.3]

-be’ not

This suffix follows the element (verb or verb suffix) which it negates, e.g. choHoHvIpbe’You are not afraid to kill me, choHoHbe’vIpYou are afraid to not kill me. It cannot be used in imperatives (where -Qo’ is used instead), but it can be applied to verbs used adjectivally, e.g. yIHmey lI’be’ useless tribbles [TKDa 4.2.9; CK]

-Qo’ don't!, won't!

This suffix always occurs last, unless followed by a type 9 suffix. It is used in imperatives and to denote refusal.

-Ha’ undo

Always occurs immediately after the verb, before any other suffixes. It indicates that something that was previously done is now undone, or that something is done wrongly, e.g. nobHa’ give back; yajHa’ misunderstand.Can also be applied to verbs used adjectivally, e.g. ’eyHa’ undelicious; yepHa’ careless.[KGT pp. 30, 84, 150]

-qu’ emphatic

This suffix follows the element (verb or verb suffix) which it emphasizes, e.g. nImuSlaw’qu’ They SEEM to hate you, nImuSqu’law’They seem to HATE you. Can also be applied to verbs used adjectivally, e.g. veng tInqu’ very big city.

#The Daily Klingon #Star Trek: Discovery #tlhIngan Hol

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fear-god-shun-evil · 7 years ago

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By Fang Yu, China

“When I passed by our manager’s office in the morning, I unconsciously heard Yi Fan speaking ill of you in front of our manager. In my opinion, she is jealous of your work capabilities which are stronger than hers, and she is afraid that you will get the chance to be promoted. …” Before Wang Qian could even finish speaking Lin Nan was filled with anger and felt that she was pushed to her limit. At the thought of Yi Fan backstabbing her many times in order to get the chance of promotion, Lin Nan hurled her pen on the office desk, and then got up and walked toward Yi Fan’s office with indignation. Lin Nan revealed all despicable things that Yi Fan had done to her in front of many colleagues. After a fight for safeguarding justice, Lin Nan returned in triumph. She went back to her office and sat on the chair quietly. Thinking back on all these years when she worked with Yi Fan, Lin Nan didn’t remember exactly how many times she argued with Yi Fan. She could not bear that Yi Fan created something out of nothing, and they almost became bitter enemies. Although she vented her anger this time, Lin Nan felt deeply troubled in her heart. She quickly realized that this was the reproach of the Lord to her, and her regret arose spontaneously.

After she returned home from her company, Lin Nan knelt down in front of her bed and prayed to the Lord: “Oh Lord! I committed sins again. For the sake of my own reputation and status, I quarreled with my colleague and openly accused her, and I even treated her as my enemy. I have no tolerance and patience, much less love others as I love myself. Lord, I beg You to forgive me. …” After praying, Lin Nan feebly sat at her computer desk. She thought that the Lord Jesus taught them that they should love others as they loved themselves and be tolerant and patient toward them, and that their forgiveness toward others should be seventy times seven. However, every time her personal interests were affected, Lin Nan could not practice the Lord’s teaching all along. Because of this she felt very distressed. Lin Nan knew that what she lived out could not be accepted by the Lord, but she involuntarily committed sins time after time. Lin Nan didn’t know whether she could receive the forgiveness of the Lord if she still lived in sin. Therefore, she switched on her computer and visited a familiar gospel forum, sending a message addressing her apprehension.

Before long she received replies to her post.

Happiness Is Enough:

The Bible says: “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). Repeatedly as we commit the same sins, the Lord doesn’t condemn us and has forgiven us. Moderator, you need not fret over this issue. As long as we confess and repent to the Lord, it’s enough for us.

Flying Freely:

“Happiness Is Enough” is right, and I give you a thumbs up. The Lord Jesus has pardoned all our sins. Moderator, how can you worry about this?

Seeing these words, Lin Nan seemed to take some temporary consolation in her heart. She thought: If I truly can be forgiven by the Lord, that would be great. Unexpectedly, others replied to the post at once and expressed a different opinion.

Yearning for Light:

I experienced what the moderator has experienced. It seems that this question should be discussed in detail. I don’t quite agree with the two comments above. Just as it is said in the Bible: “But if, while we seek to be justified by Christ, we ourselves also are found sinners, is therefore Christ the minister of sin? God forbid” (Galatians 2:17). “For if we sin willfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remains no more sacrifice for sins” (Hebrews 10:26). According to these lines of scripture, we can understand if we don’t follow them after we clearly know the Lord’s teaching but commit sins repeatedly, there will be no more sin offering. We live a cyclical life of constantly committing sins and then pleading guilty to them every day. This isn’t true confession and repentance.

Chinese Parasol Tree:

I’m in favor of the opinion of “Yearning for Light.” We only confess our sins but don’t repent, and we always commit the same sins. We are tired of ourselves, so how can the Lord approve of us? How can He forgive us? It’s just like parents treating their children. If a child makes mistakes once or twice, parents can show understanding and tolerance, and patiently teach their child. However, if a child always acknowledges his mistakes but never puts them to rights, and he always repeats the same old mistakes, can parents love a child like this?

Being Human Honestly:

You are right. We repeatedly commit the same sins, and it is considered as having been done knowingly. Even if we come before the Lord and admit to our sins, we are deceiving Him. How could He be pleased? No wonder I don’t feel the Lord’s presence, that’s what happened!

Seeing these three posts, although Lin Nan acknowledged that their words were a fact, her heart unavoidably felt a bit heavy. She thought: Doesn’t the Lord really forgive me? How should we understand this question in conformity with the Lord’s will on earth? Lin Nan sent another post: “All your fellowships have some reason; however, I am still rather unclear about this question. Please speak out freely, and fellowship how we should understand this question to be in line with the Lord’s will. Thanks.”

Replies came one after another, and the argument became more and more violent.

Happiness Is Enough:

It isn’t difficult to understand this question. We repeatedly commit sins, and it can be said that we knowingly transgress, but Romans tells us: “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:23-24). Worldly people are all sinners. However, because of the redemption from the Lord Jesus Christ, as long as we believe in the Lord Jesus, we can be called righteous by faith. This is grace that the Lord gives to us. If He hasn’t pardoned our sins, can we be called righteous? Therefore, no matter how repeatedly we commit sins or how occasionally we commit a sin, the Lord has forgiven us. This is without a doubt!

Flying Freely:

Correct, the Bible also says: “Whom God has set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God; To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness: that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believes in Jesus” (Romans 3:25-26). The Bible says very clearly. The precious blood of the Lord Jesus has cleansed our sins and He has tolerated us. So, we no longer belong to sin.

The Person of the Mountain:

Your words speak to my heart, and I give you a thumbs up. I feel the reason why we are afraid of our not being forgiven by the Lord due to our frequent sinning is that our faith in Him is too small. The Lord Jesus said: “He that believes on him is not condemned” (John 3:18). The Lord is a merciful and loving Lord. The Lord will not condemn us as long as we believe in Him. All our sins will be absolved. We ought to believe in His words and have faith in Him.

Yearning for Light:

The Lord Jesus has pardoned our sins by being crucified. This is a truth. But, this doesn’t mean that He will forgive us all along. The Lord Jesus said: “Truly, truly, I say to you, Whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. And the servant stays not in the house for ever: but the Son stays ever” (John 8:34-35). We commit sins constantly, without true repentance. We still are the servants of sin and cannot live in God’s house forever. Which is to say, we aren’t able to enter the heavenly kingdom.

Chinese Parasol Tree:

It’s true. I’m reminded of one word in the Bible, “For the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23). The consequence of sinning has been stated very clearly. However, we sin frequently and still think that the Lord will forgive us all the time. Isn’t this indulging in fantasy?

Being Human Honestly:

Right. How does the Lord view people who sin repeatedly? I remember what the Lord Jesus once said to a woman who committed adultery: “Neither do I condemn you: go, and sin no more” (John 8:11). From the words that the Lord taught the woman, we can see although the Lord is merciful and loving, and can forgive all our sins, this doesn’t represent sinners can receive the Lord’s praise. Otherwise, the Lord Jesus would not teach the woman “sin no more.” Some people assert that the Lord will most certainly absolve our sins all the time in accordance with the words of men within the Bible, but don’t seek what the Lord’s requirements are. Is it in line with the Lord’s intention? As a result, right now the most real thing for us is to seek how to resolve the problem of sinning.

The discussion became even more intense and the difference between the two opinions as they became more and more distinct. Lin Nan felt the viewpoint of “Happiness Is Enough” conforms to man’s idea, but another viewpoint comparatively matches the words of the Lord and conforms to the Lord’s will. For a moment, Lin Nan was at a loss and she worried: If the problem of sinning cannot be resolved, how can we be raised into the kingdom of heaven when the Lord returns? At this moment, a new post came into sight.

Understanding Rain:

Hello everyone! I am just passing by. Seeing your heated argument, I also present my own viewpoint. It is certain that the Lord is merciful and compassionate and we are pardoned of our sins through our faith in Him. But, God is righteous and holy, and hates sins and filth. If we commit sins frequently, I’m afraid that the Lord won’t bring sinners like us into His kingdom. “Because it is written, Be you holy; for I am holy” (1 Peter 1:16). “Not every one that said to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that does the will of my Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 7:21). Only those people who follow God’s words and act according to His words can enter the kingdom of heaven. We cannot follow God’s words and keep the Lord’s teaching, but still sin after we understand what sin is. By the time the Lord returns, how could we be qualified to enter God’s kingdom? Based on our imagination and conception, regardless of how we sin, the Lord will always pardon all our sins. Then how should the Lord’s righteousness and holiness be reflected? Could it be that He could lead sinners into the kingdom of heaven? In retrospect, Adam and Eve sinned and betrayed God because they listened to Satan’s words instead of God’s words, so they were driven out of the Garden of Eden. Today, we are still living in circumstances where we will commit sins and then admit to them and we aren’t purified. How could we be raptured into the kingdom of heaven? Isn’t this too unrealistic?

Being Human Honestly:

“Understanding Rain” is correct. This reminds me of the story of Sodom and Nineveh. Both the people of them committed sins. The people of Nineveh who truly repented received God’s forgiveness. On the contrary, the people of Sodom didn’t repent but still sinned after they understood what sin was; they were evil and depraved and they were shouting and wanted to kill God’s emissaries. They publicly resisted God and offended God’s disposition, so that God used brimstone and fire to burn them down. From this, we see that God’s righteous disposition cannot be offended. God’s disposition is not only mercy and compassion, but also majesty and wrath. In this matter, we really can’t be stupid; otherwise, the results would have been too terrible to contemplate.

The Person of the Mountain:

Mm. What you say also makes sense.

Happiness Is Enough:

Everyone has his own opinion. I don’t change my opinion. Sorry, I have something else to do. I must leave first.

The words of “Understanding Rain” made Lin Nan lost in thought: Indeed. The Lord is holy. We commit sins repeatedly, so how can the Lord forgive us endlessly? How can the filthy people like us enter the kingdom of heaven? Thinking if she continued to sin like this she would be abandoned by the Lord, Lin Nan appeared a little anxious. She quickly typed on a keyboard and said, “Your fellowships are quite illuminating. Through your fellowships, I understand that if we constantly sin, we cannot obtain the Lord’s forgiveness and we won’t be qualified to enter the kingdom of God when the Lord comes again. However, now, how can we no longer sin? I hope those insightful brothers and sisters fellowship with us some more.”

Chinese Parasol Tree:

This question is a good one. If we cannot resolve the problem of sinning, we will only be abandoned by the Lord. Oh, whichever of brothers and sisters is clear about this question, please communicate with us.

Understanding Rain:

On this issue, I pored over some scriptures recently. I remember the Lord Jesus said, “And if any man hear my words, and believe not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejects me, and receives not my words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (John 12:47-48). The Bible also says, “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God” (1 Peter 4:17). Seeing these scriptures, I pondered: The work of the Lord Jesus was that of redemption for mankind. The Lord Jesus has redeemed us from a state of sin, but our sinful nature is still deeply rooted within us. According to these scriptures, will the Lord Jesus come again in the last days to do the work of judgment and cleansing people? This question is worthy of our consideration.

Yearning for Light:

The words of “Understanding Rain” make me think of what the Lord said: “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will show you things to come” (John 16:12-13). Here it says that the Spirit of truth will come and guide us into all truth. Doesn’t this mean that when He arrives, the Lord will use His word to do the work of judgment to free man from sins?

Chinese Parasol Tree:

And, in the Book of Revelation, the Lord Jesus foretold that He would appear in the last days. He said, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20) “He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches” (see Revelation 2-3). From the Lord’s words, we can see that when the Lord returns, He will certainly speak and utter His words. Those people who hear God’s voice and accept His work are the ones who are brought before His throne to feast with the Lord.

Listening to these fellowships of brothers and sisters, Lin Nan suddenly saw the light. It was as if a ray of sunlight lighted up her heart. At that time, she realized that only if she gained what the Holy Spirit says to the churches could she have the hope of escaping the bondage and control of sin and achieving cleanness and God’s salvation. She had an urgent desire to search for the utterances of the Lord in the last days and to follow the footprints of the Lamb. Consequently, she was in a hurry to send another post …

#Sin #free of sin #Salvation #God #Gospel

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renegadesrpg · 5 years ago

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Dark Angels: Creation Part 4 Secret weapons

Sean: I’d gone to the kitchen and snagged longnecks for all of us and brought them back to the dining table in the great room. I wasn’t surprised Adrian had waylaid Sin. I’d felt his awareness fade out while we’d knelt. Sure sign of a vision and by the waves of anxiety that poured off of him when he’d resurfaced seconds later I knew it wasn’t good. Of course, taking a long draw off my bottle, they were always scrambled. Sometimes they turned out to be harbingers of good stuff, sometimes bad stuff, and sometimes it was just a neutral ‘danger-danger-Will-Robinson’ type of thing, but you could never be certain until whatever he’d seen actually happened. What concerned me more than the fogginess of them was WHEN he actually had them. But he’d never had one in a battle situation, as far as I knew, and the times he’d had them when he was transporting a soul had always been clear enough to help that situation so I kept my concerns to myself. Maybe whoever had seen fit to pass that gene down in the mix also fixed it so that adrenaline spikes suppressed them. Might be something to investigate if we ever got any down time, I thought as I took another drink. Which wasn’t likely any time soon.

As the three of us sat at the table I lean back and prop my boots on the table, watching my comrades-in-arms, my family. Zav’s brooding expression as he gazed down at his beer was pretty normal for him. Yet, I know he was evaluating our shot here, weighing the odds and I could feel that he was coming to some conclusions that didn’t make him happy. Bryn was staring at her bottle too, peeling the label off instead of drinking. Her focus on it was intent but I knew she wasn’t really seeing it. She was working on something in her head. Every so often she and Zav would shoot a look at each other, making the mental communication between them obvious even if I couldn’t hear them. Their shields were up, the conversation taking place focused on a very narrow bandwidth that blocked everyone else out. I wasn’t worried. I’d seen this before with them. They worked well together, hashing out a problem between the two of them before presenting a potential solution to. Usually a pretty good one. I’d let this play out until they were ready to talk.

The voices from the lanai drifted in and with it the emotions. The voices were soft, almost unintelligible with only a word or two clear. But the feelings? Yeah, got those loud and clear. Frustration and anger. That was Adrian. I recognized those easy enough. It was always what he felt after a really murky seeing. And then a settling of all that followed by a confident acceptance. Whatever he’d seen, Sin had helped him through it. Now Sin was harder to read. Low-key curiosity. Resolution. Serenity and…what was that? A tendril of anticipation winding through it, as though he’s looking forward to something. Now THAT worries me. I realize that after 35,000 years there had to be a certain ‘sameness’ to everything for him, but the kind of changes that could evoke this from him weren’t ones I wanted to look too closely at. He and I had speculated before about what happens to reaper souls after we die but neither of us knew for sure. Reapers don’t die of natural causes and we’re damned hard to kill. We can only die a few ways—by another reaper’s weapon, an angel’s blade, or an overload of power. The only time I’d felt this kind of anticipation from Sin was when we’d talked about that, about what comes next and I sure as hell didn’t like feeling it from him as we’re going into this.

My feet hit the floor as the voices stopped and Adrian walked through the door. All of us stood as Adrian took his place around the table and we waited for Sin. It was a mark of respect for him that we offered voluntarily. He’d never required it of us, but the fact we’d all been soldiers in our previous lives took over when he entered a room. He just naturally took charge. He’d fought his way to a kingdom as a human and the tools of leadership were innate in him. They’d carried over to this life just as the rest of our gifts had. Even if he’d only been a normal reaper like the rest of us, he’d still have been the one in charge.

Sin paused a moment in the doorway, sweeping his dark gaze over us before coming to stand at the head of the table. His dark eyes were somber but the sparkle in them belied it. He wants this fight. I think he’s wanted it a long time but he knew it would have ramifications for us if he lost so he’d waited until we felt it had to be done. Smart. Damned smart. I cleared my throat and spoke…

“My captain, how would you have us proceed?”

Sin: *Looking at my lieutenants, well pleased with their demeanors. The resolve is evident but there is no false bravado. They know we need all of our resources to win this.*

Please. Sit. I have some thoughts, but this is to be a roundtable discussion. Feel free to interject with ideas or concerns.

*As they take their seats I glide my fingers across my lips, ordering my thoughts*

The main objective is to take the Horseman of Death down. There are periphery issues to deal with that will be important but the first order is to decide how to facilitate his demise. I believe there is only one way to do this.

*turning, I lower my head and pace a few steps before raising it and turning back to the table.*

Getting close enough to kill him is not going to be possible initially. He is too wily. Initially he will try to attack using others. When he feels he has weakened me sufficiently he will seek to use his scythe, which will give him the advantage of reach over me. I am faster, my sword arm more nimble, but after a prolonged battle it could give him the advantage he seeks. Instead I propose we weaken him first by draining his power. We are equals, as it stands now. Reducing his strength will work to my advantage in the fight.

*the table erupts in conversation until Bryn stands and pounds on the table, putting all of her 120 pounds of muscle behind it. All eyes turn to her as her blue eyes spark fire. For a moment I wonder if this is the blue fire Adrian saw, but my attention is swiftly diverted. Raising an eyebrow…*

Yes Bryn?

Bryn: I’d been mulling this over for weeks and I still had come up with only one conclusion. “You’re not his equal. Not anymore.”

Sin: *Furrowing my brow as she speaks, I utter only*

Explain.

Bryn: “I’ve thought and thought about this, and not just today, asking myself what the Horseman was doing with the souls he was taking as payment, why was he doing it and what was the purpose of establishing a fifth column of reapers in our ranks and I’ve only come up with one explanation that makes any sense at all. He WANTS you to come for him. He’s preparing for it and he’s aware of us, of where we will stand in it all. That’s what the psycho reapers are for, to cut down the four of us and all who would be loyal to us once the fighting begins. And the souls?”

My face sets in grim lines.

“He’s consuming them. Each soul is a nuclear powerhouse that increases his own strength. He’s stronger than you now and he intends to kill you. But we already know that’s not his endgame. He just has to get rid of you to get to it. His endgame is to rule all the worlds. To be the ONE god over all of them, taking the place of the original Creator. If he kills you and manages to siphon your power, too? No one else will stand and every world, every plain will become immersed in a culture that worships Death. He knows you’ll eventually try to stop it so he’s laid the trap and is waiting for you to trip it. We can’t allow you can’t fall into it.

Sin: That’s quite a leap Bryn, do you not think?

*I mull this over, aware I have not been in direct contact with the Horseman in a very long time and cannot accurately gauge is mindset, but still loathe to think he would go this far.*

For eons he has accepted his place in the grand scheme and the power he wielded is unparalleled among the pantheons. After all, everything dies. This gives him a significant amount of respect already. I can agree he means to loose chaos on the worlds but to become the god over all gods is surely beyond him.

Bryn: I sigh and take my seat.

“It did until you rebelled. It weakened him in the eyes of the gods. You’re a thorn in his side, Sin, and he’s always been afraid of you. At least since you rebelled, because most of the gods prefer you to him and he has to be worried they would back you if you tried to overthrow him. It’s made him irrational. All wants now is revenge. On everyone.”

Sean: “She’s right Sin,�� I interrupt. “It all makes sense to me now. He sees you as the only thing that stands between him and the Creator. The gathering of power, the plotting with Lucifer…”

Then the realization hits me hard.

“Lucifer must be playing him as well, egging him on. WE thought the Horseman had approached Lucifer with this scheme, but I think it’s the other way around. So far the Morning Star is the only one who is in league with Death and Lucifer has always hated you. He blames you for his inability to regain his status in the White God’s realm. When you were human he managed to destroy all you’d built, all that you loved. He even drove you to look for death, but it didn’t get him back into the heaven he felt was rightfully his inheritance AND you beat him by accepting the Horseman’s deal. Lucifer is running a long con. He’s manipulated the Horseman into believing he’ll be in charge of all the worlds once you’re dead but he’ll kill the Horseman himself after the Creator is gone and then be able to lord it over his Father AND the other pantheons. Heaven won’t be enough. He’ll take Valhalla, Paradise, the Elysian fields, Tir Nan Og … all the afterworlds.”

Sin: *sitting down in my chair as their words sink in,*

I had thought to remove the Inguz rune and open the channel between us…

*catching their surprised look.*

It goes deep into blood and bone, into my very soul. The Horseman may not own it, but he could always use it to communicate, to allow me to draw more power if I needed it. To find me. Freya blocked that connection but it was beyond her power to remove it entirely. At least not without killing me.

*Musing aloud*

It is still the only path. If I can pull enough power through it quickly enough, perhaps I can even the odds again.

Zav: -speaking quietly-

It won’t work, Sin. He’ll overwhelm you and then we’re all fucked. You need more power. Power of a kind he doesn’t have access to.

-Looking squarely into his face, my dark eyes meeting his- You need my grace.

TBC

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alchemistc · 8 years ago

Text

my heart still beats, my skin still feels

an: siiiiighhh. This one’s for you, @nowforruin. (title yanked from ‘running with the wolves’ by aurora because i’m a predicable sob)

There is something curious about this Jon Snow. She’d thought as much the first time she laid eyes on him - smaller than she expected, lean where she had imagined girth, short where she expected a great hulking tree of a man, prettier than most the men she’s ever seen.

They called him King in the North, and Daenerys had expected broad shoulders and a mean face, a man who might tower over her in an attempt to frighten her, someone with hard eyes and a hard face.

Jon Snow has so far defied all her expectations.

He shouldn’t surprise her, considering the legions of men who follow Daenerys Stormborn wherever she takes them - across barren seas of sand, into battle against rich and powerful men, across an ocean most had always thought an insurmountable obstacle. She is a tiny thing, really, in the scope of the world, with delicate features and a face that, when she looks upon it, has not aged in accordance with her experiences. And yet, men follow her still, look upon her with both awe and terror - respect, even, and as she begins to know Jon Snow she begins to understand the perspective of all those who have bent their heads in deference to her.

It is an inconvenient revelation for her. She finds herself catching his gaze as it darts away from her; finds herself hiding a smile as he comes to stand beside her in his heavy furs and cloak seemingly unaware of the different climate or perhaps merely unwilling to look less a northerner; and sucking in a deep breath as his hand curls over her forearm and he dares to guide her along in the direction he’d like her to go. And when Tyrion’s brilliant mind fails her, when she has lost and she cannot see a way forward, it is Jon Snow’s council she seeks out, it is his soft and low voice; the humble shock in his eyes as she asks what he would have her do; the way he does not stumble over his harsh words; the way he questions her concern for the people even as he reminds her of her desire to do good, to be better, to change the way this world works.

They call him King in the North, and sometimes, Daenerys wonders if perhaps it is a lucky thing this man is a bastard who will likely give his life in this fight of his - surely if he were a trueborn son all of Westeros would be in his grasp by now.

------

He thinks of Stannis, the cool, harsh Stannis Baratheon, as he is escorted to his audience with the Dragon Queen - and as he looks upon her for the first time, he imagines Stannis sitting on this opulent throne, imagines the starkness of his face, and is immediately certain Stannis never sat where she now sits. It should be absurd, the picture of this young woman with her stern expression and steel back, silver hair gleaming against the stone behind her, but he stops short at the sight of it, of her, and even as her titles rattle off the walls around them he finds himself watching her.

It is no surprise he finds himself immediately at odds with her - he had expected as much when he agreed to this meeting - and yet he is disappointed too. Disappointed in himself for rising to her challenges, disappointed in her for refusing to listen to his words.

It makes no sense, at first, this rolling anger beneath his skin, the sharp ache of annoyance as they go toe to toe and she does not pay heed to his warning - she is a queen, just like any other, and he has never had much time for royalty, for the expectation of fealty, for monarchs so enamored with their own power they forget who they serve.

As he grows to know her better, pushed and shoved in that direction by his advisors and her own, he begins to understand why he’d taken so poorly to her reticence at first. He saw something of himself in her - this woman who triumphed over so much strife, who rose to conquer cities and earn the love of her people - he’d wanted her to believe him. He’d seen her dragons, her stature, seen the way that the Dothraki held themselves back at her silent command, heard the pride in the voices of those happy to serve her, and he’d hoped she might believe him.

The following days and weeks become difficult - he is a prisoner here, and despite the freedoms he is given he paces and he stares out into the vastness of the horizon and he wonders how he can convince the dragon queen of one more fantastical thing.

It feels a bit like fate to find the carvings amidst the dragonglass, and as he leads her through the tunnels, his sense of determination stems as much from his hope to find level footing with this woman as it is to show her further proof of his claims.

“I’ve seen you staring at her good heart,” Davos had said, as much a warning as a gentle ribbing, and at the time Jon’s response had felt like enough, but now he watches her as she takes in the stories of the Children of the Forest and he knows he is well and truly fucked. No time for that, he lies, even as he thinks of the jut of her chin and the fire in her eyes.

He’s known strong women before. Plenty of them, from the time he could remember knowing a difference between men and women. The hardness of Catelyn Stark had never stopped him from acknowledging the strength of her love for her children, from understanding how far she’d go for her family. Sansa, a girl who’d longed for pretty dresses and a handsome prince, had been through hell and back and come out the other side to fight the same fight her mother had - resilient and fierce, clever and brave. And Arya - he had to hope she was out there somewhere, too stubborn to die, too fearsome to let the world defeat her. Even Gilly had left an impression on him - she’d beaten the lot she’d been given in life, and fought to be more than she was. Brienne of Tarth, and the Wildling women he knew, even Cersei, much as he hated her - all these women had proven time and again they had the grit to defeat the roles they’d been gifted by unforgiving gods.

He tries not to think too hard on Ygritte, but her memory comes to him too, and he wonders what she’d say, how she’d laugh to know Jon Snow has found himself once again in the orbit of a woman with as much stubborn conviction as he. She’d hate him for it, he’s sure.

Daenerys is a woman apart from those he’s known before, and he cannot let himself wonder why. Even as he thinks on her, there are things more important that should occupy his mind, things he forces himself to remember - the terror of seeing the dead rise, the dread of knowing how few men there truly are to fight this war, the knowledge that he will most likely fail without the help of this woman. The North will fall, and the rest of Westeros after it, and the nothingness of death will fall upon them all.

There in that cave, guiding Daenerys by her arm, the firelight bouncing off stone walls, he thinks of Ygritte again, of her boldness and the way she’d shuddered and fallen apart in his arms. Of the way he’d felt alive, truly, blissfully alive and free, even though it was all a sham, a lie to secure the safety of the Wall.

He feels it again standing with Daenerys. Since he’d come back, he’d fought only out of duty, fought because it was the only thing he knew he could do well - but as she spits his own words back at him and holds his gaze, a fire blazes under his skin, and for a moment he forgets the lords of the North, he forgets the cold blackness beyond life, and he wants to live.

She begs his advice outside that cave and despite the antagonistic nature of their relationship he offers his frank opinion. It is not to stop her from destroying cities or burning the people of Westeros, it is not because they will need every able body to defeat the coming storm.

He tells her not to attack the people because he needs her to be better than that: a fair leader, a good woman. Because he trusts in the kindness of her heart.

No time for that, he tells himself, while her men assist in the mining of dragonglass and she rides off to battle. There’s no time for that, he repeats in the back of his mind as he stands atop the cliffs, watching a beast out of Nan’s horror stories soar above him.

No time for that, and his hand shakes as he pulls it free from it’s glove, and strokes his fingers over thick scales, his breath coming out in short puffs, overwhelmed by all of it, unsure what had overcome him, what desperate need had made him reach out to touch.

No time.

------

He is steady as he reaches toward Drogon, and through the shock of seeing anyone dare come so close to one of her children (Tyrion, Tyrion had done it, she remembered, but Tyrion was a brave drunken fool, Tyrion held her respect, her trust most days, and here was another brave fool). She finds herself drawn to the sight - her blood racing, heart hammering, she cranes to take in what is happening below her.

She has never felt the need to share this experience with another - never thought anyone would try, but as she dismounts and Drogon takes flight again, she looks upon Jon Snow and tries to hide the eagerness in her voice to hear his thoughts on the experience.

Her mind wanders then to other experiences shared between them, things that have set them apart from the rest of this world. Yet he plays down the words spoken in the heat of the moment, and she hides her disappointment, unwilling to truly examine why she yearns to uncover the mysteries of this northern bastard who holds the claim for a large part of her kingdom.

She could just as easily have him executed - burn him in dragon fire as she had those southron men who refused to bend the knee, order his head taken from his neck like his father’s had before him.

And yet.

He had come to her in peace, has shown her respect and even at times patience and understanding. He has been humble, though certainly not deferential, fiercely protective of his people - he wanted nothing more than the support of her armies and the protection of the people she meant to one day lead.

He had stood before Drogon, the fiercest of her children, and Drogon had seen no artifice in Jon Snow.

Shaken as she is by that realization, it rattles her calm, makes her stare at him longer and harder, makes her notice how much she’s grown to respect him, this man who refuses to bend the knee and desires her help all the same.

And then Jorah is returned to her, and in that blaze of happiness she forgets herself for a moment, lets emotion slip past her mask

His hands tremble when he reads the letter sent from Winterfell, and in that moment he is entirely too human for her: breakable, easily killed. She has to swallow so her voice does not waver as she reminds him of his place, but they both know she will do nothing to stop him.

The entire room knows it.

Daenerys has never felt more powerless, and she hates him for it, hates Jorah Mormont and Jon Snow, hates Tyrion Lannister and the Red Priestess for ever suggesting an alliance with the North could be beneficial.

She hates them all, for their bravery, for their council, for the weakness they all share in their desire to serve the realm - for earning her respect even when she meant not to give it.

And still, her crisp nod is enough to send them all down a path she is not certain they can return from.

------

It’s a fool plan, and he knows it long before it all goes wrong, but it’s all they’ve got, and even as he sends Gendry back towards Eastwatch he wonders if there hadn’t been a better plan. If he’d waited a bit longer, spent more time with Dany, might he have convinced her to bring a dragon to begin with?

That’s what he’s asking of her now, isn’t it? Time is not on their side, and no matter how much he might like her she’s no warrior. But she alone controls the greatest weapon in all their arsenals, and she alone might be able to get them out of this foolhardy mess.

He’d seen the way she looked at him, the way she’d held back as they said their goodbyes, and he’s no great judge of women’s desires, but something tells him she will come. For the realm. For Jorah Mormont.

If he adds his own name to the list, no one else has to know about it.

When she does come, in a fiery blaze of glory, he knows Tormund is right. For so long he’s known only terrible rulers, or dead ones, and here now in the desolate north, surrounded on all sides by creatures of death, Daenerys Targaryen has come - no doubt against the wishes of her advisors, no doubt against her own sense. She’s as recklessly foolish as he is, and as he watches her astride the great beast, burning the dead to ash, he feels a kinship stronger than any before it.

At least, as it all goes to shit, and he plunges into the ice, towards the same watery grave as one of her dragons, he can be certain she will continue this fight without him.

------

The loss of Viserion sits heavily upon her, and so she tries not to think of it.

It’s an easier task than she might have expected, the grief shoved aside in favor of her worry for the man she’s already risked far too much for. He is pale, his breathing not quite steady, his eyes closed in slumber as Ser Davos buries him in furs and orders men about. She’s seen the scars, knows without having to question it just what has happened to him - the pieces coming together as her mind races - Davos’ words about what he’s sacrificed for his people, the appearance of the Red Priestess and her conviction that Jon Snow was important in this war, the bordering on suicidal nature of the way he fights.

Jon Snow’s not in love with me, she’d told Tyrion, more to convince herself than anything else, but she’d seen the way he’d looked at her after Viserion fell, seen the set of his shoulders as he turned toward the Night King, heard the tremor in his voice as he called for her to leave.

When all is settled and the man shuffle past her out the door, when only Davos remains, staring down at the king he’s chosen, eyeing the rise of fall of his chest beneath the furs, she takes another step into the room. Ser Davos seems only then to realize she is there, and he startles.

“Your Grace,” he says, and she fights the quirk of her lip at the tone of it, a gentle chiding in his voice even as he dips his head towards her. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but he needs rest.”

Daenerys swallows, nods, and takes another step into the room. “I won’t wake him, Ser Davos.”

The man opens his mouth, shakes his head and closes it. When she glances up at him, his expression nearly gets a laugh out of her, and she can imagine inside his head are nothing but thoughts of the stubbornness of those he has surrounded himself with. If he knew her better, she has no doubt he’d make those thoughts known, but he slides around her instead, and she listens to the heavy footfalls as he moves down the hall.

In the quiet, Jon’s breathing sounds ragged and shaky, and she takes three steps closer to the edge of the bed before she’s even realized it.

There is something about Jon that makes her forget herself, and even if it’s only for a moment, it is something she has not experienced in a long time. Through everything that has happened in the last few years, she has held herself stern and unyielding, concealing every thought that crosses her mind and every emotion felt - the sadness, the anger, the heartache - until she worried she’d lost the ability to feel those things entirely.

Now, she looks at this man, this man who has died and come back to fight for his people, this man who has spent months now listening to her demand his fealty in return for her help and still found the nerve to ask her to come for his party beyond the wall.

He’s a fool. A brave, honorable fool, and her heart aches to think she nearly lost him too.

When he wakes, she is by his side, alternating her gaze between the pinch of his brow, his face solemn even in sleep, and the curl of his hand by the edge of the bed; so close she could reach out and grasp it.

And then he speaks, the first words out of his mouth not a thank you, or anything pertaining to the Night King or his own near miss with death.

No, it is an apology. An apology for the mission they undertook, and the loss it caused, and even as her eyes well with tears he reaches for her hand, earnest and true, likely to the very bitter end.

She wants so very desperately in that moment to allow herself this comfort, to curl her fingers into his palm and stay there with him, to cry the tears she has yet to shed, to let him see her, beneath the masks and the steel and the fire of her eyes.

But she cannot. She has suffered a loss not only for herself, but for her people as well, in this battle she had not truly believed in until the moment Viserion fell. If she allows herself the comfort of the promise in his eyes when he looks upon her, she will not be strong enough to face the coming storm.

When she pulls her hand away and tucks it into her lap she grasps it beneath the one he’d held. It is a poor substitute.

------

“Do you understand?”

He doesn’t know why it sticks out to him, why, as he thinks on her (and gods does he spend far too much time stuck in this fucking bed thinking on her) the admission is what he goes back to. Her promise to fight with him, the way she’d stared at their clasped hands, the very fact that she’d allowed herself to break down in front of him, even for a moment - all of that he spends less time contemplating than he does those words.

He’s spent enough time on them to know they didn’t come from a desire to make him feel guilty - she hadn’t said them in order to gain pity, and as he turns them over and over again, there’s truly only one reason that comes to mind.

Years ago, it might have been a blessing, hearing those words from a woman he thought of the way he thought of Daenerys. His greatest fear with Ygritte hadn’t been of breaking his vows but of putting a bastard in her, forcing another child to grow up in an already shit world with that word a burden on it’s shoulders.

He was a bastard boy, with no land to inherit, no room to become a great man like his father, and so he’d gone to the Night’s Watch, where at least he could be and honorable man. Benjen had told him he didn’t know what it meant, to give up the chance for a family, and he’d scoffed and thrown it aside, ready to devote himself to something that meant a damn thing.

Since Ygritte, he’d not thought on it, too busy to even contemplate such a thing. Until Daenerys. Until he looked at her and saw the fire in her eyes, the fierce loyalty she commanded, the desire she carried within her heart to truly help the people of this land. Until Jorah had told him to pass Longclaw down through the generations of his kin.

He’d thought on it then - a babe in his arms, a child to teach to fight, to love, to stand fierce and tall and brave against a world that would always try to drag them down. A girl or boy to hold close to his heart, who could carry on a legacy of their own making.

It doesn’t matter.

When she curls her fingers around his, and whispers the hope that he is right about her, when she holds his steady gaze and tells him to rest, already drawing back into herself, it doesn’t matter.

He will fight for her, with her, until his very last breath, and he will admire her in whatever way she will allow. He’ll stand by her side against the coming storm, and he will not let it matter. Her legacy will outlive her, children or no. He won’t allow any other possibility.

#jonerys ff #jonerys fic #I HATE THESE TWO SO MUCH DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME #i'm so mad

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notapropergeek · 8 years ago

Text

The Sound of Ice - Part 8

Lyanna in a bed full of blood.

A baby placed in Father’s arms.

Father making a promise.

Father bringing the baby to Winterfell.

Bannerman in the Great Hall yelling “King in the North”.

A large man surrounded by books looking both shocked and excited.

The same man with a woman and a baby riding North.

The Night King looking at him.

Bran pulls his hand away from the Heart Tree.

Soon he thinks.

He lays against the tree, helpless, defenseless, or so it would seem to most. A young man with no use of his legs, a cripple, would usually not last long in this world highborn or not, but he is no ordinary man. He is the Three Eyed Raven and he is still learning what that truly means.

He lifts himself from the tree and waves the guard away who started to come to assist him. He struggles across to where his chair waits, it is a sad sight, a man dragging himself across the snow, but he does not care, he needs the movement, the activity, his mind should not be the only part of his body always in motion. As he gets closer to the chair a pair of boots block his way.

“Move Arya.”

She bends down and looks at Bran. “We need to talk.” She then goes around him and begins to lift him.

“I don’t want help.”

“I understand that, but we need to talk. Also I hate to see you struggling” she says softly while helping Bran in his chair.

Bran looks at Arya and understands. “ We have all struggled.”

“You would know wouldn’t you.”

“Arya…”

“We need to talk about….”

“Ayra I am not having this discussion with you.”

“And what discussion is that? The one about The Night King and the upcoming battle, the one about Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons, because you were not all that surprised when she showed up.”

“Jon told us she was coming.”

“You know what I mean. Flying dragons at Winterfell and you didn’t raise an eyebrow.”

“Arya…”

“You saw them didn’t you? In one of your visions or something.”

“ You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t understand, not completely. All I know is that my little brother calls himself the Three Eyed Crow...”

“Raven.”

“The Three Eyed Raven and can see things and do things that seem to come from those stories Old Nan use to tell us.”

“ The stories are true Arya and I can’t tell you everything.”

“How about something? Jon and Sansa are...”

“Arya believe me when I say that things are in motion that cannot be stopped. I understand you want to protect our family, so do I. That is all any of us have wanted since we reunited, but trying to force things or change things before its time can lead to more harm than good. Actions create chaos. Everything is connected. Trust me when I say all things will be revealed in time.”

Arya looks at him not quite understanding. “When.”

“Soon.”

Arya looks into Bran’s eyes and realizes that there is no point in discussing this further. He won’t answer. Her questions will have to wait. Except one.

“The Night King?”

“Soon” he says in a tone that makes Arya shiver and she knows it is not because of the cold.

Sansa helps one of the little girls finish packing what little possessions she had for the trip South. She looks around surveying the progress. She sees their faces and notices they all have the same expression, one of fear. They all wonder if they will ever come back to the North, of they will survive the Winter? The same question she asks herselfs. She moves out of the hall and walks the castle grounds watching the men get prepared. As she climbs the second level she notices some of the Dothraki and Unsullied have stayed behind to assist with the fortification of not only the castle, but the surrounding areas. The Dragon Queen’s thoughtfulness no doubt. They are after all allies now.

Sansa thinks back to the war council meeting how all eyes were on the Dragon Queen. The stories she heard seem to be true, she is beautiful and from what Sansa can tell compassionate, wanting to do right by her subjects, but you can sense the dragon in her. A few of her suggestions while deadly to the wights also could lead to devastating consequences in the North. Luckily Tyrion seemed to give better alternative suggestions that the Queen along with the rest of the counsel seemed to agree upon. He does his job well as her Hand she thinks. Without Tyrion she suspects a portion of the Seven Kingdoms might be in nothing but ruins. She barely looked at Jon during the meeting. She was afraid to see what she would find if she looked at his face. She had to admit they did look beautiful together. Yet the few times she did look at him he was not just looking at the Dragon Queen, but also at the other counsels and the maps. He was being a King thinking strategies to help best protect the North from the upcoming battle and she was proud. Jon would do anything to protect his people.

However when Jon took her hand after Edd finished giving his report it was too much. She knew he was consoling her over the loss of her dragon she saw the sadness in the eyes of her advisors and understood the pain was real for the Dragon Queen, but it was to much for Sansa. She listened to the rest of the meeting while looking out the window watching one of Daenerys's dragons fly over head. She remembers the stories that Old Nan use to tell her about dragons and princes. Looking at the dragon up in the sky she wonders how much Old Nan really knew and if she was trying to warn us to what was coming. A cold wind blows through bringing Sansa back to the present.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

She turns to see him looking at her with concern. How long has he been standing there? “It is getting colder out here. You should be inside where it is warm.”

“So should you.”

“I was checking on the men and the battlements to make sure everything is secure.”

“So was I.” She turns back and looks at the Dothraki and the Unsullied once more. “I see our new allies are helping with fortification of the castle.”

Jon moves to stand next to her. While looking down to what she sees. “Daenery offered assistance and I thought it would be best to accept. The faster everything is completed the better, We don’t have a lot of time.”

Sansa nods. Daenerys she thinks. She pushes the pain down, ignoring the feeling in her heart. She looks at Jon about to give her leave and is surprised to see a look of sadness on his face.

Not realizing it she whispers “Jon.”

He turns to her, his eyes looking so sad. “ I never meant to hurt you.”

Her breath hitches and she begins to step away, but he softly grabs her elbow. “Please stay. Let me say this.”

Sansa puts her head down, closes her eyes and shakes her head. “There is nothing to say” she whispers. She again begins to step away, but the hand on her elbow tightens. Sansa looks at Jon about to remind him of his place and her mask falters. She has never seen him look so pained. At that moment all Sansa wants to do is hold him and tell him everything is going to be okay, but she knows she cannot, instead she takes a deep breath and nods.

Jon releases the breath he was holding and releases her elbow.

She waits.

“Kidney pies with peas and onions, lemon cakes, our late night discussions over ale. Our arguments. Our agreements. Watching you struggle with a piece of fabric while I struggled with a request from one of the bannerman. Those are a few of the things that I thought of when I was away from here, from you.”

Sansa’s struggles to keep her composure, but the look in his eyes and the softness of his voice is making it difficult for her. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “ You...”

“I bent the knee, I slept with the Dragon Queen.”

Sansa stiffens and steps away. “You don’t need to tell me..”

“I do!” He takes a deep breath and softly says “I do. I promised you that I would protect you and I have hurt you. I told you once that we have to trust each other and I have lost your trust.”

Jon says a silent prayer and continues.

“When I went to Dragonstone and meant Dany...Daenerys we felt..I felt a connection to her a familiarity in a sense. I saw how she ruled, how she does not want to rule Westeros how it was run in the past. I saw her compassion towards her people and wanting to do good for them. She understood my desire to protect the North from the White Walkers because she wants the same for the Seven Kingdoms. I also saw her make some difficult decisions and I understood them. It can be lonely being a leader” he says softly.

He notices that Sansa has taken a step back, but he knows he needs to continue. “I have also seen her anger. The fire and blood of a Targaryen is a dangerous thing especially when one has dragons. I have told you everything that has happened since I left Winterfell, about the wight hunt and the losses. That night was full of so many emotions, so much has happened that…” Sansa shakes her head and turns to leave, Jon grabs her elbow.

“You are hurting me” she cries.

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you anymore than I have I am telling you this because I need you to trust me again. I am telling you this because I need you to understand what I feel for you is not the same thing I feel for Daenerys.”

“I don’t need to know what you feel for the Dragon Queen!”

“Yes you do!”

He takes her face in his hands and softly says “Yes you do. I’m never been very good with words, especially now, but Sansa….”

Sansa stares directly into Jon’s eyes and sees it, not quite believing it. Without even thinking without even realizing, her hand comes up and her fingers lightly touch his lips. Jon closes his eyes savoring her touch. Her hand then moves from his lips to cup his cheek enjoying the feel of his beard under her skin, she then moves her hand to lay on his chest where her other hand was waiting right above his heart. Sansa closes her eyes still not quite believing as their foreheads touch, neither of them move until a gust of wind causes Sansa’s hood to fall. The cold wind hitting her causes Sansa to remember who is she is, where she is, what Jon has done and the reality of the situation.

Swallowing a sob, she pulls away, stepping out of his reach the loss of Jon’s warmth hitting her more than the cold. She uses the time while adjusting her hood to compose herself. Wiping away the unshed tears that were threatening to fall. “Jon....you telling me this does not change what has been done or our situation .”

“I know” he whispers.

Before anything else can be said another stronger even colder wind blows through the castle.

Sansa winces as the cold wind passes through her like daggers. Once again reminding her of the real threat coming. “Its getting worse.”

“He is getting closer.”

“How much time?”

Jon looks to the sky noticing the storm clouds approaching, “Soon.”

#jonsa fanfiction #jon x sansa fanfiction #jonsa

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libertariantaoist · 8 years ago

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“Heaven and Earth are heartless treating creatures like straw dogs sages are heartless too they treat people like straw dogs between Heaven and Earth how like a bellows empty but inexhaustible each stroke produces more talking only wastes it better to protect what’s inside”

-Lao-tzu- (Taoteching, verse 5, translation by Red Pine)

HU SHIH says, “Lao-tzu’s statement that Heaven and Earth are heartless undercuts the ancient belief that Heaven and Humankind were of the same lineage and thereby created the basis for natural philosophy” (Chung-kuo-che-hsueh-shih ta-kang. p. 56).

SU CH’E says, “Heaven and Earth aren’t partial. They don’t kill living things out of cruelty or give birth out of kindness. We do the same when we make straw dogs to use in sacrifices. We dress them up and put them on the altar, but not because we love them. And when the ceremony is over, we throw them into the street, but not because we hate them. This is how sages treat the people.”

HUAI-NAN-TZU says, “When we make straw dogs or clay dragons, we paint them yellow and blue, decorate them with brocade, and tie red ribbons around them. The shaman puts on his black robe, and the lord puts on his ceremonial hat to usher them in and to see them off. But once they’ve been used, they’re nothing but clay and straw.” A similar description appears in Chuangtzu: 14.4.

WU CH’ENG says, “Straw dogs were used in praying for rain, and these particular bellows were used in metallurgy.”

WANG P’ANG says, A bellows is empty so that it can respond. Something moves, and it responds. It responds but retains nothing. Like Heaven and Earth in regard to the ten thousand things or sages in regard to the people, it responds with what fits. It isn’t tied to the present or attached to the past.”

WANG AN-SHIH says, “The Tao has no substance or dimension, yet it works the breath of emptiness between Heaven and Earth and gives birth to the ten thousand things.”

WANG TAO says, “The Tao cannot be talked about, yet we dismiss it as heartless. It cannot be named, yet we liken it to a bellows. Those who understand get the meaning and forget the words. Those who don’t understand fail to see the truth and chatter away in vain.”

HSIN TU-TZU says, “When the main path has many side trails, sheep lose their way. When learning leads in many directions, students waste their lives in study” (Liehtzu: 8.25).

HO-SHANG KUNG says, “Whenever the mouth opens and the tongue moves, disaster is close behind. Better to guard your inner virtue, nurture your vital essence, protect your spirit, treasure your breath, and avoid talking too much.”

SUNG CH’ANG-HSING says, “If our mouth doesn’t talk too much, our spirit stays in our heart. If our ears don’t hear too much, our essence stays in our genitals. In the course of time, essence becomes breath, breath becomes spirit, and spirit returns to emptiness.”

And, RED PINE adds, “Cultivating the heartless center between Heaven and earth, sages delight in the endless creation of something out of nothing without becoming attached to anything. The Chinese phrase pu-jen (no heart) not only means ‘unkind’ but also refers to any fruit that has no seed or kernel in its center. The straw dogs used in ceremonies in ancient China were much like Christmas trees in the West – used for a day, a week, a month, but not for long.”

–

Today’s verse is a hard one. Why? Because, we all claim to like impartiality. It is held up as a virtue. But, do we really want to be judged impartially? That depends. When we are standing before a judge, we hope to be able to make our case, and the judge to look upon us favorably, even if the facts in the case stand against us. Often, what we really want is partiality. The impartial, the truly impartial, will be viewed as heartless. The impartial will be thought of as unkind, even cruel. But, what they really are is unmoved. You shouldn’t ascribe motive, here. Heaven and Earth simply don’t care.

The sage therefore, doesn’t care, either. Heartless! If it was seen as virtue, it would be said of them, “They treat everyone the same.” Complete impartiality. Unmoved. Uncaring. They won’t intervene. They won’t interfere. They won’t try to force things. They won’t try to control.

This, my friends, is the only equality we should be interested in. Equality under the Law of Nature. But, I don’t want to be treated like a straw dog! Or, like a Christmas tree (as Red Pine compares it to). I want to matter!

Well, of course you do. And, you do matter. Everything and everyone does have a purpose. And that matters. But, what no one and no thing can ever hope to claim is that they matter more.

So like a bellows is nature. Empty but inexhaustible. Each stroke produces more. But talking only wastes it. Better to protect what’s on the inside.

Fulfill your purpose. Do your work and then step back. Don’t whine! Nature responds, and the sage responds. Just not in the way we might like, showing partiality. No, nature and the sage both respond impartially, like a bellows, with only what fits. There is a purpose, it just seems to be purposeless. It seems to be purposeless because nature and the sage act purposelessly. Without struggling. Without effort.

Trying to act purposelessly isn’t the answer, obviously. That requires effort. But how to be, without trying?

I once had the honor of knowing a young man who epitomized this practice. It is not at all a wonder to me that Lao-tzu often refers to children, to show this practice of purposelessness. For this young man was just a boy. He was my son’s best friend at the time. And, I got to observe this boy quite closely. For a couple of years he spent a lot of time in my home.

What I observed was someone for whom everything seemed to just happen naturally. He exuded a natural confidence. He was athletic, and involved in a variety of sports related activities. But, I wouldn’t characterize his involvement as competing. He was just playing. And, he seemed to love it, without caring. When he was running, his speed was deceptive, for he ran effortlessly. He certainly didn’t seem to be trying. And someone, observing only casually, might have been tempted to urge him to try harder. I hope that never happened for him. It might have killed that spirit. Like, I am sure, that spirit has been killed in many children. For, without trying, he succeeded. Over and over again. And, I honestly don’t think he would have succeeded any better by “trying” harder.

Now, I wouldn’t characterize this boy’s life as easy. His parents were divorced, so he lived half the time with his mom and half the time with his dad. And, neither of his parents were well off. He didn’t have a lot of what the world considers blessings. He just seemed to live his life as unaffected, as unmoved, by any of that, as anyone I have ever known.

He moved away years ago. And, I don’t know what has become of him. I only know what he was in those few years I observed him.

–

Red Pine introduces the following sages with today’s verse:

HU SHIH (1891-1962). Student of John Dewey and leader of China’s New Culture Movement that helped establish vernacular Chinese as a legitimate form of literary expression. Chung-kuo che-hsueh-shih ta-kang.

HUAI-NAN-TZU (D. 122 B.C.). A.K.A. LIU AN. He was the grandson of Liu Pang, the first Han emperor. He was a devoted Taoist, although his search for the elixir of immortality was prematurely interrupted when he was accused of plotting to seize the throne and was forced to commit suicide. The book named after him is a collection of treatises on mostly Taoist themes written by a group of scholars at his court.

WANG TAO (1476-1532). Incorporates Confucian interpretations in his commentary. Lao-tzu-yi.

HSIN TU-TZU Interlocutor in Liehtzu: 8.25).

#philosophical taoism #libertarian

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twilightpony4 · 8 years ago

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HomeFront: 41. Search For the Promised Land

“I can't believe you took my horse!” Mona exclaimed heartily, trying to keep the stick of kâo ròu from falling into her mouth from which it hang from. It had been a while since they've all gotten back. Miwa had already prepared an easy dinner for the additional four, large teens she was to receive. The boys showed up first after Mona “insisted” she rode her horse back and not Leonardo. This, they've been properly entertained by the older man who used every insulting word to come by to show his disgust of them all showing up. No one really took it to heart and played it off as the old man who's just a little “coo coo in the head”. They gathered around the table, either standing or sitting (giving Miwa and the Ancient One first priority, of course) as they came together, loud in reverie. “What do you guys feed him? He's a bucket full of crazy!” Leo spoke, clearly remembering his experiences with the little cyclone she called a horse. “I prefer free spirited.” She defended with a smile, knowing to the fullest extent how Nan could be a handful. A gathered laugh from the table emerged. “You can fix him to calm him down, right?” The blue banded terrapin took a bite after asking. “He is.” The room quieted. “Yujin is the one not castrated.” A look of shock took over the leader’s face. Nan’s rambunctious cords; cut but don't stop. Then Yujin, intact and gentle. “Whoa.” Was the only response Leo could give them. His priceless expressions created another wave of laughter. “I can't believe you guys drove the plane over here.” Venus exclaimed, chewing as she spoke. The voice she created was too much for Donatello not to mimic back comedically. The turtle girl closed her mouth and smiled but not before giving him a playful shove. He did not retaliate for she was sitting in one of the chairs amongst the older people. She still hurt some and it was best for her to chill out and rest up. It's not everyday you get hit by a stinging, magical mass meant to kill you. “Wasn't easy either.” Vern chimed in on his behalf. His head rose from the two arms placed on the table so he may briefly rest his head there. “I had to dodge either mountain or tree, then avoid crop fields.” He gave himself a little ‘whoo’ for his efforts. With no quicker way to get over in time, they resorted to driving the plane over. Could you imagine? Just watching a plane drive slowly, not at all in the sky, around your village to some unknown destination? “That was an art in itself, especially since I did it with 0 sleep.” A hand of his pushed up against his right eye. Miwa, removed her tea cup from her lips and set it down with both hands. “You are all welcome here for as long as you like.” She offered. “Speak for yourself!” The Ancient One spoke out loud in utter disgust. The heads turned to the little old man who was stuffing his face as he continued talking. “Too many green monkey boys to feed! I needed more food than what we started with!” His sneer was followed by a scowl when he pulled up hit hat that he instead to wear even when he was at the dinner table. Based on the brushed off reactions the native family bore, the rest paid no mind to the grouchy, greedy old man. “Thank you, Miwa, but we promised our father we'd be home as soon as possible.” Explained Donatello. He gripped the top of Venus’ chair tight. “If you are regarding about tomorrow, surely you would like the morning in the village?” She suggested, voice growing higher in pitch along with her sentence. “From what I know, this is the rare chance to walk above ground and interact with people.” Finished with her own meal, the woman rose to collect her trash and offered any others. Raphael and Donatello were the firsts and thanked her when she turned away. “Don't tell me we’re not going to take advantage of that!” It didn't take long for Leo to get a heavy shoulder caused by the pulling hands of Mikey. The little child stuck out a lip and busted out the pleading eyes in order to break him down. There was no need for that as he dusted him off. “We are, we are.” He repeated, nodding his head as he grinned. Leo wouldn't mind another lap around the village before he left anyways. It'd be cool to show his brothers all the things he's seen and were he and Venus had gone. “You children did a wonderful job today.” Miwa complimented as she took away Michelangelo’s plate of oily kabobs. “Khan.” she muttered when she turned away. “Our great friend Khan associated with the likes of them!” she exclaimed in disbelief. She did not want to believe it, but Mona and Venus would not lie about such matters concerning their friends. To think that he had wanted to dictate over them made her uneasy and questioned his every motive and interactions with her and the village people. The latter of the table turned to her direction as she set the plates in the sink to be washed promptly; kabobs discarded in the trash can. “I simply cannot stand the Foot clan! Makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about them.” “Miwa, why do you hate the Foot so much?” She paused and spun around. It came from Leonardo, whose eyes were as seeking as his question. “I mean, I understand the general stance, but you show an utter disgust to them.” Miwa had to think back. It is true, her true colors concerning the Foot were always negative when the children would bring up their whereabouts since they had arrived. The hand-towel hung from a hook on the cabinet was snatched and used to clean off her gentle fingers. “May I tell you children a story?” She asked invitingly, looking into the towel as she asked. A couple glances, but there was no objection She took that as a yes.“My father, Hamato Yoshi, had a pet rat. Her name was Rōzusōn and he loved her like no other. One time, he had bred her, but when she bore, only one had survived. He called him Hehen for the young rat was “a thorn in his side” or, at least his teeth usually sunk into his fingers.” She giggled at the memory. That warm expression of her remembering her father brought a collective smile throughout the family’s faces. “Shortly after, Rōzusōn had fallen ill and passed away. Just as I, he was a ninjutsu master who used his dark arts for good as many urban ninjas now do. For years, he meddled with the Shredder’s plans while he reigned in Japan. One day, he confronted him. I was not there and neither was my mother. Till his death, my father fought to rid of his control on Japan, but had failed. Before Oroku Saki could leave, he spotted the young rat in his cage. He took the grey animal, believing he would make use of him as an experimental intelligence creature and shipped him off to his new domain in New York.” Miwa removed the towel she had dawdled with her hands and hung it on the hook. There was a knowing look about her that directed to each brother. With the fashion of doing so, the four wanted to believe there was some speculation. They looked to one another, silently asking each other what could be meant by that. “It’s not a riddle, stupid monkey boys!” the Ancient One criticized as he got up from the table. He left the room; no further comment and did not put away his dish. Miwa shook her head as the old man left for his nap. All of a sudden, Raphael smiled. He brought it up from the floor and showed it to his brothers. The other three were confused until Donatello had himself an “ah ha!” moment. Not a second passed by shortly after until Leonardo realized. Unfortunately, Michelangelo was still trying to figure it out, replaying it back in his head. Her dad had a rat. “A Thorn in his side”. Shipped to-.” it hit him; big eyes and all. He raised his hands to his head until showing them the gesture of ‘mind blown’. Finally understanding, they were able to share the moment properly. Venus and Mona slowly understood and shared the moment with one another with knowing glances. “Thank you, Miwa.” Leonardo removed himself from behind the chair and approached her by the sink. She knew what was coming as she watched the young one straighten up and leaned over slowly in her honor. “For everything.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. He cranked his neck to see her pleased expression. “Anything for one of my favorite students.” Slowly, Leonardo rose to grin. Miwa really did give him the chance of a lifetime, and now, he was finished with his training. What more can a turtle ask for? Behind Leonardo, a hand raised. The older woman, leaned off to the side to see past Leonardo. Noticing, he stepped aside and also wanted to see what was happening behind him. The hand came from Mona Lisa whose face was blank and expressionless. “But I'm first, right?” She wanted to assure for bragging rights. The table was in another fit of laughter from her joke. For the sake of it, Miwa nodded, but couldn’t contain her giggles. One would have no idea how good it felt to be at this dinner table. “Ready to go back to NYC?” Michelangelo pushed Donatello away some to get to Venus. He squatted by her side, using hind hand to grip the top of the chair to keep him from falling on his shell. The action frightened her, but for a moment. “We've got some pretty cool surprises waiting back home.” “Oh, no. What is it?” The blue banded terrapin asked in regret. “Gonna have to find that out for yourself!” Michelangelo winked, but that brought no ease to the older brother for he anticipated a groan for later on. Venus, on the other hand, wasn’t looking so easy. Her body weight shifted on the chair and kept her eye contact to the ground. “I’ve been thinking…” the female terrapin drifted off, deciding whether or not she wanted to admit to them. “I have to stay.” The breaths at the table were held in. Maybe this was a mechanism to hear her better for surely they didn’t hear her right. Did they? The air grew awkward from the stillness up till a point where Raphael had to break the silence. “Venus, if you don't want to leave-.” “No! Heavens no! I'm ready to go back to New York!” She cried; now, a collective sigh of relief. Donatello leaned over the top of the chair to catch an angle of her face. “What's keeping you?” “The Wizards Council.” she breathed, quite tired. Her wounds were taking a toll on her. “Khan is right. It's dying with Chung I and even more so with Khan in absence.” A hefty breath escaped her lungs. Donatello placed his hands on top of her shoulders in exchange from the chair. Michelangelo proceeded similarly, placing a hand atop her knee. The female terrapin grinned from the kind gestures. “It'd be only fair if I stay to sort things out. I am the daughter of Chung I, it is my duty.” Her explanation was thorough and sensible. She was trained personally by the great master. Surely, she will find a way. But, of course the brothers (and sensei) would dislike the idea of losing their gentle sister for a while longer. Alas, she has a responsibility and not one was to get in her way. Meanwhile, Mona was thinking up an idea of her own. “Well, if that's the case, then I'm staying too!” Mona offered. Venus turned quickly towards her sister. “Mona, you have no obligation to stay. You aren't a magician.” “But as Chung I’s other daughter, I say I do.” Her offer was firm and proud with a look to match. Venus couldn't argue with that. In fact, it will be fun to have her sister here to relieve and create new memories. The turtle girl grinned, and soon, the lizard lady copied. “Aw!” The sudden loudness coming from the youngest turtle caused a jumpscare at the table. “How long y'all gonna stay here?” he groaned. “Not too long.” “Just enough time to get these old guys in line.” Mona elaborated playfully. The orange clad terrapin immediately tensed up. Then, he relaxed as he lifted a knowing brow and lifted up a hand to snap with. “Okay ladies now let's get in formation!” he sang, moving his hand rhythmically with his snaps. “Exactly!” Mona pointed out. To further his act, he lifted up a ‘wait’ finger and patted his body, looking for something. “I got some got hot sauce in my bag.” he said as he kept looking for the imaginary bag. “Swag.” Raphael nodded across the table. “Hot sauce?” Leonardo asked the next oldest. “You missed out, bro.” was the only explanation he could give him. Although confused and usually wishing to seek out an answer, Leonardo just couldn’t this time. So many secrets, so much sleep needed. “I'm down for the count.” he put his hands up in surrender. They did notice his eyes were half closed and he appeared less animated at the table. Saluting them first, he turned and sought out to head back to the house in which he stayed in. “What do you mean? I'm all types of awake!” Mikey stood up, trying not to use Venus’ knee as his push-off. He lifted his big arms, stretching them out wide. Leo turned, pointing at the ground with both of his hands as he walked slowly backwards. “Nighttime here. Darkness. Chinese people sleep at this hour.” he replied flatly and smartly. His younger brother had a realization and dropped the matter quickly. “And so does the Falcon.” Vern rose. Upon standing, he yawned, but tried to keep it quiet to be polite to his hosts. “I'll lead you to one of our guest rooms.” Miwa pressed a hand behind his back to gently guide him away from the kitchen light. When they passed Leo from the entryway, he eyed them until disappearing into one of the hallways. “Falcon?” His brow was raised and pointed a thumb in their direction. Donatello waved him off. “We’ll tell you when we’re on the plane.” that sounded like a groan to him. Surely, it’s something stupid Vern came up with. One more mystery he’ll have to figure out for later. “No reason to be awake now. I'm going to try to fall asleep or something. Care to join?” He asked the remaining family members. Venus nodded. He offered a hand and she graciously put hers on top of it. The girl couldn’t help feeling like an elderly woman as her body rose slowly with the aid of the kind boy. Still sore, he held her up as she explained where they were to go. With a ways to go, it was best that they should get going. “Not quite.” Mona pushed off the chair she stood behind. “I want to see my colt.” Quickly, she made an exit to the back door where her gelding and the stallion were tied to a tie bar for the night. “Right behind you.” Raphael pushed in his chair and followed out back. He slammed the old door behind him, sending a ring throughout the room. The only ones left were the three youngest of the bunch. “You guys can hang with me in my room tonight.” She offered. Donatello nodded, not quite sure how to respond but focused his energy on getting her home. He knew that she hated to feel helpless and weak, so carrying her was off the table. Before they could leave the Wu Kwan, Michelangelo impatiently tapped on his brother’s shoulder. Unable to turn around completely for Venus’ sake, he only turned his head. “You wanna be my snuggle buddy?” the young one asked childishly. The purple clad terrapin remained silent; his expression blank as he carried on moving his best friend through the door. “Is that a ‘yes’?” There was no light outside. The subtle glow of the village’s lanterns kept the landscape around them from being utter darkness. Miwa had lit some lanterns on the back porch, yet they could only outline the bodies of the tied animals and show a reflection in their eyes. Raphael was just taking a seat on an empty space of the bar when Mona hopped on Nan. Although bareback, the horse recognized her voice and touch and allowed her to sit atop his back. He shuffled in his spot as she leaned over, placing her head on the side of his neck and stretching her legs and tail out until they hung off the back of his hindquarters. His smell, his warmth and fur, hearing his heartbeat eased her and took her to another planet as she lay there. Raphael hung out in the silence, not wanting to spoil the moment with his voice. He knew darn well how much being with this animal meant to her. He simply enjoyed watching her take it all in being home and with everything she knew once more. “It's going to suck having to leave everything again, especially my little cherry bay baby!” Loving hands caressed the furrows cheek of the wild beast. It snorted, lifting its head to a high position as she scratched him. The lizard girl giggled at her pet’s reactions and had to move her head in respect to his own. He's never changed. “Not really.” He spoke uneasily. Good thing she really couldn’t see his face. “Sure, he'll be in my heart and all that…. Blah, blah, blah!” “No. Mikey and I found that picture of him in your room.” At the moment, he could feel the silence as well as a look that showed ‘YALL WERE IN MY ROOM?!?’ was surely there, in which he made his explanation quick. “We made a few calls and now, they're ready to go. When you leave, or course.” “What do you mean?” she pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Jamboree cow horses. April made arrangements for them to stay there. They're a family friend and the closest neighbors to her family estate. Full visitation rights and use. If Venus would allow it, they'd like to use Yujin as a stud. Of course, you can't use Nan, as we learned earlier, which would be a bummer.” he chuckled, pointing at the wild spirit who was on his better behaviors. “Yeah,” She sighed agreeably. “we don't need any more ponies like you out in the world.” a loving pat on his shoulder brought no objection from the animal. She slid off his side and went in to engulf the base of his neck into her arms.“But I love you all the same.” Mona assured him, though he lifted his head up again when she squeezed. Anticipating any further antics, she immediately let go, giggling. “Thank you so much, Raphael!” Mona quickly trotted up to the turtle to squeeze him herself. He almost fell backwards, but was quick to tighten his grip around the bars to keep himself up. “You have no idea how much this means to me!” She spoke on his shoulder. Although he couldn’t hug her back, she could feel the love in his relaxed posture as time went on. “Uh… um… Mona?” “Hm?” She released him. His hands relaxed when he was able to regain balance on the bar. “About the ride over here…” His voice trailed off, as well as his gaze. A nervus scratch of the neck confirmed such allegations. “Why did you do that?” She cocked her head to the side, or he could tell in the little light they had. “Knock you out a few times?” she finished the thought. “What! A few times?!” He exploded. “Hush! What about it?” She dismissed him due to the hour of the night and to get to his point quicker. “Why did you do that?” he paused. “Knock me out a couple times?” Mona Lisa shrugged, turning to go back to her horse. “Who needs to know?” Her voice was flowy and unsuspecting as she went to smooth the hindquarters of the cherry bay animal. “Surely your brothers would use that type of information against you.” “What?” Did she have to spell it out? “You're afraid of heights.” “Nope, not afraid.” He shook his head violently, wanting to get such a thought out of both of their heads. “It's flying. And...the heights that come with it.” He played. She had him, and there was no way to hide it. Having caught in a corner, the two laughed it off for a short period. “You did it because you didn't want the guys to blackmail me?” “We already give you a tough time. No need to add to the list.” “That's decent, Mona.” “I know.” A cocky smile and tilt of the head as she smoothed her horse over. “Besides, you're not always the big brute of the clan. You just stand out a little more. Big bodied, big voice.” He was standing up now. Raphael shook his head and his arms as he approached her. Did she really just say that? About muah? “We're not talking about screamin’ matches ‘cause if I remember correctly, you're the one yelling all the time.” He cleared his throat to create a higher pitched sound. “‘Oh my gosh! Donnie, again with the pop tarts?! Leo! Stop letting the kettle whistle! Mikey! If you drop another piece of food and leave it there you're gonna end up missing!’” he joked (although it was plenty truthful). The lizard lady dropped her jaw in disbelief. “I don't say that!” She defended herself, combing her fingers through Nan’s mane. “I said ‘you'll never be found again!’”. She added, laughing at herself. A sigh escaped her lips, as well as Raphael’s. It had been a long night, but hanging out here proved relaxing (despite the short term yelling). “Remember when we used to have little screaming matches?” her voice mellowed out with the quiet night. “How can I forget? I was accused of having a baby with you.” He relived the memory, the painful memory of being in the hasi for absolutely nothing. Totally not cool, Splinter. Slowly, he approached the two. Wanting to get the feel of the fellow, he outstretched a careful hand. After hearing how wild he was, he was cautious as to how and where he was to place his hand. If all goes wrong, his legs were ready to bound out of there. Each second, he struggled to when he could do it and didn't have enough bravery to carry through. Tired of waiting for the action, Mona took the matters into her own hands by taking his. She gripped his wrist evenly and pressed it against the horse’s skin. Once there, she let him go feel for himself. The horse did nothing, much to his relief. His courage gathered up quickly as he began to rub and scratch along the animal’s side. “Yeah, that was messed up of them.” Mona agreed. “Feels like a long time ago.” “We've gone a long way. Now we’re just kicking it, with psycho-pony over here.” She patted him on the neck, but with love of course. When she stopped, so did the sound in the world. Crickets were off at a distance despite the long tall grasses that surrounded them. “I'm really gonna miss you, Raph.” she admitted. Being with Venus again was going to be wonderful, but of all the fun things she had done with her three brothers, and he especially, it’ll be just as bad as missing Venus. The red clad turtle smirked, but it was quite genuine. If you could see in the light, it was actually his reaction to blushing. “Can I say one more thing?” he asked. “No one’s stopping you.” “I just figured, you know…” His hands kept moving along the horse’s back to keep him together. “Since we’ll be apart it'll give you some time to think it over and not be pressured by this.” Pressured. Oh, boy. What’s this turtle up to? “Yes?” Mona asked, encouraging him to go on. He put his eyes to the ground. It was so quiet she can hear the gulp going down his throat. “Mona…” “All aboard the Falcon express!” Vern hollered for all of China to hear. The gang had returned from their little tour of the village until it came time to head back home. At the moment, the family was in the field in which the airplane was parked. “Hey! If anybody's gonna be naming stuff, it's gonna be me!” Michelangelo yelled back in defiance. “Just tell us when and what plane you guys are boarding. They'll take the horses and you guys can stay with them instead of the cargo hold if you want.” Raphael explained to Mona Lisa, to whom they were saying their goodbyes to. “Thank you, Raphael.” She smiled, then reached out to hug him. No longer on a rail, he was able to use his arms to wrap around her body. “I'll miss you.” “Bringing the horses was my idea too!” Michelangelo ripped their hug apart for his own selfish purposes. His older brother scowled, but Mona took him in open arms. “Of course, I couldn't forget Michelangelo!” She treated him like a child, but he could not deny. He stretched out his arms wide and scooped up the lizard girl in loving embrace. She squeaked at the sudden gesture, but could only shrug when she saw that loving face below her. “You can touch all my magazines, just don't mess them up.” She petted his bald head until he brought her back to the ground. “You got it chief!” He saluted. Mona returned it, skeptically, but let it slide for it was the typical behaviors of her littlest brother. Soon, his eyes looked for someone else. “Where's the other Sista?” “I got her first!” Donatello announced before Mikey could tear them apart. The next morning, Venus was better off’ no longer needing the support, but still slow at the walk. The turtle took the precautionary measures by holding both of her hands as he clown around with her with questions. “When Evil gangs try to take over China again, what do we do?” He asked like a father quizzing their young child. Venus giggled, then composed herself to answer rhythmically. “Call the family.” “That's my girl!” Donnie praised her. Unable to give her a hug, he found the kind gesture of placing a kiss upon her hand suiting enough. The turtle girl blushed for she had never experienced the gesture herself. It was cute. “Until next time, Venus. I have some new projects you'll be excited to come back to.” “Can't wait. I hate to be leaving you again. I just got my best friend back.” her tone was dreary and upset. To fix the mood, Donnie pretended to sound choked up. “It's one of those long distance relationships that got to work.” Venus couldn’t keep a straight face with that act. “You'll stay strong?” Eventually, she had to become indifferent to match his tone with her answer. “Yeah, yeah I think so.” That straight face did not last long when she burst into a fit of laughter. She squeezed his hand. “Later, Donnie.” “Later, V.” The two released their grip on one another. As he went up the plane’s stairs, he took a second to look behind him. Venus waved with a raised hand. He returned the favor until being forced into the plane by the other two brothers behind him. The last of them had his belongings on his back. Having finished his goodbyes with everyone else, now it was the time to say farewell to his travelling companion. Venus could hear him due to the sounds of the pack on his back. “This is it. Ready to go back home?” she asked with a grin. Leonardo took a deep breath. “I can't wait to show Sensei everything Miwa had taught me.” He turned to face her. He couldn’t touch her, but he could touch her with words. “Thank you so much for coming along with me.” “Thank you. You've brought me back to my memories and now I have newer ones with my extended family.” That smile, so genuine and true. Leonardo could not just leave it like that. She wanted her to smile for another reason, or so he hoped she would. “Since I'll be across the world and all, I just… There's been something I've been wanting to tell you since we've been together these past few months.” He stopped. “I just hope this doesn't turn you away-.” A finger pressed upon his lips, silencing him. “A tale for next time. Your pilot is waiting.” Venus reminded him. He did not know what to do, but he knew there was some speculation in the air. Without a word, he nodded and turned away to board the plane. The engine had been revving up as the others boarded. Mona came up from behind her sister. Both shared lovely smiles with one another. Donatello and Vern waved from their higher nests until the plane began to roll forward. Passing by, the three other brothers made their faces clear in the windows by waving. You can see Michelangelo, being the silly goofball he is by making facing; Leonardo, simply waving away; Raphael, who was no longer as afraid of flying as he had, waved timidly. Mona lifted her arm and presented him her bicep. ‘Be Strong’ was her message to him. The red clad turtle nodded in the time remaining to watch the girls before they rolled by. Before the jets could pass them, the girl made their distance away from the aircraft. Both sisters held onto one another as they watched the plane roll into the grass. Soon, it lifted off the ground, carrying away the wonderful bunch off and over the chinese mountains in search of American soil once more. The place where it all began. Book 3: Olá Americano… Turtle?

#tmnt #tmntfanfiction #tmntleonardo #tmntmonalisa #tmntraphael #tmntvenus #tmntmichelangelo #tmntdonatello #tmntvern #tmntmiwa #tmnttheancientone #homefront

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fear-god-shun-evil · 6 years ago

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Forgiveness of Sins – Can God Forgive Us Who Continue to Sin?

By Fang Yu

Before long she received replies to her post.

Happiness Is Enough:

Flying Freely:

“Happiness Is Enough” is right, and I give you a thumbs up. The Lord Jesus has pardoned all our sins. Moderator, how can you worry about this?

Yearning for Light:

Chinese Parasol Tree:

Being Human Honestly:

Replies came one after another, and the argument became more and more violent.

Happiness Is Enough:

Flying Freely:

The Person of the Mountain:

Yearning for Light:

Chinese Parasol Tree:

Being Human Honestly:

Understanding Rain:

Being Human Honestly:

The Person of the Mountain:

Mm. What you say also makes sense.

Happiness Is Enough:

Everyone has his own opinion. I don’t change my opinion. Sorry, I have something else to do. I must leave first.

Chinese Parasol Tree:

Understanding Rain:

Yearning for Light:

Chinese Parasol Tree:

#Lord Jesus #gospel #the Bible #enter the kingdom of heaven #the last days

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daily-klingon · 8 years ago

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The Verb Suffix List, In Full

Here is the list of Klingon verb suffixes, in full. List taken from here.

1.Oneself/One Another [TKD 4.2.1] -’egh oneself Indicates that the action affects the subject; requires a prefix indicating that there is no object, such as jI-, bI-, . Can be used together with -moH to form a command of a stative verb, e.g. yItuj’eghmoH Heat yourself! [KGT p. 117] -chuq one another, each other This requires a prefix indicating a plural subject and no object, i.e. ma-, Su-, pe- or the null prefix.

2.Volition/Predisposition [TKD 4.2.2] -nIS , have to, must, ought to -qang willing -rup ready, prepared (referring to beings) -beH ready, set up (referring to devices) -vIp afraid It is a cultural taboo to use the suffix -vIp with I or we as subject.

3.Change [TKD 4.2.3] -choH change in state, change in direction E.g. chomuSchoH I am beginning to hate you (but I did not hate you before). The sentence pa’ ghoSchoH He/she is starting to go there implies that either the person was not going anywhere before, or that he/she changed direction. -qa’ resume, do again Indicates that the action stopped, then began again, e.g. wInejqa’ We are resuming searching for it or We search for it again.

4.Cause [TKD 4.2.4] -moH cause The subject causes a change in condition or creates a new one, e.g. qul vIchenmoH I light a fire (lit. I cause a fire to take form). Makes intransitive verbs transitive, e.g. yIqIjmoH Blacken it! (lit. Cause it to be black!). Required when making an imperative out of a stative verb (see also -’egh above).

5.Indefinite Subject/Ability [TKD 4.2.5] -lu’ indefinite subject Indicates that the subject is unknown, indefinite, and/or general. Sentences using -lu’ are often translated into English passive voice, e.g. Daqawlu’ You are remembered. -laH can, able E.g. jIQonglaH I can sleep; tlhIngan Hol vIjatlhlaH I am able to speak Klingon.

6.Qualification [TKD 4.2.6] -chu’ clearly, perfectly Indicates that an action is performed absolutely properly. [PK] -bej certainly, undoubtedly -ba’ obviously [TKDa] Indicates that the speaker thinks what he/she says should be obvious to the listener, e.g. QIpba’ He/she is obviously stupid. There is still room for doubt though, the suffix does not imply as strong a conviction as -bej. -law’ seemingly, apparently Expresses that the speaker is uncertain, and may even be thought of as meaning I think or I suspect, e.g. DuSeHlaw’ He/she seems to be controlling you or I think he/she is controlling you.

7.Aspect [TKD 4.2.7] -pu’ perfective Indicates that the action is completed. -ta’ accomplished, done Indicates that the action was deliberately undertaken and completed. -taH continuous Indicates that the action is ongoing. -lI’ in progress Indicates that the action is ongoing and proceeding toward a known goal.

8.Honorific [TKD 4.2.8] -neS honorific Indicates extreme politeness or deference. Used only when addressing a superior, e.g. HIja’neS Do me the honor of telling me. It is never required.

9.Syntactic Markers [TKD 4.2.9] Subordinate-Clause Markers A subordinate clause can occur either before or after the rest of the sentence, e.g. cha yIbaH qara’DI’ or qara’DI’ cha yIbaH Fire the torpedoes at my command! -DI’ when, as soon as -chugh if -pa’ before -vIS while The suffix -vIS is always used along with the type 7 suffix -taH, e.g. bIQongtaHvIS while you are sleeping. -mo’ due to, because of [TKDa] Note that there is also a noun suffix -mo’ with the same meaning. [TKD 6.2.2] Relative-Clause Marker -bogh which A relative clause takes the place of a noun in a sentence. It has a head noun to which its verb refers, e.g. qIpbogh yaS the officer who hit him/her or yaS qIpbogh the officer whom he/she hit. If there is more than one noun in the clause, the head noun is indicated with the suffix -’e’ topic, e.g. loDHom qIpbogh mang’e’ the soldier who hit the boy. [TKD 6.2.3; TKW pp. 142, 189] Purpose-Clause Marker -meH for, for the purpose of, in order to The purpose clause always precedes the noun or verb whose purpose it is describing, e.g. ja’chuqmeH rojHom a truce in order to confer; jagh luHoHmeH lunejtaH They are searching for the enemy in order to kill him/her. [TKD 6.2.4] Main-Clause Modifiers -’a’ interrogative Indicates that a sentence is a yes/no question, e.g. bIjang’a’ Will you answer? [TKD 6.4] -jaj may, let [TKDa] Expresses a desire or wish on the part of the speaker that something take place in the future. If used in a toast (but not otherwise) the sentence word order becomes object–subject–verb. E.g. wo’ ghawran DevtaHjaj May Gowron continue to lead the Empire, if the same thing were to be expressed as a wish or aspiration on the speaker's part, and not a toast, it would be said wo’ DevtaHjaj ghawran instead. Note: Klingons seem to be a bit touchy on the subject of toasts, and so it is important to use only the handful of accepted toasts. [PK; KGT pp. 25–26] Nominalizers (Turns Verb into Noun) -wI’ one who does/is, thing which does/is In reference to inanimate objects it means thing which does/is or thing which is used for, when referring to beings it means one who does/is. E.g. joqwI’ flag; nanwI’ chisel; baHwI’ gunner; pujwI’ weakling. Also used to say things like DoqwI’ the red one. [TKD 3.2.2] -ghach nominalizer [TKDa] Turns a verb (which must have at least one other suffix attached) into a noun. The use of this suffix often makes for bad Klingon, and it is strongly suggested that you refrain from using any word with -ghach, unless it is found in the dictionary. E.g. naDHa’ghach discommendation; naDqa’ghach re-commendation.

R.Rovers [TKD 4.3] -be’ not This suffix follows the element (verb or verb suffix) which it negates, e.g. choHoHvIpbe’ You are not afraid to kill me, choHoHbe’vIp You are afraid to not kill me. It cannot be used in imperatives (where -Qo’ is used instead), but it can be applied to verbs used adjectivally, e.g. yIHmey lI’be’ useless tribbles [TKDa 4.2.9; CK] -Qo’ don't!, won't! This suffix always occurs last, unless followed by a type 9 suffix. It is used in imperatives and to denote refusal. -Ha’ undo Always occurs immediately after the verb, before any other suffixes. It indicates that something that was previously done is now undone, or that something is done wrongly, e.g. nobHa’ give back; yajHa’ misunderstand. Can also be applied to verbs used adjectivally, e.g. ’eyHa’ undelicious; yepHa’ careless. [KGT pp. 30, 84, 150] -qu’ emphatic This suffix follows the element (verb or verb suffix) which it emphasizes, e.g. nImuSlaw’qu’ They SEEM to hate you, nImuSqu’law’ They seem to HATE you. Can also be applied to verbs used adjectivally, e.g. veng tInqu’ very big city. [TKD 4.4]

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