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grumpygreenwitch · 2 years

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The Fairy and the Prince #9 + #10

Part 1 - Part 2 - Parts 3 & 4 - Part 5 - Part 6, 7 & 8 - Part 9 & 10 - Part 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16 - Part 17, 18, & 19 - Part 20, 21 & 22 - Part 23, 24, 25 & 26 - Part 27, 28, 29 & 30 - Part 31, 32, 33 & 34 - Part 35, 36 & 37 - Part 38, 39, 40 & 41 - Part 42 & 43 - Part 44 & 45 - Part 46 & 47 - Part 48, 49, 50 & 51 - Part, 52, 53 & 54 - Part 55 & 56 - Part 57, 58, 59 & 60 - Part 61, 62, 63, 64 & 65 - Part 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71 & 72

Hm. I considered, very much, posting these chapters separately. But 9 ends in a cliffhanger and that seemed incredibly mean, and so I didn’t. I’m a grumpy goat, not a mean one.

On a rainy day of early spring, Prince Rickard accused Prince Ulster of stealing a favorite book. The book, of course, was found in Ulster's room; he claimed it had been loaned to him, a gift between friends. The argument came down to the only solution available where every wronged party had only words, not witnesses.

Rickard ran Ulster through, and all the Queen's physicians could do was stabilize him long enough to make the trip home and die with his family. Prince Alexander formally abandoned his claim to the throne and rode away on that day. Adam watched the train leave, perched on his windowsill. They wouldn't be the last, he was sure; Rickard had opened a door the older princes would be too eager to troop through.

Meanwhile Adam found himself having to sneak away again. Aware that the youngest prince had, for some reason, caught the Dowager's eye, master Leminy stuffed Adam's schedule full without so much as the prince's by-your-leave. Adam retaliated by beginning his disappearing act once again. No amount of shouting at Beli or Dane would make them chase after the young prince when he took to the rooftops, and when the Master of Scions tried his temper against Arditty, he discovered himself at the receiving end of someone who could, and did, out-shout, out-shriek, out-talk and out-curse him. He beat a hasty retreat, not wishing attention brought to his faults, gritted his teeth, and tried every other trick in the book to figure out where the foul little urchin was going off to.

It couldn't be a girl. The disappearing had started long before Adam's interest in the fair sex had been roused, and he seemed about as interested in the lovely Arditty and her occasional companions as he was in his jousting lessons.

It couldn't be extra classes. Every teacher in the palace accounted for their time down to the last minute, the last tick and turn of a toothed wheel, and Leminy's careful investigations had revealed no other source of education, noble or plebeian.

No, the boy was larking off, and gods only knew where. In all honesty, if he'd known Adam kept going into the woods to wait for Linden, master Leminy would have likely backed off and waited gleefully for him to disappear. He would have taken away the prince's friends, his horse, his hawk, his books, everything, but the Queen Dowager thought it utterly adorable that the youngest of her potential heirs was organizing a tidsy-bitsy court around himself. If they were to suddenly vanish, she would want to know why.

So Leminy raged impotently and Adam waited impatiently. Wary of the woods, where the fog might creep up on him from ambush, he waited at the very edge, on the roof of a water mill in the newly finished Royal Gardens, or climbing up the trees that had been moved into them. It was there that he saw Boul, creeping out of the woods by small measures, squinting at the bring afternoon sunlight, shading his face with an upraised hand and looking at least twice as big as he'd been when Adam had last seen him.

"Boul!" he cried out gladly, forgot he was nearly twenty feet off the ground, and stepped on a too-thin branch that snapped right out from under his boot.

A strong, nut-brown hand caught his, and the wild and merry laugh he knew so well made his heart soar. "You're never getting good at this, are you?"

"Why should I?" He grinned up at Linden, his grip around their wrist as strong as his friend's around his. "You're always there to catch me."

Linden laughed again, pulling him up, and they slid together down the tree and into a hug as soon as they hit the ground. The young troll had indeed grown, and he rumbled in flustered surprise when Adam hugged him as well, long arms coming around the prince and very carefully patting him in welcome. They exchanged leaving-and-returning and staying-and-waiting presents, and Adam watched in fascination as Boul pressed the stone arrow-head to his arm, where it sank seamlessly into the pebbled gray skin, only to reappear a moment later, point up, between the young troll's knuckle. Boul looked incredibly pleased. Linden wove the striped, long feather of a hawk into their hair, and then helped secure around Adam's neck a grass necklace with a shell that had long ago turned to shimmering stone.

They ran wild through the woods and crept along the raw new edges of the Royal Gardens. They spied on the late afternoon classes in the inner and outer yards. Adam tried to teach Boul to fight and gave up when he realized he was only bruising his knuckles against the pebbly gray skin of the troll. He tried his luck against Linden, but his friend with their shattered eyes and the wild mop of their fine white hair was as fast as the swift-traveling clouds. The young prince tried to practice his wrestling on Boul, too, but even their weight combined was still not enough to even budge the young troll, who took to racing wild and gleeful through the woods with both his friends dangling off his neck like the twin ends of a scarf, all of them laughing.

They met the kelpie right in the middle of summer's highest heat, when the air was still and full of motes, the leaves at their darkest green, the light golden. Boul could only come by once a week at that point, and they both missed him terribly. Linden was flopped on one immense, exposed root from the linden tree, half-drowsed and whistling back to the birds in the canopy, who found the conversation both invigorating and maddening, if their enthusiastic replies were anything to go by. Adam, having shed everything but his pants and shirt, was lying with his back on the sweet green grass and his feet propped up on the tree of the trunk, the bark a pleasant scratchy feeling against his heels. He was bouncing a piece of Linden's sunlight, bright and warm, from one hand to another, and he was nearly asleep.

The scream that cut through the woods sent every bird on the wing in perfect, panicked silence, as if a hawk had swooped at them from the empty blue sky. Adam rolled and scrabbled to his feet and nearly got trampled by a deer that had been grazing startlingly close to the children. Linden fell right off the root with a squawk, coming back up on their knees behind it, eyes wide on a face so pale their green freckles were starkly visible.

"What was -" The scream repeated, louder, full of madness and fury and agony, and Adam felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to join the deer in its heedless flight. "Linden."

"Oh, no," his friend whispered.

"Linden, what is that."

"Adam, we should -"

"Linden."

"We should go -"

The scream came again, rising to a shrieking note that rang against Adam's bones and rattled in his teeth, making every inch of him clench in pain. All he could think at the moment was that, if that was how the sound of it made him feel, what sort of torture was the creature screaming feeling? A moment later he was running, barefoot, panting, through the woods.

"Adam!" Linden was just a breath behind him. All around them the trees whispered, and for all that he could never fully hear them, the prince felt their concern, their worry and their fear. He raced on. They passed the great fallen giant that had once been their fortress, their ship, their dragon, until decay had sent it back to join the rich ground from whence it had once sprung. They passed a low, ruined wall of tumbled stones and roses gone to briars. They ran until the ground under their feet went muddy and soft and Adam nearly fell and was forced to check his speed, breathing hard, shoving cattails and wild irises out of his way.

"Adam, we can't be here!" Linden whispered, trying to catch his breath.

A new scream deafened them, and they both dropped to a crouch on the soggy ground, curled up, trying to escape what couldn't be fled, driven by instinct to make themselves small. Adam recovered first, inching forward, but he could feel the sun-warm presence of Linden at his back after a moment, and then the clinging hands of his friend clutching the back of his shirt.

The ground opened up to a pond. There were rotten stumps of wood off to one side that said once it had been a tame place, but that had been a long time ago, long enough that the stumps were soft and rounded, covered in moss and barely peeking out of the water. It was a beautiful place. There were two willows and several cherry trees growing by the water, gnarled with age and the passage of the wind. The shores were screened here and there with cattails and wild irises, with wort and mint, but for the most part there was a vast ribbon of clear, soft and short green grass all around the water, as if inviting anyone who passed by to sit, to rest and enjoy the cool breeze and the pretty sights.

It was a very well crafted trap.

The water, normally clean and with a delicate embroidery of wild water lilies, had been churned to a muddy frot, thrashed to chaos by the heavy links of a chain. One end of it disappeared into the depths of the water, and Adam knew instantly what it was: a storm chain. At some point the pond had been part of a river's sluice system, likely the same river that had been partially diverted to cavort and twist in artificially wild whorls and cascades through the Royal Gardens. The gate and its mechanism had likely gone to ruin eventually; when they'd done so, the chain that controlled both had grown loose.

And the pond's master had, somehow, got caught in it.

The kelpie was running in narrow, maddened arcs at the other end of the chain. It wasn't disguised; this was no beautiful white horse, no magnificent stallion, no sweet mare. Adam could count every bone under the sagging, mold-splotched white hide. Its eyes were a poisonous green and most of its face was bare bone, a few scarce strands of rotting flesh holding together its jaws, jaws full of teeth even a dragon would have envied. Froth and spittle flew from those jaws as it bucked and twisted and writhed, but the chain, the iron chain, had tangled up around a foreleg and, in trying to get free, the fairy horse had somehow ended up with both leg and neck caught in a loop. The broken end of the chain ended in a hook that no longer attached to anything, and that hook kept slamming into the side of the kelpie's neck, which was slowly oozing a black, sickly slime from a dozen wounds.

It would have fled into the water, Adam was certain, if it weren't because the chain was coming from the water, and likely the kelpie thought there was an enemy, a predator, on the other end, instead of whatever hundredweight counterweight stone had been placed there an unknown age ago.

The kelpie paused in its frantic struggles, sniffing the breeze. Adam felt Linden gasp tinily.

The monster lunged at them, its scream fury and hunger. Linden yanked at Adam's shirt.

"Wait," Adam caught Linden's hand. His math was nowhere near Beli's level, but his archery was excellent.

He wasn't wrong. The chain yanked taut and the kelpie crashed down a good four body lengths or more from them, shrieking impotent fury. It fought itself to its feet with tremendous effort, the chain's hook now embedded into a shoulder, faced them, and hissed.

"Adam," Linded whispered urgently, "we should go."

"But it's hurt. It's caught."

"It's caught in iron, Adam, we can't help it, and even if we could, it's a kelpie!"

"And?" Adam turned to face those beautiful many-colored eyes. "That's his nature, not his fault. That's like blaming me for being a prince when I never wanted to be."

"Adam, I can't make you not a prince," Linden declared impatiently, "but I hope I can keep you from getting chewed up to bits!"

Adam looked away. Linden was right, of course. The kelpie didn't care. It wouldn't care if they tried to help it, it wouldn't care if they had good intentions. It was a kelpie. It hunted, it drowned, it ate. As fairies went, it was one of the simplest, for all that it also was one of the most dangerous.

"It's just wrong, to leave anything to die like that," Adam said quietly.

"Yes, it is," Linden agreed after a moment. And then, because they had been friends for so long, they added, "I would help you, but I won't risk you. You're my friend, the kelpie's not."

Adam couldn't help but grin. "I don't think he's anyone's friend, Linden."

"Do you really think we can help it?"

"I don't know. Let me think." Adam chewed restlessly on his lips. In the distance he heard horns from the castle, saw the kelpie's head come up, ears pricked. "Oh, butter and burrs," he muttered, Culli's favorite non-swear.

"What is it, what's happened?"

"They heard him screaming at the palace. They're calling for everyone to go indoors." Adam blew a low breath. "I'm going to be in so much trouble."

Linden made no comment, but from their expression Adam had a sudden, unexpected insight into his friend's life. "Are you going to be in trouble for helping it, Linden?"

"Not for helping it," his friend replied. It would have probably worked on any other twelve-year-old.

"For helping me?"

"No!" Linden blew out a sharp sigh. "For getting this close to it at all." When Adam looked faintly frustrated, they pointed both hands dramatically at the monstrous creature. "It's a kelpie, Adam," they pointed out tartly.

"Ugh!" Adam tugged impatiently at his hair, as if by doing so he could tug out some miraculous fix to the problem at hand. "Can you get us some rope?"

"You can't trap a kelpie with rope."

"It's not for him, it's for me."

***

Adam had meant to use himself as bait but Linden wouldn't have it, and they were, the prince had to admit, the quicker and more agile of the two. He waited and watched, chewing restlessly on his nails and nursing a near-painful pit in his stomach, as Linden slipped out of the cover the wild irises had given them both. The kelpie turned immediately, one side lathered in its black, oozing blood.

Linden bowed, graceful and polite, never taking their eyes off the creature. With an awkward hobble, the kelpie bowed back, and lunged.

Linden ran, fleet as a stray breeze, and the kelpie's teeth closed on nothing. The fairy predator twisted around with preternatural grace, but Linden was better and the false horse nearly went down trying to keep up. They ran for the willow trees and the kelpie surged forward on the straight sprint.

Linden twisted away and slid on the mud, and from his spot among the irises Adam winced as he heard the kelpie's fangs snap shut. Like thistle down, a few white hairs flew away in the breeze and the monstrous horse howled fury, leaping to re-orient itself, stumbling. Linden was halfway to the gnarled cherry trees when the kelpie surged finally after them.

Adam, watching with his heart in his mouth and drowning in preemptive regrets, saw it at last, saw it as clearly as he'd never seen it before: a branch swung low, covered in glossy green leaves, like a gnarled hand. With the kelpie's hungry breath washing over the back of their fragile neck, Linden caught that hand and twisted around the cherry tree, turning right back the way they'd come. The false horse slid, crashed down, scrabbled to its feet and launched after its prey, blind with hunger, all its cunning drowned in rage. Linden whipped around another cherry tree, the ground under their feet impossibly free of gnarled, jutting roots, and the kelpie followed, neck stretched out after the promise of warm flesh and hot blood to sate its hunger -

The chain it was trailing abruptly drew up short; the kelpie went flying ass over teakettle in a crash that would have absolutely killed a normal horse. It righted itself, legs flailing at angles nothing alive should have been able to exhibit without immense pain, and simply rested there, on the ground, looking absolutely perplexed. It looked behind itself, as if to confirm the obvious, and snorted in absolute disbelief: the chain was a knot of twists and loops and turns.

Adam rushed over to where Linden had stopped, hands on their knees, breathing hard. "You did it!"

"Uh-huh," was all Linden could wheeze. "Your turn."

"Right." Adam looked at the kelpie; it had fixed its venomous, alien gaze on the two of them, ears as flat to its bare skull as any real horse's, and likely for the same reason. It took every ounce of courage the prince had never known he had to take the first step forward toward the monster.

The kelpie awkwardly surged to its hooves and growled, a low and burbling sound. Adam faltered, and then stepped forward slowly again. "Wait until I call, Linden," he cried out over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the fairy.

"I don't want to, but I will!" his friend replied, already climbing up one of the ancient willows.

Adam drew a deep, shaking breath. He had a stick in one hand, a good long one that had many times served as both spear and flagpole, and every now again as an impromptu fishing rod. It was sturdy oak, polished by his years of favoring it. Around his shoulders and waist were the knots of a slender, golden rope, as thin around as his littlest finger. He knew better than to look at it too closely; like Linden's many-colored, shattered eyes, he might see the truth of it if he did, and it'd be useless as a rope then.

He grew as close to the kelpie as he dared, and bowed as he'd seen Linden do, though nowhere near as gracefully. The kelpie's ears came up in surprise and, after a moment, it bowed back.

Adam blew out a long breath, steeled himself, and reached out with the stick, blowing sweat and sticky hair out of his eyes as he worked to keep it steady. Carefully, so carefully, he slid the tip of the stick under the hook where it had shallowly buried itself into the predator's shoulder. The white, mottled and sickly skin gave way as he pushed with a sickening squelching sound, but when Adam pulled the stick away to try again, it came free without issue. The kelpie watched him with feral intensity, and its growl never abated.

He slipped the pole under the hook on the third try, and realized gentleness would not avail him. He yanked, hard and sudden with a grunt, and the iron hook slipped free, black slimy droplets flying through the heated air. He staggered back and the kelpie lunged forward with a shrill cry, only to nearly go down face-first, checked by the chain still wrapped around its foreleg.

"Adam!"

"It's fine, it's fine!" It was so many things far beyond fine that it had come right back around to it, Adam thought as he picked himself up. He paced back and forth a bit, squinting at the sight of the chain and trying to figure out how to untangle it, the water horse's predatory gaze never wavering from him.

The easy part was dragging the chain off the kelpie's neck. It left a ragged, oozing path of rotting gray and murky black as it went, and the horse shook itself from nose to tail as it did, just as the real animal would have. Adam had to get far too close to catch the first loop tangled around the predator's leg, and when he looked up from his work it was to find that the kelpie had stretched its neck as far as it could, a long tongue like a mud eel writhing between its fangs trying to latch onto any part of the young prince it could reach. It was barely three inches away, but they were three inches it couldn't ford.

Adam swallowed the stone in his throat and sent it to join the one sitting heavily in his stomach. "Linden, get ready!"

"Ready!"

He caught the hook and lifted it with the tip of his stick, unwinding the chain by slow measures. He struck the kelpie's chest once and the horse hissed at him like a goose, but it didn't otherwise react. The leg was a blackened, sorry mess.

Moving as quick as he could, Adam swung the hook aside. Almost before he knew if he'd done it right he was scrabbling back and away, yanking the pole up like a shield. "Linden!"

The kelpie leapt forward, free, and its head struck like a viper's, aimed for Adam's throat. Instead its jaws found that faithful length of weathered oak. Its fangs closed like a cleaver striking a carcass, and the pole splintered with a terrible crack.

Adam went down on his butt, but he was already flying back, back and away, sliding over the mud and grass as if he were a leaf and a strong wind had caught him, Linden pulling on the rope as fast as their hands could move. The kelpie, bad leg or not, screamed a challenge and lunged after prey that kept denying him. It tripped, the leg unwilling to fully hold it upright, and it tried to snap instead at one of the prince's bare feet. Adam threw one of the stick halves at it and it reared in shock, its whinny almost a horse's if not for the note of utter disbelief in it. As if it couldn't fathom having a stick thrown at its face as a defense mechanism.

And then Adam was at the willow, and he scrabbled for branches that were simply there, where his hands would find them. He climbed, in panic and desperation, trying to catch a breath terror would not let him have. Strong hands found his and yanked him up even as he kicked himself away from the ground. The kelpie's teeth snapped shut one last time, just below him. Under the willow, the fairy horse dropped from its rear and spun, squealing in fury, cow-kicking at the willow's trunk. It paced and trotted underneath, head cocked so it could stare at the two children, first with one eye, then the other, snarling openly.

Adam and Linden climbed a little higher.

The kelpie chewed on the willow's bark, likely out of spite more than any thought that it could actually take the venerable tree down. It yanked on the trailing boughs, brought several down and grew incensed all over again when they draped over the wounds on its back. It crow-hopped and kicked and circled the tree like a prowling wolf. And finally, after pawing at the ground restlessly with its bad leg and bending down to sniff at it, it hobbled away, proud and slow, tail held up like a banner. By the time it disappeared beyond the cherry trees, it was a magnificent white stallion with bright blue eyes and a leg bathed in crimson blood.

The children fought to catch their breath, harried and ragged, Adam's head nearly at the top of the willow, Linden halfway out of the canopy.

The willow creaked in the breeze.

The cherry trees sighed.

"It's gone," Linden whispered. "Adam..."

Slowly, unexpected, laughter bubbled up from them both. They looked at each other and for some reason that made them laugh even harder, the sight of them, the knowledge of what they had achieved, with a weathered oak pole and a rope made of woven dandelions and the two of them and nothing else.

Linden tumbled off the willow, laughing like the ringing of crystal bells, and landed sprawled on the soft grass beneath the willow. Adam scrambled down and dropped on his stomach, and they could do little but laugh until they couldn't breathe, next to the beautiful pond and in the shade of the whispering willow boughs. In the end, Adam rose to his feet and offered Linden a hand. "Come on!"

They raced through the woods, laughing still, whooping gladly into the golden, still air. Occasionally in the distance they would hear the palace knights shouting, calling out to one another as they tried to find the source of the screaming, bereft of guidance now that it had stopped. None of the searchers found the two friends as they sprinted beneath the trees, none of them saw them pass, or heard their merry sounds, or the whisper of their footsteps. They ran out of the woods and through the primly manicured lawns of the palace, across empty courtyards and over low hedges. Linden took the lead, leaping gracefully as a hart atop a low wall, Adam following, fearless in the wake of his best and first friend. They raced over the ledges and roofs and narrow heights of the palace as wildly as they had run through the woods, unafraid and unfaltering, calling out greetings to the water spouts and the nesting swallows.

Culli-maid was sitting next to the cold heart in Adam's rooms when she heard the rapid tapping on one of the windows. At first she'd thought it was herself; she had a terribly unladylike habit of tapping her foot rapidly when she came under stress. But a quick look down reminded her that she was wearing soft leather slippers and, anyway, they would have made no sound on the thick pile of the rug before the empty hearth.

She thought it might be the boys, but the last time she'd checked on them Beli had had his nose buried in one of Adam's homework journals, checking against it his own work, and Dane had been asleep, snoring faintly, on a couch. Neither had reason to draw attention to themselves, least of all at that moment.

Eventually, she realized where the sound came from, and gasped hugely. The mending she'd hardly been tending to tumbled from her lap to the ground and she rushed to the window; there, on the other side, Adam pointed at the locks.

"Oh, tree-father and night-mother!" the maid whispered, flapping a hand at the prince. "Alright, well, step away so I don't shove you off whatever it is you're standing on!" she hissed at him before throwing the window open. "Your Highness, where've you been!"

Adam grinned at her and leaned back some, and Culli's breath caught very sharply. The prince was clinging by his fingertips to the graven stone windowsill, filthy and unafraid, the bright blue of his royal-blood eyes alive in a way she had never seen. There were green smears on his shirt, flecks of mud and dirt everywhere on him, and his hair would have made rats a proud nest. He was standing, as far as she could tell, on the slippery clay of a rain sluice pipe, unconcerned at the fact that only his toes had room to perch on it, or that he was four stories above a rose garden.

"Having fun," Adam replied, releasing one hand to rub it against his shirt. As his weight shifted, Culli lost her ability to breathe altogether.

Linden, inhuman and beautiful, graceful and wild, blinked at the maid with their shattered, many-colored eyes, and the maid blinked back.

"Culli, this is Linden. Linden, this is Culli-maid; she's good."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Culli wheezed out, manners kicking in where everything else she'd ever learned in life was failing her. She even offered a little curtsy, though it came out stiff and trembling. The motion forced her to let go of the window, and Adam scrabbled in like a squirrel.

"Pleasure to make yours, Culli-maid," Linden replied, their voice lilting and their eyes the most astonishing shade of green Culli had ever seen in a face as sharp and brown as finely carved and polished wood. She would never remember what she'd glimpsed before, buried in that green.

"Are you..." Culli swallowed to try and get her voice to work anywhere near properly. "Are you coming in?"

"Me? No! What good would it do me, what good would I do?" Linden laughed. "Adam?"

"Have they been by to check on me, Culli?"

"No, highness. But they'll be here soon, I heard them pass on the way to the other wing."

"I'll be fine, then, Linden. Will you?"

"I don't know," Linden admitted, shifting restlessly on the sluice until they noticed the Culli-maid was beginning to be more terrified of them falling than of their presence. "I'll send Boul if I get in trouble!" And with that warning Adam had to be satisfied as Linden bolted down the clay pipe, swift and light and out of sight a moment later, a leap up taking them to the roofs and beyond anyone's reach.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #original writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #boul #boul the troll #boulders-for-brains

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eruden-writes · 2 years

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The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 15 (Yautja x Human)

CHAPTER CW: Awkward tension. Discussion of forced surgery.

Tag list: @ajarofpickledtears, @boogeysmoth

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Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn’t know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she’s not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'dqei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'dqei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'dqei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja’s natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

Inside, his room was heated and humid, with walls in varying shades of desert rock coloration. A circle in the ceiling blared down warm yellow light, situated more over the bed, which was nothing more than an upraised dais covered in what appeared to be pelts. Plants flanked around the bed, some leafy and some spiky looking; though they all came in varying shades.

She took a tentative step inside, turning to Tai'dqei who stood in a space opposite the bed. It appeared to be a modest sitting area, with a couch and screen embedded into the wall. As much as Rayelle hated to admit it, this area was what she had in mind. As Tai'dqei busied himself with a console panel on the wall, Rayelle set herself down on the couch.

Firm, yet comfortable, she could feel her body relaxing into the cushions. She drew her legs up onto the couch, folding them beneath her.

"I know my room likely isn't preferable," Tai'dqei started, still not looking at her as he input commands into the panel. Rayelle noticed how tense his shoulders appeared. Finally, he looked up and the room shifted. With wide eyes, Rayelle's gaze watched as the warm red-orange-yellows faded to purple-blue-pinks, the light dimming to something more akin to dusk. "But it is my room, so there are luxuries that other rooms on the ship don't have."

Rayelle pursed her lips, looking around the room in an exaggerated fashion. Luxuries was right, if the whole room shifted to fit one's preferences. She couldn't even begin to imagine how it worked or what other indulgences he had. But, it was better than the floor and, with a glance to Tai'dqei, Rayelle shot him an awkward smile. "I don't suppose you have access to 20th and 21st century movies?"

"I have an excessive catalog of content available," Tai'dqei answered, with a one-shouldered shrug. Though he looked toward her, Rayelle got the feeling he wasn't looking at her. "You should be able to access it via your wrist gauntlet, now. Can I show you?"

Rayelle narrowed her eyes. Tai'dqei was being careful. While it was appreciated, she couldn't deny a little bit of amusement at the prospect. He was a nearly eight-foot, muscular, capable killing machine that was wary of upsetting her. Of course, perhaps Ah'ke had threatened him if he messed up again. She struck Rayelle as someone capable of holding their own friend accountable.

She gave a nod, holding her wrist gauntlet up as he stepped closer. Tai'dqei knelt down at Rayelle's knee. He showed her how to pull up the holoscreen which would give her access to programs. It ended up appearing much like a desktop with icons. Except available like a watch and with a screen that flickered to life in mid-air.

"I asked for 21st Century Human English, but translations may still be clunky," Tai'dqei mumbled, motioning to the language on the screen.

"I see," she replied, giving a little snort as his claw hit an icon that said 'VidSight.' She wasn't sure if that was the company or a mistranslation, but it bore too much of a similarity to 'television' for her to ignore the latter possibility.

Tai'dqei quickly showed her how to access the human section of his entertainment database, before further showing her how to search for particular eras. It was fairly straightforward, Rayelle was relieved to find out.

Considering what he had already told her, Tai'dqei had given up on sheltering her from information anachronistic with her time. It was easier that way.

After much time narrowing down of terms, Rayelle eventually found titles she began recognizing. She scrolled for a while, trying to decide what she felt in the mood for. Tai'dqei remained silent, still kneeling at her knee. It was difficult to choose a movie with him right there, but she eventually settled on Pride and Prejudice.

It was nice to see Jane Austen's works had survived the tests of time, to be saved into a depository of human entertainment. Perhaps there were even new renditions she could enjoy.

Once she made her choice, tapping on the option, the misty green field opening flickered to life on the screen. The room around her shifted, meeting the same shades at the viewscreen. Twittering of birds and wind chime-music box notes filled the air.

With Rayelle settled, Tai'dqei decided it was time to go. He still had to process what had happened and, to do that, he figured distance would be the best route. His voice pitched low, though it still cut gruffly over the dialogue in the movie, "I'll leave you to this. If you need anything, let me know."

Her eyes followed him as he stood, making his skin itch. She seemed to debate quickly to herself, before she said, "I wouldn't mind you staying."

That surprised him. Tai'dqei paused and squinted at the screen. He watched as a slim brunette woman passed through the scenes, walking around an apparent home. More humans, running about. One playing what he recognized as a piano. An older couple spied through a window.

It appeared to be ancient Earth, if his middling knowledge of human history was accurate.

He looked back to Rayelle, trying to confirm whether he was welcome or not. Sometimes, humans made offers they didn't really want to make. Her eyes shifted from the screen to his face, offering him a small, uncertain smile.

Once more, she was of two minds about Tai'dqei. Though conflicted over what happened, she didn't mind his presence. And she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. But she wouldn't put up a fight if he wanted to be alone. Or just away from her.

Quietly, to Rayelle's muffled delight, he lowered himself onto the couch. He sat a comfortable distance from her, but not on the far end of the couch. The reason for that, he wasn't exactly sure. But he couldn't force himself to move any further away.

Midway through the movie, Rayelle fell asleep. She was curled up against the arm of the couch, arms pillowing her head. With slow care, Tai'dqei got to his feet, doing his best to not disturb the sleeping human. After draping a blanket over her, he silently exited his quarters.

Over the duration of the vid, his mind had ambled. Partially paying attention to the movie while a greater portion of his processes gnawed on what had transpired with Rayelle.

Mostly over her conflicting answer.

"I didn't exactly say yes or no, but I enjoyed it. I just... I also didn't enjoy it."

It sent a rash of guilt and frustration through him. Was it human custom to act this way? Were human women supposed to not like sex and Rayelle struggled to accept pleasure? Or was it something else entirely?

Maybe he should have paid closer attention to her words. Tai'dqei narrowed his eyes, trying to understand. He played back her words, their movements, in his head.

"S-shouldn't you focus on piloting the ship?"

"I thought I had to stay buckled for my safety."

"I-I thought you wanted to talk."

In his lust driven mind, he thought it was simply coy tactics. Something to further delay the climax, to really put an edge to the swelling pleasure. Of course, it wasn't as if Tai'dqei needed that, but knowing Rayelle, she'd still make him suffer through it to test him.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

Yet, she said part of her wanted it while another part hadn't. His thoughts lit onto her abductors again. A deeper furrow carved between his eyebrow ridges. It wouldn't be unheard of to utilize aphrodisiacs or the like to get humans pliable to carnal desires. But what if they had done something more than that? Something that had the potential to be permanent?

His mandibles joggled irately at the very thought, the tips clacking loudly together in anger.

With new purpose, Tai'dqei strode back toward the main console in the cockpit. Hues of agitation danced along his thoughts. Enraged at those who had kidnapped and stolen Rayelle. Infuriated that others, Zav included, sought to steal Rayelle away. Mostly, he was irate at himself for his missteps and inability to think straight around this human.

His line of work was tenuous, always changing, always necessitating new angles. Getting all the information he could always worked in his favor, so he made a habit to upload any bounty's digital information when able.

And the last bounty was no exception.

Quietly, Tai'dqei cursed himself for not looking at the files sooner as he dropped into his pilot seat. It took him a few moments to set-up the safety of a decoy virtual machine. A requirement, unless he wanted his ship and all connected tech to get a virus.

Once he got the correct files loaded, it took him some times to scour the information. All the while, he cursed vibrantly to himself.

—

Three cycles passed, before Rayelle had any meaningful conversation with Tai'dqei. Though they did exchange pleasantries, they were empty. He did inform her they were heading to the nearest Temporal Authority Council office. However, due to the risk of being followed, Tai'dqei had chosen a more roundabout route than direct.

All said, the atmosphere on the ship was tense, like waiting for long-waited news. Rayelle didn't have the nerve to break it.

So it fell to Tai'dqei, who happened upon Rayelle after she'd eaten her mid-cycle meal in the mess. Quietly, he took a seat across the table, without announcement. As she tilted her eyes to him, he said softly, "I wish to speak to you about something."

Rayelle's stomach somersaulted under his words. She'd been waiting, of course, since she woke up in his room, on the couch after the movie, and scurried off to her bedroom. She'd even held onto the blanket he must have placed over her. It was a pelt, more than anything, but it had the faintest Tai'dqei scent on it.

Her gaze fell to the table, unable to meet his eyes as she thought of that stupid blanket. She picked at the smooth tabletop with a fingernail, pretending to scrape at a stain. "Does it have to do with what happened a few days ago?"

"It's connected, yes." Tai'dqei gave a partial nod, anxiousness making the simple movement stiff. That wording made Rayelle's eyebrows raise with curiosity. Not a solid yes, but related to the events? Hesitantly, she looked up to Tai'dqei, catching his rigid posture. When he spoke again, his voice was oddly gentle, though the gnarl in his tone was still there, "I don't want to upset you again, so if you're still distressed, we can talk about this at a later time."

While still apprehensive about the subject, Rayelle found herself wanting to know what Tai'dqei had to say. Sidestepping the issue of her comfort, she asked, "What is this about?"

"Your abductors. The second ones..." Tai'dqei amended, his eyebrow ridges furrowing. His clarification made Rayelle's lips twist into a small, ironic smile. The fact Tai'dqei continued to acknowledge his technical status as her third abductor amused her and put her at ease. His next words, however, did not. "They kept you sedated, correct?"

"I think so," Rayelle responded, fighting a sudden wave of nausea. Brief snatches of her time with the other aliens flew through her brain. Little moments, barely coherent. Being fed or washed. Introductions to others that came and went. The memories were mottled with dark blank spots though. "It's all muddled, though."

Tai'dqei nodded his head, his mandibles pulling tight to his maw. He already knew that and, even if he hadn't, it was in the medical records he found.

"I finally went through the files from the bounty's ship." Another rush of shame flooded Tai'dqei. He really should have looked at that information sooner, especially when Ah'ke had been around. HIding his self-blame, Tai'dqei busied himself by sending a translated copy of the records to Rayelle, via their wrist gauntlets. "They had you medically altered, which explains your sedation. I've consulted with Ah'ke and she's explained some of the things they put you through."

Rayelle just stared at Tai'dqei for a breath, her eyes wide and her features paling. When her wrist gauntlet pinged, her gaze slid to it. A growing urge to retch climbed up her throat, but she fought it down. She didn't move to open the communique. "What did they do to me?"

Another subject he wished Ah'ke was here for. She could explain this far better than him, but he tried. "As we've discussed, humans are compatible with other non-human races. Your aging reproductive system-"

"Excuse me?" Rayelle reeled back, as if struck by the words 'aging reproductive system.' A frown curved at her lips.

"Your reproductive system has been revitalized to the point of being like that of a human just beginning sexual maturity. Likely for anyone who wanted you for reproductive purposes." Tai'dqei held his hands up, to pause any of Rayelle's inclinations to lash out, as he rushed to clarify his wording. Rayelle relaxed, so Tai'dqei trudged forward to the point that concerned him the most. "The more prominent issues are your pheromones and hormones."

Rayelle leaned back in her chair, her lips twisted into an unamused grimace. "Let me guess. They supercharged them."

Silently, Tai'dqei nodded, a sobering air around him. "Your scent has been made extremely attractive to non-humans. Your own olfactory has been made more sensitive. All of this is affected by, or affects, your sexual drive."

Midway through his explanation, Rayelle groaned and pressed her face in her hands. Though she still listened. Already, a flush started to crawl across her cheeks. This would explain most of the issues surrounding Tai'dqei and herself, she supposed. The conflicting push-pull she felt when interacting with him, especially lately.

She had spent plenty of hours pondering his attraction to her. If his instincts simply hinged so strongly on her many attempts to escape him or if there was more to it. She couldn't imagine he found her physically appealing, considering how different yautja and humans were. Sure, she was soft and squishy and warm, but from an appearance standpoint?

That line of thought had led her down her own feelings concerning the alien, though. Did she find him attractive? That... was harder for Rayelle to answer than she cared to admit.

He wasn't bad to look at. Just different. A swarm of memories descended on her thoughts; the sensation of his body against hers, his touch, his warmth; the way he had slammed between herself and her pursuers at the spaceport; the consistent attempts, successful or not, to be courteous of her feelings.

Luckily, Tai'dqei saved Rayelle from her own thoughts as he continued, "Knowing this, I will take greater care in our interactions. For the time being, it may be best to keep contact to a minimum."

Her gaze darted to him, instantly disliking that idea. But part of her wouldn't allow her to explore the reasons for her distaste.

He sat ramrod straight in his chair, arms folded over his chest, eyes angled downward. In recent days, Rayelle had avoided him, but it was only to get her head on straight. At least she knew, on some level, she could approach him if she wanted to. Albeit, with a discussion about what had happened hanging over her head. But still.

"I don't want that." Rayelle's words came out soft, almost like a hesitant confession. It took all of Tai'dqei's self-restraint to not look at her, to not gauge her body language. Obviously, her alterations didn't help in this situation. Rayelle had been tampered with. Her mind, body, and feelings. Until they could know to what extent, any choice she made in terms of intimacy may later be regretted. He didn't want to make the situation any worse than it already was.

Besides, Ah'ke had warned him this might happen. Some humans bonded over intimacy. Some despised being told what to do. Still others would just cave to temptation. Overall, even if her feelings were genuine, had it not been for the medically boosted factors, she may have created an attachment unwillingly.

No, Tai'dqei doubted she felt anything for him, sexual or otherwise. Which sent a frustrating ache through his chest, but he clamped down on the feeling, locked it away. Even his own feelings on the matter weren't to be trusted.

"I won't force you to keep distant, but I might need to be more removed." He shifted, allowing himself to slump against the table, arms crossed on the tabletop. This talk had sent an uncomfortable heat through him, which the cool tabletop alleviated a little. Tai'dqei turned his gaze to Rayelle, voice steely with certainty. "For your sake."

Another cacophony of feelings slammed into Rayelle. Quietly, she stared back at Tai'dqei, suddenly aware of the great space the table settled between them.

Her hyped up hormones explained her own hot-cold reactions to Tai'dqei. Wanting to touch him and wanting to be touched by him clashing with the ever-present swirl of discontent and resentment for everything. She wasn't entirely sure it covered all of it, but it certainly didn't help matters.

Rayelle couldn't forget the other player: Tai'dqei.

Faintly, she wondered how different he was before her. Did he visit brothels on a regular basis? Or train and shower as much as he had? Did he have similar problems around Ah'ke? Or other people he found sexually alluring? That he wanted to mate with? Rayelle couldn't answer those questions.

One worry blossomed in her head. Had all it all been her fault? If she hadn't been altered, would Tai'dqei had shown any interest?

Beyond that, he'd done so much for her in a short amount of time. Even in spite of her less-than-delightful moments. After he let her use his own space for comfort, Rayelle had begun to believe Tai'dqei genuinely liked her, beyond being something of sexual value.

Maybe, on his end of all this, he was simply influenced by his instincts, reacting to her initial violence coupled with manipulative hormones. Which meant her response to him may just be chalked up to medical interference, as well. A dangerous loop, just repeating itself with two unwilling players.

That wasn't fair to either of them.

In her lap, her hands balled into fists as a heaviness settled in her chest. "Maybe staying away from each other is a good idea."

Tai'dqei couldn't say it was the answer he wanted to hear from her. A small part of him had hoped she'd assuage his concerns, declare she wasn't so easily swayed by carnal chemicals. But that was folly on his part. Of course, she'd choose the distance. It was the safest option and kept mistakes from happening. Like what happened in the cockpit.

"It will take a little less than a cycle to get to the temporal authority quadrant headquarters," Tai'dqei forced himself to say, pushing back from the table. His limbs felt heavy as he stood, as if his very body didn't want to move away from Rayelle. "Let me know if you need anything."

And that was it.

Casting her gaze into her lap, where her hands had settled, she fought a new slew of emotions. Something heavy settled in Rayelle's stomach. It felt a little chillier, all of a sudden. She listened to Tai'dqei shift, to the chair being shoved back in place, and finally to his dwindling footfalls as he turned and left her behind.

---

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Kid Eternity #3

In this issue, Kid Eternity fucks a Rastafarian hippo.

This comic book, more than any other comic book, taught me that I don't have to keep buying every issue of a comic book just because it's under the Vertigo imprint. This comic book took me by the hand, led me out of the misty forest of Vertigo's obfuscating nonsense, pushed me out into the bright clarity of presumed reality and said, "Stop coming around here to get your butthole molested, you skanky little perv." After blinking the sunlight out of my eyes for a bit, I gasped and thought, "Sometimes art is art with tits and sometimes art is just tits distracting from nonsense. And it's up to me and G.I. Joe to tell the difference." This is where I'd post an image of tits to distract you from my nonsense but this isn't a porn site, you skanky little perv. This issue begins, like all Ann Nocenti issues, with me shaking my head and contemplating self-harm. Also tits and nonsense. So much nonsense. Like more nonsense than a shaking stick could shake another stick at. Usually I appreciate comic books with dense dialogue and a thick, rich story. But the first page has a dialogue between two of the Pope's demon children that's 160 words long. I'm not sure Ann Nocenti completely understands how comic books work. The second page's dialogue contains 199 words (and five tits). I have a new theory about Ann Nocenti's writing: she was paid by the word and the only way to keep the editor from cutting down her word count was to make the dialogue incomprehensible so the editor didn't know which words to cut. I'm not counting the amount of words on the third page but I'm pretty sure it's even more than page two. Page three sort of introduces two new characters (as if this comic book needs any more subplots). I think they're brothers but all we, as readers, are allowed to see are hands and books. One book is The Book of Sin in which the brothers invoke temptation against Kid Eternity. This sends the Pope's devil children to ruin his plans with their vaginas. The other book is The Book of Reflection in which Kid Eternity's own narcissism is used against him. I guess nobody wants the modern Buddha Christ Child to be born? But aren't they all wasting their time? Didn't we discover the magical child was fished out of a garbage can in the dirty alley where the homeless guys constantly discuss the value of women?

This newscast, awash in speculation and false premises, is still more informative than the talking head opinion pieces and non-expert debates that form the bulk of most 24 hour news stations. And look at all those words! This was just two-thirds of one page!

Meanwhile, the FBI agents are still lying around in bed. How they ended up in bed after being shot by Ares' hate arrows isn't information that was deemed necessary for the readers to understand the story. Which is fine because I think Nocenti just wrote them out of the comic book in a scene where the Fates are stitching a quilt and one is all, "What are we doing with these two?" and another one is all, "Forget them! They're lost to entropy! We have so many more stories to knit!" And she's write because I don't think I could even remember all of the character and story arcs from just the first two issues! Let's make a list! 1. The homeless guys philosophizing in the alley. 2. Kid Eternity and his search for the Christ Buddha. 3. Madame Blavatsky's search for snacks and causing time to rewind. 4. The FBI agents looking to help Kid Eternity but somehow winding up in bed not fucking. 5. Hemlock the feminist who could be the Christ Buddha's mother but has become the mother of a computer virus. 6. Dog the gross dude who wants to fuck Hemlock. 7. Keep, Kid Eternity's keeper, who probably isn't exactly into helping Kid Eternity. 8. Beelzebub deciding to go to Earth to be more like Lucifer. 9. Judas, just hanging out with Beelzebub. 10. Jesus getting drunk in a bar. 11. The Malocchio, or Pope's demon children, trying to stop the birth of the Christ Buddha. 12. The Christ Buddha who was found in a trash can but then taken away by some woman who might have been its mother. 13. Cupid, summoned by Kid Eternity to make the FBI agents do it but who arrived late because he was in a coma and shot them with hate arrows anyway so he just decided to get drunk with the homeless guys. 14. Zeus and the other Greek Gods who woke back up when Cupid was summoned. 15. The Catholic church who seem to be Kid Eternity's main atagonist. 16. Freud and Jung, brought in to show how much Ann Nocenti knows about the founders of psychology. That's all I can remember! I'm sure I've forgotten some story bits and characters. This issue wasted no time introducing even more! Now we have the brothers reading metaphysical books, the Fates, and a transgender sex worker.

Is the point that they won't date women because they're afraid to talk to them? I just thought women didn't want to date them because they're filthy itinerants with no ambition.

Oh! It turns out the "brothers" reading the books about all the other characters are Jesus and Beelzebub! Thank goodness I don't have to remember any new characters! Hopefully the transgender sex worker turns out to be Madame Blavatsky. Double oh! I just realized the transgender sex worker is one of the Malocchio! Whew! I think I'm shaking off the Ann Nocenti Dome of Confusion! I'm beginning to follow and understand her plot! I mean, really, it's not so hard. Kid Eternity wants to inspire mankind and thinks a new Buddha Christ child is the way to do it. Everybody else wants to stop him because mankind sucks ass. Now add a bunch more words and about thirty random Wikipedia entries to my summation and you'll get Nocenti's version of the plot.

This is a great example of Nocenti's profound nonsense. Sorry but the tits were in the previous panel on the previous page.

I'm worried that I'm going to completely burn out on reading old comics because after this excruciating three issue run of Kid Eternity, I've got about six issues of Grant Morrison's The Invisibles. Not that I'm comparing the quality of the two comic books! It's just that I don't understand this comic book but that in no way makes me feel stupid. But when I don't understand The Invisibles, I'm going to feel like a huge idiot. This issue, which is the final issue in my head canon, ends with Fetish, the Malocchio transgender sex worker, fucking Kid Eternity until he falls in love with her and then leaving him. His heart is broken and now he's ready to be fucked by the other Malocchio. Plus Jesus and Beelzebub are playing some kind of game with Kid Eternity and a mad girl named Christabel who can draw reality. So that's another character and piece of the plot that I never would have kept straight if I'd kept reading this comic book. Kid Eternity #3 Rating: C-. It's really fucking falling apart at this point. Yes, the basic premise is pretty easy to understand. But it's tiresome trying to keep it all straight when every single one of Nocenti's characters speaks in never ending analogies. So if love is like sailing, you don't just get, "Bright skies and still seas until the storm clouds gather and toss the ship." No, you get "Love is sailing in bright skies on a calm sea with freshly waxed decks and clean billowing sails, a pleasant breeze that stopped over in Manhattan to waft the fresh smell of baking garlic and Margherita pizza into your upraised nostrils as you watch two seagulls playfully dance in the sky until the next instant stormy seas, black skies, flailing ropes, ripped sails, riggings down, the decks awash, and death is licking the back of your neck." That whole last part where the stormy seas start is actually a direct quote. I embellished the first half!

#Kid Eternity #Ann Nocenti #Sean Phillips #Vertigo #DC Comics #DC

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orthodoxydaily · 3 years

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Saints&Reading: Mon., Mar. 7 2022

March 7_February 22

THE MONK BARADATES THE SYRIAN (5th.c)

Saint Baradates the Syrian began to live as a desert-dweller in a hut near Antioch. He then built a stone cell upon a hill, so cramped and low that the ascetic could stand in it only in a stooped position. It had neither window nor door, and the wind, rain and cold came in through the cracks, and in summer he was not protected from the heat.

After many years Patriarch Theodoretos of Alexandria urged the monk to leave the cramped hut. Then the saint withdrew into a new seclusion: covered in leather from head to foot with a small opening for his nose and mouth, he prayed standing with hands upraised to heaven. The grace of God strengthened him in his works and purified his heart from passions. People began to flock to him for spiritual counsel, and Saint Baradates with deep humility guided them. Having acquired many spiritual gifts, Saint Baradates departed to the Lord in peace in 460.

THE MONK ATHANASIAS THE CONFESSOR OF CONSTANTINOPLE (826)

Saint Athanasius the Confessor was born in Constantinople of rich and pious parents. From his childhood he dreamed of devoting himself entirely to God, and having reached maturity, he settled in one of the Nicomedia monasteries, called the Pavlopetrios (i.e., in the names of the holy Apostles Peter and Paul), and became a monk there.

The loftiness of his ascetic life became known at the imperial court. During the reign of the iconoclast emperor Leo the Armenian (813-820), Saint Athanasius was subjected to torture for venerating icons, and then underwent exile, grief and suffering. Confessing the Orthodox Faith until the very end of his life, Saint Athanasius died peacefully in the year 821.

PROVERBS 1:1-20

1 The proverbs of Solomon the son of David, king of Israel: 2 To know wisdom and instruction, To perceive the words of understanding, 3 To receive the instruction of wisdom, Justice, judgment, and equity;4 To give prudence to the simple, To the young man knowledge and discretion— 5 A wise man will hear and increase learning, And a man of understanding will attain wise counsel, 6 To understand a proverb and an enigma, The words of the wise and their riddles. 7 The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, But fools despise wisdom and instruction. 8 My son, hear the instruction of your father, 9 For they will be a graceful ornament on your head, And chains about your neck. 10 My son, if sinners entice you, Do not consent. 11 If they say, “Come with us, Let us lie in wait to shed blood; Let us lurk secretly for the innocent without cause; 12 Let us swallow them alive like Sheol, And whole, like those who go down to the Pit; 13 We shall find all kinds of precious possessions, We shall fill our houses with spoil; 14 Cast in your lot among us, Let us all have one purse”— 15 My son, do not walk in the way with them, Keep your foot from their path; 16 For their feet run to evil, And they make haste to shed blood. 17 Surely, in vain the net is spread In the sight of any bird; 18 But they lie in wait for their own blood, They lurk secretly for their own lives. 19 So are the ways of everyone who is greedy for gain; It takes away the life of its owners. 20 Wisdom calls aloud outside; She raises her voice in the open squares.

ISAIAH 1:1-20

1 The vision of Isaiah the son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah.2 Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth! For the Lord has spoken: “I have nourished and brought up children, And they have rebelled against Me; 3 The ox knows its owner And the donkey its master’s crib; But Israel does not know, My people do not consider.” 4 Alas, sinful nation, A people laden with iniquity, A brood of evildoers, Children who are corrupters! They have forsaken the Lord, They have provoked to anger The Holy One of Israel, They have turned away backward. 5 Why should you be stricken again? You will revolt more and more. The whole head is sick, And the whole heart faints. 6 From the sole of the foot even to the head, There is no soundness in it, But wounds and bruises and putrefying sores; They have not been closed or bound up, Or soothed with ointment. 7 Your country is desolate, Your cities are burned with fire; Strangers devour your land in your presence; And it is desolate, as overthrown by strangers. 8 So the daughter of Zion is left as a booth in a vineyard, As a hut in a garden of cucumbers, As a besieged city. 9 Unless the Lord of hosts Had left to us a very small remnant, We would have become like Sodom, We would have been made like Gomorrah. 10 Hear the word of the Lord, You rulers of Sodom; Give ear to the law of our God, You people of Gomorrah: 11 “To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices to Me?” Says the Lord. “I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams And the fat of fed cattle. I do not delight in the blood of bulls, Or of lambs or goats. 12 “When you come to appear before Me, Who has required this from your hand, To trample My courts? 13 Bring no more futile sacrifices; Incense is an abomination to Me. The New Moons, the Sabbaths, and the calling of assemblies— I cannot endure iniquity and the sacred meeting. 14 Your New Moons and your appointed feasts My soul hates; They are a trouble to Me, I am weary of bearing them. 15 When you spread out your hands, I will hide My eyes from you; Even though you make many prayers, I will not hear. Your hands are full of blood. 16 “Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean; Put away the evil of your doings from before My eyes. Cease to do evil, 17 Learn to do good; Seek justice, Rebuke the oppressor; Defend the fatherless, Plead for the widow. 18 “Come now, and let us reason together,” Says the Lord, “Though your sins are like scarlet, They shall be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They shall be as wool. 19 If you are willing and obedient, You shall eat the good of the land; 20But if you refuse and rebel, You shall be devoured by the sword”; For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #originofchristianity #easternrite #spirituality #holyscriptures #gospel #bible #wisdom

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sarah-bae-maas · 7 years

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A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Twenty Four

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

***

-Chapter 24-

One map.

Two soldiers.

Three mistakes.

The first mistake, carelessly leaving their squadron to have a romantic rendezvous in a volatile area. The second, discarding their bags full of sensitive information the way they discarded their clothes. The last, trying to scream as it ran its claws over their tender necks, making their deaths all the more painful.

These Illyrians were so soft, so pudgy. You touched them, and their flesh would just concave in.

Spread out before it, its lovely creatures, crafted from the darkness in corners and fallen stars from the night, guarding it faithfully, was a map of the expanse of Prythian, a name it struggled to hiss with its inhuman tongue.

With its books and maps now in its possession, it had learned a great deal. It had learnt their worst fears thanks to a leather-bound book with illustrations that would garner fear even from its home realm. It had discovered, and abused, their most scared spaces. It had used spells previously only possible with world-creating relics. Most importantly though, it had learnt their language.

It had learnt that they would refer to it as a Queen, maybe a Princess, maybe an Heir, maybe a Ruler.

In their world, it was a she.

And they should fear her a great deal.

For when she started all those months ago, slaughtering that troupe of rowdy Illyrians, she was as far from her most sought after need as the moon was from the sea, and now, and now, she was as close as a willow tree to a creek.

And she was ready to get her body.

____

Eleana was practically skipping as she ran to Felix’s. She knew Thea was going to be there, and honestly? She was in the mood to snuggle with a baby.

Even after her romantic day with Kaden had been completely and utterly spoiled, the night hadn’t ended as badly as it could have. Right now, her mother was working on something to do with the share-houses, and Eleana had it on good authority that her father was likely going to come see them again today, so Eleana wanted to take this time to, yes, cuddle with a cute baby, but to also debrief Felix on everything that had happened.

She walked right in the door and squealed when she saw Thea in her eldest cousin’s arms, and without acknowledging anyone else in the room, swept her away from him and clutched Thea to her chest.

“Hello,” she cooed.

Felix snorted from where he was standing and crossed him arms. “I’m going to assume you weren’t talking to me.”

“Or me,” Cassian scoffed.

Eleana simply smiled at them and turned her attention to Quathryn, who had been holding tight onto the Felix’s pants, leaning her head against him. Quathryn must be very tired with the new baby around, and you could see it in her heavy eyes and the way she swayed against her brother.

“Hello to you, too, Quathryn. I’m so happy to see you.”

Quathryn gave her a smile in return, and upraised her arms so that Felix would pick her up.

“She’s exhausted,” Cassian sighed. Her uncle approached Eleana and ruffled her hair affectionately, and peered over her shoulder at all three of his children. “We all are. The girls and I came to visit so that Nesta could sleep without being interrupted, and the little ones were desperate for some time with their big brother. Quite the set of lungs on this one.”

Cassian did look weary, and Felix noticed too. “Why don’t you rest, Father? I’ll take care of the girls.”

Cassian shook his head. “I have to watch them. I love you two dearly, but taking care of a newborn babe and toddler isn’t fun or easy.”

“We’ll stay here,” Eleana said as she started running her fingers through Thea’s spikey hair. How do baby’s hairs just stand on end like that?

Before Cassian could say any more, Felix prodded him in the shoulder towards one of the bedrooms. Quathryn, forever mimicking her beloved brother, reached out and did the same.

“It’s nap time for Papa, isn’t it Quathryn?”

“Yes!” she squeaked.

“No,” Cassian yawned. “I have business to conduct while I’m here, none of which I can do if I’m sleeping.”

“I’ll do it for you, or send Kaden too. The bastard would be happy to help.” Felix was offering anything he could to possibly help him.

Cassian hesitated. “Kaden is actually the only thing I need to take care of.” Cassian looked Eleana dead in the eyes. “Rhys came to see me yesterday, and a decision was made.”

Eleana reeled internally, but she only let a small amount of shock register on her face. “What decision?”

“Call him here and you’ll see.”

____

Kaden was there in a literal minute. The moment Eleana said she needed him, he stopped what he was doing and came to her right away. With Kaden completely unaware of it, she had been using their bond a lot more lately. He chalked it up to her being a daemati, but really she was just speaking to him through the invisible tether that joined them.

Kaden stormed through the door, and upon realising that nothing was wrong and she just wanted him with her, he greeted her with a kiss to the cheek.

In front of Cassian.

Because that was something they could do now. No more hiding, it was all out in the open.

“Hey.” Kaden turned from her and also greeted Felix and Quathryn, the latter also receiving a kiss to the cheek.

“Where’s mine?” Felix joked as Kaden turned to also say hello to Cassian.

“You don’t deserve a kiss.” Kaden winked at him and returned to Eleana’s side, his hand casually sliding around her waist.

Eleana saw Felix and Cassian share a sly look at the sight, and she let it go. Let them think it was funny, she had her mate’s hand around her waist in front of everyone, not that Felix really counted, but she was still beyond happy about it.

“There’s actually a reason you’re here.” Felix said. Quathryn has her head rested against his shoulder, and her eyes had finally closed, small snores emitting from her.

“Why?”

“Because of this.” Cassian reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out an envelope as he came towards Kaden. He held it out, and As Kaden took it he scooped Thea up and tucked her into his arm. Thea was so small it was possible to hold her in the crevice of your arm. That is, if you had arms as muscly as the Illyrian males in Eleana’s family did.

Kaden looked at the envelope curiously, and tore the top open so he could pull out a letter.

There were two letters in the envelope, one small and one large. Eleana watched as he read the small one first, a restrained smile on his face as he did. When he read the second one, he froze, and looked at Cassian in disbelief.

“This – this can’t be real,” he stuttered.

“It is.” Cassian was smirking.

Eleana peered at Kaden, Felix equally as curious. “So?” Felix questioned. “What is it?”

Kaden handed the first letter to Eleana, who sprung to Felix’s side so they could read it together.

“This is an invitation to Velaris – for tonight. Everyone will be there, even Elain and Lucien!” Eleana gasped.

Felix just beamed brightly, not wanting to do anything more lest he wake his sister.

“There’s more.” Kaden handed her the other letter.

As Eleana read, tears of joy lined her eyes, and a small whine left her lips as she collided into Kaden’s awaiting arms, hers going around his neck as she clutched him to her.

“It’s immediate the moment you have your tattoos, should you wish to accept.” Cassian explained. “You will live in Velaris and train with the High Lord and I, Azriel occasionally. Within the decade, you will be promoted and likely given a team similar to the Elite, or alternatively, you will work across the different continents as a diplomat or spy. Velaris will always be your main location, and after some time, if you prove yourself worthy, you would become an official member of the Inner Circle.”

Kaden laughed into her neck as he embraced her back, his chest rumbling and warming her to her core. “I don’t know what you said to your parents after I left last night, because I certainly didn’t give that good an impression.”

She pulled back and slapped his chest playfully. “Yes you did.” She hugged him again, and over his shoulder looked at Felix. Felix looked… anything but thrilled.

____

Eleana stood next to the birdbath in her garden in Velaris, surrounded by roses as she waited for Kaden to come. She was wearing the same outfit she had at the bonfire the first time they’d spent real time at the camp together, and she thought it fitting that she got out one of her favourite outfits again for the first time they spent a night out in Velaris. Over the summer, her skin had darkened even more, making the white of her off the shoulder crop and flowing pants accentuate her bronze features.

She was waiting for him here because he desperately needed to tell her something. He was meant to the day previous, before she’d distracted him with tales of love and inappropriate acts, and this morning he had whispered to her that it was imperative she and Felix knew, but he couldn’t tell her with the General around. She was horribly curious as to what it was, and she hoped he wouldn’t take much longer to come to her.

He was currently rummaging through the closet Mor and Azriel had supplied to him, trying to guess what a casual-formal outfit was meant to look like in a city he had been to but never had the change to explore.

So she let herself be consumed by the smell of flowers and the noises of her parents bustling around inside. She was so enthralled by the vibrant colours that she missed so much that she nearly didn’t notice when Kaden crept up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. But she did, she always did.

“My Dark Rose,” he purred into her ear.

“You’re happy today,” she noted with a smile. She turned so she could cup his face with her hands, and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I’m very excited about tonight. I also may or may not be overcompensating because I know as soon as I tell you my news you’ll likely start spewing darkness everywhere.”

She rolled her eyes at him and pecked his cheek again. “Have it out then. What could possibly make me that mad?”

Kaden scanned the garden, taking in everything around him: the stone paths, the flowers in full bloom, the balconies in the distance, the trees lining the edge of their land. It was clear he was making sure they wouldn’t be overheard.

“It’s about the creatures.”

Eleana blanched. “What about them?”

“The investigation into them has stopped. Azriel told me yesterday, and I knew it was imperative you also knew. I haven’t told Felix yet, but we should.”

Kaden was correct when he assumed her anger would be significant enough for her darkness to start crawling its way out of her. “Why?” she breathed.

“They think that – that we were reaching in what we presented to them. That there are far more logical explanations and that it wasn’t worth looking into further because they just don’t think there’s anything there.”

“But what about the Impeath? The Colloden? The Mountain?”

“The Colloden they think was something else, and that we just made that connection because of the book. As for the Impeath, they think that whatever attacked Felix that night jumbled you both enough that you’re now an unreliable witness. And the Mountain? They went, and there was nothing. Not a trace of all the things we’ve witnessed there.”

She sighed through her nose. “We told them everything because we weren’t experienced enough to handle it on our own. Felix, maybe, but even he would need a team beyond what the Elite could do. He would need Az, or my father. For fuck’s sake.”

Kaden held her close to him and hid his face in the crook of her neck. “We’ll work this out.”

“But how many people will die in the meantime?”

He ran a hand down her back. “I’ll fill Felix in and meet you tonight for my formal introductions.”

“You need to talk to him about Velaris too.” Eleana hadn’t missed the look of desolation on Felix’s face at the mention of his best friend leaving him.

“I know.” Kaden had noticed as well then. “I don’t know what to do. Leaving is playing into his fears of abandonment, but I have to do this. I know we’ll come to a solution. I wish it was as simple as doing what’s best for me, which is training with the General and High Lord, but I also need him, and you.” He groaned deeply. “Why can’t everything be simple?”

“I’ll see you tonight, and we’ll sort it out after my family inevitably falls in love with you.”

_____

Dusk had been and gone when everyone gathered in the front yard of the townhouse to walk to the restaurant together. Feyre and Rhys were talking to Lucien, who was holding baby Thea, and Mor and Azriel were standing with Nesta and Cassian, the two brothers with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Eleana was standing with Felix, fresh out of his conversation with Kaden, a bristling air following the two eldest children. Quathryn was in the arms of her brother, tugging at his hair and telling him how he needed to get it cut.

As for Kaden, he was standing back after having gone into the house to get a drink, observing the tight-knit family that he was supposed to slot into. They were all so harmonious with each other – well, for the most part. Neither Eleana or Felix had yet to start speaking to Azriel again, which he might need to have a word to them about. He understood where they were coming from, why they would be mad that Azriel had not told him of their relation, but it had gone too far at this point. They cared far too much about him.

“Some might say it’s impolite to stare like that.”

Kaden nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Elain’s voice behind him, and as he turned to look at her he put a hand over his now thundering heart. “I wasn’t staring,” he defended.

“I feel like we got off to a rough start,” Elain said.

Kaden could see Mor prick up at the sight of them talking, but his pseudo-mother didn’t make a start to interrupt them. Instead, her keen eyes observed them.

Kaden glanced at Elain, her smile soft. She had a long flowing lilac gown with embroider flowers covering the bodice on, and her hair was braided with actual poppies intertwined with it. She looked far less frightening than on the only other day he’d ever seen her, but he still had his reservations. As did Felix, it seemed, as he had now joined his aunt in dutifully watching the pair.

“Do not worry, Lady Elain, what’s in the past can stay there.” He took a step away from her, to go to Felix who was very subtlety gesturing for him to come over, but Elain put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Sometimes, the power and the worry I have for my family consumes me. Without Lucien or Azriel there to reign it in, I can lose control – just like any fae who has too much of one sort of magic. I sincerely apologize for leaving you in the state I did, and for not making sure later that you were taken care of, especially after what you did for my family.”

Kaden gulped at her words. “How many people know what I did?”

“Only the people you’ve informed. They’ll all find out soon enough though.”

“How do you know?”

She tapped a finger to her temple and then walked away, her smile, although still kind, now uptilted like she had a precious secret only she knew.

Left dazed by the short interaction, Kaden went to join Felix, Eleana and Quathryn, quickly explaining what Elain had said to him. They were both as baffled as he, but didn’t let it quash their excitement as the family started walking towards the restaurant. They were going to one of Mor’s favourites, she demanded it saying that she deserved to take her son wherever she damn well liked his first night in the city. She looked slightly taken aback after she’d said it, not intending to use the words my son, and after she’d slipped up and looked to him to apologize, she just saw a happily blushing boy who didn’t know quite how to react to her unconditional love.

Kaden and Eleana started to dawdle behind the others, Eleana constantly stopping him to point something out. The first thing she needed him to see was the clear waters of the Sidra, and how the lights from the buildings behind them made it a lightshow. After that, it was a bridge where she had first started experimenting with her darkness, and she’d carved her name and Felix’s into the stone behind a lamppost. She’d told him about how she’d gotten in huge trouble for vandalism, but the next day Feyre had brought her back with special paints so they could decorate the area around it. Eleana’s whole body shone with happiness when they walked past the rainbow and she’d shown him her favourite alleyway, called Le Clara Avenue. It was lined with tiny little shops, all selling different decorative desserts. The shops themselves were so small that the only place to sit was on the tables and chairs scattered throughout the street, usually placed under the name signs hanging between the two huge buildings that made the alleyway. The last thing she was able to show him on their way there was her favourite bookstore. The shelves spanned every wall all the way to the top of the high ceilings, and the floor was a maze of more shelves. They were all a rich, dark timber and the carpet was a pristine, white marble with rugs of various colours scattered throughout. There were books from every land, from every genre, and Eleana could easily get lost in there for hours on end. It wasn’t unusual for the store clerks to find her cross-legged on the floor tucked into a corner somewhere – that was, when she was in Velaris.

Kaden had to drag her away from there, but with promises that they would return soon.

When they finally made it to the restaurant, Kaden was drunk off of the colourful streets and smell of spices in the air. He wasn’t able to sit next to Eleana, but on his right was Felix and his left Morrigan. Directly across from him was the High Lord, and then Eleana next to him.

“Thank you for the invitation, High Lord. It’s truly an honour.” Kaden inclined his head towards Eleana’s father.

“My pleasure,” he replied.

Eleana glowered at her father playfully. “You can call him Rhys,” she said to Kaden.

“No, he cannot.”

“Yes you can,” Feyre butted in with a smirk.

They continued their banter, but Kaden was more focused on the music he could hear outside. The sliding glass doors to the restaurant made up the whole front of the building they were in, and they were all open, letting in the air and music. Kaden couldn’t see them, but there were fae out there somewhere playing an array of fiddles and violins, and he could hear the light scuffle of feet as fae danced around them. He listened to this music all through the meal, all through the official introductions to High Lord Lucien and Lady Elain, even when Eleana sneakily snaked her foot a bit too high up his leg to tease him.

He’d never heard music like that – never heard people being so carelessly free and felt as though he could join in. It was transfixing.

The food had been lovely, and he’d had to refrain from moaning at every bite. He’d had gorgeously tender lamb with an array of herbs and sauces he’d never had before, and he’d accompanied it with Felix’s favourite wine.

Between the food, the music, and the pulse of happiness he could feel from Eleana, it had been a good night so far.

With all their bellies full, they decided to linger just a bit to take in the atmosphere. Kaden’s mind kept going to that music though, to the fae that were still dancing.

Eleana noticed, and reached across the table to take his hand. “Kaden?” she murmured.

“Yes, my love?”

She bit her lip at the words my love, then squeezed his hand. “Will you dance with me?”

He breathed a heavy, relieved sigh. “Always.”

They both got up without explanation, the High Lord reaching to stop his daughter from leaving, but she slipped through his grip. Instead, she walked around the table and linked her elbow with Kaden’s, and they left to find the source of the music.

It didn’t take long. There was a makeshift stage made from merchant boxes set up, and a wide circle surrounding it for couples to dance. There were little candles dangling on strings overhead, the ropes they were attached to hanging on to all the buildings around them, no matter how far and few between. Past that, there were plenty of onlookers, all clapping and swaying to the instruments.

Eleana stopped at the sight of so many, but Kaden dragged her forward until they were in the centre of dancers. He put one of her hands on his shoulder and then held the other one out next to them, his own arm snaking around her waist.

“Are you ready?”

She closed her eyes. “With you? Yes.”

They started slow, he let her get her footing and then they were off. He twirled her, and dipped her, and had her laughing so hard that she didn’t even notice when she stepped on his toes (which was often but he didn’t mind). At one point, he lifted her up around the waist, spinning her with her head thrown back in pure, unadulterated joy.

_____

Rhys had never been so shook in his life.

He remembered once, months ago, when Eleana had come to the townhouse to show him a dance she had learnt. She wasn’t very great at it, but at least that time she hadn’t broken anything, and he had been so, so proud of her.

And now, he was looking at her actually dancing with someone, and he had to refrain from crying. He remembered all those times as a child when she’d sobbed because she couldn’t dance like the other fae, every time he’d had to heal her or someone else because her flailing was downright dangerous. He blindly grabbed for the arms of his mate, and when he finally got her attention she was just as shocked as him.

“I don’t think it dawned on me until now that they’re mates,” Feyre said quietly.

Rhys wasn’t even ashamed to say, in reality he was exuberant, “They’re perfect, Feyre. She’s – our little girl is going to be so happy with him.”

Feyre clutched onto his side as they watched Kaden and Eleana dance with the other fae as complete equals.

The song finished, and an exhilarated Kaden and Eleana made their way back to the family.

“Don’t you go anywhere, young man.” Mor stepped forward and held out a hand to Kaden. “I want a dance too. I’ve never met anyone as good as me, so let’s put you to the test.”

Kaden smirked competitively, and left Eleana with a kiss to the cheek to dance with Mor.

Kaden was put to the test alright, and he scored perfectly.

He had been holding back with Rhys’ daughter, and watching him dance to his full skill was like watching a storm cloud build a hurricane – effortless yet with the upmost power and control.

The other fae who were dancing stopped, and all joined the crowd of onlookers to watch Kaden and Mor. They were both clearly trying to one up the other, and it made for a fantastic spectacle. Rhys idly wondered where Kaden had learnt to do that if his past was as horrible as Eleana claimed, but didn’t dwell on it. They were all allowed to have their moments of light in the darkness, and this seemed to be Kaden’s. And the fact that he was now able to share his love and gift of dancing with his daughter… Rhys would love him, just for that.

The audience clapped as the dance came to an end, both Mor and Kaden breathing deeply with a fine layer of sweat on their brows.

Although the music continued, the Inner Circle steered their children back home. They all walked along, and Rhys was listening to Eleana as she pointed out every little thing she thought Kaden would like. He risked a glance over at them, but definitely didn’t again when he saw Kaden sweep her into his arms to kiss her. He liked the boy, but he sure as hell didn’t want to see that.

At one point, about halfway back to the townhouse, he and Cassian stood next to each other and watched Kaden and Felix mucking around, pushing each other and jumping over the other’s head, racing around and laughing loudly.

“It’s strange,” Cassian commented, “how the past has a habit of repeating itself.” He was referring to the two young men who resembled themselves so much, and Rhys was inclined to agree.

As they walked up the familiar steps to the townhouse, their family started to bid their farewells. Kaden left first with Azriel and Mor, and Rhys was unsure whether it was going to be Eleana or the boy who ineluctably snuck out to see the other. Then it was Felix, who took Quathryn and Thea with him so Cassian and Nesta could linger and gossip. Lucien and Elain were going to stay in the House of Wind, but as they tried to winnow away a sudden leash was put on them – and not just them, but everyone left.

Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Elain, Lucien – they all turned as one to where Eleana stood on the threshold, her expression dark and her magic keeping them in place.

“The sitting room. Now. There’s things you need to know.” She turned, and they were all compelled to follow her. Not even Rhys could break the spell she had woven around them, and was forced, like his family, into his home.

They all sat on stiff dining chairs that were barely used, Eleana at the head of the table. “I’m sorry for doing it like this,” she said, “but I can’t have you running off without me showing you this.” Her voice turned anguished, and Rhys looked at her wide-eyed.

“Laya?” He reached out to hold one of her hands, but she crossed them under the table before he could.

“They are things you need to know about Kaden before you make any final judgements on him, not that your opinion could change my mind.” She looked them all over then.

Nesta and Cassian, both looking slightly irritated about not knowing what was going on. Feyre and Lucien, scared about the girl before them, and Elain, who didn’t seem fazed at all. Perhaps she knew this was coming.

Without another word, Eleana tapped on all their minds, wanting them to loosen their shields and invite her in. It was politeness more than anything, his Butterfly was powerful enough to force her way in if she wanted.

They all acquiesced, and then it was not through their eyes they were seeing, but through hers.

____

Dark room.

Candle in the corner.

Brute of a man keeping the child down with his foot to the centre of her back as he pulled violently on one of her wings. Her mouth full of gravel, and her screams so colossal her throat had started to bleed, the metallic taste filling her lungs alongside the dirt that had been shoved down her with a maniacal laugh.

A puddle around her. Vomit. Blood. Piss. Not all her own.

This is the Room. This is her nightmare.

Another day.

The dark the same – swallowing, insistent, terrorizing. Nothing good happens in this Room.

Her gums infected. Her hands trying to push away the pliers that a man is shoving in her mouth to rip out her teeth.

For her good, he claimed.

It was not for her good.

Another day, or maybe night, and she was deathly tired. Her very bones ache like the unoiled tires of a cart, and she wanted to sleep. Is contented to on the cold floor. She is small. She has no choice.

A laugh. A noose. A quashed yell as the air is scraping through her lungs as she loses her breath.

A day.

Different. Not the Room, but a house. A familiar, sneering male leading her and her love into a room full of cocky men with egos that could fuel a war. It doesn’t matter. The golden boy is at her side, and she loves him. She loves him she loves him she loves him. Her mate. Her golden mate, with a heart full of sorrow that she was slowly replacing with felicity.

A tour. Of the house. From a brother.

Bottom to top, is that what he said?

Stairs going down. A basement.

A room. The Room. Never a nightmare, but a memory – a glance through the eyes of a male she hadn’t met yet. A bond so strong it didn’t matter.

A growl. A scampering host. An ashamed Kaden. He had never wanted her to see this.

In response, a kiss. The second of many to come. A good thing in a foul place. A Room neither of them would ever return to.

A cave.

Nails missing. Wounds a plenty. Skin bare and cold. Hair savagely cut.

She looks up at the creature holding her captive, and is unsurprised to see that there is nothing there. She can’t see it. She will die here.

Her back, her body, is held up by fragile wings that are in tatters and shreds. Tendons in muscles, her own, straining through her body like they might very might rip out through her back and she might slide to the floor. Only flesh and bone with a detached soul, forever meant to blindly wonder through this cave.

A sigh. A loss of breath. Did she have a name? Surely she did once, but she can no longer remember it, that is, that is, until it is muttered in front of her.

Eleana?

A hand around her to hold her up, another on her face. Her name from his lips, a plea. She tries to open her eyes, she can’t, but she tries, for him. She’ll remember her name for him.

The promise of a dance gets her attention. A dance at a wedding.

Warmth, beautiful heat in this icy place as he heals her ever so slightly.

She mumbles his name. He kisses the tip of her nose. She tells him to run.

It’s here and its claws are in her mate.

It doesn’t matter. With a loud thud, its head rolls.

Her golden mate hacks at the chains holding her up, and she is free. She is in his arms, and she is in excruciating pain.

She will never fly again.

Starfall.

Broken body chains from gloriously wondering hands, interrupted by the creature they all thought dead.

A tornado of fire and ash. A golden mat who is the only one that can see it. With her help, he kills it, slowly.

Relief. It was over. It would no longer hunt her.

Surprise. She’d thought it dead.

Collapsed happily in the arms of her golden mate.

Fury, as he told her that her family knew the creature as alive.

She flees.

The night of a birth.

Her golden mate anchoring himself through their bond without his knowledge. He’s using every ounce of strength he has to put the soul he found trying to go to the Other Side back into the infant body in a room full of desolation and confusion.

He struggles. He collapses. He is looking through the eyes of the woman he loves – not that he’s told her he loves her.

Through her, he guides the soul back into its body

And then

A cry

And she’s alive.

_____

Rhys’ hands were uncontrollably shaking as he was freed from Eleana’s memories, his head laying on the table in front of him. He had drooled slightly onto the blue table cloth, and dazedly wiped his mouth.

Next to him, Feyre was crying, her face in her hands and her shoulders slumped. He pulled her to him and she sobbed into his chest, grabbing onto his jacket lapels for dear life.

Across from him, Cassian was trying to calm a raging Nesta. She wasn’t mad, but she wasn’t in control of her emotions either. What caused her to be like this, Rhys didn’t know, and he was too shocked on his own accord to probe into her reasoning. Perhaps it was that without Kaden her child would have died, and she had never even had the chance to thank him.

Lucien and Elain looked like they were going to be sick, and the only thing that held them back from vomiting all over the floor was their tight grip on each other’s hands.

And then there was Eleana, calming sitting at the head of the table like she hadn’t just refuted things they thought to be absolute truths.

“So it wasn’t Azriel and Felix that saved you that day?” Rhys’ voice cracked as he addressed his daughter.

“They were there, somewhere, but it was Kaden who saved me.”

“And the Room?”

“Visions I was getting from him.”

“And Th-Thea?” Rhys shakily got to his feet, letting his wife go.

“No medical help in the world could have brought her back. The Cauldron blessed us when I was given Kaden.”

Rhys took stepped towards his daughter, and she rose to give him a solid hug. “Do you see now, Papa? Why I love him so, and would even if he wasn’t my mate?”

“Yes, my little Butterfly, I understand.”

#acohad #a court of hearts and darkness #acomaf #acotar #acowar #feysand #nessian #moriel #fic #fanfic #Eleaden

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backtomiddleearthmonth · 7 years

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Music of the Waters Prompt Set 1

Here is the first set of prompts for B2MeM 2018! They range from situations to quotes to pictures to musical terminology.

31 prompts are under the cut.

1. "I have passed through fire and deep water, since we parted." (The Two Towers, "The White Rider") 2. "There he wandered long in a dream of music that turned into running water, and then suddenly into a voice." (Fellowship of the Ring, "Many Meetings") 3. Over the mountains And over the waves, Under the fountains And under the graves; Under floods that are deepest, Which Neptune obey, Over rocks that are steepest, Love will find out the way. (Anonymous (17th century song)) 4. By the starlit mere of Cuiviénen, Water of Awakening, they rose from the sleep of Ilúvatar; and while they dwelt yet silent by Cuiviénen their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. (The Silmarillion, “Of the Coming of the Elves and the Captivity of Melkor) 5. Create a fanwork where a character unintentionally gets wet— caught in the rain, falling in a lake, or whatever you like. 6. https://unsplash.com/photos/VUfUY0JYweA (Man playing pan pipes) 7. "But the songs wither, and the world worsens." ("The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorthelm's Son") 8. Then I thought in my heart that we drew near to the Sea; for wide was the water in the darkness, and sea-birds innumerable cried on its shores. (Return of the King, “The Last Debate”) 9. ... a marching music began like solemn drums, and above the rolling beats and booms there welled voices singing high and strong. (The Two Towers, “Treebeard”) 10. Improvisation: the art or act of playing music, harmonies or variations that are composed on the spot without previously learning them; making it up as you go along 11. The song of Fingon Elves yet sing, captain of armies, Gnomish king, who fell at last in flame of swords with his white banners and his lords. (The Lay of Leithian) 12. https://unsplash.com/photos/6TWiFzTv-Yc (Hand pressing wall in the rain) 13. Mostly Ulmo speaks to those who dwell in Middle-earth with voices that are heard only as the music of water. For all seas, lakes, rivers, fountains and springs are in his government; so that the Elves say that the spirit of Ulmo runs in all the veins of the world. (The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”) 14. By hard fate was she born into such days, for she was gentle of heart and loved neither hunting nor war. Her love was given to trees and to the flowers of the wild, and she was a singer and a maker of songs. (Unfinished Tales, “Narn i Hîn Húrin”) 15. Create a fanwork where a character crosses a river or the ocean. 16. A seer long silent her song upraised-- the halls hearkened-- on high she stood. Of doom and death dark words she spake, of the last battle of the leaguered Gods (Völsungakviða en nýja (The New Lay of the Völsungs)) 17. Then taking two leaves, he laid them on his hands and breathed on them, and then he crushed them, and straightway a living freshness filled the room, as if the air itself awoke and tingled, sparkling with joy. And then he cast the leaves into the bowls of steaming water that were brought to him, and at once all hearts were lightened. (The Return of the King, “The Houses of Healing”) 18. http://res.freestockphotos.biz/pictures/9/9950-seagulls-flying-over-the-beach-at-sunset-pv.jpg (Seagulls at sunset) 19. Now they had fair halls in the mountains, and store of goods, and their days did not seem so hard, though in their songs they spoke ever of the Lonely Mountain far away. (Return of the King, Appendix A.III, “Durin’s Folk”) 20. Nocturne: a night-piece, music that evokes a nocturnal mood 21. It was hushed and without music, as if one had died there not long since; for in Númenor in those days it was the part of men to play upon instruments, and the music that Ancalimë heard in childhood was the singing of women at work, out of doors, and away from the hearing of the White Lady of Emerië. (Unfinished Tales, “Aldarion and Erendis”) 22. ...but the water before them was dark, with only a few curling wisps like steam among the reeds by the bank. (Fellowship of the Ring, “A Conspiracy Unmasked”) 23. And as they lay in silver white another song she sang, of night and darkness without end, of height uplifted to the stars, and flight and freedom. (Lay of Leithian) 24. https://unsplash.com/photos/wPaBwop_rSo (Violin) 25. Water rights and water access 26. And the wind has blown half the tiles off my roof, and water is pouring into the bedroom. (Leaf by Niggle) 27. herein cold water rushes through the apple branches, and the entire space is overshadowed by roses, and from the shimmering leaves sleep pours down. (Sappho, trans. Gregory Nagy and Casey Dué) 28. At times he [Ulmo] will come unseen to the shores of Middle-earth, or pass far inland up firths of the sea, and there make music upon his great horns, the Ulumúri, that are wrought of white shell; and those to whom that music comes hear it ever after in their hearts, and longing for the sea never leaves them again. (The Silmarillion, “Valaquenta”) 29. http://res.freestockphotos.biz/pictures/16/16665-aquatic-environment-with-trees-pv.jpg (Pond with trees) 30. If the character of your choice looked in the Mirror of Galadriel, what would they see? 31. Home is here, and familiar things; A cup, a wooden bowl, a blanket, Prayer, a gift for the god, and sleep. (And music, says the harp, And music.) (Mary Stewart, “Rest Here, Enchanter”)

#writing prompt #tolkien #lord of the rings #the hobbit #silmarillion #b2mem #2018 prompts

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dailychapel · 4 years

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Lord, I come before you ready to pour out my worries, anxieties, and fears at Your feet. I am claiming and declaring Your promises for blessings of peace and strength over my life. Bring peace into my soul that passes all worldly understanding and make me a light for others to see Your strength.

[Psa 141:1-10 NLT] 1 A psalm of David. O LORD, I am calling to you. Please hurry! Listen when I cry to you for help! 2 Accept my prayer as incense offered to you, and my upraised hands as an evening offering. 3 Take control of what I say, O LORD, and guard my lips. 4 Don't let me drift toward evil or take part in acts of wickedness. Don't let me share in the delicacies of those who do wrong. 5 Let the godly strike me! It will be a kindness! If they correct me, it is soothing medicine. Don't let me refuse it. But I pray constantly against the wicked and their deeds. 6 When their leaders are thrown down from a cliff, the wicked will listen to my words and find them true. 7 Like rocks brought up by a plow, the bones of the wicked will lie scattered without burial. 8 I look to you for help, O Sovereign LORD. You are my refuge; don't let them kill me. 9 Keep me from the traps they have set for me, from the snares of those who do wrong. 10 Let the wicked fall into their own nets, but let me escape.

[Eze 39:21-29 NLT] 21 "In this way, I will demonstrate my glory to the nations. Everyone will see the punishment I have inflicted on them and the power of my fist when I strike. 22 And from that time on the people of Israel will know that I am the LORD their God. 23 The nations will then know why Israel was sent away to exile--it was punishment for sin, for they were unfaithful to their God. Therefore, I turned away from them and let their enemies destroy them. 24 I turned my face away and punished them because of their defilement and their sins. 25 "So now, this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I will end the captivity of my people; I will have mercy on all Israel, for I jealously guard my holy reputation! 26 They will accept responsibility for their past shame and unfaithfulness after they come home to live in peace in their own land, with no one to bother them. 27 When I bring them home from the lands of their enemies, I will display my holiness among them for all the nations to see. 28 Then my people will know that I am the LORD their God, because I sent them away to exile and brought them home again. I will leave none of my people behind. 29 And I will never again turn my face from them, for I will pour out my Spirit upon the people of Israel. I, the Sovereign LORD, have spoken!"

[Act 13:13-25 NLT] 13 Paul and his companions then left Paphos by ship for Pamphylia, landing at the port town of Perga. There John Mark left them and returned to Jerusalem. 14 But Paul and Barnabas traveled inland to Antioch of Pisidia. On the Sabbath they went to the synagogue for the services. 15 After the usual readings from the books of Moses and the prophets, those in charge of the service sent them this message: "Brothers, if you have any word of encouragement for the people, come and give it." 16 So Paul stood, lifted his hand to quiet them, and started speaking. "Men of Israel," he said, "and you God-fearing Gentiles, listen to me. 17 "The God of this nation of Israel chose our ancestors and made them multiply and grow strong during their stay in Egypt. Then with a powerful arm he led them out of their slavery. 18 He put up with them through forty years of wandering in the wilderness. 19 Then he destroyed seven nations in Canaan and gave their land to Israel as an inheritance. 20 All this took about 450 years. "After that, God gave them judges to rule until the time of Samuel the prophet. 21 Then the people begged for a king, and God gave them Saul son of Kish, a man of the tribe of Benjamin, who reigned for forty years. 22 But God removed Saul and replaced him with David, a man about whom God said, 'I have found David son of Jesse, a man after my own heart. He will do everything I want him to do.' 23 "And it is one of King David's descendants, Jesus, who is God's promised Savior of Israel! 24 Before he came, John the Baptist preached that all the people of Israel needed to repent of their sins and turn to God and be baptized. 25 As John was finishing his ministry he asked, 'Do you think I am the Messiah? No, I am not! But he is coming soon--and I'm not even worthy to be his slave and untie the sandals on his feet.'

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, send us out with confidence in your word, to tell the world of your saving acts, and bring glory to your name. Amen.

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thomasgmcelwain · 6 years

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Genesis 7

1 And then YHWH said to Noah, "Come

Into the ark, you and in sum

All your household, because I've seen

You're just before Me and have been.

See me too, my Beloved, that I may be

One righteous in this generation, see!

Your act of seeing is the power that

Makes good of evil and makes lean of fat.

I choose creative action from Your eye

And choosing so, I choose the righteous die.

I cast no dice below Fortuna's face,

But lay my fate beneath the gazing mace

That crushes dross and lays the statue bare.

See into being righteous, good and fair.

So there shall be no I-ness in my breast,

No self existing in the east or west,

But only You will be my I's command,

My eye be Yours, and Yours too be my hand.

2 "You shall take with you seven of each,

Of every clean beast, male and peach,

Two each of animals unclean,

One buck and with each one his queen,

3 "Also seven each of birds of air,

Male and female, to keep them there

The species live on all the earth,

Each original for its worth.

4 "In seven days I shall bring rain

In forty days and nights ordain

Destruction of all living on

The earth I've made from mastodon

To sheep and ox and calling crane."

Seven of clean in seven days You teach

To enter in the ark no man can reach

Without Your guidance. Seven pairs of clean

In secret walk the plank and are not seen

Again beneath the faithful course of sun

Until the cleansing water flood is done.

Bring to the secret places of my soul,

The inner temple chamber of my whole,

The fourteen innocent ones in their pairs

To teach their mystic doctrine unawares.

Come enter in my thinking and my being,

And sanctify my seventh sense of seeing,

That from the seven councils' purity

The visions of Your oneness come to me.

5 And Noah did what he was told

By YHWH, both he and his household.

6 Six hundred years was Noah's age

On earth when it came to flood stage.

You breathe out once and earth sprouts living things

That stay to blossom once and reign like kings

And then to perish as You draw Your breath

Once more back to Yourself. The end is death

And dark destruction for both man and beast,

For all things from the greatest to the least.

So You destroy and remake all the earth

As with Your breath all things receive their worth.

Breathe on me too for seven days and then

Let me return to You as must all men.

For forty days the world is bathed in light,

And with the forty alternates the night.

Beloved, I seek the gentle rising of

Your sleepless wonder and returning love.

7 So Noah, with his sons, his wife,

And his sons' wives, went in the ark

Each one went in to save his life

From flood and thunder, rain and dark.

8 Clean animals, and the unclean,

And birds and everything that's seen

Moving on land, 9 went two by two

To Noah in the ark, so few,

Just male and female of each kind

As Ælohim made Noah mind.

10 It happened after seven days

A flood was on the earth in haze.

You told the blessèd Noah what to take

Into the ark, but nowhere do You make

It clear what animals are clean and which

Are not. I think I would have found a glitch

In regulations as I tried to count

The pairs of clean and unclean's right amount.

I thank You that Your guidance right and straight

Has not left ancient man to fortune's fate,

But every prophet knew without the Book

The law of good and evil acts, the look

Of clean and unclean thing. Then let the sound

Of truths that rang in blessèd Noah's bound

Guide me too as I enter in the ark,

With clean and unclean things when I embark.

11 The year six hundred in the days

Of Noah, saw the fountains raise,

The second month, day seventeen,

The deep broke up, and there were seen

The heavenly windows opened 12 till

For forty days and nights rains spill.

Rain on my heart for forty days and nights

To drown all violence and set to rights

The word and flame that guide my wandering way

Along the strange paths of the night and day.

O my Beloved, what brightness is the cloud

That overshadows earth and sea with loud

And pounding thunders! Some may ask a firm

And rocky refuge, I am glad to worm

My way into a rocking, running boat

Before a raging storm, driven to float

At chance and luck it seems from east to west.

Your will, though random motion, is the best.

For all the seeming of the wind and rage

I know Your guidance does not miss the gauge.

13 On one day Noah and his sons,

Shem, Ham, and Japheth, they're the ones,

And Noah's wife, the three sons' wives

Came in the ark to save their lives.

14 They and each beast after its kind,

All cattle in each sort designed,

And every creeping thing that creeps

On earth and to its kindred keeps,

And every bird of every feather

Each of its kind and kind of weather.

15 And they went in the ark by twos

To Noah, all flesh not to lose

The breath of life which is their dues.

16 So those that entered, spouse and male,

Went as commanded, without fail,

By Ælohim, YHWH shut the gaol.

My preaching days are over and no more

Than eight have entered in, and not a score,

Despite my frantic Bible thumping. My

Charisma does not seem to make the sky.

The dumb beasts favour homilies of mine

More than the churchly, even the wild swine.

One chased me as a child once in the wood,

His back not grazing toes where as I could

I grasped and hung on grape vine on the bank

Of one dark algae-covered stream and dank

Weed growth. The wild pig has but little smell.

I wonder, my Beloved, if pigs did well

To enter in the ark, if just one pair.

If so, what did the humans do for air?

17 The flood is on earth forty days.

The waters increase and upraise

The ark to float high over earth

18 The waters increased much in worth

And volume where the ark still floated,

Both safe and sound, fully devoted.

19 The waters rose and rose until

They covered every slumbering hill,

High under heaven. 20 The waters rose

Fifteen arm-lengths then to repose

Upon the mountains that were covered,

On earth no hill left undiscovered.

For forty years times three the wicked waited

Then rain for forty days fell unabated,

And forty days the waters were assuaged,

While forty days on Sinai You engaged

The prophet Moses, Israel wandered long

The wilderness for forty years, no song

Nor meat came on Elijah's lips for those

Long days and nights of forty that he chose

To spend on Horeb, praying there and fasting,

While Nineveh spent forty days contrasting

In revelry before repenting well.

The forties pass four gates before they tell

The secret of dividing grape in forty

For forty saints preoccupied and warty.

21 And all flesh that moved on earth died:

The birds and cattle alongside

The beasts and every creeping thing

That creeps on earth, and man and king.

22 All in whose nostrils was the breath

Of the life spirit, all met death.

23 So He destroyed all living things

On the dry ground, with feet or wings,

Men, cattle, creeping creature, bird,

Were all on earth destroyed, interred.

But only Noah and those who

Were with him in the ark stayed true.

24 While water remained on the land

One hundred fifty days unscanned.

The dry and violent earth of my heart

Needs water pacifying. Slay the part

In me, the beastly, cattly, fowlly lust

That goes its own way when I ought to trust.

Let only that true spirit that entranced

The soul of blessèd Noah and enhanced

The darkness of his journey stay alive

In me. I rise upon the waters, dive

And rise again. My wooden rafters shudder.

A cow, in plaintive mooing, shrinks at udder.

None yet have learned to drink the milk or eat

The richly roasted and the savoury meat.

I ride the fine destructive waves of grace

Until I come at last to see Your face.

#The Beloved and I

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grumpygreenwitch · 2 years

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The Fairy and the Prince #9 + #10

Originally posted 10/26/2022

On a rainy day of early spring, Prince Rickard accused Prince Ulster of stealing a favorite book. The book, of course, was found in Ulster’s room; he claimed it had been loaned to him, a gift between friends. The argument came down to the only solution available where every wronged party had only words, not witnesses.

Rickard ran Ulster through, and all the Queen’s physicians could do was stabilize him long enough to make the trip home and die with his family. Prince Alexander formally abandoned his claim to the throne and rode away on that day. Adam watched the train leave, perched on his windowsill. They wouldn’t be the last, he was sure; Rickard had opened a door the older princes would be too eager to troop through.

Meanwhile Adam found himself having to sneak away again. Aware that the youngest prince had, for some reason, caught the Dowager’s eye, master Leminy stuffed Adam’s schedule full without so much as the prince’s by-your-leave. Adam retaliated by beginning his disappearing act once again. No amount of shouting at Beli or Dane would make them chase after the young prince when he took to the rooftops, and when the Master of Scions tried his temper against Arditty, he discovered himself at the receiving end of someone who could, and did, out-shout, out-shriek, out-talk and out-curse him. He beat a hasty retreat, not wishing attention brought to his faults, gritted his teeth, and tried every other trick in the book to figure out where the foul little urchin was going off to.

It couldn’t be a girl. The disappearing had started long before Adam’s interest in the fair sex had been roused, and he seemed about as interested in the lovely Arditty and her occasional companions as he was in his jousting lessons.

It couldn’t be extra classes. Every teacher in the palace accounted for their time down to the last minute, the last tick and turn of a toothed wheel, and Leminy’s careful investigations had revealed no other source of education, noble or plebeian.

No, the boy was larking off, and gods only knew where. In all honesty, if he’d known Adam kept going into the woods to wait for Linden, master Leminy would have likely backed off and waited gleefully for him to disappear. He would have taken away the prince’s friends, his horse, his hawk, his books, everything, but the Queen Dowager thought it utterly adorable that the youngest of her potential heirs was organizing a tidsy-bitsy court around himself. If they were to suddenly vanish, she would want to know why.

“Boul!” he cried out gladly, forgot he was nearly twenty feet off the ground, and stepped on a too-thin branch that snapped right out from under his boot.

A strong, nut-brown hand caught his, and the wild and merry laugh he knew so well made his heart soar. “You’re never getting good at this, are you?”

“Why should I?” He grinned up at Linden, his grip around their wrist as strong as his friend’s around his. “You’re always there to catch me.”

Linden laughed again, pulling him up, and they slid together down the tree and into a hug as soon as they hit the ground. The young troll had indeed grown, and he rumbled in flustered surprise when Adam hugged him as well, long arms coming around the prince and very carefully patting him in welcome. They exchanged leaving-and-returning and staying-and-waiting presents, and Adam watched in fascination as Boul pressed the stone arrow-head to his arm, where it sank seamlessly into the pebbled gray skin, only to reappear a moment later, point up, between the young troll’s knuckle. Boul looked incredibly pleased. Linden wove the striped, long feather of a hawk into their hair, and then helped secure around Adam’s neck a grass necklace with a shell that had long ago turned to shimmering stone.

They met the kelpie right in the middle of summer’s highest heat, when the air was still and full of motes, the leaves at their darkest green, the light golden. Boul could only come by once a week at that point, and they both missed him terribly. Linden was flopped on one immense, exposed root from the linden tree, half-drowsed and whistling back to the birds in the canopy, who found the conversation both invigorating and maddening, if their enthusiastic replies were anything to go by. Adam, having shed everything but his pants and shirt, was lying with his back on the sweet green grass and his feet propped up on the tree of the trunk, the bark a pleasant scratchy feeling against his heels. He was bouncing a piece of Linden’s sunlight, bright and warm, from one hand to another, and he was nearly asleep.

“What was -” The scream repeated, louder, full of madness and fury and agony, and Adam felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to join the deer in its heedless flight. “Linden.”

“Oh, no,” his friend whispered.

“Linden, what is that.”

“Adam, we should -”

“Linden.”

“We should go -”

The scream came again, rising to a shrieking note that rang against Adam’s bones and rattled in his teeth, making every inch of him clench in pain. All he could think at the moment was that, if that was how the sound of it made him feel, what sort of torture was the creature screaming feeling? A moment later he was running, barefoot, panting, through the woods.

“Adam!” Linden was just a breath behind him. All around them the trees whispered, and for all that he could never fully hear them, the prince felt their concern, their worry and their fear. He raced on. They passed the great fallen giant that had once been their fortress, their ship, their dragon, until decay had sent it back to join the rich ground from whence it had once sprung. They passed a low, ruined wall of tumbled stones and roses gone to briars. They ran until the ground under their feet went muddy and soft and Adam nearly fell and was forced to check his speed, breathing hard, shoving cattails and wild irises out of his way.

“Adam, we can’t be here!” Linden whispered, trying to catch his breath.

A new scream deafened them, and they both dropped to a crouch on the soggy ground, curled up, trying to escape what couldn’t be fled, driven by instinct to make themselves small. Adam recovered first, inching forward, but he could feel the sun-warm presence of Linden at his back after a moment, and then the clinging hands of his friend clutching the back of his shirt.

It was a very well crafted trap.

The water, normally clean and with a delicate embroidery of wild water lilies, had been churned to a muddy frot, thrashed to chaos by the heavy links of a chain. One end of it disappeared into the depths of the water, and Adam knew instantly what it was: a storm chain. At some point the pond had been part of a river’s sluice system, likely the same river that had been partially diverted to cavort and twist in artificially wild whorls and cascades through the Royal Gardens. The gate and its mechanism had likely gone to ruin eventually; when they’d done so, the chain that controlled both had grown loose.

And the pond’s master had, somehow, got caught in it.

The kelpie was running in narrow, maddened arcs at the other end of the chain. It wasn’t disguised; this was no beautiful white horse, no magnificent stallion, no sweet mare. Adam could count every bone under the sagging, mold-splotched white hide. Its eyes were a poisonous green and most of its face was bare bone, a few scarce strands of rotting flesh holding together its jaws, jaws full of teeth even a dragon would have envied. Froth and spittle flew from those jaws as it bucked and twisted and writhed, but the chain, the iron chain, had tangled up around a foreleg and, in trying to get free, the fairy horse had somehow ended up with both leg and neck caught in a loop. The broken end of the chain ended in a hook that no longer attached to anything, and that hook kept slamming into the side of the kelpie’s neck, which was slowly oozing a black, sickly slime from a dozen wounds.

It would have fled into the water, Adam was certain, if it weren’t because the chain was coming from the water, and likely the kelpie thought there was an enemy, a predator, on the other end, instead of whatever hundredweight counterweight stone had been placed there an unknown age ago.

The kelpie paused in its frantic struggles, sniffing the breeze. Adam felt Linden gasp tinily.

The monster lunged at them, its scream fury and hunger. Linden yanked at Adam’s shirt.

“Wait,” Adam caught Linden’s hand. His math was nowhere near Beli’s level, but his archery was excellent.

He wasn’t wrong. The chain yanked taut and the kelpie crashed down a good four body lengths or more from them, shrieking impotent fury. It fought itself to its feet with tremendous effort, the chain’s hook now embedded into a shoulder, faced them, and hissed.

“Adam,” Linden whispered urgently, “we should go.”

“But it’s hurt. It’s caught.”

“It’s caught in iron, Adam, we can’t help it, and even if we could, it’s a kelpie!”

“And?” Adam turned to face those beautiful many-colored eyes. “That’s his nature, not his fault. That’s like blaming me for being a prince when I never wanted to be.”

“Adam, I can’t make you not a prince,” Linden declared impatiently, “but I hope I can keep you from getting chewed up to bits!”

Adam looked away. Linden was right, of course. The kelpie didn’t care. It wouldn’t care if they tried to help it, it wouldn’t care if they had good intentions. It was a kelpie. It hunted, it drowned, it ate. As fairies went, it was one of the simplest, for all that it also was one of the most dangerous.

“It’s just wrong, to leave anything to die like that,” Adam said quietly.

“Yes, it is,” Linden agreed after a moment. And then, because they had been friends for so long, they added, “I would help you, but I won’t risk you. You’re my friend, the kelpie’s not.”

Adam couldn’t help but grin. “I don’t think he’s anyone’s friend, Linden.”

“Do you really think we can help it?”

“I don’t know. Let me think.” Adam chewed restlessly on his lips. In the distance he heard horns from the castle, saw the kelpie’s head come up, ears pricked. “Oh, butter and burrs,” he muttered, Culli’s favorite non-swear.

“What is it, what’s happened?”

“They heard him screaming at the palace. They’re calling for everyone to go indoors.” Adam blew a low breath. “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

Linden made no comment, but from their expression Adam had a sudden, unexpected insight into his friend’s life. “Are you going to be in trouble for helping it, Linden?”

“Not for helping it,” his friend replied. It would have probably worked on any other twelve-year-old.

“For helping me?”

“No!” Linden blew out a sharp sigh. “For getting this close to it at all.” When Adam looked faintly frustrated, they pointed both hands dramatically at the monstrous creature. “It’s a kelpie, Adam,” they pointed out tartly.

“Ugh!” Adam tugged impatiently at his hair, as if by doing so he could tug out some miraculous fix to the problem at hand. “Can you get us some rope?”

“You can’t trap a kelpie with rope.”

“It’s not for him, it’s for me.”

***

Adam had meant to use himself as bait but Linden wouldn’t have it, and they were, the prince had to admit, the quicker and more agile of the two. He waited and watched, chewing restlessly on his nails and nursing a near-painful pit in his stomach, as Linden slipped out of the cover the wild irises had given them both. The kelpie turned immediately, one side lathered in its black, oozing blood.

Linden bowed, graceful and polite, never taking their eyes off the creature. With an awkward hobble, the kelpie bowed back, and lunged.

Linden ran, fleet as a stray breeze, and the kelpie’s teeth closed on nothing. The fairy predator twisted around with preternatural grace, but Linden was better and the false horse nearly went down trying to keep up. They ran for the willow trees and the kelpie surged forward on the straight sprint.

Linden twisted away and slid on the mud, and from his spot among the irises Adam winced as he heard the kelpie’s fangs snap shut. Like thistle down, a few white hairs flew away in the breeze and the monstrous horse howled fury, leaping to re-orient itself, stumbling. Linden was halfway to the gnarled cherry trees when the kelpie surged finally after them.

Adam, watching with his heart in his mouth and drowning in preemptive regrets, saw it at last, saw it as clearly as he’d never seen it before: a branch swung low, covered in glossy green leaves, like a gnarled hand. With the kelpie’s hungry breath washing over the back of their fragile neck, Linden caught that hand and twisted around the cherry tree, turning right back the way they’d come. The false horse slid, crashed down, scrabbled to its feet and launched after its prey, blind with hunger, all its cunning drowned in rage. Linden whipped around another cherry tree, the ground under their feet impossibly free of gnarled, jutting roots, and the kelpie followed, neck stretched out after the promise of warm flesh and hot blood to sate its hunger -

Adam rushed over to where Linden had stopped, hands on their knees, breathing hard. “You did it!”

“Uh-huh,” was all Linden could wheeze. “Your turn.”

“Right.” Adam looked at the kelpie; it had fixed its venomous, alien gaze on the two of them, ears as flat to its bare skull as any real horse’s, and likely for the same reason. It took every ounce of courage the prince had never known he had to take the first step forward toward the monster.

The kelpie awkwardly surged to its hooves and growled, a low and burbling sound. Adam faltered, and then stepped forward slowly again. “Wait until I call, Linden,” he cried out over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the fairy.

“I don’t want to, but I will!” his friend replied, already climbing up one of the ancient willows.

Adam drew a deep, shaking breath. He had a stick in one hand, a good long one that had many times served as both spear and flagpole, and every now again as an impromptu fishing rod. It was sturdy oak, polished by his years of favoring it. Around his shoulders and waist were the knots of a slender, golden rope, as thin around as his littlest finger. He knew better than to look at it too closely; like Linden’s many-colored, shattered eyes, he might see the truth of it if he did, and it’d be useless as a rope then.

He grew as close to the kelpie as he dared, and bowed as he’d seen Linden do, though nowhere near as gracefully. The kelpie’s ears came up in surprise and, after a moment, it bowed back.

Adam blew out a long breath, steeled himself, and reached out with the stick, blowing sweat and sticky hair out of his eyes as he worked to keep it steady. Carefully, so carefully, he slid the tip of the stick under the hook where it had shallowly buried itself into the predator’s shoulder. The white, mottled and sickly skin gave way as he pushed with a sickening squelching sound, but when Adam pulled the stick away to try again, it came free without issue. The kelpie watched him with feral intensity, and its growl never abated.

“Adam!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” It was so many things far beyond fine that it had come right back around to it, Adam thought as he picked himself up. He paced back and forth a bit, squinting at the sight of the chain and trying to figure out how to untangle it, the water horse’s predatory gaze never wavering from him.

The easy part was dragging the chain off the kelpie’s neck. It left a ragged, oozing path of rotting gray and murky black as it went, and the horse shook itself from nose to tail as it did, just as the real animal would have. Adam had to get far too close to catch the first loop tangled around the predator’s leg, and when he looked up from his work it was to find that the kelpie had stretched its neck as far as it could, a long tongue like a mud eel writhing between its fangs trying to latch onto any part of the young prince it could reach. It was barely three inches away, but they were three inches it couldn’t ford.

Adam swallowed the stone in his throat and sent it to join the one sitting heavily in his stomach. “Linden, get ready!”

“Ready!”

He caught the hook and lifted it with the tip of his stick, unwinding the chain by slow measures. He struck the kelpie’s chest once and the horse hissed at him like a goose, but it didn’t otherwise react. The leg was a blackened, sorry mess.

Moving as quick as he could, Adam swung the hook aside. Almost before he knew if he’d done it right he was scrabbling back and away, yanking the pole up like a shield. “Linden!”

The kelpie leapt forward, free, and its head struck like a viper’s, aimed for Adam’s throat. Instead its jaws found that faithful length of weathered oak. Its fangs closed like a cleaver striking a carcass, and the pole splintered with a terrible crack.

Adam went down on his butt, but he was already flying back, back and away, sliding over the mud and grass as if he were a leaf and a strong wind had caught him, Linden pulling on the rope as fast as their hands could move. The kelpie, bad leg or not, screamed a challenge and lunged after prey that kept denying him. It tripped, the leg unwilling to fully hold it upright, and it tried to snap instead at one of the prince’s bare feet. Adam threw one of the stick halves at it and it reared in shock, its whinny almost a horse’s if not for the note of utter disbelief in it. As if it couldn’t fathom having a stick thrown at its face as a defense mechanism.

And then Adam was at the willow, and he scrabbled for branches that were simply there, where his hands would find them. He climbed, in panic and desperation, trying to catch a breath terror would not let him have. Strong hands found his and yanked him up even as he kicked himself away from the ground. The kelpie’s teeth snapped shut one last time, just below him. Under the willow, the fairy horse dropped from its rear and spun, squealing in fury, cow-kicking at the willow’s trunk. It paced and trotted underneath, head cocked so it could stare at the two children, first with one eye, then the other, snarling openly.

Adam and Linden climbed a little higher.

The kelpie chewed on the willow’s bark, likely out of spite more than any thought that it could actually take the venerable tree down. It yanked on the trailing boughs, brought several down and grew incensed all over again when they draped over the wounds on its back. It crow-hopped and kicked and circled the tree like a prowling wolf. And finally, after pawing at the ground restlessly with its bad leg and bending down to sniff at it, it hobbled away, proud and slow, tail held up like a banner. By the time it disappeared beyond the cherry trees, it was a magnificent white stallion with bright blue eyes and a leg bathed in crimson blood.

The children fought to catch their breath, harried and ragged, Adam’s head nearly at the top of the willow, Linden halfway out of the canopy.

The willow creaked in the breeze.

The cherry trees sighed.

“It’s gone,” Linden whispered. “Adam…”

Linden tumbled off the willow, laughing like the ringing of crystal bells, and landed sprawled on the soft grass beneath the willow. Adam scrambled down and dropped on his stomach, and they could do little but laugh until they couldn’t breathe, next to the beautiful pond and in the shade of the whispering willow boughs. In the end, Adam rose to his feet and offered Linden a hand. “Come on!”

Culli-maid was sitting next to the cold heart in Adam’s rooms when she heard the rapid tapping on one of the windows. At first she’d thought it was herself; she had a terribly unladylike habit of tapping her foot rapidly when she came under stress. But a quick look down reminded her that she was wearing soft leather slippers and, anyway, they would have made no sound on the thick pile of the rug before the empty hearth.

She thought it might be the boys, but the last time she’d checked on them Beli had had his nose buried in one of Adam’s homework journals, checking against it his own work, and Dane had been asleep, snoring faintly, on a couch. Neither had reason to draw attention to themselves, least of all at that moment.

Eventually, she realized where the sound came from, and gasped hugely. The mending she’d hardly been tending to tumbled from her lap to the ground and she rushed to the window; there, on the other side, Adam pointed at the locks.

“Oh, tree-father and night-mother!” the maid whispered, flapping a hand at the prince. “Alright, well, step away so I don’t shove you off whatever it is you’re standing on!” she hissed at him before throwing the window open. “Your Highness, where’ve you been!”

Adam grinned at her and leaned back some, and Culli’s breath caught very sharply. The prince was clinging by his fingertips to the graven stone windowsill, filthy and unafraid, the bright blue of his royal-blood eyes alive in a way she had never seen. There were green smears on his shirt, flecks of mud and dirt everywhere on him, and his hair would have made rats a proud nest. He was standing, as far as she could tell, on the slippery clay of a rain sluice pipe, unconcerned at the fact that only his toes had room to perch on it, or that he was four stories above a rose garden.

“Having fun,” Adam replied, releasing one hand to rub it against his shirt. As his weight shifted, Culli lost her ability to breathe altogether.

Linden, inhuman and beautiful, graceful and wild, blinked at the maid with their shattered, many-colored eyes, and the maid blinked back.

“Culli, this is Linden. Linden, this is Culli-maid; she’s good.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Culli wheezed out, manners kicking in where everything else she’d ever learned in life was failing her. She even offered a little curtsy, though it came out stiff and trembling. The motion forced her to let go of the window, and Adam scrabbled in like a squirrel.

“Pleasure to make yours, Culli-maid,” Linden replied, their voice lilting and their eyes the most astonishing shade of green Culli had ever seen in a face as sharp and brown as finely carved and polished wood. She would never remember what she’d glimpsed before, buried in that green.

“Are you…” Culli swallowed to try and get her voice to work anywhere near properly. “Are you coming in?”

“Me? No! What good would it do me, what good would I do?” Linden laughed. “Adam?”

“Have they been by to check on me, Culli?”

“No, highness. But they’ll be here soon, I heard them pass on the way to the other wing.”

“I’ll be fine, then, Linden. Will you?”

“I don’t know,” Linden admitted, shifting restlessly on the sluice until they noticed the Culli-maid was beginning to be more terrified of them falling than of their presence. “I’ll send Boul if I get in trouble!” And with that warning Adam had to be satisfied as Linden bolted down the clay pipe, swift and light and out of sight a moment later, a leap up taking them to the roofs and beyond anyone’s reach.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #fantasy #fantasy horror #writing #fantasy writing #my writing #original writing #boul the troll #boulders-for-brains

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