#Best Horse Riding Gold Coast

[chibipeachu]

Beauty & The Shadow Man | Aleksander M.

A/n: Happy holidays! I've been working on this for a bit now, so i do hope you all enjoy reading as much as i've loved writing this!! Please send feedback! Wc: 9.6k (semi proofread) Warnings: Blood, cursing Pairings: aleksander morozova x fem!reader

“Once upon a time, there was a rich merchant, a brave and kind man, who after losing his beloved wife, lived on for the good of his six children.” The storyteller flipped the page. “Three boys, three girls, who filled the house with laughter and chatter.” 

Giggles coming from four children, laid across from the maiden. “Sounds a lot like you four!” She joked before going back to the page.

“The man had a fleet of three ships, the siren, triton, and the largest, leviathan.” The children scoot upwards to look at the drawings of the boats. 

“They were stuffed with the finest wares in the land, from jewels, to fabrics and mead. One evening while on their way back to port, a violent storm had appeared. Lighting tore their sails, snapped their masts, the bottom of the ocean sparkled with the jewels and golds that were swallowed up forever.” The children frowned.

“Gone within the month, the merchant and his children were forced to leave their home.” She flipped the page once again.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You rolled your eyes as you listened to your siblings complain about moving to the countryside and having to give up their best valuables. 

Your shoes quietly clacked on the wood as you made your way towards the statue of your mother, your father had made after her death. You sighed as you knelt down and placed flowers in front of the statue. 

“There mother, we have to start a new life...” You sighed as you stared at the statue. “There you are y/n.” You turned to face your father who smiled sadly at you and the statue. “Would she have liked the countryside?” You asked, hugging your father as you both admired her one last time. “She would’ve loved it..” He kissed the top of your head. 

“Then, I'm sure I'll love it too!” You smiled as he guided you both towards the carriages filled with the belongings you were able to keep. 

It was hard to get used to the countryside for a few weeks before you fell into a routine. You tied an apron around your waist before walking up the stairs to your older sister’s bedroom and began knocking. “Get up you two, it’s your turn to help in the garden!” You kept knocking.

“Marie has fallen ill, we’ll take our breakfast in bed..” Anne, the oldest, said, opening the door, her skin dewy with sweat. “Absolutely not, you two are going to help in the garden!” You scoffed and marched in.

Marie laughed and fanned herself. “I’d rather die..” You rolled your eyes and dragged her upwards into a sitting motion. 

“Too bad, I'll come back if you both aren’t down in two minutes.” You threatened, walking into the garden, you walked over to the laundry line and hung the wet clothing. 

“Defeated, pierced by arrows, the young man left the battle, taking refuge in the forest.” You glanced up and smiled as your brother, Thomas, sat in the empty carriage seat, writing a story in his notebook.  

“How’s it going?” You motioned for his notebook, he sighs and tosses it to the side. “Horrible, too realistic.” He scoffed, making you smile as he walked over and helped pin the clothes to the line.

You both turned as your father cheered from his horse, riding up to the cottage with a wide smile. You both walked over towards him.

“Gather everyone, I have some news!” He cheered. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“They were happy to see me at the shipping offices, Dumont was charming, his eldest daughter married a count!” He updated, looking at his two oldest daughters.

“It could’ve been me!” Marie sighed. “But the big news is, the mermaid, which was your mother’s favorite ship, has been found!” You looked shocked at his new, leaning forward to hear properly. 

“She was drifting off the coast, and brought back into port.” Your father announced, 

“And the goods onboard?” Your brother questioned, “Intact!” Your siblings cheered, knowing they could return to their typical uppity lives.

“Children, I think we’re saved!” he chuckled as they cheered, not noticing your somber attitude. “Lets go pack our bags! No, we could burn them out here!” Anne clapped, happily.

“I feel tingling, I'm alive again father!” Marie ran over and kissed your father’s cheek.

“We can’t go back into town in this statute, you need to visit the shops, we need to make a list!” Anne squealed as she and Marie ran for parchment. 

“You can come to town with me, show off my successor to dumont!” Your father told Henry, the oldest. 

“I won’t let you down!” They both smiled. “At last, the young man's enemies were defeated, the young man returned triumphant, cheered on by his people!” Your family all smiled at thomas’ ending.

You quickly walked outside to tend to the garden while your sister’s wrote down a list.

Your father noticed as you walked away. He quickly followed and sighed as he watched you quietly pick the vegetables. “What’s the matter with you, are you sulking?” He asked, watching as you dug up a pumpkin. You stood up and faced your father.

“Clearly, if a girl is sad, she sulks, if a girl is happy, she’s mad!” You ranted to your father, placing the pumpkin in his arms and you collected the fruits. 

“Well what do you want us to believe, everyone but you is happy.” He sets down the pumpkin before squatting down next to you.

“I’d like to stay here longer. I like the countryside; it’s peaceful, no judgment.” You sighed. 

“We came to this house to bury our sorrows, our lives aren’t meant to be here..” 

“We both know what will happen, Henry will go back to the thugs he calls his friends, Marie and Anne will go out every evening to find husbands and you’ll be tied to your work again..” You sighed, standing up.

“Y/n, one of these days we’ll go our separate ways, even you will grow up and want to move away.” Your father explained.

Before anymore could be said, your sisters interrupted with the paper.

“Don’t forget a thing, Marie can’t bare it!” Anne sighed, swatting flies away. Your father nods before turning to you. “And what do you want?” He questioned, you sighed and glanced over the garden before deciding. “A rose, I can’t seem to grow any here, no matter how hard I try too!” He nods at your request.

“Very well, I shall return with the items.” Your father walked towards his horse where Henry stood, waiting for him.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“The men arrived at the port to find problems with their wealth; the father has signed the riches over to pay off the family’s debt.” The children gasped.

“Oh no!” The little girl sighed.

“The father had stopped his son from lashing out on the innocent dumont, the eldest stormed off in a fit of rage, leaving the father to follow after him; while searching the father had stumbled into one of the past suitors who pinned after the youngest hand in marriage.”

“Orion Kingsley, highly respected for his time in the war, though now he was considered amongst the town's thugs.” The children’s interest peaked as the illustration showed the man. 

“Is he gonna take his daughter away?” The youngest gasped at the thought. “Well, we’re still in the beginning so who knows.” The storyteller shrugged.

“He questioned the father about his youngest and offered to take her off his hands for a hefty amount but the father refused and continued to try and find his son.”

“After hours of searching, the father left defeated. He let his horse trot to the cottage while he had dozed off for a bit; Somehow while he slept the horse had taken a wrong turn and the pair ended up in front of an abandoned palace.” The storyteller laughed as the children tucked themselves under their blankets tighter.

“The doors eerily opened up by themselves. The father walked in cautiously, he made his way to a dining hall, on the table laid a lavish dinner of all sorts of food, the candles lit up showing the table covered in goods, the man quickly dug in, starved from the ride.” 

“Once the man had finished his dinner, he noticed a corner of the room had lit up, it was a huge chest, he opened and to his surprise it had all the things he needed from the list, minus the rose. The father took the items and made his way out of the palace but stopped as he spotted roses leading to a garden, he quickly walked over and plucked one from the ground, and BOOM!” The storyteller slammed the book, scaring the children.

“A giant soldier jumped in front of the man, the father scrambled, as he went to run away he bumped into a dark figure that towered over him.”

“He yelled at man for being selfish, for the man's punishment he was to return before morning and stay there till his death; A life for a rose..”

The kids gasped.

“If you do not return to me by sunrise, I will go after your family, one by one and I will save your youngest for last, since she is most dear to you! The beast threatened the man..” The storyteller showed the drawings of the man cowering under the beast.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“A story of a beast and a rose? It doesn’t make sense.” Thomas questioned. “How do you explain that? It’s real isn’t it!” Your father motioned over to the chest with everything.

“It’s all our fault! It’s all our fault-!” Marie repeated, Anne smacked her arm. “We’re not the ones who asked for a rose.” Anne motioned towards your frozen state, beside your father.

“It’s no one's fault!” Henry argued back. “Enough! I have no idea who that beast is but I know I must return to the palace in a few hours..”  Your father sighed, staring at the rose on the table. 

“What will he do to you?” The youngest son, Flynn asked. “I have no idea, he said a life for a rose..” You didn’t need to look up to feel your siblings stare, silently blaming you.

“And if you don’t return?” You questioned. “It’s over for all of us…” You all stared at the rose on the table, not knowing what to do next.

The next day had arrived, all of your siblings stayed up to see your father off for the last time, you sulked in your room.

A knock brought you out of your thoughts, in walked your father. “Y/n..” He started, “I know what they all are thinking..” You stared out your small window. 

“What do you mean?” Your father asked. “Mother died, giving birth to me..” You turned to face your father. “I won’t let them blame me for yours too!” Before your father could realize your words you quickly ran out of your room, locking him inside by placing a chair against the knob.

“Y/n! Let me out, Y/N!” Your father called out, Henry looked between you and your siblings who rushed upstairs to let your father out. 

He hesitated, not knowing where to run after. You grabbed your coat that hung up by the door. “Don’t forget me!” You called out before running to take your father’s horse. 

As you rode off, you heard your father call out for you but got stopped by your brothers. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As you approached the woods, you leaned down to the horse. “A life for a rose.” You watched as the horse's pupils dilated before taking off into the forest. 

You tried to shield yourself as he passed through sharp branches, you had managed to gain scratches on your arms. After a bumpy ride you had finally arrived at the abandoned palace your father had stumbled onto.

You hopped off the horse and walked to find the entrance of the palace, while exploring you took note of the amount of overgrown vines there were covering the building and a statue in the fountain. As you walked up the steps leading to the doors.

The big doors opened in front of you. You hesitated before walking in, the doors shut making you jump before looking around.

You followed the vines that lead up to stairs, on the top of the stairs was a door that had a bridge leading to a room, you walked into the room and looked around, the ceiling was covered in rose vines, the four bed posts were covered as well. 

You looked to your left and saw a pond of water in a cove looking area. 

“A life for a rose..” A voice spoke out of nowhere, making you look around for the source. 

After failing to do so you walked over to the bed that had a fur blanket on top, you ran your hand through the fur. You looked up and stood shocked, a lavender dress with swirls embroidered into the fabric. You reached your hand out to touch it but pulled your hand back.

You avoid looking at your scratched up hand, you sighed before turning to the water and walked over. 

Swirls appeared in the water, you leaned closer and dipped your hand into the water, within moments, you pulled your hands out to see them healed, no traces of scratches. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“The girl was ready to die with the first strike of the bell, as she looked around the beasts palace, a noise echoed through her body; Her heartbeat.” The drawing in the book showed a girl in the middle of a ballroom of sorts, in a lavender dress with jewels across her neck.

The second drawing showed the girl lifting a curtain, behind her stood a beast in the shadow on the fabric.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You quietly walked into the dining hall and looked around for anyone and held your breath as you heard footsteps behind you.

“My name is y/n, i’ve come to exchange my life rather  than my father’s..” You explained to whoever stood behind you. “Seat yourself.” The gruff voice spoke.

You noticed two chairs, one on each end of the table. You walked to the chair near the fireplace and sat down, not looking up to your now captor.

He walked behind your chair and spoke, “Eat, when you have regained your strength, you will be able to walk wherever you want on my domain; but when night has fallen I forbid you to leave the palace,” He told you, leaning in as you picked up a sliced potato.

“If I must die, let it be now.” Your eyes watered up. “You’re braver than your father; Each evening at seven bells precisely, you must be here, do not think of escaping. The forest will close in on you.” You agreed, shakily.

As you listened to his terms, you looked towards the silverware gasped, a scared and bruised hand was next to your plate. You turned to look at him but he was nowhere to be seen, scared you ran back to the room for the night. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Shall I stop?” The storyteller questioned, looking over at the children. 

“No!” 

“We need to hear what happened next!”

“I can’t possibly go to bed now, she barely met the beast!”

“Read more please, it’s sad she’s all alone, poor girl.” The storyteller chuckled. “It’s true she was all alone now; As she walked up the stairway, the girl understood for the first time, she was spending the night away from her family and home. What she did not know was that, living in the palace, the beast had servants living in the palace, she didn’t know but they were going to be very helpful.” The kids perked up.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You sighed as you walked into your bedroom and placed the candle by your bedside and laid down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable, it hadn’t taken much time before you fell asleep.

You woke up in your dream, you watched as two girls stared at themselves in a mirror and laughed as a group of hunters returned.

“They’re back!” One cheered. “Shouting, excited and dirty.” The other sighed, you watched as the pair walked over to the men.

You watched as one of the girls smiled and ran towards her husband and kissed him, his friends quickly approached and grabbed him from her. 

“Take your dirty hands off her!”

“Woah!” 

��Ah yes my friend, no stag, no prize for you!” One of them chuckled. The man's wife scoffed, “Are you still after that stag?” The man nodded at his wife. “I’ve hunted it for years, but I know I'm near, luda.” She sighed. “What better trophy, after you?” He grins at the woman.

“He plans on using the cut on the stag.” Luda’s eyes widened at the news. “Ay! I’m thirsty, let's get a drink!” The man’s wife sighed before following the group.

You watched as the room around you changed, it was the room you were staying in but without the rose vines everywhere.

You watched as luda got her hair brushed by a servant. “I mean, he could’ve come back and spent some time with me. I’ve had it.” She sighed, you looked over as the doors opened up. The man from earlier walked in, nodding as the servant excused herself and left the room.

He walked up behind the woman and kissed up her neck, she sighed and turned to look at her husband.

“You smell of game...” He pulled away and stared down at the woman, he picked her up and carried her to the bed and placed her down before kissing her once more.

“My love, I have something to ask of you..” You watched as he sat up to listen to his wife. “I want you to stop hunting that beast.” He paused before sighing.

“What for?” He questioned. 

“I’ve had enough, I've been lonely while you’ve gone hunting..here, without you..” She played with the kefta he wore.

“Agreed, but on one condition.” She nods at his words. “Give me a child of our own.” She smiled softly at him. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You woke up, as you went to wipe your eyes of sleep; you jumped at the sight of a scarred man by your bed, you did a double take but by the second glance he was gone. 

You quickly sat up and looked around the room, a new dress sat in the corner. A turquoise dress with a gold belt. You slowly rose out of your bed and walked over to examine it.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“The girl waited for hours in her room before leaving. She feared seeing the beast jump out from the shadows. But her curiosity was far more stronger than her fear. She wanted to explore the grounds that she is now bound too.” The kids listened as the storyteller flipped the page, only a few yawning before shaking themselves awake.

“A deer had caught her attention, it stopped and stared back at her, almost as if it wanted her to follow, luckily she did so, the deer guided her to a secluded garden, a stone statue in the middle of it all. She walked closer and brushed away the rose petals that had fallen on to the statue’s face.” The storyteller flipped the page to continue.

“To the girl's surprise, it was the same woman as she had seen in her dream, “luda” as the people called her.” The kids gasped.

“The girl froze up as you noticed the facial features were the same. “Luda?” she called out, stood back and stared as if luda rose from the stone; Some years or centuries even, another woman had lived, loved and died in the cursed palace.” 

“Why me? Why do you haunt my dreams?” The girl asked, shaking at her discovery. Without a second thought the girl ran back to her room and waited til dinner with her mysterious jailer.”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“You’re late!” You sighed and sat down in the chair, staring at your hands. 

“Do you like your new dress?” He asked, pacing behind her chair. “Never come into that room again.” You said coldly, he scoffed. 

“May I remind you who makes the rules here?” He said, walking to the chair across the table and sat with his back to you.

“You watched me sleep!” You scoffed at him. “Enough, eat.” He commanded. 

“You’re not eating?” You questioned, picking up your fork. “I said to eat.” He sighed.

 “May I speak or am I suppose to eat in silence like a child?” You inquired. “That’s what you are, an arrogant child.” He remarked. “A child that you watched sleep.” You said before taking a bite of your food.

“You talk too much!” He hissed.

“I know it pleases you, that I'm filling the emptiness..” You smirked into your cup. He scoffs. 

“I do have a question though...whose place is this?” He sighed. “Everything here belongs to me.” 

You both went back and forth. “Resist me all you want, but you will be mine!” He stated before storming out of the dinning hall. You rolled your eyes at him.

After dinner you made your way to your bedroom, you jumped as a figure stood in your room, a woman with ginger hair.

“Who are you?” you asked, slightly confused. “Um, you aren’t suppose to be back early...i’m genya i’m a servant to your kidnapper..” She introduces herself to you, holding something behind her back. 

“How do I know you're not lying to me?” You question, ready to throw the candle if need be. “Uh, you traded places with your father!” She said, holding her hands up to show she was innocent and didn’t mean any harm.

“I just came by to leave you this, I saw on your father’s list he had perfume.” She handed you a tiny bottle of perfume, you looked at the bottle and shook your head and handed it back. “My sister’s requested that, i only asked for a rose but you see how that ended..” You awkwardly chuckled before walking to your bed and sat down.

“Is there anything you’d like to keep you entertained, trust me i know how boring it gets here..” You both chuckled. “I like reading, if that helps..” Genya nodded at the information you had given her. 

“I should probably let you rest now, but i’ll keep that in mind..” You nodded and waved as genya walked out of your room.

Once she was gone, you got undressed and slept in your underclothing.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You looked around and quickly realized, you were in another dream, you looked around to see a ball room filled with people. You watched as luda reached out for the man’s hand.

“My friends, today is a great day, the palace will finally have an heir.” You watched as the people around you clapped at the news. The music started to play, luda and her husband both started to dance around the ballroom. 

“What are you thinking of?” Luda questioned.

“The first time we met, by the river.” He smiled. “You were by the edge, undressing.” Luda snickered as her husband got flustered. “You were about to drown.” He quipped back. “I swim better than you!” She teased, you watched as the pair smoothly continued.

“And if we went back to our room?” He smirked, luda sighed. “Don’t forget your promise.” “Which one?” She gave him a stern look.

“The stag, aleksander.” You perked up, finally knowing the husband’s name.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Once you had woken up you got dressed in a new gown, today it was a dark blue, with long sleeves. Once dressed, you noticed a book on the vanity. You walked over and picked it up.

It had a piece of parchment on the front.

‘Thought you’d like to read, one of David's favorites.’ 

(David is another servant to him..) - Genya 

You smiled down at the note and looked through the book and took it with you outside.

After a few hours of reading on the steps, you got up and looked around the palace some more. 

You smiled as you saw red hair hide away as you turned a corner, you walked closer and tapped Genya's shoulder.

“Thank you for the book! I love it so far!” Genya smiled at you. “I’m glad, sadly the books are the only escape for those of us trapped here..” You nodded as you both walked up more steps, your attention was directed to a group of others laughing as they cooked or messed about. 

“How many are trapped here?” You asked, genya sighed. “Several, stuck here to deal with his temper..” She motions for your kidnapper.

“But ignore that, most of us are used to his temper, we actually were excited when we heard a lady had entered the palace.” She gently bumps your elbows together.

“Well if he chooses to keep me alive, i’ll gladly spend time with you all here, seems peaceful away from him.” You both chuckled.

 - - - - - - - - - - - -

For once you were earlier than him to the dining hall, you sat quietly sipping on porridge. 

As the bell rang out you heard rushed footsteps into the room. You kept your eyes low and watched as the bottom of his coat trailed behind him; He walked over and stood behind your chair. “I’d like to apologize for myself last night, You were right...you do fill an immense emptiness..Do you like my gifts?” He asked, raising a hand towards you.

He sighed when you didn’t respond. “Why don’t you answer me?” He questions.

“I miss my family..” You answered. He scoffs before moving towards his turned chair.

“Forget them! They’re gone, you live with me now” He stopped, besides your chair. 

“It may be helpful for you to turn your back on the past but I can’t.” 

“What do you know about me?” He waited before answering. “Nothing!” “Nothing, you’re right..” You sighed, placing down your spoon.

“I’ll make you a deal, a few hours with my family..” You trailed off. 

“And for what?” He questioned. You stared at your feet. “A dance; in exchange you let me see them..” You proposed, thinking back to your dream.

He sighed. “You’re treating me like a beggar.” 

“I can lead if you’re afraid.” You offered, he scoffed and with a wave of his scarred hand, your eyes were covered by darkness.

Being somewhat of a gentleman, he guided you to the abandoned ballroom and walked you both to the middle before letting go of your hands.

You did a slight curtsy and held up your hand. Unbeknown to you he bowed back before taking your soft palm in his and placed the other on your waist.

You prayed to the saints you wouldn’t step on his feet or your dress, saints know how embarrassed you’d be. 

You quietly moved your other hand up to place it on his chest, perfectly aligned to his heart. 

The two of you waltzed around the ballroom, your gown brushing away stray leaves on the floor. You leaned in closer to him. “You lead.” Without a beat he started dancing with you once more.

 - - - - - - - - - - - -

“The girl felt as if she had stepped back into the dream as they waltzed around.” The kids smiled and got closer as the page showed an illustration of a pair dancing and with the girl blindfolded with some kind of shadow thing.

“They’re in love!” One of the children declared with a grin. 

“Not quite yet; For the first time since being taken away the girl felt at peace with him, as he moved them around she gently laid down her head on his chest, his heart fluttered at the sight of the girl.” The storyteller grinned.

“Does she love him yet?” Another questioned. “Let’s keep reading, shall we?” The kids nodded.

 - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Do you think you could love me?” He questioned, making you snap your eyes open and turn to face him.

Pushing him away, you huffed. “We made a deal…keep your promise..” you stepped back.

Unbeknown to you, he stepped forward towards you. “It’s been a while since I've had to promise something.”

Being upset, you let out a scoffed. “You dress yourself in fine clothing to cover up that you’re just a cruel and lonely beast that disgusts anyone!”

You could hear his footsteps leave the room, leaving you alone with a blindfold of darkness.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

It wasn’t till hours later that genya noticed your absence and while searching the palace that she helped guide you to your room for the night.

Once you knew genya was gone, you got up from the small vanity and opened the door and walked out to the hallway and explored.

As you roamed the palace, you had noticed as you approached the south wing, it had gotten messier.

You could hear two voices coming from a room.

“Just let her breathe for once!” It was genya.

“I have to kill her genya..” 

“..you what?” Genya let out a gasp at his words. 

Before you could hear more, you slowly backed away. Your blood ran cold as your back touched a wooden frame, you turned your head to look and froze at the portrait.

It was an old painting of luda and aleksander with their faces slashed out. The poor couple must’ve had the same fate..

You swallowed the scream you desperately wanted to let out and ran to the main hall where you had first stepped foot in.

As you stepped outside you quickly found your horse. After hopping on you had hoped for a way out of the hell you had been trapped in.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

A frantic David brusted through the doors making genya jump.

“What’s the matter david?” 

David panted, clearly frantic at his news. “She’s left the palace..” 

Genya snapped her head towards the beast who clenched his jaw before storming down to the main hall to find you, it was impossible for you to escape him now.

As you rode your horse through the frozen over lake, you panicked as growling came behind you, with a single glance you felt your hands start to shake, volcra. 

Without noticing your horse bucked you off, making you fall onto the ice, you were too panicked to hear it cracking under you.

As you went to block yourself from a volcra that came sweeping down, a slash cut it in half.

You watched as dead volcra dropped around you. 

You gasped as your savior straddle your legs, your eyes widened, it was aleksander…he was much more scarred then he was in your dreams. 

“Now you know who I am;” He leaned in closer towards your face.

“Tell me again, how i disgust you.” You panted, trying to catch your breath as he leaned forwards, his eyes drifting towards your lips.

As he reached your lips the ice beneath you broke, dropping you into the freezing water.

Unlucky your dress had only weighed you down, you closed your eyes that felt heavy.

Aleksander sighed and quickly reached his hand into the water and pulled you up by your bodice.

He quickly took off his winter cape and wrapped you up and carried you back to the palace.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“The beast gently laid her down on her bed, demanding his servants to help aid the girl.” The children gasped as they listened.

“Is she gonna be alright?” The smallest of the group asked, clutching onto the blanket sprawled out on their lap.

“Possibly?” The storyteller grinned.

“Possibly?!” The oldest squawked.

“You all should really get to bed now…it is pretty late…” The storyteller teased the children by closing the book and stood up from the chair.

“NOW!?” 

“WHAT?”

“NO!”

“I won’t be able to sleep!” Their protests made the storyteller laugh before raising their hands in surrender and sat back down.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You groaned as you opened your eyes to see the beast’s back towards you.

Due to the shock, you had a hard time recalling the moments before, you shook your head as Aleksander's face popped into your head.

You did manage to spot genya with the beast, the pair talking in hushed tones.

Genya smiled soft;y at you, noticing how you sat yourself up a tad.

Genya motioned in your direction with her chin.

You grasped the blanket in shock, it hadn’t been your memories clashing together, it really was aleksander in front of you.

“Leave us be for now genya..” The redhead nodded before leaving the room after placing down some more books.

Aleksander turned to you, if you hadn’t looked up at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the tint of concern in his dark eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright..” You mumbled back.

“That’s good..” He said as he rolled up his shirt, you let out a soft gasp at his forearms.

They had long open scratches on each arm, it was from the volcra..

“Thank you for saving me..”

Aleksander scoffed, moving his hand to hold pressure to his wounds, he had directed his attention to you that the painful stings were hardly there for him.

As he sat down on the vanity chair, you slowly moved from your bed and walked over to the pond of water and grabbed a cloth from the side and soaked it before ringing it out and walked over to aleksander, who had zoned out, his jaw still tensed.

You gently took hold of his arm before dapping the cloth onto the wound.

Aleksander hissed and went to yank his arm away. You huffed and tugged it back before dapping the cloth again.

“That hurts!” He hissed, in pain. His face closer to yours.

“If you stay still, it won’t sting as bad!” You hardened your features and stared at him, keeping the same distance.

Aleksander sighed and stuck out his other arm for you.

After re-soaking the cloth, you softly dapped the outside of his scratches. You both stayed silent. “Thank you again..” You spoke softly, watching how much pressure you placed on the wound.

“You’re welcome..”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As the week passed, aleksander had genya and healers constantly check your health after the incident; in a panic aleksander had placed you on bed rest, in case you had harmed your bones somehow.

The days you had spent lounging in your bed, reading or talking with the others.

You perked up as the door creaked open, aleksander walked in, carrying in two plates of food. You had taken note of how softer he had become with you being injured, for a peculiar reason it had warmed your heart a bit.

“What’s for tonight?” You questioned, placing your book off to the side as aleksander handed you a plate and sat down in front of you.

“Lamb with potatoes..your favorite..” He joked.

You lifted your head letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah, love when it's scalloped too..” You teased, making aleksander grow a tiny smirk before taking a bite of his food.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Aleksander stood on his balcony, watching as you and David strolled through the garden, occasionally stopping to feed the birds.

He watched with a small smile growing on his face as you fell into the snow from bumping into David's side a bit too hard.

He froze as he noticed his own expression, genya glanced over at him. 

“I think I wanna do something for her..but what?” Aleksander questioned. 

Genya smiled at his words. 

“Books.” Genya trailed off.

Aleksander sent genya a confused look. “She likes books, and I believe you have just a room for her.”

He grinned back at genya before nodding to himself.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Close your eyes…” You gave aleksander a weary look as you closed your eyes.

“Don’t bump me into anything please..” You pleaded, making aleksander chuckle before gently taking your hands and guided you down a hall. “I’ll try, very big on the try..” he grinned as you scrunched your nose up.

“I wanted to show you something..” He led you inside his library. 

He left you in the middle of the room before moving to open the long curtains, you scrunched up as the light hit your face. 

Aleksander glanced around the room before nodding to himself, he turned back to you and smiled.

“You can open your eyes now.” 

Slowly you blinked your eyes, lifting your hand, trying to adjust your eyes to the light.

You gasped as you looked around you, it was a filled library. 

“Oh my, it’s beautiful..” You admired the room, glancing everywhere.

“Then it’s yours, you can visit it anytime you want.” You glanced over to aleksander and gave him a smile.

“Thank you, this has to be the nicest thing someone’s done for me!” 

Aleksander watched you explore the room with a subtle smile on his face.

“She could be the one..” Feydor smiled at Genya, who leaned against the doorway as you led aleksander to a bookshelf.

“I hope it’s her, he looks happier with her near..” Genya smiled.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Aww, he cares for her now!” The oldest girl grinned.

“A whole room?! For herself?” The youngest sat on their bed, mouth opened in shock at the drawing of the room.

“The girl and the beast slowly grew closer, even developing feelings, they would constantly be found in the library, the girl reading to the prince often. The girl had realized her new found feelings one day while the pair had gone on a walk through the palace grounds, the beast had given her his kefta to help keep her warm.” The storyteller smiled as the children were in awe of the story.

“The Beast had gladly accepted an invitation to have a dance with the girl. Each had spent hours preparing, knowing it'd be the night their feelings for one another would change. The girl had worn a beautiful ball gown chosen by genya.” The drawing on the paper had shown the girl in a black ball gown and her hair done.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“You clean up pretty well..” You teased aleksander as you walked down the steps into the ballroom.

“Well, you look beautiful in that dress. Genya has good taste..” You both smiled, aleksander bowed before you, in return you curtsied back before placing your hands on his shoulder and in his palm, letting him guide you both around.

You watched with a smile as the bottom of your dress swung around the floor.

You both looked at each other as you both danced around, you occasionally helped him with the dance.

“Just don’t get my toes.” You teased as he pulled you closer. “I’ll try to avoid them..” He chuckled, glading you both towards the big window where the moon hung perfectly.

You both stopped, your eyes going to the lit up sky, while Aleksander's eyes went to your bright eyes.

You glanced over and blushed as aleksander stared at you with a loving expression. You both leaned in closer to one another.

Holding your breath as you could feel his breath on your lips, both of you closing your eyes as you leaned in further.

You both stopped as a bunch of whispers came from the doorway. You both pulled away, chuckling and feeling flustered.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Aleksander stood in the corridor of the library and watched as you sat peacefully in front of the fireplace, reading and occasionally stopping to get a sip of tea Genya had brought you earlier.

As footsteps approached, you glanced up from your book and smiled at aleksander. “Hello, care to join me?” He nodded at your words, sitting down beside you.

“What’s this story about?” Aleksander questioned, scooting closer to you. 

“Maiden in the tower, it’s about this young girl who was kidnapped as a child, by this lady who was secretly thousands of years old. The girl had just found out she’s apparently her kingdom’s lost princess..” You explained the story as you turned the page to continue on.

As you read the reunion of the maiden and her family, Aleksander's eyes wandered from the page to the side of your face that held a bit of sadness.

He hated seeing you like that, knowing it was his fault you were separated from your family. Your eyes continued to move downwards across the page.

Aleksander sighed and placed his hand and lowered the book, gaining your attention.

“Y/n,” Aleksander sighed as he cut himself off.

“Yes?” You questioned, tilting your head a bit.

“I’ll let you return to your family on one last deal..” Your eyes widened at his words.

“What kind of deal?” You questioned, scooting closer to him.

“Promise you’ll never forget about me, I truly wished I had met you under different circumstances..” Aleksander sighed, placing his hand on your cheek, making you lean into his hand.

“I won’t, you were the first who put up with my “childish” self..” You teased, a few tears spilling from your eyes, realizing this was your goodbye. 

“Here, this is for you.” He handed you a small necklace with a small rose on it. You smiled at the necklace and put it on, before pouncing forwards and tackled him into a hug.

“I’ll always remember you aleksander.” You hugged him, making the beast grunt at the strength of your hug, he wrapped his arms around you one last time before letting you go.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You could hardly contain your enjoyment, after months of being apart, you’d finally get to be with your family, it did pain you to leave the palace and everyone behind.

As the horse trotted up to the house, you noticed the boarded up windows, you hopped off your horse and walked closer to the house.

Once closer the door swung open, revealing henry. He tugged you inside the house before hugging you.

The sound of the door had alerted the other, making them rush to see what had happened. “y/n..” Thomas said in disbelief.

You smiled and took off Aleksander's kefta and hung it on the coat rack. Unbeknown to you each of your brothers eyed your dress but stayed quiet.

Your eyes drifted towards the messy table, covered in maps, old food and weapons.

You scoffed and turned to your brothers. “Look at this mess, what are you doing with those weapons?” 

The youngest let out a scoff.

“Ask henry..” Tristan sighed, looking over to the oldest who huffed at him. “Be quiet and go back to your post.”

“My post?” He questioned.

“HIs post?” You looked at your brother with wide eyes before shaking your head.

“So, you’re playing general now, are you?” Tristan egged on.

“Enough, just go back over there.” Thomas sighed, stepping between the pair. 

“Stop taking sides, you big coward!” Thomas scoffed and went to swing but you and henry stopped both boys.

“Look at yourselves!” You called out to the pair, making them stop. “Here, y/n, follow me.” Henry said, walking up the stairs.

You followed shortly behind. Once on the top of the stairs, Henry gestured towards your sister's shared room.

You nodded and opened the door quietly. 

“I just know they’re going to sell us to dirty sailors to pay Henry's debt!” Anne said, groaning hidden behind their loveseat.

“We’ll just say we don’t know how to clean-!” Marie tried reassuring her but the pair froze as they heard your footsteps.

Marie’s eyes popped over the seat and quickly widened at the sight of you. 

“Anne…” Marie gasped out.

“What?” She whispered back, peeking her eyes over the seat too.

“it’s y/n’s ghost, she’s come back to haunt us!” Marie cried out. 

“Maybe we’re dreaming still?” Anne questioned, watching you intensely. “It’s not a dream, i’ve come back with one last message..my dear sisters i loved you both truly.” You played into their frantic state.

“Even dead, she’s pretty..” Marie whispered out. 

“I wanted you to know, i alway thought about you two..” You slowly walked closer to them.

“We thought about you everyday too!”

“It’s Anne's fault, she made me take your room..” Marie pointed subtly to the oldest sister.

You gasped and jumped on the loveseat in front of them. “You what?!” They screamed and jumped back.

You chuckled and looked at the both of them with a smile, “Where’s father?” You questioned, looking in between them.

“...since you left, he’s gotten incredibly tired, hasn’t woken up since..” Anne updated you.

You quickly rushed across the hall towards your father’s room.

You gasped as he laid in his bed, deeply asleep. You walked closer and held his hand.

“Father..I'm home now, you can wake up now..” You whispered to him, but nothing happened. 

You let your tears fall, you carefully laid your head beside his on the other pillow and cried as you hoped he’d wake up.

While you fell asleep upstairs, Henry picked off a golden shank button on Aleksander's kefta. “This is worth hundreds, i could sell this and rid us of my debt!” Henry smirked, placing the button in his pocket.

“Not that, I forbid you!” Tristan protested, standing in front of the door. Henry sighed and looked at Thomas, who looked away. Henry pulled the button from his pocket.

Henry nodded to himself and tossed the button and caught it, he swiftly punched Tristan, making him pass out, Thomas quickly caught the younger brother and dragged him away from the door, they both left him laying on the ground before walking outside.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You looked around and quickly spotted a glowing stag across the lake from where you stood.

“Look at her glossy coat..” You jumped and turned behind you to see the same group aleksander had hung out with in previous dreams.

“It’s finally her time.” One smirked, aleksander scoffed and raised a hand.

“She’s mine alright.” They all stepped back as he watched the animal move around before moving his hands.

The stag froze and looked in his direction before sprinting away.

Aleksander groaned before quickly chasing behind it.

You watched as the animal ran and was caught in the palace garden. You watched as aleksander stood in front of the others and hopped off his horse and walked closer to the animal.

He quickly raised his hands up and used the cut, at the moment it all had clicked in your head. 

You watched as the stag laid on the ground, aleksander approached the stag and quickly froze as the animal revealed itself, there laid luda, a severe cut on her stomach.

You gasped at the sight. “Luda!” Aleksander yelled, running towards her.

She laid on the ground, she slowly raised a hand up to his face and gave him a tired smile. “You didn’t know any better..aleksander.” She shakily inhaled.

Aleksander weeped as his wife died in his arms. “I didn’t mean for this to happen..” He held her close.

You noticed how the sky quickly turned gray and stormy.

“Saints, forgive him, for he didn’t know.” You watched as aleksander’s friends where attacked by volcra, you turned around to face aleksander and luda and watched as volcra started to swoop down and attack him, earing brutal scars to his face and exposed body.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Thomas and henry stood in the snowy forest, waiting for orion to arrive to make a deal.

“You are betraying y/n..” Thomas paced back and fourth.

“I’m saving us, she’ll understand.” Henry’s expresson was stoic as he looked around the forest.

Before thomas could say anymore, Orion rode up on his horse, his men following shortly behind.

“What are you doing here, I thought we were meeting at your little shabby shack.” Orion smirked at the brothers.

“I brought my handsome men for your sisters..” He motioned towards his men which were known as the towns laziest drunks. 

“I have a deal to make with you.” Henry dug the button out of his pocket.

“No more deals with you..” Orion sneered.

As orion and his men went to leave, henry moved towards them more.

“I’ll give you my sister..” Thomas froze at his brother’s words.

Orion turned to face henry, a smirk on his face. “Which sister are you talking about?” 

Henry swallowed harshly, “Y/n, my family’s youngest.” he cringed as orion let out a joyus laugh.

“Perhaps, your sister could pay your debt.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You woke up sweating, you looked around the room and saw your father still asleep beside you, yelling came from the bottom floor.

You quickly got yourself together before walking odwnstairs and froze at the sight of orion who sat comfortably on the small couch, his filthy hands admiring your previously worn kefta.

“Ah, my bride is awake.” 

Your blood ran cold at his words. “Bride?” You questioned. 

Henry walked towards you, moving form where he stood against a wooden pole. 

“You are to be orion’s bride to pay for this family’s debt.” henry gently grabbed your arm, you quickly yanked yourself away from him, orion scoffed and stood up from the couch and stepped closer to you.

“I refuse!” You backed up and bumped into thomas who had a stoic look on his face as he pushed you into orion’s arms.

“Not your choice!” Orion snarled in your ear as he brushed back your hair, making you cringe.

Thomas’ eyes grew wide as a glow from your necklace lit up before dying down to a slight glimmer.

“The forest..” a gruff voiced whispered, making you looked around the room and noticed the lack of orion’s men inside and out.

You took a deep breath before elbowing orion’s nose before running to your horse outside.

“That bitch!” Orion groaned, following you outside as you rode off into the forest.

You shuttered as you rode deeper into the cold forest. The sounds of horses flooded your ears as you glanced up and saw orion and his men.

In a panic, you leaned into the horse’s ear and whispered. “More than life itself.”  You leaned back and watched as the pathed opened up, you ducked as the horse sped up and ran through the prickly tress and frozen land.

As you approached the front, you eagerly hopped off your horse and ran to aleksander who stood outside the palace doors, almost if he was waiting.

He held you tightly as you huffed, tired of the journey back.

“I’ll keep you safe.” He told you, a scared hand brushing over the back of your head in comfort. 

“There she is!” A voiced called out, making you jump as an arrow missed you both. Aleksander quickly lead you into the palace, you noticed the amount of people in the entrance, waiting for aleksander’s command.

“Looks like we have un wanted visitors, take care of them.” He commanded, leading you towards your room.

As you climbed the stairs to your room you caught a glance of aleksander’s grisha opening the palace doors to face the visitors.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“As the beast lead the girl away, gaston had managed to slip through the doors and followed the trail. Outside the palace, saffin commanded grisha to attack two men who approuched the stairs but pleaded for them to give mercy, the two men had kneelded and whispered a name that struck saffin’s soul.

Saffin had froze and got a look of the men and saw the similar features the two shared with the girl, she quickly allowed them to pass into the palace, once in the brothers soon found gaston’s trail.” The storyteller spoke, pausing to flip the page.

“I hate gaston!” The youngest girl pouted in her bed, arms crossed as she listened.

“Is he going to kill the beast?!” 

The storyteller chuckled before shrugging at the children.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

As you and aleksander walked into your room, you gasped as a knife deeply grazed aleksander’s side.

You looked behind his shoulder and saw orion not the far behind. 

You quickly knelt down to aleksander’s side to help aid his wound.

“You’ll be alright we just need to get you to the-!” You gasped as orion held you against himself, a blade against your neck. “Let her go.” Aleksander rasped out as he held his side in pain.

“What are you suppose to be? A lion? A kitten?” Orion taunted, holding the blad closer, the steel pressing into your neck. 

“I’ll kill you if you harm her.” Aleksander warned, you gasped as orion move you and himself into a corner of your room, using your body as a shield aleksander off. “Useless threats..” Orion chided aleksaner.

Before the pair could argue the door opened to your brothers, tristan and thomas who held their weapons in preperation. 

“Y/n!” Tristan said, frantic as he noticed your positon, being used as a shield to a beast.

Thomas pointed his weapon towards aleksander which made you thrust forward but was jerked back. “Don’t, he tried to protect me from orion!” You groaned as orion nicked your throat, making a droplet of blood fall to the floor.

A red rosed blossomed from the bloodstain, you looked at aleksander who’s eyes followed the blooddroplet before lunging at orion, pushing you away and into your brothers side.

You hit you head on the floor but you looked in time to see aleksander use the cut on orion, who before being killed thrusted his blade into aleksander’s stomach, making him crumple over.

You quickly scrambled to aleksander’s side as he laid on the floor, holding his stomach.

“No, no, no, this came happen.” You whispered to yourself as you placed his head into your lap. 

He coughed, blood staining his teeth, you sobbed as he let out a ragged breath. “You can’t die, you can’t..” You cried as he slowly raised his hand to your cheek and smiled as he brushed hair away, aleksander wanted to make sure his last moments were of his last love.

You watched as his breathing slowled down and his eyes got heavier. “Aleksander?” You tapped his cheek twice but no response, you fell forward and weeped.

In the corner of you tears, you saw a trail of glowing light leading toward’s the small pond of water, quickly connecting the dots you lifted yourself up and turned to your brothers who watched in pity as you cried for your lover.

“Help me, please.” You pleaded, thomas and tristan quickly tossed aside their weapons and helped lift aleksander into the pond, you placed your forehead against the edge and pleaded to the saints as he was submerged. The glow surround aleksander’s body.

Your brothers watched in shock as aleksadner’s scars slowly washed off under the water, his wounds began to heal closed. 

Aleksander slowly opened his eyes and looked around in shock, he was alive once more.

He smiled softly as you whispered for him to be healed, he leaned closer. “I believe we’ve missed dinner.” 

You gasped at his voice, quickly raising your head and smiled as he looked back at you, healed from any scars. “You’re alive!” You cried out, hugging him tightly, not caring if your gown got wet.

“Always alive for you.” He grinned, embracing you tightly.

On the outside, the palace overgrown look had started to vanish, the garden being washed over by a wave of light, genya looked up and smiled as she saw the vines on the palace vanish, you had broke their curse to the palace.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You smiled as you and aleksander stepped out onto the ballroom floor, surrounded by other couples.

“Certian as the sun,

Rising in the east

Tale as old as time,

Song as old as rhyme,

Beauty and the beast”

You smiled at aleksander as you both danced. “What is it? Do i have something on my face?” He quickly rised his hand to wipe his beard, making you smile and laugh.

“Is it bad, i want to have your scratched up face again?” Aleksander’s eyebrows rose up at your words.

“Oh? Is that how it is wife?” He snickered, drawing you in close to kiss your cheek.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“They couple had gotten married and had a huge wedding, y/n’s sisters had found husbands amongst aleksander’s grisha, henry had apologized to y/n and aleksander which after a few years they made up. Tristan had taken up being a guard for his sister, and thomas had gone on to write books, several for his children and nieces and nephews!” 

“It’s over?” The youngest boy questioned. 

“Sadly, but I say they lived happily ever after..” The storyteller grinned at the children.

“Genya looks like ms saffin from the book!” a flicker of the lights made the kids turn to the door where you stood with a grin.

“Bedtime check, goodnight munchkins!” You grinned as your nieces and nephews all said goodnight to you and genya before settling down, as you closed the door you heard them talking about the story to each other as a bedtime talk.

“Thank you again genya!” You thanks the woman who smiled and shook her head. “I have to get practice for the newst member.” SHe winked at you before walking to her quarters.

You quietly walked towards your bedroom on the top floor, You quietly opened the door and smiled at the sight.

“Mommy!” Your little boy squealed flinging himself at you from the bed. “My loves!” You smiled as aleksander walked into your bedroom his hands behind his back. “What are you hiding?” You questioned, making aleksander grin as he pulled out a red rose and handed it to you. “Fresh from your garden.”

“Thank you but i believe the garden full of roses are enough of your affection for me.” You teased, kissing aleksander.

As you and aleksander slid into bed with your son in between you all talked for a bit before he asked for a story. 

“Alright, i’m a bit rusty so apologiges but, once upon a time there was a rich merchant.” You smiled at the story and snuggled into the blanket as aleksander sat up to tell the story to your son.

[alicole-sideblog]

Canon-compliant Green family vacation

Daeron is going to Oldtown to be fostered there. Alicent insists on escorting him there herself, and makes a family vacation out of it. Sickly Viserys isn’t up to such travel, so they get to leave him behind.

Here’s the list of events I’ve got so far. I’m looking for more, so if you have ideas, chime in! I want this to be a collaboration post! Please collaborate with me! In particular, the going-there journey is a bit sparse and I could use some help. I also need Daeron anecdotes.

1st leg of the trip: King’s Landing to Tumbleton

They travel by land to Tumbleton, the highest navigable point on the Mander. Horses, carriages, a whole royal procession. They’re traveling on the Roseroad at first, and then take a dirt road that cuts across to Tumbleton.

Aemond, having no dragon yet, is going through a horse girl phase. Until he can get a dragon, he’s going to be the best horse rider anyone’s ever seen.

Alicent isn’t the best rider, but she does have a real fondness for horses. She identifies with them — their big dark gentle eyes; when they sigh and go “brbrbr” and sound so exhausted and put upon.

Alicent rides in a carriage at the start of the trip. The kids are like, “Come out and ride with us!” Criston’s on their side too. Eventually she does.

2nd leg of the trip: Tumbleton to Oldtown:

They travel downriver by boat, and then through the Sunset Sea to Oldtown.

Aegon falls overboard into the river and has to get rescued. This provides an opportunity to make fun of him, and also an opportunity to fuss over him, cuddle him, say, “We’re so glad we didn’t loose you.”

Stopping at every castle along the Mander — Bitterbridge, Longtable, Cider Hall, Highgarden — to spend a night or two and do diplomacy.

When the river turns into the sea, Helaena gets seasick. Alicent and Criston trade off sitting with her at the prow of the ship, and keeping an eye on the other kids.

Alicent pulling Daeron into her lap for cuddles at every opportunity.

Oldtown!

They arrange for baby nerds Helaena and Aemond to get a tour of the Citadel. They love it. Helaena is gifted a bug in amber.

Some Hightower kin shows Aemond the fused stone base of the Hightower and tells him about the competing theories of its history. Aemond is enthralled.

Alicent takes Criston to the Starry Sept. Maybe they redo their vows there?

Otto and Criston meet formally for the first time. Lean into all the meet-the-in-laws tropes for this scene, Otto really grills him. But later in private, Otto tells Alicent that he likes and approves of Criston — he’s been a fan of his since the day he beat Daemon.

Otto meeting Helaena for the first time since infancy, and her becoming his favorite grandchild.

Trip to the Arbor

They make a trip from Oldtown to the Arbor to visit Alicent’s maternal Redwyne kin.

The red tint in Alicent’s hair comes from the Redwyne side. Maybe she hennas her hair before they go to really bring it out? Her Redwyne family like seeing her mother’s traits in her.

Grandma Redwyne is still living. She fusses over Alicent and does the whole, “Oh, you look so much like your mother!” thing and Otto’s like, “I know, doesn’t she?”

Helaena is indirectly named after Alicent’s mother, who was named Elaine (Helene?)

Otto and Grandma Redwyne are mostly on good terms, but Alicent does overhear, once, Grandma Redwyne crying and berating Otto, “Why did you have to take your family with you to the capital? Why couldn’t you have left Elaine and the kids here with me? I would’ve taken care of them, and Elaine wouldn’t have caught the summer fever from that fetid city and she’d still be alive!”

Grandma Redwyne: Where in Dorne is your family from? Criston: *getting really uncomfortable* My mother was born on the coast of the Sea of Dorne. Grandma Redwyne: Ah. I don't know much about the northern coast, only the southern coast. My grandfather was a sailor out of Planky Town. He ran Arbor Gold all over, from Bear Island to Volantis. He never went to the north coast of Dorne, though, never went through the Stepstones. The pirates and all. Grandpa used to say that braving pirates' waters was for men without families waiting for them back home. Criston: *relaxes, smiles*

Return journy: Oldtown to King’s Landing

They travel by ship along the Dornish coast, through the Stepstones, and back to King’s Landing.

If the previous first two segments were the "let's talk about Alicent's family" section, this is "let's talk about Criston's family."

Aemond is sad about loosing his favorite brother. Criston assures him that Daeron will always be his brother. As he’s saying it, Criston realizes that while Aemond’s not loosing Daeron, he is. Daeron will always be their son and brother because blood, but Criston doesn’t have that to fall back on. Being the man that raised them is the only claim he has to these kids. If he’s not that to Daeron, then that’s it — Daeron won’t be his in the future. Criston has just lost him. He calls Alicent over, pushes Aemond off onto her, and then goes and cries in private.

Aegon learns sea shanties from the sailors, and sings them as loudly as he can. Aemond is super annoyed. Helaena surprises the parents by singing to.

Criston spends a lot of time looking at the Dornish coast, off the port side of the ship. At night he has a dream that they’re caught in a storm and shipwrecked on the shore. When people arrive on the beach to help them, he presents himself as a Dornishman and Alicent as his wife.

Sentimentality about Criston’s family as they pass by the Sea of Dorne. “My mother was born somewhere along there. A little village on the northern coast of Dorne.” “Blackhaven is somewhere that way. That’s where my family are.” Getting emotional and praying for his family, who he can only hope are still living since they’re illiterate smallfolk so he can’t write letters to them. The kids saying, “Let’s go to Blackhaven!” and Criston sadly having to explain that it’s an arduous trek through the mountains to get there, it’s not a coastal place they can easily tack onto their trip, people are expecting them back in King’s Landing, etc. Aemond saying, “Ok, fine, we’ll do that trip when Aegon’s king then.”

[jorvikpov]

Slow, heavy hoofsteps thud against the snowy mountain path. The elegant strides of a shining silver mare. The quick, light steps of a rugged pony just barely keeping up. The slow, heavy beats of hooves older than any of you can fathom. The calm, steady treading of a yet calmer, steadier horse. At the front is your horse, whose steps only sound like home.

Dark, rough cliffsides frame the bone-white path in front of you perfectly; the slope only becomes gentle enough for snow to have properly settled on it far above you. Even so, you do not feel trapped, for where the stone walls of the dam once were is now a world only waiting, even begging, to be seen and heard and felt, and you only need to reach out a hand to feel it. The island is eerily still—not a wind along the coasts, not a wave in the ocean, not a trembling leaf in the forests—and you know, now, that this is the calm before the storm. Finality rests on your shoulders, as heavy as the world itself. Each breath you take and each step forward brings you closer to the only moment that has ever mattered. The only moment that ever will matter.

It is the first day in weeks that the sun shows itself. When golden light fills the mountain pass at midday, you climb a nearby lookout point to watch. Never before have you seen something so beautiful. The snow-covered mountains shine so brightly that they nearly blind you, and the inhospitable cliff walls surrounding the mountain pass almost begin to look warm. In the distance, the sea glitters with oranges and golds brighter than you’ve ever seen. In a crevice next to the lookout, a small, babbling brook gleams in the sunlight, somehow still flowing even in the deep, harsh cold.

Jorvik’s winters have always felt special. Now, you feel every tree’s pleasure at the sun’s return, the warmth once again cast upon their cold, weary branches. Every snowflake’s whimsical joy at finally getting to glitter bright golden once again. Every animal small and large stopping for a moment to feel the sun upon their skin. It leaves you awestruck in the same way Jorvik’s sunrise did the very first time you witnessed it. The sun slips back beneath the horizon after only a short while, and yet you feel like the glimpse of warm, golden light could keep you satisfied for an eternity.

Only long after sunset, when you are all far too worn out to keep riding, do you settle down for the night. You still have a long way to go, and it is best to keep up the pace. There is tension in the air; none of you have spoken since before you left, and something is beginning to bubble underneath the surface of the unbroken silence. You wait patiently. You have known since you began your long ride that the Soul Riders will ask you how you knew that it was time. When they finally do, huddled in a small half circle around a makeshift campfire, you answer honestly and without fear, for you feel all the island’s hope within you, and your horse’s muzzle is warm against your shoulder.

Off the coast, something is coming back to life. You have never been more ready to face it.

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

They had come to the tall yews by the gate; it was very old, and flakes of paint and rust came away as he touched it. He had said the sensible thing and it would be wise to leave it there. The huge bulk of the yew-trees was like dark-veined malachite against the bronze-gold sky. He was filled with a vast sense of the momentous, of unknown mysteries. He did not know what he should demand of himself, nor did it seem to matter, for he had not chosen this music he moved to, it had chosen him. "But for me," he said, "I think it would spoil it more to go back." He smiled at Andrew in the shadow of the yews. They looking back, all th' eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate With dreadful Faces throng'd and fiery Arms… Andrew put his hands on the top of the gate and swung it open. His face had a solemn improvising look. He said, …They hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way. Laurie went through the gate, out into the lane. Two great horses, ringing with idle brass, were being led home, their coats steaming in the cool. He felt absolute, filled; he could have died then content, empty-handed and free. All gifts he had ever wished for seemed only traps, now, to dim him and make him less. This, he thought with perfect certainty, this after all is to be young, it is for this. Now we have the strength to make our memories, out of hard stuff, out of steel and crystal; now we can be run through and remember for ever the flash and temper of the blade. The steam of the horses, a good strong russet smell, hung on the air. Sailing in a deep inlet of sky off the black coast of an elm-tree, the first star appeared, flickering like a riding-light in a fresh wind. Andrew walked beside him silently. An eddy of air in the quiet lane brought back like an echo the stamp and jingle of the horses, a shake of the bridle and a snort. …Let us, say, then, that the soul resembles the joined powers of a pair of winged horses and a charioteer. Now the horses and drivers of the gods are of equal temper and breed, but with men it is otherwise…

Another memorable passage. I remember reading it again and again. It has an idyllic, dreamy quality that is hard to match. Mary Renault at her best.

[meaganproperty]

Dreaming of a Home in Jimboomba? Your FAQs Answered Here

Are you dreaming of a home in Jimboomba? You're not alone. Nestled in the heart of Queensland, Jimboomba is a sought-after destination for those looking to combine the tranquility of rural living with the conveniences of modern life. If you’re considering a move to this vibrant area, you likely have some questions. Here, we answer the most frequently asked questions about Jimboomba real estate to help you make an informed decision.

Why Choose Jimboomba?

Jimboomba offers a unique blend of rural charm and urban amenities. It’s an ideal location for families, professionals, and retirees. Here’s why:

Community Spirit: Jimboomba boasts a strong sense of community with various local events and activities.

Natural Beauty: Surrounded by lush greenery and scenic landscapes, it’s perfect for outdoor enthusiasts.

Amenities: Despite its rural feel, Jimboomba is well-equipped with schools, shopping centers, medical facilities, and more.

Proximity: Just a short drive from Brisbane and the Gold Coast, you get the best of both worlds.

What Types of Properties Are Available?

Jimboomba real estate offers a wide range of property types to suit various preferences and budgets:

Acreage Properties: Ideal for those seeking space and privacy. These properties often come with large gardens, paddocks, and even horse stables.

Residential Homes: From modern houses in new developments to charming older homes, there’s something for everyone.

Lifestyle Blocks: Perfect for hobby farmers or those wanting to embrace a semi-rural lifestyle without being too far from town amenities.

How is the Real Estate Market in Jimboomba?

The Jimboomba real estate market has been growing steadily. With increasing demand for spacious and affordable living options, property values have seen a healthy appreciation. Whether you’re looking to buy or invest, Jimboomba presents a promising opportunity.

What Should I Consider Before Buying a Home in Jimboomba?

When looking at Jimboomba real estate, consider the following:

Location: Proximity to schools, work, and amenities can significantly impact your daily life. Choose a location that suits your lifestyle.

Property Size: Think about how much space you need now and in the future. Acreage properties might offer room to grow, while residential homes might be more manageable.

Community: Visit the area and get a feel for the community. Attend local events or talk to residents to gauge if it’s the right fit for you.

Budget: Ensure that you have a clear budget in mind. Factor in not just the purchase price but also ongoing costs like maintenance, utilities, and property taxes.

How Can I Find the Right Property?

Finding the perfect Jimboomba real estate requires thorough research and, often, the help of professionals. Here’s a step-by-step guide:

Define Your Needs: List your must-haves and nice-to-haves. This will help you narrow down your options.

Research Online: Use real estate websites to get an idea of what’s available and the price ranges.

Engage a Real Estate Agent: A local agent can provide invaluable insights and guide you through the process.

Visit Properties: Schedule visits to potential homes to see them firsthand.

Check Market Trends: Stay informed about market conditions to make a competitive offer.

What Are the Benefits of Living in Jimboomba?

Living in Jimboomba comes with several advantages:

Peaceful Environment: Escape the hustle and bustle of city life.

Community Activities: Engage in various local events, sports, and clubs.

Outdoor Lifestyle: Enjoy activities like hiking, horseback riding, and gardening.

Growth Potential: As a growing suburb, property values are likely to appreciate, making it a good investment.

Conclusion

Choosing to invest in Jimboomba real estate could be one of the best decisions you make. With its appealing mix of rural charm and modern conveniences, it offers a fantastic quality of life. Whether you’re looking for a spacious acreage or a cozy family home, Jimboomba has something to suit every taste and budget. Take your time, do your research, and you’ll soon find your dream home in this wonderful community.

[home-decor-design]

The best surf spots in the world

It is believed that the inhabitants of Hawaii were the first to ride the waves using a special board back in the 4th century AD. Nowadays, surfing has turned from an ordinary sport into a real philosophy. It allows you to feel unity with the vast ocean, believe in yourself and get out of your comfort zone. The best places for surfing are extremely popular - there are ratings of countries and beaches around the world that every rider in love with the sea should visit. After all, a dizzying flight on the crest of a wave is one of the few ways to experience an incomparable feeling of freedom.

Ocean Beach, San Francisco, USA

Best time to visit: March-August The West Coast of the United States is famous for its excellent waves, and some beaches, such as Ocean Beach, are ranked among the best surf spots in the world. San Francisco is surrounded by water, and athletes have plenty to choose from. Constant waves and a huge variety of breaks allow everyone to ride, regardless of their level. And in this list, Ocean Beach definitely takes an honorable first place in extreme sports and beauty. Here, giant walls and pipes force you to strain all your strength to stay on the board, and the picturesque panorama of the ocean expanses with the majestic Golden Gate Bridge rising above the water makes you freeze with delight in the pauses between waves.

Jeffreys Bay, South Africa

Best time to visit: May-August J-Bay's epic waves have long been a legend among professional surfers. There are very few places in the world where you can find a pipeline like this, which is a real wall of water reaching 2-3 meters in height. The season here lasts almost all year round, and the epic marine views combined with a pleasant climate and friendly atmosphere make Jeffreys Bay and its famous Supertubes one of the best surf spots in the world.

Popoyo, Nicaragua

Best time to visit: December-April Popoyo is a very popular surfing spot among professionals. A beginner just starting to master the board will have a hard time - hurricane winds on the coast create powerful waves, and the incredibly strong Pacific current can pose a threat to life. However, Popoyo has a relatively calm bay suitable for beginners. Here you can not only learn the basics of surfing, but also ride a horse along uncrowded beaches, relax in a cafe on the shore, admiring the incredibly beautiful ocean landscape against the backdrop of harsh rocks.

Mentawai Islands, Indonesia

Best time to visit: April-October The Mentawai archipelago has 70 islands, and many of them have great surfing spots. Legendary surf breaks for masters can be found on Pagi, Siparo and Siberut - such famous spots as Bankvaults and Macaronis. Beginners will enjoy the calm beaches on the island of Sumbawa, where there are practically no big waves. The Mentawai Islands are not only one of the best surf spots in the world, but also vibrant resorts that rival the beauty of picturesque Bali or vibrant Sumatra. Surfers, lovers of diving, snorkeling and relaxing holidays among enchanting tropical nature come here.

Nazare, Portugal

Best time to visit: October-March The giant waves of Nazaré became legendary after Hawaiian rider Garrett McNamara managed to overcome a wave here that was almost 24 meters high. As a result, Praia do Norte beach has become considered one of the best surfing spots in the world - now the WSL Big Wave Contest is held here every year. Riding in Nazar is recommended only for experienced athletes. And if in the summer even beginners can test their skills, in the winter only real professionals can cope with the biggest waves on the planet.

Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia (Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia)

Best time to visit: December-February The magnificent beaches of the Gold Coast became famous back in the 60s of the last century. The coast's unique waves, which create ideal surfing tubes and walls, began to attract athletes and enthusiasts from all over the world here after the release of the film "Eternal Summer", which became a cult favorite in their community. Most surfers visiting the Gold Coast choose to stay in the Gold Coast, which has become one of Australia's premier destinations due to its excellent conditions for a variety of water sports. The total length of the Gold Coast is about 70 km. There are a lot of difficult areas here, so loved by professionals, and beginners can easily find beaches with relatively small waves. You can ride on the Gold Coast all year round, but experienced athletes prefer to come here during the winter months, when the ocean is especially choppy.

Skeleton Bay, Namibia

Best time to visit: December-April The cold and windy coast of Skeleton Bay is a real test for professionals. Powerful surf that does not allow you to calmly enter the water, sharp gusts of wind and huge waves will bring a lot of joy to experienced surfers who love to fight the elements and achieve victory at any cost. In addition, riding here is quite dangerous due to the sharks that regularly visit the bay. But despite all the difficulties, Skeleton Bay is popular among professionals who love adrenaline. The wave length in the bay can reach 2 km - this place is considered the longest left-hand surf break in the world. An experienced rider is able to ride 6 pipes in a row on one such wave thanks to the incredibly strong current. Due to difficult weather conditions, skiing in Skeleton Bay requires a wetsuit and, from May to November, boots.

Oahu, Hawaii

Best time to visit: November-February The north coast of Oahu is a paradise for surfers who come to Hawaii in search of thrills. It is not surprising that this sport originated here - the huge waves are simply ideal for riding a board. On the list of the best beaches in the world for surfing, Banzai Pipeline and Backdoor Surf are at the top positions. Not everyone takes the risk of skiing here - since ancient times, only true masters have dared to conquer the pipes and walls of the Banzai Pipeline. And now, despite sophisticated technology and modern equipment, the exceptionally heavy ten-meter backdoors of Banzai Pipeline make even world surfing champions nervous. Of the 36 unique surf breaks on Oahu's North Shore, dubbed the "Seven Mile Wonder", this stretch definitely deserves the title of the best surf spot in the world. With plenty of reef flats, the North Coast provides some more great surfing opportunities, including Turtle Bay and Waimea Bay, known for their powerful waves. For beginners, the best option would be to head to the beaches of Waikiki. Unlike most surf breaks on Oahu's North Shore, the ocean here is much calmer.

Byron Bay, New South Wales, Australia

Best time to visit: June-August Cozy Byron Bay is about 70 kilometers of clean sand and powerful waves that do not subside for 12 months. The beaches of the bay are perfect for surfers of any level - both professionals and those who are just starting to learn the basics come here. Beginners should choose beaches patrolled by lifeguards for skiing - strong waves and emerging currents can pose a danger. In addition, you must pay attention to notifications from the coast service - blue jellyfish and great white sharks often swim into the bay. Despite the presence of protective nets, they can reach the coastline.

Teahupoo, Tahiti

Best time to visit: November-April Tahiti is known for its resorts, but the southern coast of the island is most popular among athletes. Teahupu is one of the best places in the world for surfing, despite the fact that the coastline is practically undeveloped and its wild beaches can only be reached by boat. If you don't want to live in a tent, you can stay at one of the surf campsites - for example, Tahiti Beachcomber or Papara Beach Campsite. Giant waves up to 30 meters high are ideal for surfing. Beginners will have a hard time here due to the shallow water - the walls often break, which means staying on the climb and reaching the ridge will be a very difficult task. Despite this, Teahupoo is popular with beginners in June - August, when the winds die down and the waves become smaller, providing an opportunity to learn basic surfing skills.

Uluwatu, Bali, Indonesia

Best time to visit: April-October Uluwatu beaches are considered the best surfing spot in Bali, but they are not suitable for beginners. Not very large, but powerful and complex waves in this region force even experienced surfers to strain their strength. In addition, there is an incredibly strong current here, which makes skiing much more difficult. But if you feel confident on the board, you should definitely come here to try your hand at it. The festive and incredibly friendly atmosphere of Uluwatu, combined with extreme challenges on the waves, will definitely be remembered for a long time.

Florianopolis, Brazil

Best time to visit: December-April Florianópolis has more than 40 beaches, and their total length is approximately 1,500 km. The best surf spots are located around the island's capital, Santa Catarina. Due to the unique climatic conditions, there are waves all year round, and thanks to the vibrant tropical beauty and wide variety of surf breaks, the coast can easily lay claim to the title of one of the best surfing spots in the world. Beginner athletes usually ride on the beach of Barra da Lagoa. There are no strong waves that make orientation difficult, and you can choose between right and left breaks. For professionals, the beaches of Praia Mole and Praia da Joaquina are more suitable, where the waves are higher and less predictable due to frequent wind changes.

Buxton, North Carolina, USA

Best time to visit: December-February, partly May The best surfing beach on the Atlantic Coast of the United States is named after the Old Lighthouse Beach lighthouse overlooking Cape Hatteras. This is an open point break with long and fairly powerful waves that do not require special qualifications. It does not work very often - those who want to ride the wave will have to wait for the westerly wind. The water here is quite cool, so a wetsuit will be required.

Surin Beach, Phuket, Thailand

Best time to visit: May-October Despite the fact that Thailand is not on the list of the best places for surfing, there are also opportunities for those who like to ride the crest of a wave. One of the most suitable places for this is Surin Beach on the island of Phuket. The cozy and very beautiful coastline, almost 1.5 km long, is perfect for beginners. The waves here are small, but quite stable, although there are days of complete calm. It’s best to ride in the evening, when the heat subsides, the wind rises, and the colorful sunset enhances the feeling of unity with nature.

Black's Beach, San Diego, California, USA

Best time to visit: all year round Black's Beach is the most extreme surf spot in California. There is nothing to do here not only for beginners, but also for those who have begun to feel more or less confident on the board. The best surfers in San Diego gather at Black's Beach, and athletes from all over the state come here on weekends. The sharp wind and fast currents create high and very difficult waves that are difficult for even a professional to ride. Another advantage of the beach is the almost complete absence of people, with the exception of small groups of nudists.

Bundoran, Ireland

Best time to visit: December-February Bundoran has a strong claim to being the best surf spot in Europe. Huge waves here can reach heights of 50 m, although in many areas they are much smaller. Such diversity makes this natural corner of Ireland attractive to both professionals and beginners. At Bundoran, everyone can choose a spot that suits their skills - from rough elements to flat, gentle waves. The main thing is to have a warm wetsuit with you, as the water in this region is very cold even in the hot summer months, not to mention the winter when surfers flock here.

Killer Point, Taghazout, Morocco

Best time to visit: November-March The Killer Point surf spot gets its scary name from the killer whales that often swim into the region. Nevertheless, skiing here is still quite dangerous - sharks are found in this area, and long and powerful waves near the shore crash against the rocks. Beginners should go to other spots - there are quite a lot of them nearby, but professionals will definitely like the adrenaline-filled Killer Point. The waves here reach 1.5-3 meters, and the strong and changeable current will add to the pleasure. It is necessary to take into account that despite the hot weather, it is worth having a wetsuit with you - it will protect against sunburn and rather cool, especially in season, water.

Hanalei Bay, Kauai, Hawaii

Best time to visit: all year round Horseshoe-shaped Hanalei Bay has the kind of tropical beauty that can only be found in Hawaii. Wild rocks, a stormy ocean sparkling in the sun and waterfalls flowing among exotic greenery make an indelible impression. Additionally, Hanalei Bay is known for its consistently consistent top tube waves. The bay is large enough to offer areas of varying difficulty. There is a place for both professionals and beginners - which is why Hanalei Bay can easily be called one of the best places in the world for surfing.

Pedra Branca Ericeira, Portugal

Best time to visit: October-May Pedra Branca Ericeira Beach is located about 50 km from Lisbon, next to a small fishing village turned surf town. Now this zone has the status of a nature reserve - the only one of its kind in Europe and the second in the world. Its main difference from most European surf points is several powerful reef breaks, which create huge waves. Only professionals are recommended to surf here - it was in Pedra Branca Ericeira that the first Portuguese surfing championship was held.

Siargao Island, Philippines

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[visittodetroit]

Best Eight Honeymoon Destinations to visit in Detroit

You plan and prepare for months, but once the big day arrives and you've said your 'I do's,' it's time to relax and spend quality time with your other half. Michigan's sandy beaches, spectacular sunsets, breathtaking waterscapes, and small-town charm make it a great location for a romantic honeymoon. These Michigan honeymoon vacation alternatives are affordable and will not disappoint! Plan a trip to this beautiful city of Detroit so book a cheap flights to Detroit and enjoy your days here!

Mackinac Island

Mackinac Island is unlike any other location. Enjoy a relaxing holiday on the island where everything moves at a slower pace (cars are not permitted!). You'll see gorgeous countryside surrounded by water whether you travel by horse & buggy, bicycle, or foot. Immerse yourself in a charming downtown atmosphere, shopping, and as much fudge as you can handle. Stay at the famed Grand Hotel or one of the many unique bed and breakfasts on the island to finish out your honeymoon retreat.

Traverse City

Traverse City is a four-season tourism destination, with winter and summer sports galore. There are many options for your favorite snow activities throughout the winter. Climb the sand mountains at Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore in the summer for stunning vistas of the dunes and forest. After all that activity, you deserve to eat something nice. Traverse City dining will be a gourmet adventure, with plenty of eateries to sample delicious food and Michigan craft beer. Finish your trip with some romantic wine sampling on the Leelanau Peninsula and toast to your new life together.

Michigan's Gold Coast

You can't go wrong with 3,000 miles of sandy beachfront stretching from Saugatuck to Holland and Grand Haven to Silver Lake Sand Dunes. Holland is a small mediaeval town that has a lot to offer. Take a walk along the cobblestone sidewalks or a bike ride along the lakeshore. On this old carousel, ride your horse to the finish line. Windmill Island Gardens is a great place to see windmill blades pinwheel through the sky. This is an excellent choice for a low-key honeymoon in which you want to enjoy one another's company. You'll fall in love with Holland and with each other all over again here.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore is the place to go for an unforgettable experience. This gorgeous location on Lake Superior is up of multi colored sandstone cliffs, beaches, sand dunes, waterfalls, inland lakes, streams, woods, and wildlife. Paddling is one of the greatest methods for the more adventurous couple to experience this lovely beach. To capture the occasion, take a shot together at Lover's Leap. If you have Plan to see Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore visit here, and book Cheap Flights to Detroit.

Michigan Resorts

Nothing sets the tone for a lavish vacation like a Michigan resort. Michigan resorts have it all, from shopping to exquisite restaurants, and magnificent spas to gorgeous mornings along fairways. You can unwind, have fun, and live it up here. A five-star night in one of Michigan's resorts can be a honeymooner's fantasy. Challenge your sweetie to a round of golf on one of the state's many championship golf courses. This sophisticated yet rural hideaway will not disappoint.

Z Lot

The typical first date does not take place in a parking garage, but the Z Lot is not your typical parking garage! With over a thousand parking spots, Z Lot on Library Street is one of Detroit's largest parking garages. Take your date to the top level for one of the greatest (and free!) views in the city. If you're lucky, you'll catch a sunset over the city's skyline. Spend some time appreciating the parking garage itself, which is with over 100 murals created by a diverse group of international street artists.

Anna Scripps Whitcomb Conservatory

A visit to the Anna Scripps Whitcomb Conservatory is a charming and whimsical date idea in Detroit. The conservatory is on Belle Isle and admission is free. The conservatory's outside, with its glass dome, is gorgeous, but it's within that things get spectacular. Spend a day exploring rare flora and animals, including one of the country's largest orchid collections.

John K. King Used and Rare Books

There's something enchanting about bookstores. And if the quantity of books corresponds to the level of romance, you should take your date to John K. King Used and Rare Books as soon as possible. This bookshop is the fourth largest in the country, with over one million books on the premises. It's also a Detroit landmark and the ideal setting to get lost in love.

When you enter the bookstore, you'll be shown a map of the various sections. You can either navigate or leave the map at home and go on your own adventure. In any case, this will be a memorable dating location. Enjoy every bit of everything in Detroit so book Cheap flights to Detroit to enjoy Detroit’s famous cuisine.

[tiptapricot]

Misadventure May Day 12!

Prev

I’ve been doing these pretty regularly but I’ve been forgetting to cross post here sOO!! Bit of a backlog, will try n schedule posts out a bit. Enjoy!!

———

12. Deadly Wound

It was going to be the best trick in the book, sure to electrify crowds from coast to coast, mountain to valley. People loved a thrill, loved waiting to see a bloody ending only to find themselves with a spectacle of skill instead. Sebastían knew they’d love it, he knew how this worked.

Marty said it was impossible, deadly even, but he didn’t know. Couldn’t know for certain what no one’d ever tried. Sebastían weaseled him into it eventually, over a six pack of beers and a good, hard rope show, but they still argued about it right through the whole thing. Through the sweaty days on the backroads with the show horses and Sebastían’s reddened shoulders, and through endless days lassoing in the dust of the ring, the rope snapping up to grab the high beam stationed above the crowd, and through the careful rigging of the saddle to roll loose with a push of Sebastían’s foot.

They argued about it right up to the dress rehearsal.

Marty yelled at him bad, said he’d be pulling out of their group venture at the end of this, that it wasn’t worth it no more. He slammed his fist on the wall and made the dressing rack shake, the sequins making a soft, rustling sound and sending mirrored flashes along the walls.

And Sebastían’s lip curled as he laughed.

He felt hot beneath his collar as his pride rose to his cheeks, stepping forward to jam a ringed finger against Marty’s chest. He told him he could go on his way, that he didn’t matter, that it would always be Sebastían up in lights, always Starr as the star, not Fielding, not Marty Graham Francis Fielding.

He pinched that skin right under Marty’s chin hard enough to make it red before spitting a final, quiet, “Fuck off,” and heading for the door.

He was doing this. He was doing this tonight.

The arena had been dressed up beautifully. Spotlights beamed down above the seats, tinted in blues and reds, and along the edges of the ring hung glittering banisters of gold and green, lighting up the sand. The horses were fresh ones, trained by the best and the smooth, silky, white you wanted to touch.

Sebastían signaled for the sound tech to queue up the music and mounted his ride, easing back into the comfortable weight of the trick saddle. The first notes rung out, high and triumphant, and they were off.

Around the ring once to greet the crowd, around twice to lasso the lightweight dummies in the center and toss them aside, a third for the wooden cutout of a gang to be wheeled in, a fourth for the sparkler gunshots, and a fifth to unhitch the saddle in time with the bang and swing himself off to safety.

One. The tassels on his suit shone.

Two. The rope snapped out, his arm strained, the dummies arced.

Three. The music dipped to a sinister low, he imagined the gasps and boos that would sound out.

Four. The sharp pop cut through the air as sparks skittered across the dirt floor.

Five. The cue shot sounded out and he shifted his heel, feeling the latch unclick and the saddle begin to list. He rounded the stage to the high beam, lasso swinging out to catch it just as Marty joined the onlooking light crew, and—

His boot snagged. There was only a moment he was able to think before his palms were burning against rope and he was being yanked forwards, back hitting the dirt, spur scraping a line of crimson in snow.

His horse whinnied like a shrill son of a bitch and twisted around to rear up, and then the hooves came down.

Then the hooves came down and the great Sebastían Starr—

***

Romero snaps awake in the darkness, adrenaline singing. For a moment he can’t breathe, a crushing weight sinking into his chest and arms, and in a panic his hands rush up to his throat. Only… he doesn’t have one, and he doesn’t need to breathe, and—

Oh.

His hands feel around the rocky point gaping through his stomach.

Ah.

He can’t feel it.

His fingers find the edge of his shirt, pressing down to feel frayed buttons and loose, torn cloth, and he sighs silently. He can still move his legs, his arms, his head, but there is a limp gap in being where he has been violently impaled.

———

Next

(ID in ALT)

[spongythedollyteapartyfan-blog]

“muriels wedding: movie  1995 australian content review without the  words mureiels  wedding  review 

---- ---- is a 1994 Australian comedy-drama film written and directed by P.J. Hogan. The film, which stars Toni Collette, Rachel Griffiths, ...Music by: Peter BestCountry: AustraliaProduction companies: CiBy 2000; ‎Film Victoria‎; ...‎Distributed by: Roadshow Entertainment‎P. J. Hogan · ‎Jeanie Drynan · ‎Sophie Lee · ‎Matt Day  

pre information about  ---- -- curruption and  control in  austrlain  New  south  wales polictis  since 1788 ,  1888

, 1988, 

the  idea, that all the shit hole money and  corruption funnels through  the  shit holes of  austrlaia  , sydney australia, and  the   gold coast  of  australia is the perfect  exaple of people trafficked and controlle din  australia

traafficked  children, involved in the  vcover up oif  austrlain banking  sector and bank regualtions , de regulated so the  governeemt  could control  the  child trafficked industry of   sports and illegal activity, 

and now  Brisbane will have the  2032   olympics, 

well i sure wont be  here when the trafficked peopel arrive in Brisbane  for the   2032 Olympics 

the plot line of  curruption starts in the bank and the   future funds, the  coeeuption  starts in medal relays, sport s events and the  best  students get   harvested

 that  the  gold coast  australia as the most  trafficked  children in  australia

is the  fan base and the  industry of  trafficking is  right here,

of most of the  altheltics displaced and travelled  and  commercialised sale  of atheletes  of  australia, we  have the  national  gymnastics, swimming,  golf hockey football,  league, and  BMX biking in   the state of  Queensland

the white water rafting was alwasy a  Canberra thing, actually  canberra is  the  next  highest ho tbed of  illegal activity  that is legalised, 

the  prime minster  scoott morrison active in illegal activiet  sold austrlain chioldren off,  cos  he is  now  under nvestigation with  a royal crown  review,  held by the  King of  Englansd, into  austrlain active  child trafficking by the  prime minister   trafficked   racing  competition of  other political  mafia  hit men, 

area of australia, as  well Canbera  has the  institute of s sport, which is  convientent as its the  snow, horse riding, running and humidity and  elevation training  centre before they went to  a high  elevation town of  mexico or  even in  atlanta and  when the   winter olympics was in  the highest mountians in americs ,  in salt lake  city,

so,  the plot line of  --- ---  is about the  ABBA life, the fantasitc  , idealation of stalkign songs, which are mostly  the  songs that are  technically  banned by  current  cultral songs, 

currently the  songs which are about the sport and high  achiver idelation are hte  themes, of going  for the win, take the win, 

  the  idoliation of business as a marraige

the theme of  the  fakeness of  marriage as  a device for  fraud,

the  governeemnt owns all fruad

 and how before  1994,  the australian dream was about  being fake, retire to  the  gold coast, the miami , the beach see side  retirement otwn of  Australia

. its how  we  got onto the topic , of  pre  australia, white  australian, 90 % white catholic, christian,  6 room houses  4 bedrooms , one bathroom for  6 people at a  birthday party weekend of typical australain life,  in 1993

depicting  1993 annoucement of  the year 2000 Sydney OLympics in  australia

24 September 1993 Breadcrumbs politics.

it is all tied  together, the politics and  curruption and child trafficked  athletics 

 International Olympic Committee (IOC) President Juan Antonio Samaranch memorably announced on 24 September 1993 that Sydney would host the Games of the XXVII Olympiad in 2000. At their conclusion, in September 2000, he proclaimed them to be 'the best Olympic Games ever'  

the plot line is  about  a young australain couple who fke fall in love and the internaitonal attention of  the popularity of  being  autralian in time to  be australian in time to  be ready for the  summer olympics

and he  curruption happens

so over all in the  7  years since  the  movie was  made, released and the  summer olympics  happened in  year  2000

over,  400  athetes  from overseas wanted to   deffect

beacuse to  be a fke  australian  was  a 10  quesiton   tst  to  know  about  australia, 

defect  form their  own country to  be a fake  british,  american canandian australia, which over the past 7  years,  form 1993 to  2000,  200 countries  changed  governeemtns   7  times,  and  also in australai,we were so  fake, our politiicans  could  even get their  dicks out of politics, the last governer general hea dof   law in australia is  now   written off and wa sinvleved in the   cocains  chiold  traficking industry more then the  high court  judgesin  actual austrlaia, 

  since  1993, no   serving prime miniter or elected official  has  served a  full term in office  sicne  1993,, the  past primininisters  requires sex with the best althetes over the pat 50  years,  peopel tried ot  leave the    traffiked  culture 

even,  every  chilkd wants to leave, but the parents tlel us its the  way its the way to  be  taken its the  australian way to  be  taken by the bank  mamager the sport of    traffiking , we  couldn t  even  escape it  at age  30, age 40

sort of  seripus, that  the theory for  curruptions, politics and 2000 olympics, in a movie  made after the  1993  announcement that  Sydney  would get  the  olympics topic of   austrlain curruption,

and then, now,  23 years after the quick build of the   games venues, was that none of the buildings   are up to  2023 standasrds because they  were palanned in 1993, but  built in 1999 , built in  1  year  before the olympics,  and the concrete and  metal and  pre fabicated  construction was so underfunded and  deplorable, that, the  buildings were demolished in  2015

and  here we ar ein Brisbane we  have  7  years itl  2032  olympics,and we are  here having poeple tell  the  austhorities ot keep the old   year  1982  venues , 

the building are  100 years old now

the idelaisation of the old system 

the bank  secotr, and the   insurance, 

the management of  the  trafficked  curruption

effected the  time lien of   substandard busildings, 

which sort of  represents the  ideal of the plot line of the movie, syndey the  great curroptions  land  of  australia

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Catelyn V (Chapter 39)

Two days ride from Riverrun, a scout spied them watering their horses beside a muddy steam. Catelyn had never been so glad to see the twin tower badge of House Frey.

+.+

Without siege engines there was no way to storm Casterly Rock, so the Young Wolf was paying the Lannisters back in kind for the devastation they'd inflicted on the riverlands. Lords Karstark and Glover were raiding along the coast, Lady Mormont had captured thousands of cattle and was driving them back toward Riverrun, while the Greatjon had seized the gold mines at Castamere, Nunn's Deep, and the Pendric Hills.

Robb, I’ve read the author’s interviews, I would advise against this.

+.+

"How did the king ever take the Tooth?" Ser Perwyn Frey asked his bastard brother. "That's a hard strong keep, and it commands the hill road."                 

"He never took it. He slipped around it in the night. It's said the direwolf showed him the way, that Grey Wind of his. The beast sniffed out a goat track that wound down a defile and up along beneath a ridge, a crooked and stony way, yet wide enough for men riding single file. The Lannisters in their watchtowers got not so much a glimpse of them."

Oh great, Robb’s warging, and using it to gain a competitive advantage.

I would advise against that as well.

+.+

"He's not. Robert was never the rightful king either, even Renly said as much. Jaime Lannister murdered the rightful king, after Robert killed his lawful heir on the Trident. Where were the gods then? The gods don't care about men, no more than kings care about peasants."

"A good king does care."

"Lord Renly . . . His Grace, he . . . he would have been the best king, my lady, he was so good, he . . ."    

Oop, another mention of rightful Targaryen kings.

Goodness Brienne, Renly did not care about peasants. She’s so much like Sansa with her little misguided crush. 🥺

+.+

The question seemed to trouble Brienne. "You helped me. In the pavilion . . . when they thought that I had . . . that I had . . ."          "You were innocent."     "Even so, you did not have to do that. You could have let them kill me. I was nothing to you."

Perhaps I did not want to be the only one who knew the dark truth of what had happened there, Catelyn thought. 

You can’t help but feel a little uneasy over Brienne entering into Catelyn’s service without knowing what partly motivated her in saving Brienne.

+.+

"No, but you have courage. Not battle courage perhaps but . . . I don't know . . . a kind of woman's courage. And I think, when the time comes, you will not try and hold me back. Promise me that. That you will not hold me back from Stannis."

Catelyn could still hear Stannis saying that Robb's turn too would come in time. It was like a cold breath on the back of her neck. "When the time comes, I will not hold you back."

cold breath on the back of her neck 👎

It’s not ideal that Catelyn has a vested interest in not holding Brienne back. Not ideal at all. She’s not your weapon, Lady Stoneheart.

+.+

The tall girl knelt awkwardly, unsheathed Renly's longsword, and laid it at her feet. "Then I am yours, my lady. Your liege man, or . . . whatever you would have me be. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours, if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

"And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table, and pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise."

pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor

It’s all wrong! From the start, it was always off! We need a redo! Sansa fix it!

+.+

"Nothing from Bitterbridge. From Storm's End, three birds from the castellan, Ser Cortnay Penrose, all carrying the same plea. Stannis has him surrounded by land and sea. He offers his allegiance to whatsoever king will break the siege. He fears for the boy, he says. What boy would that be, do you know?"

"Edric Storm," Brienne told them. "Robert's bastard son."

(...)

He risks all for a baseborn boy whose blood is not even his own, Catelyn thought. "Did you send him an answer?"    

We’re back! We had gone way too many chapters without getting slammed in the face with RLJ.

+.+

"Who are these men you've hanged?"

Edmure glanced up uncomfortably. "They came with Ser Cleos when he brought the queen's answer to our peace offer."

Catelyn was shocked. "You've killed envoys?"

"False envoys," Edmure declared. "They pledged me their peace and surrendered their weapons, so I allowed them freedom of the castle, and for three nights they ate my meat and drank my mead whilst I talked with Ser Cleos. On the fourth night, they tried to free the Kingslayer." He pointed up. "That big brute killed two guards with naught but those ham hands of his, caught them by the throats and smashed their skulls together while that skinny lad beside him was opening Lannister's cell with a bit of wire, gods curse him.

Guest right works both ways; neither the guest nor the host can harm the other. Here’s an early glimpse of how little all Lannisters care about that.

"So much for guest right." - Tyrion Lannister (Tyrion VI, ASOS)

So much, indeed. Asshole.

+.+

This was the Imp's work, Catelyn suspected; it stank of the same sort of cunning he had displayed at the Eyrie. Once, she would have named Tyrion the least dangerous of the Lannisters. Now she was not so certain.

Catelyn, please be serious. The way you can tell it was the Imp’s work was that it failed.

+.+

"How is it you caught them?"                 

"Ah, as it happened, I was not in the castle. I'd crossed the Tumblestone to, ah . . ."

"You were whoring or wenching. Get on with the tale."                 

Edmure's cheeks flamed as red as his beard. "It was the hour before dawn, and I was only then returning. When Long Lew saw my boat and recognized me, he finally thought to wonder who was standing below barking commands, and raised a cry."

Edmure, you little slut!

Guys, GUYS. A lowly sex worker ruined all of Tyrion’s plans! Lmaooo

+.+

Hundreds of smallfolk had been admitted to the castle, and allowed to erect crude shelters against the walls. Their children were everywhere underfoot, and the yard teemed with their cows, sheep, and chickens. "Who are all these folk?"     

"My people," Edmure answered. "They were afraid."                 

Only my sweet brother would crowd all these useless mouths into a castle that might soon be under siege. Catelyn knew that Edmure had a soft heart; sometimes she thought his head was even softer. She loved him for it, yet still . . .

Pragmatic Catelyn vs Edmure’s big heart. You always need a little of both.

+.+

"Robb's won his battles against worse odds," Edmure replied, "and I have a plan. You've forgotten Roose Bolton. Lord Tywin defeated him on the Green Fork, but failed to pursue. When Lord Tywin went to Harrenhal, Bolton took the ruby ford and the crossroads. He has ten thousand men. I've sent word to Helman Tallhart to join him with the garrison Robb left at the Twins—"

"Edmure, Robb left those men to hold the Twins and make certain Lord Walder keeps faith with us."

+.+

Bolton needs Frey's men, and Ser Helman's as well. I've commanded him to retake Harrenhal."                 

"That's like to be a bloody business."

"Yes, but once the castle falls, Lord Tywin will have no safe retreat. My own levies will defend the fords of Red Fork against his crossing. If he attacks across the river, he'll end as Rhaegar did when he tried to cross the Trident. If he holds back, he'll be caught between Riverrun and Harrenhal, and when Robb returns from the west we can finish him for good and all."                 

Her brother's voice was full of brusque confidence, but Catelyn found herself wishing that Robb had not taken her uncle Brynden west with him. The Blackfish was the veteran of half a hundred battles; Edmure was the veteran of one, and that one lost.

"The plan's a good one," he concluded.

It is a good plan, based on the information he has.

Bloody business, ughhh.

+.+

"It was best," her father whispered. "Jon's a good man, good . . . strong, kind . . . take care of you . . . he will . . . and well born, listen to me, you must, I'm your father . . . your father . . . you'll wed when Cat does, yes you will . . ."                 

He thinks I'm Lysa, Catelyn realized.

(...)

"That stripling . . . wretched boy . . . not speak that name to me, your duty . . . your mother, she would . . ." Lord Hoster cried as a spasm of pain washed over him.

(...)

She wondered who Lysa's "wretched stripling" had been. Some young squire or hedge knight, like as not . . . though by the vehemence with which Lord Hoster had opposed him, he might have been a tradesman's son or baseborn apprentice, even a singer. Lysa had always been too fond of singers. I must not blame her. Jon Arryn was twenty years older than our father, however noble.    

Catelyn, you need to go have a meal and rest. This shouldn’t be difficult for you.

Love that she’s giving her sister a pass, hahahaha. 

+.+

Bones, Catelyn thought. This is not Ned, this is not the man I loved, the father of my children. His hands were clasped together over his chest, skeletal fingers curled about the hilt of some longsword, but they were not Ned's hands, so strong and full of life. They had dressed the bones in Ned's surcoat, the fine white velvet with the direwolf badge over the heart, but nothing remained of the warm flesh that had pillowed her head so many nights, the arms that had held her. The head had been rejoined to the body with fine silver wire, but one skull looks much like another, and in those empty hollows she found no trace of her lord's dark grey eyes, eyes that could be soft as a fog or hard as stone. They gave his eyes to crows, she remembered.

(...)

"Make certain the sisters have fresh horses, and aught else they need for the journey," she told Utherydes Wayn. "Hal Mollen will escort them back to Winterfell, it is his place as captain of guards." She gazed down at the bones that were all that remained of her lord and love.

Oh Catelyn, why did you look? You were not ready to look.

Hal Mollen’s adventure starts! Where are you, friend?

+.+

The women in grey bowed their heads. The silent sisters do not speak to the living, Catelyn remembered dully, but some say they can talk to the dead.

Final thoughts:

At some point during AGOT, my stomach started to drop whenever I turned the page and saw Ned had the next chapter. No enjoyment, only dread.

I have officially reached that point with Catelyn. I’m running out of POVs I look forward to, fam.

How much longer do I have before Ygritte? 😭

-> return to menu <-

[anonniemousefics]

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Chapter Three

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Synopsis: Based on the response to this post. :) Jude’s not sure what she expected motherhood to be like, but it isn’t this.  

(SO MUCH FLUFF HERE. Really. Just. The fluffiest. I can’t help myself.)

Chapter Three: The Third

I think maybe I am meant to be a cautionary tale, not a happy ending.

I think that someone who has manipulated and lied and schemed as much as I have is destined only for tragedy.

And now it’s finally come for me.

I think this over and over again, like a spell I’m chanting to grant myself some measure of grim acceptance, while Cardan and I ride a ragwort horse all the way to the mortal realm. It’s the best course of action we can come up with in the moment of panic.

The moment I knew we were facing a potentially devastating complication, I wanted – no, needed – a human doctor.

Pregnancy is rare among the Folk, and I now find I’m not interested in trusting faerie midwives with a decidedly human condition. If there is something wrong with me, or with our baby, I want to know what it is, everything about it. I don’t trust anyone who might want to strike a deal for my child’s wellbeing or concoct some potion that, while saving the pregnancy, also gives our baby a third eye or snaggle-teeth or an appetite for blood. I’m also having flashbacks of a conversation long ago with Oriana, when she divulged details of Oak’s horrific birth. How there’d been complications that had cost Liriope her life. How Oriana herself had carved the baby out of her friend’s stomach.

I shudder hard at the recollection and press my cheek hard against Cardan’s back as we ride, my face between his shoulder blades. Hard pass. On every bit of that. Just – one massive hard pass. We are finding a real doctor.

Cardan didn’t even argue. Though he insisted it was time to tell The Court of Shadows, if only for safety reasons while we made an unannounced, unplanned emergency run to the mortal realm.

Nothing goes like either of us had hoped. There are no tears of joy. There are only tight, grim expressions and tense words while plans are made. How we will prevent our enemies from learning of the child and our absence. How we will remain protected while among mortals.

I have hardly a word of help to offer, and that alone is horrifying. I have always schemed and survived – it’s what I am. But there, instead, I can only sit with a hand at my flat stomach, my sole focus on willing this little rebel in me to hear her mother’s first command.

Don’t go. Please. I love you.

Please stay.

Please.

I’ve resented this for weeks, and now I’m begging for the nausea, the aches, the exhaustion to stay – all of it. Any reassurance that I’m not losing this newfound love before I’ve even really gotten to know it.

But I also wonder if I should just accept fate. I have always felt from the beginning that I did not deserve this. That I am stealing a happiness that I have not earned.

“How are you faring?” Cardan asks me over his shoulder, the whine of the wind in my ears. We’re somewhere over the sea, jostled by the roll of the ragwort horse’s gallop beneath us.

“The same,” I answer. Sick. Dizzy. Terrified of what comes next. Unconsciously, I grip his body to mine harder. He’s tense, every muscle on edge. This is unlike any journey we’ve made yet. There’s nothing to fight, and still everything to lose.

“Nearly there,” says Cardan, but it sounds like he’s saying it more for his own benefit. He hates the journey over the sea, the precariousness of ragwort horse travel. I’m not in any state to offer reassurances, or even tease him to lighten the mood.

Sure enough, the clouds part, and the city lights along the coast of Maine wink up at us. It’s evening, and dark beneath a heavy rain cloud, and as soon as we’re low enough, we’re being pelted with sheets of rain. By the time the ragwort horse alights its oaken-hooves on the pavement, Cardan and I are both soaked to the skin.

We dismount, invisible beneath a glamour, at the far end of a hospital parking lot. The sign at the entrance glows with a red cross and the name, Down East Community Hospital. It was the best I could think of to do at a moment’s notice: instruct the ragwort horse to find us an emergency room.

I wrap my arms around myself as Cardan holds out a hand to gather up the horse. The leaves of its mane and the bark-like coat of its body begin to curl in on itself, like a plant rolling in on itself for the night. A moment later, it’s only a few leafy twigs that Cardan can hide in his pocket.

We both look absurd, and I’m just now realizing it. We look like we’ve just run out of a community theatre dress rehearsal for a low-budget melodrama. Cardan’s tried to dress down, but he’s still Cardan, and he’s wearing tight black trousers and tall boots over his calves. He’s thrown one of the zip-up hoodies I keep in my wardrobe for trips to the mortal realm over a loose white shirt. He also must have been feeling particularly festive this morning after last night’s romp, and he’d gone and added a bit of kohl to his eyes before I’d woken up and shit hit the fan. And he’s still wearing gold rings all over his fingers and in his pointed ears. Combined with his soaked, inky hair, he looks a bit like a member of an 80’s rock cover band who’s recovering from being pushed into a pool.

It’s kind of nice. He rarely looks a mess. It makes me feel like we’re in this together, at least.

For my part, I didn’t let Tatterfell braid my auburn hair today, and now it’s just long and windblown, so I’ve tried to pull it all to one side to keep it managed. I’m wearing a simple pair of brown trousers with little silken flats that were my least flashy pair of shoes. I’ve got a shirt and olive-colored vest on beneath a hoodie similar to Cardan’s that was supposed to keep me warm, but now it’s sopping wet.

We both pulls the hoods on our sweatshirts up over our heads as we make a mad dash for the automatic sliding doors of the ER, racing against the onslaught of rain. Once we’re inside the vestibule between sliding doors, I stop a moment to grab Cardan’s arm and gather myself. He puts a bejeweled hand over mine, his expression tightened in concern.

“I’ve never done this before,” I confess, breathless. Hospitals, emergency rooms, doctors. It’s all foreign to me.

“I’ve done it even less.” Cardan’s looking more pale by the minute. The rising terror in both of us is palpable.

“I should call Vivi,” I spout, and Cardan’s nodding furiously in agreement, for once graciously not pointing out how he’s been saying this very thing for weeks.

But when I look around, there’s not a phone in sight. There’s only a poorly lit waiting room on the other side of the glass vestibule, and bored-looking nurses waiting at intake windows. Shit. Shit. How do mortals do this? How to they get treatments for mortal ailments and weaknesses and not fall to pieces fretting over their inherent, inevitable vulnerability in the process?

Suddenly, the surety of immortality is looking rather cowardly by comparison.

“Maybe one of the nurses will let me commandeer a phone,” I mutter, and I let my fingers slide from Cardan’s arm to his hand. My palm is starting to sweat when he laces our fingers together, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

The glass door to the waiting room slides with a hissing whisper, and inside there are people crowded in the cheap chairs lining the walls. Somewhere, a toddler is wailing out of sheer boredom while the evening news anchors jabber on a TV mounted in the far corner above a potted plant. Cardan’s already drawing stares with his ominous, messy appearance. He found a beanie in the pocket of the sweatshirt to cover the pointed tips of his ears, but there’s still kohl streaking his prominent cheekbones. I’m gonna need to clean him up at some point.

Right now, all I’m focused on is slipping into the first open intake seat and figuring out how in the hell I’m going to see a doctor for the first time in my mortal life. I am going to be brave. I have trained for nothing less.

“Hi, how can we help you today?” says a warm-looking middle-aged nurse behind the desk. She has short grey hair and floral scrubs, and a pair of readers perched on the bridge of her nose. Her badge says her name is Josie.

“Um.” My mouth feels dry, but I push on anyway. “I am—I am pregnant, and, um, I’m having some…” I draw in a shaking breath. Why is this so hard? “Some bleeding. I think I need to see a doctor right away.”

“Of course, honey,” Josie says, and peers over her readers. “Have you spoken with your OB?”

“I don’t have one,” I shake my head, my face starting to flush as Josie’s concern increases. I’ve never felt like I belonged in the mortal realm, and it’s never felt more apparent that I’m an outsider.

“Okaaay,” Josie says, slowly, adjusting her readers as she turns to her computer. “Let’s get you registered. Name?”

I hesitate again. I’ve never given my name in any sort of official capacity here among mortals. Especially not since I’d gotten married. What do I want to be called?

“Jude Duarte-Greenbriar,” I hear myself answer. From the chair beside me, Cardan titters a little amused laugh to himself and then bites it back when I shoot him a look. He likes the sound of it, too.

“Okaaay,” Josie says again, pecking at her keyboard. “I’m gonna need you to spell that for me, honey.”

I appall Josie further as the registration process yields the fact that I have neither a driver’s license nor an insurance card. With each of Josie’s judgmental sighs, I can sense Cardan stiffening with repressed irritation next to me, and it’s only stressing me out more. I should have had a talk with him first about promising not to curse anyone. I’m half-expecting Josie to sprout cat ears at any minute.

“While we can’t legally decline services based on insurance,” Josie says, doing little to suppress her concern, “I will need you to sign this agreement that says you understand that, since you are not presenting insurance today, you will be personally responsible for the entire cost of today’s visit.” And she shifts a clipboard toward me.

“Oh, look, love,” Cardan suddenly chimes in. He slides a wet leaf from his pocket across the registration desk as his voice takes on the heady, dangerous quality of magic. He’s conjuring a glamour. “I think you can see all of the insurance information you require here.”

“Oh, good, you found your card!” Josie exclaims, delighted, as she takes the leaf and begins happily clacking away at her keyboard.

“Do not get carried away,” I hiss at Cardan while Josie’s distracted. “That should be a one time thing.”

But Cardan just slits his kohl-lined eyes at me, looking like the smug bastard he’s always been, and leans an elbow on the registration desk, throwing Josie a coy smile. The glamour in his voice when he speaks again is just as sinfully seductive.

“And Josie, my sweet,” he says, “you’ll let my wife borrow your phone to speak with her sister, won’t you, dearest?”

“Of course, Mr. Greenbriar,” Josie replies, with the charmed-sweet smile of the glamoured. She shifts her desk phone to me, handing me the handset. “Just press nine for outgoing calls, honey,” she tells me.

I’m frowning at Cardan’s wicked smirk as I accept the phone.

“I don’t think that was entirely necessary,” I whisper to him while Josie types away. He grins at me. I don’t really want to admit that he’s just been pretty useful, and he knows it.

Regardless of how ill-gotten this privilege is, I do need Vivi. I dial her cell phone, one of two numbers I know, and wait while it rings.

And rings.

And rings.

“She might be screening her calls,” I say to Josie, sheepishly. “Her father is…” Oh, how to describe what Madoc is like these days. “…over-bearing and tricky.” And I hang up and try again. Josie gives a tight, uncomfortable smile, peering over her readers.

“You are not concerned about how unusual this is,” Cardan tells her, the glamour dripping off his voice, and I smack his arm to get him to stop. Josie settles again as the phone keeps ringing.

I have to hang up and dial two more times before Vivi finally picks up. She sounds irritated when she answers.

“Vivi, this is Jude,” I say, slumping in relief that she’s finally answered.

“Jude? Seriously? What?” The annoyance in her voice vanishes as she’s scrambling to understand. “You’re calling me? Where are you? Are you ok?”

“I’m at the Down East Community Hospital emergency room,” I say. “Can you come?”

“Oh, my God.” It sounds like Vivi’s suddenly frantically looking for her keys. “Yes, I’m coming. I’ll be there. Why are you there? What’s going on?”

“It’s a lot to explain over the phone,” I say, slowly, white-knuckling the handset. “I’m ok, and Cardan’s here, but I just really need you.” I hate it more than anything, but I can’t keep the frightened younger sister out of my voice now that I’m actually talking to Vivi about this. The first rush of relief hits me when Vivi replies without hesitation:

“Ok. It’s gonna be ok. I’m on my way.”

I let out a long breath as I hand the phone back to Josie.

“The nurse will call you back when they’re ready for you,” says Josie, and gestures to the crowded waiting room. “Have a seat.”

“Or--” Cardan starts, leaning forward, and I know he’s about to throw out another glamour to speed things along. In the blink of an eye, I clap a hand over his mouth before he can say another word.

“Thank you,” I tell Josie, through a gritted smile, and urge Cardan to move along.

“Your moral stance on glamours ought to have a loophole where our child is concerned,” Cardan gripes as we shuffle to the nearest available two chairs.

“You Folk are like addicts with glamours,” I snap back as we take a seat. “You don’t know when to stop.”

“I believe I’ve proven myself capable of great restraint,” Cardan says, looking miffed for a moment until a People magazine on a nearby table catches his eye and his curiosity of mortals gets the better of him.

He has the right idea, I think. Distraction would be the key to getting my mind off the blood and not falling apart right now. I’ve done everything I can at this point, and now we must wait.

I busy myself for a moment by wrapping the cuff of my sleeve over my fingers and wiping off the rain-splattered streaks of kohl off Cardan’s face, so that the father of my child looks less like the troubled D-list celebrities his People magazine is trashing. He’s not drawing any less attention, but there’s not much either of us can do about that. If you’re not accustomed to the allure of the Folk, it’s nigh impossible to not stare and stare and try to decipher what it is about them that’s so otherworldly. But at least now they’re staring for the right reasons and not at his ruined eyeliner.

With nothing more at arm’s length to distract me, I rest my head against the wallpaper behind me and let my vision go unfocused in the general direction of the TV in the corner. I don’t want to think about the whining toddler in the room, who’s mad at his mother for not bringing the right stuffed animal with them to the hospital. What would I do with a half-human child in Faerie who fell ill or wounded? What would we do? Would the land let Cardan heal him? Would we have to make this journey again? What if I forgot the right stuffed animal, too??

Amazing that I’m suddenly assuming this child is going to survive whatever’s happening now, I realize, and this worry spiral is helping no one.

Once upon a time, I’d been the girl determined to become a thing feared. What has happened inside me, that I’m now this terrified woman? I hate it. I hate it, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“You’re not afraid of that everything will change?” I remember asking Cardan, three moons ago. I had thrown out the last of my birth control that day. We’d snuck away from a revel to lie beneath the massive tree that grew out of the top of the palace of Elfhame, staring at the stars above and dreaming of what they could hold.

Cardan looked to me, his hands behind his head in the loam, his crown slightly askew. He smiled, and the moonlight made him almost too beautiful to bear.

“I cherish every change you’ve ever brought me, Jude,” he said, and he stretched out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers softly lingering at its rounded edges. “I don’t see why this should be any different.”

“You’ve not always felt so gracious about the changes I’ve foisted upon you,” I pointed out. “And you don’t get to exile me now if my parenting pisses you off.”

I’m not sure what I thought he’d think of such a statement, but it was out in the night air anyway. His gold-rimmed eyes darkened as he pulled his hand back, folding it over his chest. I watched him as he stared up at the stars again, waiting for his response, and with each second, regret began to sink in.

“I consider myself fairly thick-skinned,” he said at last, “but that was uncalled for.”

“I was teasing--” I started, but he shot me a dark look.

“There was a measure of truth in your voice,” he countered. “You don’t lie as well as you think you do.”

“I don’t see what you’re so put out about,” I huffed, pulling back to glare at the night sky. “You weren’t the one living in exile.”

“Not this again,” Cardan groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Five years, Jude. It’s been five years,” he sighed into his palms.

“And now we’re discussing children, and it’s a very large and potentially aggravating change,” I said. “Maybe I am a little wary.”

“Of me?” The moment I saw the unguarded devastation on Cardan’s face, it was like I’d slapped him, and not in the fun way. I wanted to be swallowed down by the loam, covered in a grassy grave. Everything about this was awful. I wanted children with this man. Why was I dredging up ancient history?

But Cardan had been right. There’d been a measure of truth to it. It’s been a deliriously wonderful five years, but we are not entirely new people. We have a terrible past. And I feared what demons a significant change like this could summon.

When I didn’t answer right away, Cardan sat up so his back was to me, burying his head in his hands.

“Cardan…” I shifted so that I was propped up on my hands.

“What else can I give you to make this right?” he fretted to the ground in front of him. “I have given you everything. Every part of me, everything you see before you. It was wrong for both of us to take our games as far as we did, but I would have thought by now--”

“It was an off-handed comment made in poor taste.” I wanted to put a stop to everything that was happening. Rewind the whole evening.

Instead, he looked over his shoulder at me, visibly aching.

“I will not be like my father. I refuse it,” he retorted, and when I cocked my head to the side, not understanding, he went on. “Eldred collected consorts and sired children the way some people curate shoes: to suit his vanity. And I have that in spades already; there’s no need to spawn more. What I would want for a child, more than anything, is to not know what it is to grow up as an accessory. To not fear that his mother will be discarded. Jude, if you cannot trust so little of me, then this is poorly timed. Perhaps we need another five years. Or ten. Or however long you require.”

I sat up and scooted next to him, tucking my chin against his shoulder.

“I trust you,” I assured him in a whisper, and, as if he couldn’t help it, his eyes closed as he leaned his head towards mine. He smelled like oakwood and leather, like everything I’ve ever wanted. “I would not still be with you if I did not trust you.”

I wanted to push back the thick curls from his forehead, and so I did. And held my palm against his jaw as I leaned my forehead to his while the stars twinkled overhead.

Five years later, and sometimes we’re still finding little bits of armor that need to come off. For me, becoming a fearsome thing is not an option for handling motherhood, just as Cardan refuses to mirror his father’s vanity. But when I take off this bit of armor, this need to be feared and respected, it feels as if there is nothing underneath yet. Only vulnerability. Only terror.

I think of it now, in the ER waiting room of the Down East Community Hospital, while I snake my arm through his, looking at him while he’s ogling People magazine. He looks a mess, and there is no one I trust more. I’m still not convinced we’re shining examples of excellent would-be parents. But I’m afraid and vulnerable in the worst ways, and there’s no one I’d rather see me through it.

“Eldred would never have done something like this for any of his consorts,” I point out to him in a whisper, and he looks back at me with a pleased smirk.

“You are my wife,” he indicates, and gives my cold knuckles a swift kiss before turning back to whatever filth is engrossing him in People.

“Jude Duarte-Greenbriar?” There’s a nurse at the emergency room door calling my name. I draw in a breath. Here we go.

The nurse in blue scrubs takes my vitals and makes us somewhat comfortable in a makeshift space where we’re surrounded by taupe-colored curtains on three sides while I wait on a hospital bed. There’s a squeaky grey plastic chair for Cardan to sit on, and no more TV or People magazine – just the assurance that a doctor will see me soon. And then we’re left with our dread to stare at the taupe curtains around us, listening to the squeak of hurried shoe soles against linoleum and the occasional beeping of hospital pagers. The air is acrid, like someone’s tried to scrub it clean, and it’s making my stomach lurch. It must show on my face as I swallow hard against the rising bile, because Cardan swiftly hands me a blue plastic barf bag that the nurse has left him in charge of. He’s wary of my empty threats to aim for his shoes.

“Jude, are you decent?” calls a voice from the other side of the curtain. “You have visitors.”

The curtains scrape against their tracks on the ceiling, and I can’t hold back a relief grin at the sight of Vivi and Heather.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” It’s all Vivi can say as she sweeps in to wrap me in a hug.

“Hey,” Heather graciously greets Cardan while the two are awkward to the side. She’s looking effortlessly cool, with her shoulder-length pink hair in soft waves. She has holes in her jeans in all the right places, and she’s wearing a breezy, colorful boho top that shows off her brown shoulders. I try to give her a wave while Vivi is squeezing the life out of me.

“What are you doing here?” Vivi demands when she pulls away, holding me by the shoulders. She’s given her golden hair a short, edgey chop that almost hides the pointed tips of her half-fae ears when it falls the right way. She tends to favor t-shirts and jeans, but today she’s in tight black pants and a grey v-neck under a jacket, and I’m hoping I haven’t interrupted a date.

“Well.” I shift a glance between the two of them, simultaneously gladdened that they’re here and nervous with how I now I have break the news. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out…” And then Vivi gasps.

“Are you pregnant?!” she squeaks.

“Oh, my God, V,” Heather rolls her eyes. “You can’t ask people if they’re pregnant.”

“She’s right, though,” I interject. “I am.”

“Jude!” Vivi exclaims, fondly, and takes my face in her hands, and, for a brief moment, I realize this is all I’ve been wanting for weeks. I grin, sheepishly. Then Vivi narrows her cat-like eyes at Cardan.

“You knocked up my sister?” she jabs.

“Bold of you to assume it’s mine,” he quips back, and Vivi feigns a disgusted gasp as throw the empty barf bag at him.

“Force of habit,” Cardan tells Heather with a shrug.

“Congratulations, Cardan,” Heather replies, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“But why are you here?” Vivi turns to me again. “Does Taryn know? Does Madoc?”

“No on both counts,” I shake my head. “It’s early. And we’re here because--” Ugh, I hate this. I hate this. “I started bleeding.”

“Oh, no.” Heather’s face is etched with genuine concern. It’s been a roller coaster of a few minutes.

“But why are you here?” Vivi tries again, and I see what she’s getting at. Why not be seen to by the royal midwives?

“I’m mortal,” I say, quietly. “This is a mortal thing. I felt like I needed a mortal doctor.”

And Vivi takes my face in her hands.

“I completely, one-hundred-percent agree,” she says, whole-heartedly, and there’s relief there, too. She’s always wanted me to spend more time in the mortal realm.

We crowd around the hospital bed for a while to catch up. Heather makes a run to the vending machine to bring back some snacks, and soon the tightness in my chest is releasing and unwinding. This was the distraction I needed. For a few minutes there, I could almost forget what had brought us to this weird, curtained-off corner to begin with.

But then the curtain scrape on the track again. There’s an orderly waiting there in blue scrubs, pushing a wheelchair.

“They’re ready for you in ultrasound now, Jude,” he tells me, and indicates that I’m supposed to ride in the chair. I bristle at the gesture. I’m not sure of the last time I’ve been asked to do something so vulnerable and humiliating. I am not ill. I don’t need this.

Vivi notices and puts a hand at my arm.

“It’s just standard hospital procedure, Jude,” she says, in her tone of voice she uses to convince Oak to eat vegetables.

So I comply. Heather and Vivi tell us they’ll wait for us to get back, and then we’re off. Cardan follows the orderly, and every once and awhile, I hear him having to jog to catch up – he’s easily distracted by what all the mortals are up to in this place.

I’m wheeled into a dark room with an exam table. Next to it is a bunch of strange equipment I’ve never seen before – screens and wands and all sort of buttons. A technician waits for us there, a woman in pink scrubs with a badge that says her name is Brenna. Her dark, curly hair is pulled back tight against her scalp, and she has kind brown eyes that smile when she tells me to make myself comfortable on the exam table.

“And is this Dad?” Brenna wants to know, cheerfully waving Cardan in to have a seat on a grey plastic chair next to me.

“Not my dad,” I say, not understanding the question at first. Then it dawns on me. “I mean, he’s the father, yes. Of the baby.” Oh, my God. This is off to a great start. Cardan’s trying very hard to not laugh outright at me and failing miserably. His laugh comes out like one long snort.

“Happens all the time,” Brenna says, with another cheerful wave, which makes me wonder why she’s still asking it, then.

“First baby?” Brenna now wants to know, making small talk while she’s queuing up her equipment.

“First everything,” I reply, hoping that will explain my nerves. “First baby, first ultrasound, first try.”

“Oh.” Brenna sounds impressed and looks to Cardan as she wheels around in her swivel chair. “Nice shootin’, Tex,” she tells him, with a wink.

“Thank you, Brenna,” Cardan accepts graciously, puffing out his chest a little. I roll my eyes.

“This may be the only time I’m ever complimented on my marksmanship,” he tells me. “Let me have this moment.”

“All right!” Brenna interrupts. “Let’s see what you’re cookin’ in there, mama.”

She rolls up my shirt and tucks in some scratchy paper into my leggings. Then squirts some cold gel across my abdomen. I watch in fascination while she rolls her device over my stomach, and then she turns her screen to us.

“And here’s your little guy,” she says. “Or gal. Can’t tell yet, obviously.”

For a moment, time stops.

Next to me, Cardan draws in a breath.

Something squirmy and alive curls and stretches in the grainy black and white pixels of Brenna’s screen. It doesn’t look quite human. Or fae. It looks kind of alien, if I’m being honest. But I can see its tiny limbs and the outline of its perfectly round head, and it’s moving. Like a manic little seahorse, our little shrimp is bobbing all over the place, alive and well.

“Looking good,” Brenna says, and Cardan barks out a surprised laugh. I’m smiling so hard my face might break.  

“Oh, I was sure I’d stabbed it,” Cardan sighs in relief, slumping in his seat, and it’s my turn to laugh.

“That’s not actually possible,” Brenna tells him, and maybe now he’ll believe it. “Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

She clicks and clacks at some buttons, then turns a knob. Pushes a little harder on my abdomen.

A fluttering, steady whooshing sound fills the speakers in the room. I don’t know when I grabbed Cardan’s hand, but I’m squeezing it hard now. I glance at him. He’s utterly transfixed on the screen, his dark eyes wide, his lips parted. He looks like how I feel when I’m in bearing witness to great and ancient magic.

This isn’t all vomit and exhaustion. This is happening. This is real.

We are making something new. Something entirely unique. Like magic.

“Ok, this might be your issue.” Brenna breaks the enchantment, zooming in on something dark on her screen. My heart, which moments before felt like it might burst, squeezes and contracts in panic now.

“This is a sub-chorionic hematoma,” she says, pointing to the screen and making some notes. “The doctor will explain all this to you.”

“What is it?” Cardan’s voice is tight, panic thinly-veiled. “Is it dangerous?”

“They’re pretty common,” says Brenna, not looking at us while she takes measurements and notes. Like she drops these kinds of bombs regularly. “It’s basically an accumulation of blood between the uterine wall and the fetal membrane. It can cause bleeding, especially as the baby gets bigger and jostles it around. They usually resolve without much issue.”

“Usually?” Cardan’s not assuaged.

“Well, again,” Brenna says, looking at him sidelong, “the doctor will read this and give his advice. But it can increase the risk of miscarriage in some cases. Not always, though. The doctor will tell you how he wants you to treat it, but it usually involves some bed rest or limited activity, nothing too strenuous or crazy. Don’t go horse-back riding!” And she laughs as if only a crazy person would get on a horse while pregnant.

I look to Cardan. He looks to me. It’s hit us at the same time.

The ragwort horse.

How the hell are we getting home?

“Huh.” I barely had time to digest my realization about the ragwort horse before Brenna was back with more. She swivels the device on my stomach around some more. Cocks her head to the side.

“Are either of you a twin?” she asks.

Cardan points at me like I’ve done something wrong he doesn’t want to be blamed for.

“Why?” I ask, slowly, cautiously.

“It does run in families,” Brenna says, and turns the screen to us again. “And I’m seeing two babies here.” She looks back at Cardan. “And on the first try, Tex,” she says, looking impressed again.

Now, nothing feels real. I think I might leave my body. There are two squirmy aliens in the black and white screen, the lazier of the two now floating into view. Brenna adjusts the knobs some more to bring the new heartbeat into focus, just as strong as the first.

“Jude.” I can’t decipher what Cardan’s feeling now. He looks unlike I’ve ever seen him before. Something between elation and sheer dread is warring between his wide eyes and furrowed brow. He grips at the beanie over his hair like he’s trying to keep his own head from flying off.

“Are you and your twin identical?” Brenna asks. I nod, stupidly.

“These, too,” she nods, and points at the screen. “See: they’re sharing a sac.” She draws in a deep breath. “This does elevate the risk more, with the hematoma. The doctor will go over all of this with you. But I’ll bet he’ll want you on some kind of bed rest. Weekly check-ups. That sort of thing.” And then she squints hard at the screen. “What is that?” she wonders aloud. “Is that a tail?”

“You don’t see a tail,” Cardan says, but he’s so flustered and shell-shocked, he’s forgotten to use the glamour.

“I think I might, though.” Brenna squints harder.

“You don’t see a tail,” Cardan says, louder and hurried, this time with the weight of magic heavy in his tone. “Everything you see looks normal to you.”

A glamoured smile flutters over Brenna’s pleasant features as she lifts the device from my belly and clicks off her equipment.

“Everything looks normal,” she hums, happily. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Everything but the hematoma, right?” I cock my head to the side as she rolls away her swivel chair. “The doctor will speak to us about that.”

“What hematoma?” Brenna’s still smiling as she stands with her clipboard. “Everything looks normal. I’m going to call an orderly, but pretty much you’re free to go. Congratulations!”

“Cardan,” I accuse under my breath as she leaves, leveling a glare at him.

“You are carrying twins.” He’s just agape at me, either unaware or unrattled by how the poor wording in his glamour just muddled everything.

“The doctor won’t know about the hematoma now!” I exclaim.

“We’ll scrounge up another one somewhere,” Cardan waves me off. “Jude. Twins.”

It’s not helping me feel any better, him saying it over and over again. I slump into my hands, weighted by disbelief and frustration. What am I going to do? This can’t possibly be real, can it?

“I am going to get so huge,” I moan into my palms in self-pity. I know it’s vain, but at the moment, it’s all I can think. In the land of willowy Folk, I already stick out like a sore thumb. Now I’m going to be a sore and massively swollen thumb.

Cardan’s shifted to stand in front of me on the exam table. And he runs his hands up and down my arms, almost reverent.

“You are magnificent,” he reassures me, softly, and presses a kiss against my head.

“Why are you not freaking out?” I ask, and pull him by the hoodie pockets so I can hug him again if I need it. I think I may need it. “This is two babies. We don’t even know Thing One about taking care of one baby, and now there will be two.”

“We may require a few more house cats,” Cardan jokes, and when I scowl, he asks, “That’s still not amusing? I shall persist. One of these days.”

“You know, I hear that’s a mortal fatherhood trait,” I point out. “Persisting over and over with the same unamusing joke to the embarrassment of everyone around you.” And I wrap my arms around his waist as I look up at him. He’s warm, and everything is a little more bearable when he’s close and smiling.

“I think you are implying that I’m excelling at fatherhood so far,” Cardan grins down at me, and I’m surprised to see it looks as if his gold-rimmed eyes are glistening.

“Are you all right?” I ask, softening at the sight. He blinks, furiously, as he buries his long fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me close as he looks over my face.

“I just--” His voice is hoarse when he starts, so he clears it and tries again. “This is more than I ever dared to consider,” he says. “I did not dream that this kind of life would ever be an option for me. Family that looked after each other, that loved each other – that always seemed to me to be a strictly mortal gift. As if the Folk had bargained for everlasting life long ago and forsook all hope of familial love in the process. I had accepted that it wasn’t mine to have. But you.”

He shifts his hands so that he holds my face, and I feel swallowed by the adoration in his admission. All I can do is close my eyes as he holds me. I can think of nothing else when his nose brushes my forehead.

“I am overcome by all you have given me,” he whispers, and I think I might cry. My hands twist in the fabric of the sweatshirt he wears.

“I love your words,” I whisper back, “but you give me too much credit.” I pull back to look at his mirthful, glistening eyes and say: “If it were left up to me, I would never have given you twins.”

He laughs outright, unguarded and thrilled.

“Lucky for me, then,” he says, and kisses me.

I have kissed him hundreds, maybe thousands of times. We have shared passionate, unbridled kisses and desperate, devouring kisses. We’ve kissed at quick partings, and we’ve kissed with soft, gentle comfort. I like everything about them all. But this is something entirely new, something that surprises me still. It’s filled with gratitude and promises and dreams of the future, and though it is intimate, I would not have felt ashamed if someone had walked in.

It’s the kiss of complete trust, and in that moment, I feel assured that, in Cardan, I have not made a mistake. There is much to figure out still. But this is right.

So, we will have twins. I will meet this challenge with resolve. For right now, anyway, the quantity of babies is the least of our concerns.

“How in the hell am I supposed to get home?” I ask, the moment we pull apart. Cardan rests his hands on my shoulders, screwing up his beautiful mouth in thought. The ragwort horse. The bed rest. The doctor we must scrounge up somewhere. There are a dozen new bullets swirling on a to-do list, and none of them lead us back to Faerie any time soon.

“I haven’t the foggiest,” he confesses. “Which further complicates matters, because there is absolutely no chance that I am leaving you here.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” I say, and press back a smile. “And also glad,” I add.

Cardan meets my smile with a little wicked smirk of his own.

“Is it time we scheme together once again?” he asks.

We cannot get home until this is resolved, and we cannot leave Faerie ungoverned. I have no idea where to even start on this problem.

But that’s certainly never stopped us before.

There’s a knock at the door. The orderly has arrived with the wheelchair to take us back to Vivi and Heather. I give Cardan a secret, knowing smile.

“I suppose it is,” I agree.

-----------------------------

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[ffangirlingsince2001]

The Witcher and The Princess: Sparks

Geralt x Reader

Geralt of Rivia is not a babysitter, he is not a bodyguard, and he has no interest in transporting princesses across the continent. Until gold is offered and for the next 90 days he’s saddled with a chirpy, bubbly, princess, who is betrothed to the prince of Narok and has a desire to see everything before she’s trapped behind another set of walls.

Warnings: angst, a taste of smut, drinking

Geralt watched as she limped down the stairs, the first smile he had seen in days worn so comfortably it was a shame it had taken him so long to see it. She sat across from him without ordering breakfast.

“Sore?” he asked, and she shook her head, lying with ease.

“Where’s Jaskier? I want to thank him for his hospitality.”

“He left this morning, a party to attend I believe.”

“I think we should leave today too,” she announced, “There’s another town a few miles down the road. It’s on the coast and I have a good friend from back home who lives there.” She looked so hopeful that he found it difficult to even consider saying no.

“Okay,” he answered, and she practically leapt across the table to throw her arms around him. With soft lips, she planted a kiss on his cheek, dousing him in appreciation. She flew up the stairs, the limp almost nonexistent when she didn’t even give her feet time to touch the floor.

When she returned to his side, she wore a dress of pink cotton and the corset that made him imagine her in ways that even the innocence of pink cotton could not dissuade. She was glowing as she led the way out, beginning the walk towards the town limits with a skip in her step.

“Would you like to ride with me?” he asked before he knew what he was saying, and quickly tried to cover up the attempt for closeness with logic, “Because we left your horse behind.”

“As long as Roach doesn’t mind, she had a rough day yesterday too.” As Y/N brushed her hand down Roach’s muzzle, Geralt felt his insides grow warm, unable to bury his affection when someone showed his horse as much care as he did.

“She’ll be okay, and the faster we make it there, the faster she can rest.” That earned him another grin before she reached out a hand. It was a struggle to get his own hand to move, his mind trying to process the consequences of pulling her onto his horse.

Situating her behind him would press all the softest parts of her against him. Her hands would wrap around his torso, tightening with every jostle until he would be able to focus on nothing but the feeling of her body encompassing his.

Though he was sure placing her in front would be so much worse. She would reside directly beneath him. Her hair would brush against his nose, filling his senses with the intoxicating smell of roses and sugar. Every time he looked down her hemline would pose no longer protect him from the sight of soft flesh. He would have his arms wrapped around her, and when she inevitably relaxed against him it would be no different than cradling her within his bed chambers. And worst of all, she would in between his legs, jostling against him with every movement. And when he found himself unable to control certain animalistic tendencies there would be no hiding it.

She was to sit behind him, for both of their sakes.

He was right of course, about the challenges of her sitting behind him. Her arms wrapped around him and she leaned in close, still bouncing with the excitement of seeing her friend. He could feel every inch of her, but what he didn’t account for was the feeling of being between her legs. Sitting there, feeling them tighten against his hips took his mind to place that he did not dare to venture. He struggled to force the thoughts out of his mind, it was the incessant imagination that made him lash out at her. The frustration that he was unable to act on the vulgar images his mind conjured had caused all their problems previously and he was determined not to let it happen again. It was not her fault everything she did made his stomach do flips. It was not her fault that every time she spoke he could focus on nothing but her lips and the way they would feel wrapped around him. And it was definitely not her fault that he wanted to drag her from his horse and fuck her against the nearest tree until she was raw and limping for the rest of their journey. So, he did his best not to think of the princess riding behind him at all.

The town was not far, and just as she said the ocean crashed against the edge of the town in a way only poets could dream of. The moment they entered the town, she slid from his horse and he let out a mental sigh of relief. He watched as she ran down the street, slipping through merchants going about their daily business. She turned a corner and disappeared from sight, tugging him out of his catatonic state. Urging Roach forward he followed her and was greeted by the sight of her flinging herself into the arms of a young silversmith. She thew her arms around his neck and pulled him tight, laughing with glee as he did the same. He drew closer and he could hear their happy reunion.

“Y/N, how are you here?”

“I’m travelling to Narok, and I begged my escort to stop here. I couldn’t stand the way we parted being the last time we saw each other.”

“Why Narok?”

“Marriage,” she replied darkly, and then shook her head, “But that is the last thing I want to discuss. Come, meet my Witcher.” At the sound of his title, the silversmith’s eyes darted to him and the widened.

“Your escort is a Witcher? Why not your guards? Is he truly capable of protecting you?”

“Of course, he is!” she defended, slapping a playful hand against his chest. “I appreciate your concern, Adam, but he has gotten me this far without incident. I will not have you question his abilities, especially in my presence,” she defended, catching Geralt’s eye as she did so.

“Of course, I just want you to be safe.”

“I know, and that is why I wish to keep you around during our stay in your city. I wish to see everything before we are forced to continue our journey.”

“I would love nothing more than to be your guide,” Adam responded, and she jumped with glee before turning to Geralt with wide and pleading eyes. The plea was clear. ‘Let me experience the world without a shadow’ it screamed, and he nodded, warning her that for her safety it was best if she was back by dusk. She nodded and took Adam’s outstretched arm, allowing him to lead her away from the Witcher.

True to her word she returned as the sun was setting. She smelled of salt and fire when she did so, and explained that there had been a bonfire on the beach when he asked about the lingering smell of smoke. He gave her a brief once over, checking for any wounds as he tried to appear as apathetic as possible. When he was satisfied that she was safe he gave a silent nod. She grinned and kissed him on the cheek once more before allowing Adam to drag her to the center of the pub where people were dancing to the tune of a mandolin.

He had succeeded in appearing apathetic, but he was anything but. Worry had etched itself across his forehead every moment she was gone and as she reappeared, he had wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. And now, as she danced with Adam anger was bubbling within him, waiting for the chance to pull the young silversmith limb from limb. His hands were all over her as they danced. They lingered at her hips and bunched the fabric of her skirt. As she twirled around Geralt knew the look Adam was sending her way. Longing for once was and a lusting for what rested in his hands now. She was laughing all while he did so, catching his hand and allowing him to spin her across the makeshift dance floor. Her fingers brushed away stray pieces of hair, lingering on his cheek and tracing his neck with remembrance of the past. The clear past between the two grew only more obvious when a slow tune came on and they held one another close with aching familiarity.

Geralt downed more liquor than he had in months as he watched them, until he could take no more and left to their room, hoping that sleep would ease the aggression coursing through his veins and the tightness in his pants. He laid in the dark, unable to sleep for half an hour when the door creaked open. A ray of light struck his face and he watched Y/N slip inside as quietly as she could. She was still panting from the dancing, chest heaving in the golden light of her candle.

“Geralt?” she whispered, and he grunted in response, “Are you alright?” He grunted again. She was always asking if he was okay, as if she had nothing to do with the agony he was forced to endure day in and day out. “Are you ill? I can call for a healer.”

“I’m fine.” She set the candle down and approached him, kneeling beside the bed.

“Are you sure?”

“How do you know Adam?” he asked, swiftly throwing the attention from himself.

“He used to work in the palace.”

“And what was your relation?” Geralt was sitting up now, looking down at the sight of her resting on her knees between his legs. He fought to rid the idea from his mind, but it seemed to have dug its claws in.

“I don’t quite understand what you mean,” she whispered, and he growled, pulling her to her feet and pushing her against the wall. She didn’t struggle as he had expected her to but looked at him with apt fascination.

“I mean how did you interact. How often did you sneak from your bed to meet him in the dark of night? How often did the innocent princess wed to another allow temptation to guide her? And what exactly did temptation bring?” he growled, and she froze, revealing that he was correct in his assumption.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered and he smirked, trapping her between his body and the wall as ale began to make decisions for him.

“Well, I know he didn’t truly ravish you based on the way his eyes were imagining it tonight, so I ask again. What did you allow the lowly silversmith do to you?” She struggled at his insult of the silversmith, but he held her far too tightly. “Did you let him kiss you?” he asked, leaning in until their lips were mere centimeters apart. When she did not answer he tutted softly. “Come on Princess, I need an answer.” She nodded, eyes wide and lips parted. “Where?” Silence again, but this time he took a different route in pulling the answers from her. He pressed his lips to hers with rough admiration and pulled away. She gasped at the removal of contact and he pressed his lips against her throat, sucking gently at the soft skin. “Did he kiss you here?” she nodded, and he moved to her shoulder, kissing her again. “Here?” She nodded once more, and he moved his lips to where the slopes of her breast began. “What about here?” She shook her head and he pulled away, surveying her as a predator does their pray. “What else did you let him do?”

“Nothing,” she replied, and he shook his in disappointment.

“No need to lie, Princess. Nothing bad will come from a little honestly, especially when you are so very wound up. So, tell me, what did he do to you?” She remained silent and gasped when he pulled her onto his lap, bunching her skirt at her hips and running his hands along her thighs. She was so soft beneath him, her hips rocking forward ever so slightly even as he did nothing but touch the outside of her thighs. He slipped a hand beneath her dress and cupped her center. She let out a soft moan, hands finding his hair as she rocked forward with more need. She was velvety in his hand, her core so wet it seemed it was melting at his very touch. Her breathing turned into needy whimpers, struggling to feel more friction between her core and his hand, but he was not done interrogating her.  “If you don’t want to tell me what he did, tell me instead why he was sent away.”

“Someone caught us,” she moaned, still caught in the high of his pleasure, and he froze, hands clenching against her flesh. She yelped and tried to pull her away, her core pulsing against him in protest, but he did not relent.

“And what were you doing when they caught you?” All of the sudden a smirk appeared on her face, any fear she had before dissipating in an instant, and she grabbed onto his shoulders pulling herself forward. She pressed against him and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“We were in an empty hall. And he had me pressed to wall, my legs wrapped around his waist,” she said and he growled, hoisting her into the position she had described. Her legs tightened around him and she pressed kisses against his neck. “And I was moaning so loud it was a wonder someone hadn’t caught us sooner. If they hadn’t caught us, I would have let him take me in that very hall.” Geralt growled and pressed his lips to hers. He was hard against her, straining against his pants as she rubbed against him. “But they sent him away and I was forced to endure hours of lecture, about the sanctity of remaining pure for one’s husband,” she whispered, grinding against him as she pressed kisses against his chest, but at the moment she mentioned ‘husband’ Geralt froze. What the hell was he doing? She was to be wed and he had her wrapped around him like a common minx.

He was supposed to keep her safe, but defiling her would do anything but, so with great effort he pulled away, unwrapping her from his body. And pulling away.

“What just happened?” she asked through pants of frustration.

“Your husband,” he growled, and she had the audacity to look bewildered. “I will not take you away from your husband. I apologize and assure you it will not happen again.” She looked like she wanted to scream, or worse cry, but she only nodded and stepped away from him, smoothing down her dress.

“Yes, my husband. I hope this will not make things uncomfortable.”

“It will not,” he assured her, and she nodded with an unexplained sadness and retired to her bed, allowing Geralt to do the same, and revel in the frustration he had created for himself.

Tags

@mallorydoesstuff @facelessfiction @aphadriel-fanfic @raspberrydreamclouds @thegreattodd @saint-hardy @ravenclawsstolemybunies @queenofmankind @britty443 @lonewolf471 @utterlyhopeful @persephonehemingway​

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Lost boys the beginning (prequel script.) review-

Spoilers!

I said I would do this and here I am, my fascination for the sequel started when I read the wiki page for it and now that I have gotten my hands on it. I still maintain my view that I would give my blood for this have to been made, with the og actors and all. Shut the hell up and get in the time machine boys were making a movie.

I want to get one of my criticisms out of the way right off the bat, it’s more me nitpicking it anything. “How do we make it clear it’s in the past?” “Deep southern accents” I’m not kidding. Despite taking place in literally San Francisco, everyone says ain’t or drops the G off of ing words (Nothing< Nothin’) or this may also be something in California? Is it clear I’m from the east coast. Yet? They do also make no attempts at changing the language to fit the time as quote “party pooper” (I’m not kidding I’m deadass) but this is just me nit picking as I’m very much a period piece person.

Plot-

It’s 1906 boys and we open on David, noted to be bearded and in a fur coat(good to know.). Basically the lost boys were originally street kids grouped together in a little gang well more teens now anyway. They pickpocket and sleep on the beach but David says “ethical pickpocketing” so no stealing from families. Paul can punch real good, we needed to know that for reasons. There’s also a point that the adult gangs kinda go after them as “who’s kid is this” basically but they aren’t really around that much. So a boat arrives , with no one alive on board and boxes of dirt. That’s right mf’s VLAD FUCKING DRACULA, and they do connect him to the impaler(mainly for cool kills) so basically they robbery goes wrong and David shoots the guys everyone panics for a good five minutes because not one of them actually killed a guy before. Long story short after Marko gets a broken hand they get on horses and ride up to the grand hotel with the gold and get a lick at living lavida loca at the hotel , food, a roof, women all that stuff. David gets a thing for the literal I kid you not PRINCESS ANASTASIA(it does not go well.) vlad shows up alive and they ride off again only for what can be described as the coolest shit where the boys basically get picked off their saddles and yanked off into foggy nowhere one by one which leaves only David. Spooky, cool , wild. No one remembers the night before everyone has a good panic sesh, they go do work for vlad because yeah OK, wanna steal the gold but bat boy shows up and says “my boys” so they kinda listen to him. Also Marko and Paul eat a dude. That happens. They basically have a casino night and vlad pulls a maggots trick basically getting all but David to drink. Blah blah blah David is all goo goo eyes for girly , boys on fire some stuff. Later that night I find hysterical is that Paul and Marko have the nerve to go “we hungy ;-;” despite literally eating a dude not even two scenes ago. Dracula plays more mind games David whoops his ass then his friends proceed to try and eat him on a train as said, they hungy. David is basically the Micheal. A lot of stuff happens and the earthquake Dracula is dead whoo but so is David’s girl so rip. Max shows up at the end “oh no. Anyway-.” And isn’t a general manipulative dick like Dracula and says it how it is. They join him the end. They don’t explain how the sire thing switches though...

Charecters-

David: he is the Micheal. The most emotional yet level headed at the same time, he was clearly always the leader with Marko as his right hand man. Though he does not as easily follow vlad as the others, he spits out the blood but it’s? Oh my god the just utter loyalty and love he has for the other boys makes my heart ache. The guy literally dies for them and it’s great. However after being a vamp he becomes the more cool more indifferent little emotion showing David we know. Rip David his crushes either grow To hate him or fucking die

Marko: I will kill for him. A bit more wild then David he doesn’t particularly care for who they steal from, he HATES having to wear the fancy clothing and match the style of the rich people in the hotel getting all snappy. He’s clearly young and snappy most lines after David really, and he’s INCREDIBLY close to Paul. They are literally constantly together, they share a bed, comments and Paul literally lunges to help Marko from the sun despite wounding himself worse in that. They dating. He also says ‘looky’ rip markos right hand which was: Crushed; lit on fire,’lit on fire again.

Paul: himbo. He Aparently is the best fist fighter in San Francisco, good to know. He speaks a lot but it’s mainly “I’m scared what’s going on” or “I’m hungry” along those lines. Super close to Marko.

Dwayne: silent type still but gets to speak a hell of a lot more, clearly a good rider and about everything else. Oh! And there’s this charecter named jasper who turns out to be his brother???? He’s completely useless and is only there to give him something to cry over and steal lines that could be given to the others he’s seriously completely pointless

There is the two .. I don’t remember what they are but they are kitchen staff from Romania who know about vamps and warn David about his friends etc. they are clearly a take on the frog brothers but explicitly middle aged. Are they trying to add a reincarnation subplot? There is also a 5 year old who is only here to steal root beer and it is stated he is “grandpa” so only shit Emerson your old. Vlad I’m sort of indifferent about he’s just here to be a ass, to be Dracula - really he didn’t have to be spesifically dracula. Max only shows up at the end which I don’t really like as I think it would have been better to show him building the trust and relationship better? As he’s just overall better then vlad and that’s saying a lot.

There is other parallels to the og movie:

-Vlad ripping the roof off a carriage to eat the couple inside

-The horse scene over the cliff is easily the night ride with Micheal as it’s equally foggy

-David is basically a mix of himself, Micheal and Sam

- the waiters are a form of the frog brothers

Etc

Overall I think it is actually really really good? The script bleeds a little to 80s and I think they should benifit from some older language. Also drop Jasper he serves no purpose as he dies and said very little to begin with, drop little grandpa to a implied cameo, give more time with max instead of mainly vlad, like did it need to be literally Dracula? However I still love it, it’s David desperately trying to save his friends, their makeshift family. There’s parts were fear just drips off of the boys and it shows! Genuine fear! Genuine panic! Etc. also gives a explanation to the whole free bird thing because David said “fuck you dracula we ain’t yo slaves” (something like that) over all I take it as cannon, with some liberties I like it as a backstory to the boys and it fills in and explains a lot of things. Not to mention it was actually written by the same people?

Honestly give it a read.

[irene-sadler]

severe thunderstorm warning

but wait theres more

a tropical storm is rollin through town so it is absolutely disgusting outside and (mostly unrelated) i was up until 2 am yesterday/this morning b.c i decided to watch the stupid seattle mariners steelheads go into extra innings yet again (tfw ur a fan of a west coast team and u live 4 timezones away so the 10th inning takes place at 1 in the morning) 

anyway during that time i wrote a lil follow up to the executioner so nobody will hate me until uh 

the actual follow up is written which at my usual pace will be in approximately october. 

yw enjoy todays double header of hot nonsense this one’s called 

Severe Thunderstorm Warning:

     A week had passed, and even if she’d maybe made up her mind, she still hadn’t actually talked to Reynard about it.

     In her defense, nonstop days in the saddle interrupted only by an all out battle with a Nilfgaardian relief force and a followup skirmish with their baggage train guards hadn’t left much time for side conversations.  By night, the army either marched or caught a few hours of sleep when it was too dark to keep moving. She could count the number of words she’d exchanged with Reynard about something unrelated to the wounded, the condition of the bridges they used and the towns they passed, or the unpleasant but not undrinkable casks of acidic wine they’d captured on two hands. Most of them were just greetings, offered in the morning with his usual overdeveloped sense of social protocol, at night with a hint of some underlying emotion to suggest he actually meant them. It almost made her nostalgic for the days when her total forces were, more or less, a ragged collection of highwaymen with slings, a half unit of Lyrian pikemen, and a stray dog.

    On the other hand, she wouldn’t exactly be able to rush to the Aedirnian’s rescue without the trailing, dusty, exhausted mass of soldiers that snaked along the road under the baking afternoon sun, from one end of the flat horizon to the other, and she didn’t have enough men, maybe, even then. A big enough opposing force with a little more rest, a few more horses, and a following wind might be able to take them out. A private conversation was a small price to pay for an army that could probably hold its own in the field, with even odds.

    “Storm’s coming,” Gascon announced, riding in from the head of the column with a scout and a thick cloud of dust trailing him. She snapped back to the present and looked skyward.  A hawk or vulture crossed far overhead, almost too small to see. There were a few, smallish, grayish clouds drifting gently across the endless blue, and, above those, the edge of a very high, white cloud cover that might set in overnight and block the moon. She hoped she was wrong; she couldn’t march in total darkness, and the loss of four or five hours of moonlight would set them back seven or eight hours of actual travel time.

    Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Reynard glanced upward and then shrugged at her when she looked back down.

    “Uh. Metaphorically?”

    “No,” Gascon said. “Literally. It’s crossin’ the plain fast, will be in sight pretty soon. Tipper, here, thinks it’ll be a bad one.”

    “Lot of lighting in them clouds,” the scout noted, squinting. “Looks just like th’ one from last week, if you ask me; don’t like t’ be out here in th’ open when it hits, but nowhere else t’ go -”

    “How much time do we have?” she asked, interrupting the man’s lecture, which seemed to be going nowhere fast. Gascon glanced behind himself, toward a vague, pale smudge on the northeastern horizon.

    “Thirty minutes?”

    “More like ten,” the scout said.

    “Better stop the column, then,” she said, resisting the urge to swear pointlessly and waste a few irreplaceable seconds. “Gascon - ride up to the front - have ‘em spread out, stay low to the ground. Reynard -”

    “The back,” he said, immediately, wheeling his horse around. “I’m on it.”

    The supply wagons wouldn’t be able to drop out of the wind and lightning in the open field, and would have to circle around and hope for the best, but she didn’t have to tell him that. He could do his job without her. She focused on the middle, diverting riders and scouts up and down the column with orders for every junior officer and NCO they came across. The result was that, as a black cloud blocked out the blue sky and the air abruptly shifted from dead still to a gusty breeze headed toward it, the army came to a grinding halt and spread out, laying out under canvas tarps and cloaks until the plain was dotted with clustered shelters. Loose horses drifted among them groups, ears tilted back.

    It would have to do, she thought, reviewing the sprawling, messy product of her efforts. If the storm was as bad as it looked like it would be, it was all they could do. She dropped off her twitchy, unhappy horse, turned it loose to fend for itself with the others, and realized that her own cloak was somewhere with the faraway baggage.

    She squinted up at the boiling cloud overhead and frowned dubiously. The wind had died again. Thunder rumbled nonstop in the distance and crashed overhead. It didn’t look good, she had to admit, and she was lucky to have a scout who could read the signs. If she hadn’t gotten ahead of the storm by a few minutes, it would have been a disaster. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much chance of getting her cloak or even a jacket before the rain started. She’d been caught unprepared and there was nothing she could do about it.

    It could always be worse, she told herself, pointedly. She spent a minute with her cavalry commander, come up on foot to report that his units had made themselves fast as much as possible.

    “Can’t answer for the horses, though,” he said. “We had to let ‘em go, on the chance this’ll be one of them hurricanes.”

    “Hurricanes?”

    “Whirlwinds.”

    “Yes. Good idea,” she said, picturing the havoc one of those would cause. She doubted there would be one, but -

    “You just never know what might happen,” the Colonel noted.

    “No. Good luck,” she said. “Once this clears out, we’ll be back on the move.”

    Eventually, if everything went perfectly. She didn’t have to voice the thought; he knew what could go wrong. He saluted and headed off toward a distant fork of lighting from the ground to the clouds. The wind suddenly picked up again as soon as he left, gusted toward the clouds, then back in the opposite direction, bringing a strong smell of rain and a strange, greenish cloud with it. She squinted at it. It was like rain, traveled along the ground like rain, but it was the wrong color. By the time she realized that it was a cloud of blowing grass and dust it was too late to duck before the mess hit her right in the eyes. She turned away from the wind, got caught up in the stinging hail that instantly followed it, and stumbled directly into something solid. Whatever it was caught hold of her by the shoulders before she could push off of it; she squinted at it and recognized Reynard in time to keep herself from decking him. He said something that the thunder drowned out. She shook her head.

    “Come on,” he shouted, into her ear. She let him drag her onto the ground, under the dirty gold cape he held over their heads. It was just about big enough to cover both of them, if they huddled close together. Another few inches and she would be sitting in his lap. It wasn’t like she was entering unprecedented territory; she told herself to not think too hard about it.

    “Where’s your cloak?” he asked. She shrugged.

    “Somewhere in the baggage train. Where’d you come from?”

    “There. I had time to grab mine,” he said, paused, for a deafening crash of thunder, seemed to be out of things to say afterward. The hail stopped banging off the cloth over their heads. A waterfall of rain followed it.

    “What a mess,” she said.

    “It’ll clear up soon.”

    He was maybe three inches away from her. She was extremely aware that the last time she was this close to him she had been in his bed. He glanced away, like the same thought had crossed his mind. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t much else for him to look at; he was back to watching her, a little warily, a second or two afterward. She had plenty of things she could talk about, and one or two she should talk about, but the words just weren’t coming to her.

    If she kissed him, nobody would know about it, she noted to herself, instead of trying to find any. It would be easy; he was literally right there, watching her with a slightly too intense look in his eye. She had told him she was thinking their relationship, whatever it was, over, but she had always known what she was going to do. She just hadn’t had the time or the place. or the words to tell him. This was not any of those things. It was damp, because the cape was leaking slightly, and a little awkward, and she could barely hear herself think over the rain and thunder. Nothing about the situation was convenient for an extremely personal and delicate conversation.

    “I had a weird chat with Gascon, the other night,” she said, instead. He looked vaguely confused, like he had expected something else.

    “What about?”

 ——        

    It was two in the morning, probably, and they were still marching under the light of a dwindling half-moon. She was pretending she wasn’t tired and sore. Everyone else seemed to be half-asleep on their feet, at best.

    “Good morning, Meve,” Gascon said brightly, riding up next to her and interrupting her wandering mind. “You’re looking pensive and thoughtful. What gives?”

    “Huh?”

    “I mean, lately, you’ve been mostly surly and unapproachable. Which, don’t get me wrong, is a good look on you, but this one’s a little less terrifying.”

    She frowned at him and decided there was no particularly good response to the comment.

    “You want an apple? I stole some from th’ orchard we passed earlier.”

    He held one out, with the same encouraging smile he used when he offered his dog a bone. She squinted at the offering. It was definitely a crabapple, and definitely not really ripe. Her stomach growled anyway.

    “Yes, all right.”

    She caught it in midair; he waited for her to eat half of it before he asked, casually, “So. What are you thinking about?”

    She shrugged vaguely. When she wasn’t thinking about Villem or coming up with a dozen schemes and contingency plans for the next day, week, month, she was mostly thinking about Reynard. By unspoken consent, they had carefully avoided being alone together at any point in the last couple of days. The distance hadn’t made her feel any better. The only good thing about the situation was she was pretty sure nobody had noticed anything different.

     He rolled his eyes at her.

    “Silent treatment, is it? Been taking notes from Reynard lately?”        

    Nobody except Gascon, apparently. She raised an eyebrow at him, warningly. He blithely ignored it.

    “Or maybe you already had that little strategy down. You have known each other for a long time, after all. How long’s it been?”

    She cleared dust out of her throat. The question seemed harmless. She didn’t see any reason to not answer it.

    “Uh. Eighteen years. Maybe more.”

    “That long, huh?”

    He had a curious gleam in his eye. She eyed him cautiously.

    “What was he like back then?”

    She thought about it for a minute.

    “Well, I was - nineteen? So he was, what, maybe twenty-two? He was - I don’t know - about like he is now, only younger.”

    She had met Reynard at the same time as all her new husband’s other knights. She hadn’t really noticed anything particularly interesting about him specifically, at the time, if she was honest. He was young, barely said anything because he was so stiff with nerves and propriety, and had a patchy mustache he was trying to grow out, to make himself look older. The stiffness had largely survived the years, as a defense mechanism. The mustache, fortunately, hadn’t. She smiled a little; they had both gotten older and wiser, or, at least, less insecure. She wondered what they would be like in another twenty years.

    “You’re drifting again,” Gascon said. She snapped back to the present and eyed him.

    “What?”

    “Oh, you know; I bring up Reynard, you get this faraway look in your eyes and start staring off at nothin’. It’s a thing you’ve been doin’, lately. You should probably be more careful; people are bound t’ notice. Other people, I mean.”

    The side-eye turned to a glare; she turned her full attention on him.

    “What do you mean, exactly, Brossard? And keep your voice down, for once.”

    “Well,” he said, carefully, “I mean, I know you didn’t go dig through the stash we had in the closet, back in Rivia Castle; only two people had keys to it, far as I know - me and the quartermaster. Carver didn’t stir between midnight and dawn, like usual, and I had mine on me the whole time. Doubt you wandered off t’ look at the scenery for a couple hours, and I couldn’t help noticin’ that Reynard bunked not twenty feet away from your room -”

    “So?”

    “So, maybe, that’s where you were that night. Maybe. Don’t worry, I didn’t mention this, uh, theory of mine t’ anyone. If it’s true, far as I’m concerned, it’s your business. Well, yours and his.”

    “Then why bring it up?”

    He tilted his hat back a little, considered her suspicious face in the torchlight.

    “Because you look kind of miserable, if I’m honest. Did your chat after the Lester affair go that bad?”

    “No,” she said, looking ahead again, trying to pretend she wasn’t miserable, just tired. “No, not exactly. It’s - it’s complicated.”

    “You keep saying that,” he said. “Not everything has to be complicated, you know.”

——

    “Complications,” she said, vaguely. Reynard didn’t look any less confused.

    “What do you mean?”

    “I don’t mean anything. Listen,” she said, deciding maybe Gascon was right, just this once, in this very specific situation, “If I kissed you, right now, would it change anything between us?”

    He blinked at her.

    “No.”

    A trickle of cold water seeped through the cape and ran into her hair. She shifted forward, away from it and toward him, leaned in, and pressed her lips against his. He kissed her back, slightly uncertainly for a second or two, but when she moved closer and slid her right hand around the back of his neck his lips opened slightly and she could tell he stopped thinking about it. He was busy maintaining their ineffective shelter, but she had nothing in particular to do with her hands; she felt the pulse pounding in his throat with her left, ran her right through the short hairs on the back of his head, and let the electric feeling that crawled across her skin and the thundering in her ears drown out her thoughts until, after what felt like not much time at all, he gently pulled his head back.

    “Wind’s stopping,” he whispered. She paused, listening for the real thunder, from the storm. It still crashed overhead, but less often than it had before and mostly somewhere far off to the south; the rain had slowed from a waterfall to a minor downpour, and he was right about the wind. It had shifted direction again, to a gentler crossing breeze that smelled like the oncoming evening. She almost wished it wouldn’t, and the storm would keep going, but time passed whether she wanted it to or not. There were a lot of things she couldn’t control.

    If she was honest, given a few more minutes, she would be one of those things.

    “Damn,” she said, under her breath. “Just when things were going so well. Nothing can ever be easy.”

    “Complications,” he agreed, an ironic smile crossing his face that made her heart stop for a second. “What now?”

    “This,” she said and kissed him again for a long moment that felt like it would crash and burn if it went on. She dragged it out as much as she could, anyway, until a little voice in the back of her mind started warning that any more would result in them being discovered, or a Nilfgaardian cavalry unit would ride over the horizon while she was distracted, or someone would slip and fall on the wet grass, stab themselves on their own dagger, and trigger a day-long safety brief - or some other disaster would happen. He looked her in the eyes for the second or two more that she let herself waste, smiled slightly, like he knew what she was thinking, and then she forced herself away from him, out of the shelter of his cape and into the drizzle. A hint of blue sky was showing through the darkness on the northern horizon. The army was still battened down around them. An offended cluster of horses stood around a hundred yards away, dripping. Reynard carefully shook water off his cape and frowned disapprovingly around at the disorder.

    “About time we got going,” she agreed, reaching a hand toward him. He took it; she pulled him to his feet, smiled up at him for another strangely long second, and let him go.

    “I’m on it,” he said.