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honeybeezx · 3 years

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Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 5

Author’s Note: This took me literally forever to write😂 A lot will be happening in this chapter and the chapters to follow, but because of that, they may take longer for me to write. Thanks for baring with me guys and I’m so glad you all have been enjoying this as much as I love writing it!

Summary: The Silver Hawk competes in an archery competition at The Red Keep.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, blood

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Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up.

The mantra played over and over in your head as you laced your boots. Your hair was braided down your back, but no matter how hard you tried, a few whips of hair fell over your face. You knew it would not hinder your ability, but it annoyed you all the same.

“You ready for this, Little Hawk?” Bronn clasped his ginormous hand against your back and you nearly had the breath knocked from you. You bit back a cough and tried not to seem shaken by his surprise endearment that really felt more like an attack.

“Of course I’m ready.” You replied simply. You were confident in your abilities, but something didn’t seem right. There was a feeling rooted in your gut that told you to run, to get out of this as fast as you could. But your mind told you you were too far to turn back now.

Bronn smiled before looking at the flap of your tent, the only thing between you, the arena, the challengers, and the high society of Westeros. “Shoot straight, girl. Stun the livin’ daylights out of ‘em. Make anyone who ever underestimated you regret it.”

You smiled softly at Bronn. He was alright...sometimes.

You both turned your head at the trumpets sounding just outside your tent.

“Think that’s my cue.”

“Give ‘em hell.”

You adjusted your brace, made sure your quiver was tightly strapped to your back, and your bow tight in hand.

Time for battle.

You walked out of the tent and forced your eyes not to water at the blinding sun. It was such a large shift from the shaded tent, were you not accustomed to training your eyesight in various types of weather, you might have shed a tear or two at the brightness. You wondered if the other competitors could do the same.

There were people on all sides of you. It was overwhelming. Normally you could scout your area, eliminate threats before taking your place to shoot. Here the threats were like your own personal wall, a couple hundred of them surrounding you, anyone willing to strike at any moment.

But above them all were the only two you were seriously concerned about. Cersei, and her son, King Jeoffry of the Seven Kingdoms.

You introduced yourself and gave a small bow. This was the first time meeting the king after all. Both looked less than amused.

“You’re the best archer in the seven kingdoms?” The boy-king laughed. “Is this a joke? I have squires bigger and more impressive than you. You’re a...woman.”

If the king was trying to mock you, he was going to have to try a lot harder than that. What he had said hundreds of men had said before. “My skill doesn’t depend upon physical stature. Only a steady arm and a sharp eye. I’d like to compete and give a presentation of my skill if it pleases the king.” You responded with all the airs of a highborn. Highborn. You were no lower than them. If anything, you were above them where morality was concerned.

“I hope your skill is more impressive than the sight of you. My uncle speaks of you very highly, and I don’t like being disappointed.”

Imagine how the rest of us felt when you became king.

“Your uncle hates being wrong as much as you don’t like being disappointed, your grace. I don’t think he would have encouraged me to enter this most esteemed competition should he think you may be disappointed or should put his intelligent reputation at risk.” You teased, not above mocking your friend in public.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but knew he should choose his words carefully around the king. “You won’t be disappointed. I’m clearly not keeping her around because she’s good company.”

“She’ll put on a good show.” Cersei smirked.

It will be quite a show when you’re removed from power.

“We’ll see.” You took that as your cue to leave, knowing that was about as much as you could take from the Lannisters.

But when you turned around, you were finally met with the other competitors. They all looked intimidating, but you didn’t feel intimidated. You would only feel that once you saw their skill. You had learned a long time ago that many men liked to look tough without actually being so, and in the skill of archery, no amount of muscle or fancy armor would help you win a competition.

You estimated about 25 yards between you and the target as you stood before it. You had it targets from farther away, but whether or not you could hit the center of a target was another matter completely. You couldn’t remember the last time you had shot arrows for a tournament. Your arrows were meant for damned people, not for sport. But you could use more money, you needed money to survive.

At least that was how you were going to justify all this to yourself.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the sun catch something shiny and gold. You turned your head to find Ellaria in a peach-colored dress with gold embellishments, and Oberyn in a burnt sienna cloak with the very same embellishments. Both pairs of eyes had settled on you, sparkling with excitement. Oberyn gave you a small nod of encouragement. Show them what you have, brave girl.

“The rules are simple.” The squire began, bringing you and the other competitors to attention. “Whoever does not hit the center of the target is eliminated. After each round, the contestants will move back more and more until one person is standing. Competitors, draw your bows.”

Everyone did as commanded. You took a deep breath.

“Shoot.”

You let the arrow fly without a single thought.

It pierced the center of the target effortlessly. The tall, brutish man next to you did the exact same thing. You saw a few others had as well, and a few who had missed by just a sliver. The man glared at you, but you held your gaze.

You’re the competition here. Most of these people probably know who you are and want nothing more than to beat the legendary Silver Hawk. Do not let some man with more muscles than brains take your place.

“Walk 15 paces back.” The page instructed. You all did as you were told. When the page was sure everyone was in an even line, he signaled to draw your bow again.

“Shoot.”

Your arrow pierced the middle of the target once again, just a hair away from your last arrow. You were making this look easy. No one left this round. The obvious amateurs were gone within the first round. The real competition began now.

It was the same thing over and over again, and honestly? You were getting a little bored. Shoot. Walk back 15 paces. Shoot. Walk back 15 more paces.

Until it wasn’t that anymore.

You were at the edge of the arena. You didn’t even notice that it was only the brute and you. He had hit every single arrow in the middle of the target just as you had. You could tell his bow was handcrafted, and his arrows were from the smoothest steel. He was as knowledgeable as you when it came to wielding a bow, a worthy competitor too, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

The target was easily 75 yards or so away. You didn’t know if even you could hit that. This was certainly the farthest you had ever been. You would have never taken this shot if it were an animal or someone you needed to eliminate. Was this easy for your competitor? He didn’t look even a tad nervous, you hoped you didn’t either. You did look focused though, as you considered the distance, the wind, your own strength. Would your bow even shoot that far?

Guess you were about to find out.

“Archers, draw your bow.”

You did as you were told, and closed your eyes, just for a second. You felt the fletching brush against the tips of your fingers, your hand holding onto the leather grip firmly, the cool silver of your arrow brushing against your cheek for just a second, your feet planted into the earth. The world fell around you. All you knew was the arrow, and how to make it fly.

And it did.

Flew just inside the center of the target, just barely making a bullseye.

The man’s arrow was just outside.

“Yes!!!” Bronn jumped up and pumped a fist in the air. “That’s our girl!!”

“Did you have any doubt that she could do it?” Tyrion asked cheekily, secretly elated that his champion won the whole tournament, that his friend had her moment of glory.

“It seems I will find myself short of some money.” Oberyn chuckled. “Your Silver Hawk, Lord Tyrion...she is very special.” He said, smiling at you from afar.

Tyrion smiled too. “Yes, she is.”

You let yourself laugh as the sound of applause filled your ears. Even your opponent offered his hand.

“You’re a fine shot. I’m just glad the stories are true. I didn’t want to leave here disappointed.” The man winked at you before taking his leave. You were about to take your leave as well when a voice called out over the cheer of the crowd.

“Wait!”

Your head whipped around. For a moment you forgot the golden-haired king entirely. He studied you with a vicious glare in his eyes that made you uneasy. You tried not to show it, but it was no use.

“Bring out the prisoner from yesterday.” The king commanded.

After a moment, the guard brought out a prisoner in chains. He was a big man, balding and bearded. He looked scared out of his wits and you were more nervous for him than you were for yourself.

“Chain him to a post.”

The guards did as they were told and chained the prisoner to one of the posts holding up the arena. The scared and nervous expression that matched his let him know you were not in on whatever this was.

“Place an apple on his head.”

Fuck.

A target was one thing, but a man’s life now rested in your hands. If you missed, it was his life in the line. The pressure was more intense now. The tournament was to uphold your reputation, it was all you had. But this was something much more frightening. To take the life of terrible people who hurt other people was one thing, to take the life of an innocent person was another, and even more so, to do it by accident.

“Shoot the apple.”

You once again scouted the distance. It was far, but you wouldn’t hurt this man. You would aim high, you’d rather miss far over his head than to pierce it. You gave a small nod to the man. I won’t hurt you, I promise.

You set your target. You aimed a bit higher than the center, not wanting the arrow to be any closer to his head than it needed to be.

1...2...

The juices of the apple ran down the man’s temple and dripped from his chin. The man looked like he could have passed out from relief, or maybe because he didn’t breathe that entire time.

“Oh sweet gods above, thank you! Thank you milady, don’t know ‘ow to repay you”

You smiled kindly at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No need to thank or pay me. I don’t harm people without actual cause, and you’ve done me no offense.”

“Now shoot him.”

Your heart stopped in your chest. Your eyes grew wide, looking. To the other to make sure you heard that right, but his fear matched yours.

Even Tyrion looked to his nephew in horror. “Perhaps, nephew, you forget that this is a tournament and not an execution. This is not what she signed up for, this is not what we agreed on.”

“I don’t need to comply with your deal or her conditions. I am king, and you would do best to remember that, uncle, before you are the one tied to the post.” Jeoffey spat.

You tried to clear your head. How could you possibly get out of this? “If I am to shoot him, I would like to know the nature of his crimes.” You demanded.

“He stole wine and has been rotting in a cell. He takes up space there. I want him disposed of.”

All of this for some wine? “Surely your grace can find some other use for him? There is much to be done around the palace with your wedding approaching so soon, is there not? Perhaps he could serve as staff around the castle or-“

“Look at him!” He spat. “He’s fat, pathetic, and lazy. He’s no use to me. Shoot him or die, those are your options.”

Oberyn stood before the queen regent, his fist balled. “Convince your son to forget this. The Silver Hawk has done her part, she’s won the tournament. She kills for Tyrion, not Jeoffey, and even then she does not strike me as the type of person to just kill anyone. Everyone’s been entertained enough.”

Cersei just smiled something wicked. “I have no influence over my son. He is king, his word is the law. If the Silver Hawk is as good as she says, she’ll be able to do this, I doubt you have any cause for concern.” She smirked before sipping her wine.

Oberyn gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the queen. “She will not forget this if you make her take this man’s life. She does not kill without reason, but the murder of this man would give her cause to take revenge in the future. Don’t put her through this, and don’t give her an excuse to send one of her arrows flying in yours or your son’s direction.”

Cersei laughed. “You think she would be so stupid? She won’t do anything, not if she values her life.” Cersei leaned towards the Dornishman like she was letting him in on a secret. “The Hawk needs to learn when she is beat, when her arrows can’t save her. This will just teach her. This is good for everyone.”

“Good for everyone? Or good for your pride?”

They didn’t call him the Red Viper for nothing. His tongue was as quick as a snake's bite.

Cersei narrowed her eyes. “Step down Prince Oberyn. You and the Hawk aren’t winning this one.”

Oberyn and Tyrion shared a look of dread before returning their attention to you.

Your mind reeled. Think, think, think. What would Tyrion say or do to get out of this?

Shoot him or die, those are your options.

You took your position and tried not to look at the man for too long. He was trembling, crying, trying to break free and you couldn’t take it. You let your arrow fly.

The man let out a wail as the arrow pierced his leg. But before Jeoffery could protest, you intervened. “You asked me to shoot him my lord, so I did. You wish to dispose of him. Perhaps, Prince Oberyn, you will accept this man as a gift from Kings Landing, welcoming you to our city, and being a most gracious and humble guest. Do with him as you please since he is not fit to stay here.”

Oberyn chuckled and gave a dazzling smile. Now how did she come to think of that?

“Of course. Dorne welcomes all people. You would be most welcome in my family’s city. I could use a court jester. Once I have him trained you may visit him in Dorne, King Jeoffery.” Jeoffery seemed to quite like the thought of that. But you knew better. The same Oberyn who spoke of equality among people, the man who spoke of love and compassion would not make a joke of a poor, innocent man. And Jeoffery would be too consumed with power to think about taking a nice little trip to Dorne. “He may return with Ellaria and I when we depart.” Oberyn nodded.

You knew it was dangerous to say anything right now, you were already dancing with death as it was. But your eyes met the Prince’s, and at once he understood your level of gratitude.

“Take him to Prince Oberyn’s quarters. Chain him up there. Let the Dornish deal with this filth.” Jeoffery scoffed.

Cersei looked as if she could order to have you killed right that instant.

“Why don’t we enjoy some wine of our own to celebrate my champion’s victory? All this excitement is leaving me parched.” Tyrion suggested before his sister could do something brash.

And just like that, the festivities came to an end. As soon as you were out of sight, you stealthily followed the guards to the Lannister brothel. Firstly to escape any harm, secondly, to find the man you had just shot. You entered the brothel through the window, only to be met with the shocked face of a young girl.

“Where’s the man with an arrow in his leg?” You asked one of the girls frantically but in hushed tones. You didn’t need the guards or other Lannisters knowing you were here.

“H-He’s up the stairs in the back rooms on the left. He’s in a bad way.” The girl croaked out.

Sometimes you forgot how intimidating you could be.

“Do you have alcohol? I have to tend to him. I need alcohol and some cloth.” You tried asking in a much softer, calmer voice.

The girl nodded and scurried off. You made your way up the stairs and found the farthest back room on the left. You found the man withering in pain on the bed.

“You need to try and control your breathing. I’m not going to be able to help you if you’re all panicked. I know it’s hard, but you have to trust me.”

The man nodded and tried to hold back the tears in his eyes. You took deep breaths, and he tried breathing with you. “You saved my life...damned my leg but saved my life. Went through an awful lot of trouble. I’m surprised Cersei didn’t kill you right there.”

You knelt next to the man to observe his wounds. “Cersei doesn’t scare me.” You said confidently. “Just because she has power doesn’t make her a true ruler, nor her son, or any of the Lannisters. They only have power if they think we fear them.”

“Most do fear them though. And if they ‘ave the power they can ‘urt us, they ‘ave ‘urt us. Nearly killed me over some wine.” He huffed.

“If more people stood against them they wouldn’t have so much power.” They would have their status, they would have their wealth, but if the people started revolting, the people would stand a chance. Sadly, you knew the Lannisters already evoked too much fear into the hearts of the people they’re supposed to be protecting for anything to happen, at least not now. “I understand...not wanting to stand against them. I’m under the protection of Tyrion so I have more freedoms. I’m just glad King Jeoffery reacted well to the decision not to kill you.”

“'Aye, that makes two of us.”

You turned your head at the sound of a door opening. You were expecting the young girl from before only for your eyes to meet Ellaria’s dark ones. She came in with the cloth and a bag of assorted ointments which she promptly dumped on the bed before unchaining the man.

“How are you?” She asked the man frantically, her mind only focused on helping him.

“Well, other than an arrow bein’ in me leg I’m just great.” He quipped.

“He’s calmed down a lot. We should be ready.”

Ellaria nodded her head, knowing what you meant.

“Ready for-“

Before he could finish, you quickly removed the arrow from his leg. He howled in pain, but Ellaria was working fast. She made quick work of using the ointments and tying his leg tight with the cloth to stop the blood flow.

The man was sobbing and gripping your arm like his life depended on it. It hurt, but you bit back your pain. Didn’t seem right to complain when the man just had an arrow ripped out of his leg.

Oberyn entered and knelt next to you, offering the man a cup. “Drink this. It will help with the pain and help you sleep. It’s a sedative of sorts.”

The man quickly downed the tea, willing to do anything to get rid of the ridiculous amount of pain. He handed the cup to you and laid his head back against the pillow. “Thank you, all of you. I owe you all my life.”

“Just get some rest. Your body has gone through a lot today and you’ll need sleep to recover your strength.” You chided, standing up to leave. Oberyn and Ellaria followed to leave the man in peace.

“Thank you for helping him, both of you. He is alive because of your kindness.” You thanked. You couldn’t help but be a bit surprised. Most royalty would not have cared about the life of one poor commoner, but neither of them wasted any time in helping him. The more you learned about the two of them the more questions you asked. Why were they so different from the highborn you’ve met? You shouldn’t like them as much as you do. Highborn were supposed to be snobbish, egotistical, and rude, they were supposed to be like the Lannisters.

But they weren’t.

“It is you he should thank. If you wouldn’t have tricked the king like that, you would have had no choice but to kill him to save yourself.” Ellaria reasoned.

But you were having none of it. “I still shot him with an arrow. He would still be in pain were it not for the ointments and tea. And you,” you began, turning towards Oberyn, “were you serious about bringing him to Dorne?”

Oberyn smiled and nodded. “Yes, though I am in no need of a jester, my family keeps me entertained enough.” He laughed. “But I will take him to Dorne. From there he can do as he pleases. If he does not wish to stay in Dorne I will find him passage somewhere else. Every innocent man should be free. Stealing some wine does not warrant death, nor imprisonment when they have enough Dornish wine to fill the Shivering Sea.”

“Thank you.” You smiled kindly, placing a hand on his arm. You both locked eyes for a moment and your heart skipped a beat.

What the fuck is this?

Why were your cheeks getting hot? Why did your whole body feel warm and light?

“Ahem.” Ellaria intervened, smirking all the while. You broke your gaze and returned your attention to Ellaria. “I am not as generous as my lover. I demand payment for my services. I spent good money on those ointments.”

You were surprised by Ellaria’s sudden shift in behavior. She had all the riches in the world and she wanted payment? “I earned my money and you have-“

“A dance.” She interrupted before you could rattle off your other five reasons why she wasn’t getting your money. “A dance at the boy Lannister’s wedding. One with each of us.”

Of course that’s what she wanted.

You wanted to say no, you almost did. But Ellaria had spared her ointments and Oberyn put himself in harm's way just by siding with you when you tricked Jeoffery. Sure, Jeoffery had been amused with the idea of the man as a jester for the Dornish, but Oberyn didn’t know the king would go along with it. And they both of them were certainly not going to be in the good graces of Cersei now.

Not that they were to begin with, but this certainly didn’t help matters.

“I don’t know if you even want to make that request, Ellaria. I’m not a dancer-“

“We will teach you.” Oberyn interrupted before you could protest more, clearly excited by his lover’s suggestion. “I am familiar with certain dances, but Ellaria is the best dancer in Dorne. She can teach anyone to dance.” He purred, pulling her closer to his side before they gazed at each other lovingly.

It was disgustingly cute.

Ellaria playfully hit his chest. “He praises me too much, but I will teach you. You are light on your feet, no? You will not be as bad as you think.”

You sighed, knowing you were going to regret this. “Seems I cannot refuse.” You gave them both a soft smile. “I owe you both, and seeing as I am employed by a Lannister, I can’t very well avoid paying my debt. I would be honored to share a dance with both of you.”

“Good.” Ellaria smiled cheekily. “And since it was my idea, I get first dance.” She teased her lover, in which he grabbed her waist forcefully and pulled her close to him, pecking her lips, but sparing you any more public displays of affection.

Secretly, you didn’t mind. They were actually quite cute when you didn’t have to scold them for trying to make you so flustered.

“I suppose I can live with that considering I will have the pleasure of dancing with the two most beautiful women in the capital.”

You smiled softly and blushed.

Then you quickly remembered yourself.

You cleared your throat. “Anyways, I need to return to The Red Keep. I’m sure Tyrion is waiting to scold me about infuriating his sister again. I better get it all over with now.” It was a lame and rather pathetic excuse, but if you didn’t leave soon you were afraid they would make some remark on the sudden flustered state you now found yourself in.

“We will see you in a few days then. Stay guarded, Silver Hawk. Our actions did not please Cersei, she was rather determined to see you kill that man today and she did not get what she wanted. Find us should anything happen.” Oberyn instructed, his sultry voice turning into something much more serious.

Ellaria’s eyes met yours. She was worried, genuinely worried. Every part of you wanted to somehow console her, to assure both of them that you would be okay. But you felt the beating of your heart pick up the pace. Tyrion, Shae, Bronn, they all worried about you, but it was always lighthearted, worry hid under a joke or a tease. But the Dornish knew no such thing, they felt everything, wore everything on their sleeve, and damned all who had anything to say about it. It was a different kind of bravery. It wasn’t charging head-first into battle, but it was more than you could ever muster, more than you’ve ever known or allowed yourself to feel. And it scared you. Because one person caring for you like this was intimidating, two people were terrifying.

“I will not hesitate to seek you both out should anything happen.” You promised. They had earned your trust, despite every bone in your body that still rebelled against them. They risked their alliance with the Lannisters and went out of their way to help a man they didn’t know, a man they didn’t have to save. There was something to be said in that.

You exited the brothel and returned to the palace. You stocked your arrows and checked your armor. The wedding would only be days away. What would become of the Dornish? Would they ever return? Could you ever go to them?

And why were you thinking of these things? It didn’t matter where they would go. They would do as they pleased and you would go where Tyrion led. Tyrion, Shae, Bronn, they were home. But when you slept that night, your mind was filled with flashes of warm oranges, golds, yellows, bronzed skin, sharp features, dark hair, and eyes that could switch between sharp and kind in an instant.

But you didn’t see red.

Not yet.

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Tag List (if I’m missing someone or if you would like to be added please let me know!): @ilikechocolatemilkh @rpcvliz @janelongxox @evyiione @grogusmum

#armor #oberyn x you #oberyn x you x ellaria #oberyn x reader x ellaria #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #game of thrones #game of thrones fic #got #oberyn martell imagine

78 notes · View notes

sidgenoabofest · 4 years

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Remember, you can write for as many or as few prompts as you’d like! And check out the updated FAQ and Timeline pages or send us an Ask if your have any questions. Happy writing!

1. Mpreg

2. Courting

3. Omega/Omega

4. Jealous mate

5. Lactation kink

6. Mermaid a/b/o au

7. Mail order bride!!!

8. Subversion/Inversion

9. Non-traditional dynamics

10. Very elaborative courting

11. oral knotting + cock warming

12. Geno’s first heat in America.

13. Little Drummer Girl au but a/b/o

14. alpha/alpha first time taking a knot

15. a xeno take on heat and abo dynamics

16. Geno falling for Ace!Sid in an a/b/o au

17. Mutual pining where they’re both Alpha’s

18. Hockey player Alpha Geno, non hockey Sid

19. Alpha!Geno’s dick is too big when he knots

20. Geno and Anna (alphas) try to woo Sid (omega)

21. Regency AU arranged marriage with shy omega Sid

22. Rival teammates and one goes into heat mid game

23. a/b/o dynamics based on lions, rather than wolves

24. beta/omega; first time going through heat together

25. Alpha-Alpha dynamic going into rut on the team plane

26. cockwarming as self-care and/or somebody's love language

27. Sometimes Sid will let Geno fuck his thighs and let him knot.

28. Alien Alpha Sid captures Earthling Omega Geno in his tractor beam

29. Snowed in and/or cabin fic where one of them goes into heat or rut

30. Mafia boss Geno, with husband omega Sid, who is still a boss in his own right

31. Sid's knot takes forever to go down. They work around it with cosy movie nights.

32. Alpha Sid being all worked up over pregnant geno.... and perhaps overly protective…

33. Sid being scent blind and falling in love with Geno the long way, while Geno pines and pines

34. Sid goes into a full on mating heat at the West Point hill climb, Geno fights off all comers.

35. Geno is intersex, with physical characteristics of both alpha and omega. Sid's into all of him.

36. Evgeni always goes to Sidney post heat (or rut). It’s one of many things they don’t talk about.

37. During a goal celebration, Sid and Geno experience a spontaneous bond. It freaks all involved out.

38. Alpha/Alpha rival knight au or Alpha knight and Omega squire? Just something with romance and armour.

39. Tired of being teased and the punchlines of locker room jokes, Sid asked Geno to take his virginity/knot him.

40. Geno and Sid as two alphas who pine for each other and try to pretend they don’t want each other, but they do.

41. sid has a kink for fucking new brides, so omega geno dresses up in bridal lingerie and begs sid to knock him up

42. Alphas and omegas will fuck betas, but they don’t end up staying with them. This is what Sidney knows from experience.

43. Medieval abo au, Sid's castle is small and he and Geno have to consummate their marriage in front of all of Sid's patrons

44. omega/omega pregnancy kink, no getting pregnant angst, just skip right to the good stuff: already pregnant and horny about it.

45. rookie sid and geno are still a bit too young for a real heat, so they put in some practice together and things get out of hand

46. “i’m rich and i’m not supposed to talk to servants but the person that scrubs my floor is really cute” (/smells fucking amazing)

47. New relationship during the holidays and somebody forgot to take their suppressant and goes into rut in between dinner and dessert

48. Omega Sid and alpha Geno hook up, it's a one night stand. Sid notices he's pregnant a couple weeks after and goes to hunt down Geno

49. Baby NHL omegas come to Sid for advice on omegas working with alphas, dating etiquette with alphas and what its like to get knotted by an alpha.

50. Alpha Geno courting Omega Sid to be allowed to mate him, over expensive gifts to dinner invitations to being possessive and protective on the ice

51. Sid can’t stand being touched or scent marked by strangers, but Geno’s never been that to him. (Authors choice re: what designations they each have)

52. Regency AU: Mr Sidney Crosby is as well know for his big estate and he wealth as he is for being an omega who tops all the alpha gentlemen he take to his bed

53. Sid is always yapping on the bench, but in relationships his communication skills go right down the drain when he has a cold and can't rely on scent cues for help.

54. you rescued me from the creepy person that was hitting on me in the bar and i’m glad you did because MMHMMM you are hot and smell like nothing i’ve ever smelled before

55. Sid is a beta who Geno always calls on when he goes into heat/rut. It’s fun and no strings attached and they’re friends. Only Geno slowly realises he wants more than that

56. one is an omega and the other is a beta (the inherent convenience of a self-slicking butthole; the beta figuring out how to satisfy their partner in heat, who can go for HOURS)

57. Only werewolves are a/b/o’s, humans are just humans. As a general rule human!Sid stays out of wolf business but Evgeni keeps making it his business by acting like Sidney’s *his.*

58. sid being teased relentlessly for his big alpha dick in the locker room, and loving it, kinda strutting around naked but also going all pink, and geno really LOOKING for the first time

59. Sid has been on high level suppressants since juniors and nobody knows if he's hiding being an alpha or an omega. Geno has been curious for YEARS but never asked, till something happens.

60. One of their alpha/omega statuses doesn't kick in until after retirement-- they spent a good portion of life thinking they were a beta but now that shit is going BANANAS. Puberty at age 40

61. Sid/Geno/Anna where Sid + Geno are both Omegas and have banded together like "we don't need any alpha nonsense" but then Geno meets Alpha Anna at the Olympics and shit gets real, real fast.

62. Tradition has it, your mate is supposed to smell best to you. But Sid usually smells like old milk. How the fuck is Geno supposed to work around that? Because Sid is definitely the one he wants.

63. Alpha Sid's enthralled with Geno's omega trills. Geno's kind of a picky eater (like he's picky about everything) Sid revels in the challenge of finding snacks and gifts that will make Geno trill

64. geno's heats come on fast and with no warning, sometimes in the middle of a game, so once in a while sid can help a buddy out and slip geno some fingers to just get him through to the intermission

65. Established Sid and Geno who have not bonded for some reason (is one beta? are they waiting for something?), with a side of whoops, accidentally bonded to someone else in a heat-related medical emergency.

66. You’re an actor/other famous person that I really admire and I just saw you in the street and as I was debating whether or not to say hi you came up to me and started flirting what do I do?? (but make it hockey abo)

67. Sexual dysfunction: Maybe an alpha who's having trouble knotting, or a bata having a hard time staying hard his fist time dating an omega, or an omaga who's having issues self lubricating. Emotional comfort through sex!

68. Camboy or porn AU where the one who does sex work specializes in alpha/alpha or omega/omega porn. Ideally the one watching is still an NHL player and has some complicated feelings around their own same-gender preferences.

69. one is an alpha and the other is a beta (first time getting knotted and being overwhelmed by it plus like LOTS of lube; or the alpha likes getting fucked but doesn't like to be knotted so a beta partner is the perfect option)

70. omega/omega sid figuring out how to top geno's giant peach ass when omegas aren't particularly well-endowed (dick-extending knotting dildo? practicing flexibility? finger-shaped bruises trying to keep those cheeks pried open?)

71. Green card heat bond au! The KHL don’t want to release Geno from his contract to let him play in the NHL. It’s becoming messy and it looks like the Penguins may lose their legal case when someone suggests a heat bond green card.

72. Trophy wife Geno: He likes to be pampered, he like his valour track suits, he likes lounging around in fur coats, and he likes getting knotted when Sid comes back from a win...and maybe even more when he comes back from a loss…

73. Heatfic PWP set during Geno’s rookie year when he barely speaks any English. Up to you which one is in heat—I just like the idea of Sid and Geno trying awkwardly to communicate & then not really needing to once instinct takes over.

74. Beauty and the beats/ or some kind of monster au. Geno is saved by Beast!Sid and nursed back to health in his castle. By the end Geno is as in love with the monster as he is with Sid's other self. This could be any dynamic combination.

75. Sid’s concussion messing up his alpha or omega cycle, or maybe delaying him from differentiating. Everyone calls him a late bloomer, which Sid doesn’t care about except when he sometimes sees Geno post heat/rut and feels confusing stuff

76. ABO specific sex toys: training knots for omega's, dilators for alphas and betas who want to sleep with other alphas, knotting flashlights, double headed dildos for omega/omega pairs? The list goes on! The only limit is your imagination.

77. Geno - omega who's never gone into heat. Maybe he never will. Despite the pessimism of his younger years, this has turned out to fine, because he and Sid have an excellent and well-established sex life regardless, and SID's heats are pretty great for both of them.

78. Nontraditional abo dynamic frat au: Either with alphas, betas, and omegas all in the same house or maybe separate different fraternities? It could be two competing alpha's from different frat houses? or maybe a beta at an omega house party feeling *very overwhelmed*

79. Geno breaks up after bonding with someone. It’s sudden and it happens mid-season and he can’t go home to lick his wounds so instead his bond-withdrawal becomes a team issue. The trainers and medics all have opinions and advice, but it’s Sid who gets him through the worst of it.

80. Omega Sid is wedded to foreign Prince Alpha Geno because male Omegas are rare and a 'sign to God'. The marriage is a sign of goodwill from the people of Sid's kingdom, he's a low noble but his Omega status makes him more worthy. They meet for the first time in front of the altar

81. Omega Sid is ‘President’ of the NHL omega groupchat/association, Sid and Seguin have a friendship forged through both declaring they “dont need no Alpha!” But cant stop having ‘issues’ with their closest Alpha on their teams. Sid-Seguin gossipy omega friendship as they explore life getting closer to alphas (Geno, Benn)

82. Beta Sid's the king of locker room talk and all the rowdy shenanigans that go on there. He flirts with everyone shamelessly and Geno has no idea how he's supposed to tell if Sid's being serious or not when he tells Geno to "take a picture, it will last longer" or something to that degree. (He really wants Sid to be serious).

83. Age difference Coach Sid/ Rookie Geno au. Geno needs to get bonded to be allowed to travel overseas and play for the Penguins. Sid agrees to be his alpha without really thinking about it until Geno shows up wide-eyed and perky at his front door and things just derail from there. (and by derail I mean office sex at the arena.)

84. Sid is an Omega but pretends to be a suppressed alpha as omegas are considered special and rare, almost local celebrities unto themselves, plus most wouldnt want to see an Omega risking injury playing professional sport. The presence of an ideal Alpha in Geno is making it harder and harder to hide his omega side and instincts.

85. After the NHL All Star Game, alpha Sid ends up with omega Geno’s gear bag. Sid doesn’t realize the mix-up until he gets home. When he opens the bag, he instantly recognizes the smell of omega arousal, and a couple of things become clear: Geno was getting hot while playing in the ASG, and Sid has unfettered, private access to Geno’s scent.

86. Pirates of the Caribbean/Black Sails au—Zhenya is a wealthy young omega hostage on pirate Sid's ship. In the end Sid can’t follow through and hand Zhenya over to the people who want him in exchange for gold. (or maybe Zhenya offers knowledge of something better for them to steal in order to save himself and they fall in love during the adventure)

87. Someone tried to take advantage of Sid while in heat/rut; it’s something that Geno hears whispers of when he is a rookie, but no one talks about it and Geno doesn’t have a nearly good enough grasp on English to try. He just stays later to practice with Sid and sits next to him at clubs and uses his body to block people when they try to touch Sid.

88. After years of dancing around their feelings, AlphaGeno and OmegaSid start ‘hooking up’ and then accidentally bond in The Playoffs bubble. This is a problem because newly bonded omegas tend to become bratty and act out in many ways and try to test their alpha, sometimes taunting other alphas to see if their own alpha will come defend them. Chaos on and off the ice ensues.

89. Werewolf/abo au: an unsuspecting Geno (omega or beta) comes across Alpha Sid's pack (maybe on a full moon run or Sid helps him with car troubles in a snow storm or maybe Geno visits Sid's pack after moving to the area as a gesture of good will.) Either way, Sid knows as soon as he sees Geno that he wants him for his bond mate, and will do whatever it takes to get him to agree.

90. Geno scent marking Sid; maybe they’re not bonded or in a relationship but Sid is *his*; his captain, his friend, the person who laughs at Geno’s jokes and exchanges knowing looks with Geno whenever one of their teammates does something dumb. It’s possessive and technically rude, but whatever. Sid likes it, Geno argues when someone (Flower, probably) tries to call him out for it.

91. Rookie Geno is ultra-competitive about everything from who goes last out of the locker room to how many eggs he can eat in a minute. Everyone sees it as Geno locking horns with Sid, competing as young alphas do. Only, Sid doesn’t seem offended or annoyed. If anything, he seems delighted and more than a little turned on. (Bonus points if everybody is wrong about one of them being an alpha).

92. Alpha sid being possessive and jealous over oblivious omega geno and maybe getting into a fight (throw in some alpha ovi shipping these idiots but also teasing sid about his and geno’s past hookups because he might be onboard the Sid geno train but he’s also a sassy bitch about it) bonus if it also has backy/ovi (if we squint not here to take the spotlight away from the two headed monster)

93. Mail Order Alpha AU: To Play in the KHL Omega Geno needs to be bonded. Metallurge team management offers him many options for Russian suitors, but Geno being Geno doesn’t like being told what to do. Instead of accepting any of those, he finds himself a nice Canadian alpha on "mail order bride" message boards. Bonus points for slightly awkward but also hot “bonding night scene” and Sid charming Geno's family with his broken Russian.

94. Sid never joins in with any of the rowdy locker room talk about hook ups/sex/knots/heats/ruts. Some of the guys joke it’s because Sid’s a virgin or frigid. Geno knows that isn’t true, because they hooked up one time when they were rookies. In retrospect he thinks it was probably Sid’s first time, and he knows he messed it up because instead of talking to Sid and seeing if they had anything real, Geno got back together with Oksana. It’s been years since then, and he and Sid are friends, but sometimes Geno wonder’s ‘what if...’

95. Geno broke an Alpha/Omega bond when he escaped from Russia to come to the NHL. He promised himself he’d never bond with anyone else ever again. He’d just have fun. And he is having fun fucking around. He was never allowed to do that at home. He probably shouldn’t be doing it in the west because he’s getting a reputation but he doesn’t care. He’s free and no one can tell him what to do. It’s his life and his choices and he’s never going to bond with anyone ever again. Only without noticing he finds himself falling for his best friend, Sidney.

96. nesting!! it can be because one of them is pregnant, or something bond/hormone related, or just a pre-heat behavior, but i love fics where the omega partner is secretly stealing the other one's clothes and small personal belongings to make a nice safe nest/den in a closet or spare room or even a trainer's room at the rink. i especially love this trope if the nesting partner is a little embarrassed or evasive about it, lol. my heart says it's sid who's building a nest out of geno's things (and being a little squirrely about it trying to keep it secret) but i think an omega!geno version would also be delightful.

97. Demisexual!Sid in an a/b/o world where designation/romance/sex has never been a big deal to him. He’s never understood his teammates stories of losing their minds with heat lust, or falling in love at first scent or losing days in bed with someone riding out their heat/rut or anything like that. Most people tell him, he’ll understand one day when the right alpha/omega/beta comes along or question if something is wrong with his designation/him. Geno never does. For the longest time Geno is one of the few friends who doesn’t think anything is wrong with him. But the problem with friends is sometimes Sid falls for them.

98. I'd love to read an a/b/o fic involving an unplanned pregnancy. Maybe they're in some kind of casual fwb arrangement off and on for years, or maybe they just hooked up the one time and had tacitly agreed to never speak of it again. I'd read pretty much any take on this prompt -- an Obvious Child-esque version where they decide to have an abortion but also realize they have feelings for each other; a version where they decide to have a baby but both think the other just wants to be friends and co-parents (not romantically involved); a version where the pregnancy forces them to reckon with their true feelings for each other... really, anything goes!

99. Loser's sacrifice / victor's prize fic, version 1: Geno wasn't drafted by the Pens, and he and Sid have spent their whole careers as rival captains (you can decide if it's a no-love-lost rivalry or just mutual respect for each other or a hatesex chemistry type dynamic). The Pens lose to Sid's team, and Sid offers himself to Geno as the victor's prize. (I'd read any version of this, but I'd especially love an alpha!Geno / omega!Sid fic where Sid's the only omega captain in a predominantly alpha league -- and this creates some weird tensions, because the sacrifice is supposed to be about the humiliation of an alpha having to submit to another alpha. Maybe Sid doesn't usually accept or offer sacrifice (someone else on the team does it for him).

100. Loser's sacrifice / victor's prize fic, version 2: Sid and Geno are together (you can decide how serious it is). After a bad loss one night, Sid offers himself as the sacrifice to the opposing team (or maybe just to their captain). Geno is insanely jealous and territorial about it and pretends to be sulky/angry, but in the days after he can't stop furtively jacking off thinking about it. Sid figures it out eventually, and somehow it becomes a thing for them. Sid starts regularly offering himself as sacrifice but always comes to Geno immediately afterwards, smelling of the opposing captain/team, so Geno can fuck someone else's come out of him while Sid tells him everything the team did to him.

101. I've been thinking about an a/o universe where non-alpha/omega pairings are still socially stigmatized, but there's an active scent-masking party/club scene, where people take blockers and go to hook up with other people without knowing what their dynamic is. Maybe the clubs themselves are a little taboo -- sort of like gay bathhouses in the '70s or private BDSM clubs -- so it's mostly people who are in the know, and there's a general understanding that you don't acknowledge people you meet there if you encounter them out in the world. I'd love an alpha/alpha fic set in this verse - could be a non-hockey AU where Sid and Geno meet at one of these clubs, or a canon fic where they don't realize the other is into alphas until they're out of town on a road trip and they run into each other at one of these clubs.

102. There are no omegas in the NHL—at least as far as anyone knows. Sid’s been taking illegal scent-blockers/suppressants and passing as a beta since he presented as an omega as a teen. The only people who know the truth are his parents, his agent, and Jack Johnson (who helped make excuses for Sid at SSM during his first heat). Sid doesn’t intend to reveal his secondary gender until his retirement—once he’s won a Cup or three and gold for Canada and proven decisively that omegas can play at the highest levels. Except something happens (his supply of blockers is interrupted, or he has a breakthrough heat, or something) and Geno finds out. I’d especially love it if this was early in their NHL careers, before they knew/trusted each other and were able to communicate well, but I’d definitely also read a fic where Geno finds out many years into their friendship, and has to grapple with how much Sid’s hidden from him.

103. old timey pirate AU! sid’s a naval officer who’s clawed his way up the ranks despite significant prejudice against omegas. he’s achieved his dream of captaining a ship, but his life is a lonely one, in part because he can’t let himself be vulnerable with anyone (in case they use it against him to challenge his leadership). the only bright spot in his life is the years-long cat-and-mouse game he’s been playing with evgeni malkin, a notorious russian pirate captain who‘s managed to evade arrest for years, often by tricking the navy or managing to cleverly conceal his crew’s stolen loot when their ship is boarded by the Navy. Geno’s an alpha, but unlike Sid’s fellow officers, he’s always treated Sid with the utmost respect—even if he also gleefully delights in tricking Sid’s men and repeatedly evading capture. in fact, after years of meeting in various port towns and at sea, Geno seems to consider Sid a friend. (Sid knows Geno finds him attractive, too, and has made it clear—always teasingly, never in a pushy or aggressive way—that he’s available, should Sid ever want to go to bed with an alpha.) up to you what the plot is, but I’d love something where Geno’s luck finally runs out, and Sid’s the one who‘s tasked with bringing him back to shore to be tried (and most likely hanged) for piracy. make Sid choose between his honor + love of rules and his unacknowledged feelings for geno!!

#sidgeno #sidgenoabofest

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peregrin-tookish · 4 years

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Agrivaine Headcanons

(These go with the Squire’s Tales series. However, most of them could fit with other versions.)

Throughout most of the series, Agrivaine is mostly seen as a side character or only in relation to his brothers whom we get to know well. He only gains importance at the end and even then he isn’t the master of anything.

I became fascinated with “the overlooked Orkney brother.” We learn the basics of his upbringing from Gawain and Gaheris, but nothing about him as an individual. Here’s what I’ve come up with over the past few months:

He’s more booksmart than either Gawain or Gareth.

He had a twin brother named Clarence. They were closer than close and Agrivaine loved him more than life itself. During the war with Arthur, Clarence went along with Lot as a page. He wasn’t fighting, but he was watching the battle and was killed by a stray English arrow. Agrivaine never fully got over his death and never stopped blaming Arthur.*

He takes after his father’s side of the family in many ways.

Agrivaine was more emotionally affected by the constant wars during his childhood than his siblings were.

He never forgot his childhood sweetheart. She was a peasant in Orkney who his parents would never have approved of. He hasn’t seen her since leaving for Camelot, but he still thinks about her often.

Unlike his brothers, Agrivaine was hit hard by the loss of their kingdom. He was patriotic and hated being taken over by a foreign power. He was not blind to the good that Arthur did in Orkney, but the Scottish spirit of freedom flows through his veins.

He can sing.

Morgan believes that he may have the ability to do magic. Morgause never noticed because it is more common among females and Agrivaine was hidden and overlooked among the other boys. Morgan didn’t want Morgause to twist and use him, so she never brought up the idea of training him or even told him what she suspected. By the time Morgause was gone and she got around to thinking about doing it, Agrivaine was older (enchantresses and enchanters are normally trained young for a reason) and he was settled into his role as a knight.

I have always headcanoned that all of the Orkney brothers experience the occasional nightmare about their mother. Agrivaine’s are a weird combination of the horrors he saw her do and the memory of her leaving them.

This is less of a headcanon and more an inference from canon: He’s hot. All three of his brothers, his sister, half-brother, mother, uncle, and aunt are all described as being extremely attractive. Either Agrivaine is attractive or he drew the really short straw.

His continued faith in his mother stems mostly from a reluctance to admit that his own mother might never have loved him.

*I got the name Clarence from some old Arthurian legends where Morgause had a daughter named Clarissant.

#the squire's tales #gerald morris #sir agravaine #orkney bros #morgause #is evil and traumatized her children #arthurian legends #lady clarissant #morgan le fay #arthuriana #angst #i'm sorry for this

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annikasafternoonread · 4 years

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There’s like four good quotes in two pages so let’s just list them all out here:

“Don’t you want to be thanked?” Bernin asks Kel. “Isn’t that what you go heroing for?” “No,” Kel says simply.

“You forgot the forelegs, didn’t you,” Raoul says, looking at Kel’s injuries. “You’ll remember next time.” Nearly dying is a great learning experience!

“You can ‘if’ yourself to death, squire,” Raoul tells her when she starts listing all the things that could have gone wrong because of her mistakes (as though she wasn’t left entirely on her own as the freshest of meat and still did a damned good job of it). “I advise against it. You’re better off getting extra sleep.”

“When people say a knight’s job is all glory, I laugh and laugh and laugh. Often I can stop laughing before they edge away and talk about soothing drinks.” Fun fact: that quote used to be in my email signature, in high school. Raoul is very quotable.

#annika reads #quote #Tamora Pierce #Protector of the Small #Squire #Squire: day 3 #Squire: chapter 5 #Keladry of Mindelan

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skyrimfuckery · 5 years

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Kaboom Kabam, here it is! This has been a fun thing to mess around with. The design is heavily based off of someone else’s art, but still has creative liberties taken. I call it the Squire’s Plate. I have been teasing this project for forever to people I share discord servers with and I have also shown a few WIP screenshots to family! That’s a first. I’m really quite satisfied with this outfit. The funny thing is, even though this definitely seems a more realistic design compared to my other work in the Adventurer’s Wardrobe, this doesn’t feel quite as fitting in the world of Skyrim compared to, say, the plate ensemble or gambeson.

Overall this took me four weeks start to finish to do everything, but that’s also counting the days I was unable to work on this armor at all. Work, etc; i gotta eat too.

I bought a leather bag when I was visiting London the other day and it turned out to be great reference material for the leather stuff. The leather textures are definitely what took the most time for me to perfect for this outfit, and because I have set a new, higher bar, the texturing process has been lengthened as well. During this project, I learned new things about texturing leather. It’s not just wrinkly brown clay, you really gotta add more details to it like folds, stitching, and overlaid pieces, to bring the thing to life. For instance, just that little leather pouch at the back of the armor took me three hours to texture! There’s a lot that goes on with leather, seemingly way more than with metal.

This is also the first set to be coupled with matching gauntlets and boots. I was kind of tired just releasing cuirasses (even though the shieldmaiden’s getup is a full set, it’s not for males so it doesn’t count for me) so I figured to find some matching auxiliary equipment. What also helped a ton is that the art this outfit was based off of had very cool long gloves front and center and were super striking to look at. So I wanted to put those in Skyrim as well! I didn’t quite manage to completely replicate the art the gloves were based off of in that regard, but I think the design looks fine nonetheless.

The outfit will be incorporated into the Adventurere’s Wardrobe, so I can make use of the crafting system. This also has been updated slightly, with clothing-based crafting materials being now available to buy at general vendor stores, provided they sell basic clothing, and four new components have been added. Three of those are unique to the Squire’s plate for now, but the fourth (and fifth) is a more general one and the crafting recipes for the older outfits have been updated to incorporate that ingredient. A bag of rivets! Who’d’ve thunk it. Another minor fix is the texture that I used to close the gap on the back of the male version of the plate ensemble. Originally, it used the texture for the scaled armor from Nordwar’s replacer, but I forgot to include anything. The submesh now points to a vanilla texture, and will no longer show up to be purple.

Enjoy the pack! As always, the pack is available for download by clicking the name of the mod in the sidebar. That should bring you straight to the mega download page.

#skyrim #skyrim modding #Mod release #armor #armour #update #changelog #textures #female armour #female armor

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empressofmankind · 5 years

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The Lion in Winter - Part I: Departure - 01. Kevan I

Fandom: A Song of Ice & Fire Character/s: Kevan Lannister, Petyr Baelish, Lysa Arryn, Gnaeus Farwynd Location/s: King’s Landing Premises: Little Kevan gets up to no good in the early hours before he becomes a squire Mood: Cute kid gets into serious trouble fast Warnings: N/A NOTE: Part I is set shortly before King Robert Baratheon, Queen Cersei Lannister and their family set out for Winterfell. It therefore takes place a little bit before the start of the first book, ‘A Game of Thrones’.

O O O

It was the midsts of winter when a kinslaying broke her heart. The Maiden-Made-of-Light turned her back on them, and the world slid into the Long Night. Kevan put the pastel down and looked at his creation with a critical eye. He’d drawn a slender woman in a dress as red as blood. Her golden hair fell in braided tresses, and her fair brow was crowned with rays of light. She smiled at him from across her pale shoulder with soft, emerald eyes. She walked into the paper, from which emerged the tall, dark-clad shape of a man. She was betrayed, and the Lion of Night came forth in all his wroth to punish the wickedness of Man. Kevan picked up an ochre pastel and added flecks to her cheeks and his eyes. Better.

“Are they Mama and Papa?”

Kevan flinched. The pastel slipped from his grasp and broke on the red sandstone. Helaina stood beside him, her velveret horse under her arm. A gift from Father. Lady Whinny, she called it.

“No.” That was stupid. He hadn’t drawn Mother and Father, he wasn’t a baby. Kevan put his pastels in their tin. It was a small but well-loved set, crumbling and priceless, imported from far away Essos.

The morning had come hot and humid, the moist of the night’s rain still in the air. The adults said winter was coming, but in King’s Landing, it felt far off. Kevan had woken early. The hearth in their shared bedroom had gone out, the servants still abed. He had come out onto the small balcony to watch the sun rise and finish his drawing. He had made it on the last of the palimpsests Father had given him before leaving.

“Who are they?” his little sister asked as she sat down on the ground, beside him.

“No one. Ancient rulers, maybe.” Kevan shrugged. Definitely not Pa and Ma. “Their legend is from far away and long ago. They are very old.”

“Older than uncle Lann?” Helaina pulled her knees up under her chin, Lady Whinny squeezed against her. The toy horse had been loved to death, its patterned velveret threadbare.

Kevan frowned. Tyrion hadn’t told him when the Long Night had occurred. Was it before Lann the Lion had come West? The mythical founder of their House had lived long ago, too. He would ask their older brother when he saw him. “I think so? Bad people made her sad.”

Helaina’s gaze flicked down to the drawing. “That’s not nice.”

“No,” Kevan agreed. “But the Lion of Night made them pay their debt.”

“Papa would do that for Mama too.” Helaina’s nose wrinkled as she pointed a small finger at the masculine figure. Black, lion-like shapes had been coloured onto the grey fabric of his gambeson. “Papa’s lion is golden, not sable.”

“It’s not Pa.”

Helaina looked at her brother, the wrinkle in her nose creasing deeper. After a moment, she turned her attention back to the drawing. “She’s very pretty, like the Lion Queen.”

‘Lion Queen’ was the name Helaina had given to a life-size painting of a seated Lady, that hung in the solar at home, because it was surrounded by limestone lions. Helaina liked to pretend she was the Lion Queen’s lady-in-waiting. Kevan looked at the woman he’d drawn. She did look a bit like her. Lots of women have blond hair, Kevan thought. Aunt Genna and auntie Tailynn. Princess Myrcella and my sisters, too, and cousin Joy. Kevan didn’t like the painting of the Lion Queen because it made Pa sad. Tyrion had told him she was his Ma. She had died. All of a sudden tears pricked Kevan’s eyes. He wanted to hug his mother, but he didn’t get up. He wasn’t a baby.

Helaina leaned her head against his shoulder, yearning in her sea-green eyes as she looked at the drawing. “Why is Papa angry?”

“It’s not Father!” Kevan rolled his shoulder, forcing her to sit up. He blinked his tears away, confused and angry. Lions do not show weakness.

Helaina stared at him, her eyes large and sad and rapidly becoming moist. Her bottom lip trembled. Kevan’s shoulders slumped. This was the longest and farthest they’d been away from Father, ever.

“You can see the Golden Tooth from here.” Kevan pointed at a jagged peak among the distant western mountains. “We can watch the sun paint it gold and Father will be on the other side watching too.”

A hopeful smile appeared on her small face.

Kevan reached his arms out to her. Helaina climbed onto his lap and snuggled against him, Lady Whinny between them. They gazed through the thick sandstone balusters together and watched the dawn creep across the Crownlands. It snuck towards the distant peaks, like a mountain lion stalking unsuspecting prey. When the warm morning light caught up to the jagged peak, it painted it in bright yellows amid its white peers: a gold tooth in the Westerlands’ pearly smile. Kevan leaned his head against the red sandstone and wondered if their Father was watching, too. He always rose early, long before dawn.

“I miss Papa.” A little sob followed Helaina’s words.

Kevan hugged his sister’s small shoulders against him and stroke her forehead, like Father would. She was only five, a baby. It was the ninth year of summer and the tenth of Kevan's life. He'd been born on the tail of winter. His father said it was what made him strong. His mother would respond with a sad smile that Kevan didn’t understand. “Pa will be here soon,” he promised. “I will become a squire today, and he’ll be here for that, you’ll see.”

Kevan had been Ser Kevan’s page for two years now. Today, he would become a squire: his first real step on the road to knighthood. Maybe I will become Ser Barristan’s squire, he thought. He was everything a knight should be - strong, smart, kind. Kevan knew it was more likely that he would become his uncle’s squire as it was unusual for a page to squire to a different knight. This made him a little jealous of his cousin Tyrek, who was squire to King Robert. He wondered why his big brother Ser Jaime didn’t have a squire.

Helaina made a little noise. She had fallen asleep, her thumb in her mouth behind Lady Whinny’s tattered snout. With effort, Kevan lifted her up and brought her back to her bed. She curled up in the warm bedding without waking, mushing the threadbare horse against her face.

Kevan returned to the balcony to pick up his drawing and pastel box. His gaze lingered on the Golden Tooth. He wanted to explore even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to. Yet Father was not here, and it made him bolder.

He went back inside, dumped the items on the desk and tugged on pants. He forsook boots because he was quieter on his bare tiptoes. Opening their bedroom door on a crack, he spied down the twilit hallway — no one in sight, not even Ser Gnaeus. A mischievous glint made the ochre flecks in his pale green eyes sparkle.

It was quiet yet in Maegor's Holdfast, the massive square fortress at the heart of the Red Keep. Kevan roamed the corridors to his heart’s content and found a passage he didn't think he'd been before. It was a tight affair with rough, unplastered walls. A servant’s passage, surely. They had them at home too, tucked between bedchambers and solars to allow staff to go swift and unseen where needed. Kevan was positively thrilled to have found a new one, so much so that he temporarily forgot about today’s impending event.

The passage was dark, and he felt his way up the rickety wooden stairs. It opened up behind a bust in a modest, old cabinet blanketed in silence and filtered morning light. It was little-used, judging by the dust that covered the Targaryen King’s broad, scowling countenance. As Kevan entered, his attention was drawn to an antique display case near the rear window where the first, weak rays of dawn fell onto something glistening within.

He crossed the cabinet, his toes sinking into the plush rug. The glass of the display case was grimy, caked with dirt and dust. He rubbed the sleeve of his nightshirt past it to better see what laid within. It cleaned the glass but little and dirtied his sleeve a great deal. On a cushion as threadbare as his sister’s velveret horse, lay a beautiful dagger. Despite its neglected, dust-blanketed state, the light danced along its keen edge towards its smooth dragonbone hilt.

Kevan regarded it, face all but pressed against the glass as he studied the dagger with the fascination of a boy keen to carry his own. It must be ancient, he thought, mesmerised by the steel’s ripples winking in the morning light. It was Valyrian steel, he was sure of it. Why would anyone leave it here, forgotten? A frown wrinkled his nose. I will tell Mother. He had overheard his parents talking about Brightroar, their forefather’s Valyrian blade. Father had been looking for a replacement.

“This way, quickly.”

Kevan’s gaze shot to the door. Its handle moved down. The hinges creaked. He dashed behind a venerable chiffonier as it swung open. Panic and guilt vied for control of his thoughts. Pa will ground me for life.

A man with a small, pointed beard and dressed in fine silks entered. He was lean of frame but small of stature. Two heads shorter than Pa, at least, Kevan thought. He didn’t know the man. A portly woman followed close behind, her many-layered brocade dress rustling in her wake. She had thick, auburn hair that fell to her waist. He knew Lady Lysa, she was the wife of the Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn. His parents had introduced him to them when they first arrived at King’s Landing, prior to Prince Joffrey’s name day. Lady Lysa would undoubtedly inform his Ma, and so he made himself as small and quiet as could be.

“I can’t take it any more, Petyr.” Lysa clasped her hands together. She sounded fearful. Surely Lord Jon will keep Lady Lysa safe? Pa would never let anything happen to Ma, Kevan was confident.

“Just a little longer, now.” Petyr’s tone was soft, reassuring, encouraging, maybe. He had an accent, subtle but particular in the way he rolled his r’s. Kevan wondered which House he belonged to and peeked around the lacquered wood to see. Lady Lysa stood with her back towards him, her large behind dominating the view. Her ample silhouette hid the man from Kevan's sight, no matter which way he leaned to try and better see.

Petyr put his hand on her upper arm and tried to catch her gaze. Lysa flinched at his touch but then leaned into it. He smiled when her eyes crossed his. “Your boy will be safe soon.”

Lysa wrung her hands. “Everyone is trying to take him from me.”

“I know,” Petyr said as he rubbed her arm, his smile never faltering. “He belongs with his mother.”

“Even the Rock has started to meddle, Petyr,” Lysa continued, an edge of worry creeping into her tone. “They want to foster my little Rob! Can you imagine? My sweet, gentle robin, amid that nest of vipers.”

“Indeed? I did see their boy play with him, yester morn.”

“A wicked child. I’ve seen him skulking about, spying for them, no doubt.” Lysa moved abruptly, taking in her surroundings.

Kevan dodged back behind the chiffonier, his heart hammering in his throat. Are they talking about me? He had played with Robert Arryn yesterday. They all had? He didn’t understand. Robert had wanted to play!

Kevan heard her move about the room, the click of her shoes disappearing as she stepped unto the carpet near the chiffonier.

“Vain and harebrained, like his mother,” Lysa added.

Kevan flattened himself against the floor, peering under the antique furniture. Lady Lysa’s dainty, green silk shoes halted near the display. They turned as Petyr’s lacquered boots approached.

“I doubt she caught the old lion’s attention idly.” Petyr’s tone was thoughtful. “It takes a particular flower to flourish on that rock.”

Lysa made a derisive noise. “She is half his age, and he’s been anxious for another son ever since mad Aerys schemed him out of his heir.”

They were very close now. Kevan waited, staring at their footwear. When Petyr’s boots turned their heels towards him too, he ran. Low. Fast. Bare feet whispering across the carpet and then tiles. He ducked behind the bust and through the crack he had come.

“They were quick to produce one,” Petyr said, amusement lilting his voice.

In the shaded safety of the servants' corridor, Kevan’s fear bled away. He crept back to the door and peered out through the crack. They were standing at the chiffonier, the man with his back towards him. He held Lady Lysa’s hand, enclosing her fingers within his.

“You rebuffed them?”

“Yes. I would sooner die than let them weaponise my sweet robin.”

“Their interest has no doubt been noticed by others. That might work to our advantage.” Petyr turned, and Kevan could see him now. His gaze hunted around the man’s garments for a pattern or emblem, but when he found it, he did not recognise the black mockingbird on a field of ochre. A small lord, then? Kevan had thoroughly studied the charter of lords that Ser Kevan had given him. He was sure he had not seen it's like among them.

Lysa nodded, her fingertips brushing against Petyr’s hand before he let go and reached for something from the finely embroidered coin satchel at his hip. He produced a trinket that caught the morning light, drawing Kevan’s attention. It was a small droplet of glass, no larger than a thumb-tip, suspended from a silver chain. The clear liquid trapped inside moved hypnotically within. What a pretty necklace, Kevan thought, and it reminded him of the gifts Pa would bring for Ma when he came home.

“Your boy will be safe, soon,” Petyr promised once more.

Lysa stared at it with apprehension. Petyr moved his hand as if to give it to her, urging her to take it. She straightened and accepted it with a determined nod. Lysa held the pendant gingerly, mesmerised by the liquid; then swiftly tucked it into her ample bosom. Petyr smiled and leaned towards her. Kevan’s gaze jumped away to the rough stone wall when they kissed. It was only then that he realised what trouble he was truly in because that man was not Lord Jon.

Kevan turned and fled. In his hurry, he missed one of the steps and tumbled down. His shoulder struck the uneven floor hard, and he bit back a cry of pain. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to regulate his breathing, the way Ser Kevan had taught him, to calm down and control the pain. Lions do not show weakness.

After a moment, he pushed himself up. All he had to do was return to his bed chambers and crawl back into bed. Ma and Pa need never know. A mewl wormed past his lips at the sharp pain that shot through his shoulder as he rose.

In the distance, a royal guard trumpeted the day’s start. He had to hurry, or the servants would find him missing when they came to light the hearth. He peered out. The corridor beyond was as quiet as it had been when he had come this way. He raced down the passages, back to the wing reserved for royal guests. Leaning around the final corner, he scouted the hallway. The door to his parents’ sleeping quarters was still closed. The door to his own bed chambers stood slightly ajar. Almost there.

“You are up early, younger Lord Kevan.”

Kevan froze when he heard Ser Gnaeus’ stern voice right behind him. The knight was of an age with his brother Tyrion but not remotely as fun. Kevan turned and opened his mouth, an excuse on his lips, but yelped when the knight grabbed him by the ear.

“Spare me,” Ser Gnaeus said.

“Ouch! Let go! I am almost ten!”

“For all I care, you were the crown prince himself and of an age with him too.” Ser Gnaeus deflected the boy’s milling arms as he dragged the lordling with.

“Your Lady Mother forbade you and you will listen to her.”

O O O

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#a saga of bears & lions #imperial fiction #imperial shenanigans #lannisters #house lannister #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #kevan lannister #petyr baelish #lysa arryn #gnaeus farwynd

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meereens · 5 years

Note

My main man Podrick Payne!!

(deep fratbro voice) podRIIIIIIIIIIIIICK

How I feel about this character: Honestly, he really pissed me off in the show with that dumbass Pod the Rod brothel gag, but I tend to like bumbling sidekick types so I got over it. I always forget how young he is in the books? His portrait on the wiki is so wee and tiny. I also genuinely forgot he was related to Ilyn Payne. The LEAST relevant family connection in the entire plot. A good lad, 10/10 would squire again.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: No one! I truly don’t see him in any kind of puppy love, at least not now. He was scared of Sansa.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I like Pod and Brienne waaaaay more than his dynamic with Tyrion. He treats her with total seriousness which is refreshing after page after page of male characters looking down on her, and she’s the best mentor/protector anyone could ask for. She tried to save him from the noose!

My unpopular opinion about this character: Is there Pod discourse? Podscourse? Show-only but I can’t stand the Pod is a sex god thing. Not only is it pure wish fulfillment for horny dudes, Pod doesn’t need to prove his masculinity. He has a good heart and tries his best and that’s what counts in a person.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I really hope George doesn’t kill him off for shock value, he’s definitely at a cliffhanger right now along with Brienne. I think it would be moving for her to knight him (and for Westerosi gender barriers to be demolished so they can run around as Official Knights(tm) together).

Thanks for inquiring!

#asks

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agentmarymargaretskitz · 5 years

Text

A Day To Get Through

(As the Constangreen Server uses angst as a fuel source, we have the headcanon that Gary’s mom died when he was young. And as a result, I ended up writing this fic to unleash some feels.)

AO3

The forecast for Mother’s Day had called for a thunderstorm for most of the day. When her family had gone to bed the night before, thunder had been rumbling. By the time she’d woken up the next morning, the rain was less than a drizzle. She pulled on a bathrobe and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She could hear her husband working on breakfast and their sons helping him out before she even reached the last step. The sound of shushed laughter nearly made her start crying, but she told herself to hold it together.

Miriam Green refused to spend her last Mother’s Day crying.

With such a poor diagnosis, the odds of her living another year were not good. Her husband had been doing everything he could as things got worse. She suspected her eldest son knew what was coming too, JJ was smart enough. But the younger two were too little to go through this. Levi was a baby and didn’t understand, but Gary was four and just thought that Mommy was sick and she and Daddy were trying to make it better. Soon she and Jeff would have to find a way to tell him and JJ different news.

Putting a smile on her face, she entered the kitchen and was greeted by a herd of happy Greens. Jeff kissed her right on the bridge of her glasses with a grin before running back to the omelet he was making so it didn’t overcook. Levi laughed happily from his high chair and waved his arms. Gary and JJ were jumping all around her, each trying to hand her their homemade cards. Their joy was infectious, and Miriam started giggling with them as she sat down and pulled them on her lap to read their cards.

The sun started to peek though the clouds as the Greens talked about what they could do during the day. Levi was pretty much content with whatever as long as his bear was with him. Jeff also did not mind wherever they went. It came down to whatever JJ and Gary could agree on, which could have been a catastrophe with their two different personalities. But they both were fine with going to the park, where they could hike one of the shorter trails and there was a playground.

Jeff packed a picnic lunch for them to take along with them. They had to make sure that JJ didn’t have paint on face and that Gary knew he could only bring the dinosaur or the knight as his toy. She nearly forgot to put new wipes in the diaper bag for Levi before they left, but JJ reminded her and brought them to her. He looked worried about her again, but Miriam made sure to tell her she was fine. She wished she could tell him that everything would be fine, that he was going to be fine after she was gone, but she had no clue.

Jeff looked over at her as he got Levi into the car. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” she lied. “It’s going to be a good day.”

They made it to the park in good time and Levi didn’t get cranky during the ride. After getting there, they found a trail where they could push Levi’s stroller on and took a walk. JJ happily skipped ahead, looking for interesting rocks and acorns and pointing out trees that he knew. Gary was playing with his knight toy and talking about defeating the evil dragon. Levi entertained himself by blowing spit bubbles and giggling whenever Jeff made a funny face at him. Miriam smiled at it all as the sun shined down on her family, taking in every moment of it.

After lunch, JJ wanted to go hiking again and Gary wanted to play on the playground. Jeff offered to take JJ out on the trails while Miriam watched Gary as she tried to get Levi down for a nap. At first, she tried rocking him back and forth while paging through The Princess Bride. When that didn’t work, she started walking his stroller around the loop of the playground, hoping he’d fall asleep that way. However, he seemed more fussy than usual.

“Excuse me, m-ma’am? Ma’am?”

Miriam stopped turned around to see a man in a suit running after her.

“You, uh, dropped this,” he said, holding out Levi’s bear. “He belong to this little guy?”

“Yes, yes he does,” Miriam nodded, taking the bear from him. She hadn’t even realized that she’d dropped it. “Thank you so much. It explains why he’s being so cranky.”

“Not a problem,” the man smiled, but there was something sad about it. “Hopefully this makes him feel better.”

“It will,” Miriam said as she tucked the bear next to Levi.

Her baby took one look at the stranger, blew a spit bubble, and started to work at pushing the bear out again. The stranger shook his head and sighed. Something about him seemed familiar to Miriam, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. As soon as he left, she was going to realize what it was, she knew it.

“Mommy,” Gary was running towards her now. “They’re back!”

Miriam looked ahead to see Jeff and JJ coming back from their walk. Gary was staring at the man with widened, curious eyes. The stranger grinned at him, then looked over at her. The grin became laced with melancholy, as if he knew what was happening to her.

“They’re going to be okay,” he said, pushing his glasses up a little. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

Miriam whipped her head back at him, frowning. “What?”

“Mom!” JJ yelled as he barreled towards her. “Mom! Mom! Guess what I found? It’s a snakeskin!”

“Really?” Miriam smiled as she bent down to get a closer look at it. “That’s so cool!”

“Eww!” Gary yelled and ran back towards the slide on the playground.

Miriam shook her head and moved her hand towards her face to push her glasses back up before freezing and turning around. The stranger was gone.

The part of herself that loved science fiction suddenly had a strange inkling about the man who’d given Levi’s bear back. How he’d phrased his words did contribute to the feeling. But logically, it wasn’t possible. Unless it did become possible in the future…

At least Miriam knew now that her family was going to be okay without her.

~~~

“So that’s your mum?”

Gary nodded as he walked up to where Constantine was hiding in the woods. “That’s her.”

“She seems pretty nice,” John remarked as Miriam ruffled JJ’s hair while Jeff went after little Gary hiding under the side.

“She was,” Gary agreed, watching his dad lead his teary-eyed younger self back to the rest of his family. “I don’t remember a whole lot, she died a few months later. But I remember her telling Dad she was worried about all of us one night. Thought I could ease her fears a little if I talked…”

He fell silent and shook his head. John put a hand on his shoulder. “You gonna be okay, squire?”

The time agent nodded. “Just a day to get through. I was just really missing her this time.”

“I get it. Ready to go home?”

“Yeah.”

Gary began to program his courier as John looked once more at the Green family.

“You were right though,” John told Gary as the doorway opened to his apartment. “From what you’ve told me about them, your family came out okay. And so did you.”

#legends of tomorrow #gary green #miriam green #green family #john constantine #constangreen #implied #fanficition #angst #death tw #fanfiction

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slipsthrufingers · 5 years

Text

So on the weekend, while procrastinating over housework and actual work I didn’t want to do, I accidentally wrote 4.5k words of a fic I’d vaguely planned out around the time of 8.01 or 2 and I was feeling really happy and enthusiastic. Then I forgot about it, and then I was rooting around my google docs and found it.

Set in an AU world where Brienne doesn’t follow Catelyn after Renly dies, but Jaime still ends up maimed. Tywin receives a letter from Tarth requesting the Crown’s aid, and he sends his son to investigate it.

So here is the first chapter/part. unedited. Thoughts welcome!

On the seventh, miserable day of his journey, the captain sent a cabin boy to wake him with word that their destination had been sighted, and that within a few hours they would be docking at Evenfall. Jaime grumbled his understanding at the boy and told him to take the vomit-filled chamberpot with him as he left.

He had never suffered from sea sickness before, not on any of the many journeys he had taken from Lannisport, or from Kingslanding, to Dorne or even Pyke. But then for every one of those trips he had been healthy, and whole, and not the maimed lion he now was. Still, daily, the stump of his arm ached badly enough that he needed a drop or two of the milk of the poppy to get him through the day, and often a full carafe of Dornish Red to get him through the night.

Jaime leaned over his narrow cot and clumsily forced open the small porthole to let the room air a little. He was sure it stank to the high seven heavens in here, though he had long gone nose blind to it. He took a deep, steadying breath of the salty air, before filling his basin with water from the jug the cabin boy had left behind. He stripped and washed as quickly as he was able, not wanting to focus much on the way his ribs could be counted now, or on the way his hip bones protruded sharply higher than the flat waste of his stomach. He dressed as quickly as he could, but had to pull on each item slowly, awkwardly, so as not to knock his right arm against anything, for fear of the pain that it would bring.

Eventually, he completed the basic task of getting dressed and inspected himself in the small looking-glass hanging on the back of the door. He could do nothing for the wine-dark bruises beneath his eyes, or the pallid grey of his skin, but his father had ordered his hair and beard trimmed before they set sail, and it still looked well enough a week later. And his red jerkin had been altered to fit this scrawny, ruined body, and as such he looked less starved and more lean.

The Lion of Lannister. He thought to himself, darkly amused, remembering the sad, emaciated beasts he and Cersei had found in the bowels of Casterly Rock. They had been tame things, starved enough that they would have easily been able to slip through the bars if they had had the spirit to try. Cersei had slipped her hand through the bars to pinch the hide of the lion within reach, but it barely flinched, and she had pouted at him in her disappointment. She had dared Jaime to pull on its mane, wanting to hear it roar, but he had been frightened, and refused.

Now I am as tame as them.

He saved his hand for last. It was a heavy thing, wrought in iron and plated in gold filigree. It was well designed, and easy enough to attach to what was left of his arm— there were straps and a buckle— but underneath the bandage the wound was still healing, and the golden hand pressed against the worst of it in a deeply uncomfortable way. Qyburn had promised that soon the pain would ease as he adjusted to the prosthetic, but had encouraged him to go without the hand as often as possible, even without the bandage, to let the scars feel the fresh air. But his father had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to be wearing it the moment he met Lord Selwyn. You must present the best possible face of House Lannister. He had said, looking with disgust at the absence at the end of his son’s right sleeve, as though this was something that Jaime had done to himself on purpose. As though it were obvious where the blame for his maiming lay.

Eventually he emerged from his quarters, holding on to the balustrades as he ascended the stairs and reached the main deck. All about him, the sailors were busy, moving quickly from aft to bow, some climbing the rigging, others doing something to the sails, Jaime was not quite sure what, but it was clear enough they were readying the ship to port. He turned and climbed up further to the poop deck, so he would be out of the way of the sailors and could be afforded a better view of his destination.

He could not deny that Tarth looked beautiful. It was bigger than he had expected it to be, considering its size on the map of Westeros. The island was quite mountainous, and several of the higher peaks were tall enough that Jaime would not have been surprised to see snow caps on them, were it the depths of winter. The mountains stretched all the way to the water, in places, ending in looming sandstone cliffs.

There was a small settlement directly in front of the bow. There were, perhaps, two hundred brick houses in many varied colours, winding their way up what must be a fairly steep hill, leading towards a modest looking keep sitting atop a cliff face on the northern end of the town. That must be Evenfall Hall.

At the very precipice of the cliff stood a skinny tower, taller even than the main keep itself, built of the same white marble as the keep. In the bright sunlight of the day, with the blue of the sky behind them, they almost seemed to blend into the light cloud cover.

“How long ’til we dock?” He asked the captain, who was standing at the helm, carefully directing the ship into the cove.

“Mayhaps twenty minutes, m’lord.” The man said gruffly, with the tone of one who’d prefer not to be asked questions at this particular point in time. Jaime nodded and left him to his business, choosing to stand portside as the ship was brought around, which gave him the best view of the modest town that was to be his home for the next few weeks.

They docked smoothly, and within moments the crew were jumping from the deck, securing the ship against their assigned mooring. Behind him, the captain ordered the anchor dropped, and the gangplank set out for them to disembark. Jaime was eager to set his feet on solid ground for the first time in a week, and perhaps find some relief from the rolling nausea that had beset him the entire voyage. So he did not wait for a runner to announce his arrival to the Hall, as his father had bid him do. They scarcely could have missed the grand vessel pulling into the cove with Lannister red sails and crest emblazoned on each of the sails. Jaime was sure they had been, therefore, suitably notified of his arrival. And considering what he was here for, they would be very unwise to leave him waiting now that he was here.

The dock itself was solidly made, industrial, if not ornamental like the one in King’s Landing, and for a moment he let himself feel the stability beneath his feet. But as he took a step, his knees wobbled beneath him, and for a moment he feared he would fall. By instinct, he thrust his right arm out, to brace him, but then remembered too late the pain that falling on his maimed arm would bring—

But a strong, small hand steadied his other elbow. It was the cabin boy from earlier. “Alright, Ser?” He asked, brown eyes wide with concern. He had served Jaime as something of a default squire or page boy throughout the journey, but Jaime was ashamed to realise he had not even bothered to learn the boy’s name.

“Thank you, er..” He trailed off, hoping the boy would overlook the lapse on his part and continue steadying him.

“Peck, ser.”

“Peck.” Jaime repeated, and then, silently to himself, he repeated it again, so as not to forget. Peck.

“It happens, Ser. Your knees get used to the rocking on board the ship, and then when you’re back on dry land they sometimes keep up the trick.” Peck explained, and then carefully, still staying close, he released Jaime’s elbow.

Still, Jaime felt a little dizzy, though that was more the fault of last night’s wine than the dry land, but he did not feel he would fall.

“Can you see to my things, Peck, and then join me tonight up at the keep? I’m sure the captain can spare you.”

“As you like, ser!” Peck agreed, enthusiastically. It was probably the first time the boy would be allowed within a Lord’s house, even if that house were as modest as Evenfall.

Jaime nodded, and carefully took a step or two. His knees seemed more stable now, stronger, and he set aside the fear he would fall into the water and made his way to the dock master’s residence. Hopefully someone would be there to greet him already, else he could wait there til they arrived.

#wip wednesday #my fic #jaime lannister #jaime lannister/brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth #game of thrones fic

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fusewrites · 6 years

Text

The Blade of Arandus

Chapter 1- Siros

Chapter Summary: Luwyn and his guardian, Jahal move from their home in Rodan to the beautiful kingdom of Siros. Jahal is exciting about the move, prepared and oddly calm, while Luwyn wants nothing to do with it.

Word Count: 2427

Author’s Note: Draft #2 in on the way and I am so excited! I’ve change a bit to my story, mainly just how the beginning starts. I’d like to say I’ll post a chapter at least once a week, with a decent break between Part 1, 2 and 3. Please enjoy, tell me what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

WIP Page | Characters

(Chapter 2 coming soon!)

The wind nipped at Luwyn’s face and the sun beat down on him. The sound of wooden wheels creaking woke him from his nap and he stretched out on the back of the cart as it trudged ahead.

It was a beautiful day; warm for the north, but perfect here in the unfamiliar south. Luwyn groaned.

He hated new places. Strange people and buildings and foods. He wished that he and Jahal had stayed in Rodan. He asked Jahal over and over why they had to move, to which his grumpy old guardian replied, “It’s time.” And that was all he said any time Luwyn asked. “It’s time.”

Time for what? Luwyn thought, his arms folded and face twisted into a pout. Seated among all of their belongings and few pieces of ragged Rodani oak furniture, he looked at his surroundings like it were a filthy stable.

Though he hated to admit it, the countryside of Siros was beautiful; rolling green hills dotted with brilliant, colorful flowers, doves and crows and eagles soared above, hare and deer and elk skittered across the ground, hiding in the safety of their holes or sparse rashes of trees. Clusters of huts grouped together formed the kingdom’s farming villages just outside of the city walls. Children ran around the huts whilst men and women worked the fields. They led oxen with plows on their backs, or gathered vegetables, or tended livestock.

Luwyn hadn’t seen anything that impressive, he thought, until he laid his eyes upon the great golden walls of the capital city of Siros. Two tall doors, the right engraved with the face of a snarling lion, the left with the an eagle’s triumphant sneer, were open, and looked as though they rarely closed. Luwyn looked closely and saw dimples in the metal, as big around as his face, and wondered what could make that kind of mark in solid gold.

Jahal called out from the front of the cart. “Luwyn, come sit up here.” It was the first thing he had said all morning and it surprised Luwyn.

With another groan, Luwyn hopped off of the slow moving cart and nearly stumbled onto the stone street. He righted himself, and jogged to the front of the cart, where Jahal sat. He held the reigns between his chubby fingers lazily and greeted Luwyn with a terse, professional smile.

“Come, sit.”

Luwyn sat down and looked at Jahal with one curious eye. He was a large man, in height and girth, with big hands and tan, leathery skin. His black hair was peppered with grey and pulled back in a balding ponytail. He was gruff and stubborn and loud and loved to call out Luwyn’s flaws. Today, he was oddly quiet and gentle.

“Look around you, Lu,” Jahal said, gesturing to the city around them. “This is Siros.”

Tall buildings made of flawless white marble and polished grey stone stood tall and close together. Little huts and stalls sprinkled between their taller counterparts, and people moved throughout each building. Women holding their young children close by, lords strolling here and there in ornate robes and suits with gold and silver trim, followed by pompous ladies in their flamboyant, and expensive looking, fancy gowns. Overdressed for midday, Luwyn judged in his head. Guards in deep crimson suits sprinkled at every corner, silent and stern. Music floated gently in the breeze, bouncing off of the towers. Pleasant smells of sweet buns and pies and spices he couldn’t recognize ran through his nose, and, for a second, he forgot his displeasure of foreign places.

It was nice and pleasant and all, more open and warm than the bleak grayness that was Rodan, but it was unfamiliar. It wasn’t his home.

“Why did we move, Jahal?” Luwyn asked after a beat, his arms tightly crossed. “We were perfectly fine in Rodan.”

“It’s time, Lu,” Jahal said flatly.

“Jahal.”

Jahal snorted. “I bought a few stalls at the market, and a stable. A nicer house too...we were stifled in Rodan! Dim and rain and cold. That damned, cramped brick cave.” He spat. When Luwyn didn’t respond, he followed with, “I’m sure you’ll like it, Lu.”

Luwyn rolled his eyes and slouched down. Decision making was not his strength, but he had already resolved that he hated the house and the city before he even saw it. It was probably a decent house, better than the musty, crowded brick building they lived in. But it wasn’t the same. “I still don’t see any reason for moving,” he said finally. “I don’t like it here. It’s a bit...much, don’t you think?”

Jahal chuckled and took a deep breath. “Aye, the upper level, even parts of the Mid, have always been posh and extravagant.”

Luwyn rolled his eyes. “Understatements,” he whispered under his breath.

“What was that?” Jahal barked. Anger flared in his dark eyes and his lip quivered. There was the Jahal he knew.

Luwyn lowered his head. “Nothing, Jahal.”

Jahal was not Luwyn’s father—he scarcely acted like it and reminded him everyday. He didn’t have to, Luwyn could see the differences; Jahal’s tan skin was sun-worn, and use to be more fair, while Luwyn’s was a natural honey color. His mop of hair sat on his head, the color of dull, spun copper, and his eyes were like amber. Jahal’s features were square and severe, his body big and hardy, Luwyn was softer, more angular, his build slimmer. He looked different from Jahal, everyone in Rodan and he even stood out from the pale, sun-kissed round faces of the Sirosi.

Jahal was never too emotional and rarely comforted Luwyn; he treated him like an apprentice or a squire rather than his ward, or perhaps even his son. It frustrated Luwyn to no end. He also rarely spoke of Luwyn’s parents. “I could never be your father. I just owe him a debt,” is what he would tell Luwyn whenever he asked about them. He wanted so badly to know about his parents, and for some reason, Jahal thought that picking up their life and hauling it to a new kingdom would do the trick.

“Up there, that’s the Palace of Arandus. The royal family lives there.” Jahal pointed. High above them, an obnoxious cluster of gold, marble and crystal towers swirled together around a robust castle and glistened under the sun. It sat on the top of a hill, the entire compound nearly half the size of Siros looking over the city, with it’s minarets peeking over the wall. There were rows of curly symbols sketched into the palace walls, just large enough for Luwyn to make out each character. It was some ancient language that Luwyn had never seen, but could somewhat recognize. He found himself trying to sound the words out, and they danced clumsily on his tongue.

“Can you read that?” Jahal broke his concentration. Luwyn lowered his head and shrugged. Jahal chuckled and shook his head. “That’s so far, I’m surprised you’re able to see the shapes from that far, much less understand the god-tongue, or even old Sirosi.”

“God-tongue?” Luwyn’s ears perked. He looked back to the symbols and realized how far they were from the castle, nearly half a league.

Jahal nodded and pointed to two large statues that emerged ahead of them. “That,” he pointed to the left statue, “is Solandus. Dead king of the gods. He ruled as the sun for millennia, until his brother, Oni the Great Void, overthrew him.” The statue, as tall as a building, was the grand bronze depiction of a great bearded man, with curls rolling down his back. He donned elaborate armor and held a greatsword in one hand, and a large shield in the other.

“And that is Arandus, patron god and founder of Siros.” Jahal waved at the other statue. The structure was made of solid gold, and Luwyn started to notice a theme in the kingdom. Pretentious, he thought. The golden statue was slightly shorter than the other, but stood ahead of his bronze counterpart, proud and centered, more prominent in the square. His armor looked light, encrusted with jewels along the chest plate. Gold curls sat underneath a ring with three rubies in the center. A large battle-axe rested under his hand, the blade large and vicious, with an eye engraved where the blade met the hilt.

“God of War and Fortune, eldest son of Solandus he was,” Jahal continued. “Everyone in Siros prays to him, in a language they could never understand, the god-tongue. It was the language Arandus spoke before he united Siros, and it mixed with the common-tongue, creating Old Sirosi. Royals and nobles speak that mostly. Common-tongue for the common folk,” he finished matter-of-factly.

Luwyn stared at the statues, then onto the giant marble temples which, Jahal explained, were dedicated to Solandus and Arandus, respectively. Monks and nobles dressed in silk and velvet robes sauntered in and out, kneeling at each statue then raising their hands in exaggerated worship. Jahal and Luwyn were never religious, and Rodan had no particular gods or goddesses, so this was a strange sight. Luwyn also wondered how Jahal knew so much about about these foreign gods. He swore he even saw Jahal bow his head in respect as the passed each stature. .

Between one temple and another building, sat a little peach tree, probably planted by the monks. Behind the tree, Luwyn saw a girl with black hair in brown robes, watching him and doing a very bad job of hiding. Before he could look again, she vanished and he swiveled his head in search of her.

“What it is, boy?” Jahal questioned, a bushy eyebrow raised.

Luwyn shook his head and sat back, folding his arms, and returned to his internal grievances. A large crowd built up ahead of them, people bunched together and waved and chanted. At the center of the commotion, a palanquin with gold and silver framing and blue curtains sat on the shoulders of burly, scantily dressed servants, each fitted with silver collars. Jahal cursed, and Luwyn knew why. The old man had a sore spot for slavery; the idea of being owned bothered him fiercely. Though, somehow being “in debt” to Luwyn’s father, was not the same thing, he would say.

The palanquin was surrounded by imposing guards, covered with black, spiked armor, wielding iron swords. Each had a grim frown and fierce eyes that stabbed the crowd, pinning them back. Inside sat a figure wrapped in blue velvet and what looked like a fur cloak. He wore a gold band with three rubies set in the center around his golden-blonde curls. He sneered down at the people outside the palanquin. The man barked an order, and his guard cut through the crowd like a knife. He turned and his eyes found Luwyn’s. Luwyn flinched and looked away. When he looked up, the palanquin was gone, followed by the crowd, as it ascended toward the palace, crimson street guards blocking their way.

“King Liandros,” Jahal informed, shaking his head. His face twitched when he said the word king. His hooded eyes were solemn. “Be careful around him, Lu.”

Luwyn gulped and nodded nervously.

They rode through the upper level, down a little hit to the Mid, the middle section of the city. Here, the houses were a mixed of stone and brick and wood, smaller and less expensive looking than their upper level counterparts. They were stacked closer together, and which made the area seem a bit smaller than the upper level, though the whole area of the Mid was nearly twice the size. It felt a little more crowded that the previous level of the city. The people were more modestly dressed, their statues of the gods were smaller and a smooth gray granite.

Luwyn heard the hum of another crowd and looked up. The cobblestone street opened up into a large market area. Stalls and huts were mashed together, with townsfolk trying to sell their wares to anyone who bustled past. Old ladies displayed their homemade breads and jewelry, and men bartered over fruit or weapons. People hurried past each other, rushing to the next stall, then the next.

Jahal slowed the cart to a stop. He hopped off and grabbed the pony’s reins and lead them through the narrow aisles of the market. They reached an empty little stall with a small tarp hut behind it.

“Here’s one of our stalls!” Jahal boomed proudly. It was a modest thing, made of some rickety local wood. The hut behind it smelled of sawdust and mildew. There was no trace of the previous owner, just a little sign with Jahal’s name. Luwyn realized that Jahal never owned a stall at any point in Luwyn’s life. He wondered if Jahal could manage this stall, much less a few more.

Jahal clapped his hands and rushed to unload things from the cart into the hut. Luwyn started to help, grabbing a crate full of horseshoes, when Jahal wrenched the crate from his hands.

“Go and explore the city, Lu,” Jahal said with a gruff, but warm voice. “Get a taste for your new home.”

Luwyn gave him an odd look. This was unusual behavior for Jahal; the calm tone, letting Luwyn off from a chore, he even shot him a little smile. Luwyn stared at his guardian pointedly.

“Thank you,” he said carefully, then slunk off and disappeared into the market.

Luwyn explored the stalls, lazily perusing the different selections of fruits and vegetables, meats and spices. He stopped at a larger stall, lined with colorful tunics, embroidered with little gold vines. There was a hut behind it, the tarp a rich crimson fabric. Luwyn rummaged through the tunics and trousers and vests, when he noticed that no one approached him trying their hardest to sell him something. No one seemed to be working the stall at all. Luwyn looked from side to side and noticed that he was in an secluded part of the market. No one paid particular attention to him, those around napped or were entranced with the attraction of a rare passerby.

He saw a little glint from inside the hut. Something in him told him to move on, explore the rest of the market, or go back to Jahal’s stall. But there was something deeper inside him, ringing in his head, telling him to go inside.

Luwyn looked around again. Satisfied that no one was watching, he stalked around the stall and slipped into the hut.

#thebladeofarandusdraft2 #thebladeofarandus #wip #writblr #fantasy wip #wippage #wip introduction #fantasy writer #novelist #novel

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ghostgetter · 7 years

Note

*from the garbage can where I live* gimme that good First Starco Kiss *hisses*

so this is a month late lmfao

There is a quiet melody humming in the back of Star’s throatas she watches the moons slowly rise over the forests and streams of herhomeland. It’s a view she’s reserved for herself, but as of late, she’s draggedMarco up to the castle rooftops to bask in its beauty with her. A lullaby fortwo, and she takes seconds between the changing skyline to look up at theperson she thought would disappear like the sun does every day.

“It’s just something Iwanna share with my best friend,” she had said the first night, forcing himto sit on a makeshift blanket laid out across the purple panels. She took thespot on the opposite side of the blanket and dipped her hand into the bowl ofnachos that took way too long for her to prepare. “Think of it as a…re-declaration to be my squire again. So now you have to enjoy it.”

It was half true. Honestly, she just hadn’t been able to separateherself from his side ever since she retrieved him from Eclipsa’s grasp, andthat was weeks ago. Marco didn’t seem to mind much – never commenting on thecompany and keeping a subtly happy aura about him when she was around. Evennow, with war hanging over their heads and an evil queen lurking in theshadows, with frightening intentions for the both of them, he seemed relaxed. Peaceful,even.

She missed this. She missed him.

Things were so dysfunctional before – confessions and heartbreakand forcing feelings and a massive fight that almost blew the foundation oftheir friendship. And then he was ripped from her side in the snap of twoviolet-colored fingers, fighting her with dark spells from her own wand.

But now, they’re starting over. They’re at the beginningagain, and it’s nice, she supposes. Star knows how he feels about her and heknows how she feels about him, and it’s a safe medium in which they leave thosefeelings unanswered.

It’s nice.

Well, okay, not nice –she’s hoped for different scenarios, but circumstances and prophecies and herown stupid heart have pretty much led them down this road. They’ve gottenthrough mutual jealousy, a nearly severed friendship, and separation at thehands of evil forces – twice. What’s asafe plateau, anyway? At least she has him, and that’s enough for her.

“This view kinda reminds me of the Fiesta De La Noche series finale,” Marco mutters, leaning back. Hehasn’t said much that night, allowing Star to take the reins of conversation.

Star gasps excitedly turning to face him, “When Dustinproposed to Selena after winning the World Class Dance Tournament!”

“And Luana finally found her parents –” he continues,smirking.

“And the car crash!”They exclaim together. A pause, because ofcourse they’d do that weird talk-at-the-same-time thing, and the quietmoment is filled with rambunctious laughter. They collapse against one another,closer than before until their laughter turns to content sighs.

It’s comfortable like this.

She rests her head on his shoulder, leaning her weightagainst him. “I miss Friendship Thursdays.”

“We’ll have them again,” he promises. “Telenovelas and pizzaswith a hundred mushrooms.”

“Ninety-nine,” Star corrects. “’Hundred’s way too many.”

Marco chuckles, lying his head to rest on her own. “Right, Iforgot. The Amelio’s disaster.”

She giggles at the recollection; it felt like forever ago thatPony Head crashed one of their routine not-date nights. Things were easier backthen. Glossaryck ate pudding in her closet, Eclipsa was never a thought to behad, and Marco was simply a constant thought that made her heart beat just abit faster. Now, she sits and watches the stars with her soulmate, her lifeline, waiting for news from hermother regarding Eclipsa’s whereabouts. She exhales, burying herself into Marco’shoodie.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“I just want things to be peaceful again,” she mumbles. “Iwant to feel safe, and I want myfriends and family to be safe. And I want you –”

There’s a lot of things she wants. She’s nearly overwhelmedby his scent – fresh, this time around, and vaguely spicy, and she wants to besurrounded by it. She wants to think of the good times; times where they’retogether and he’s the simple Karate Boy from Earth. She wants those memories toflush out the ones that flutter in her nightmares – where his cheeks glow an eerie violet, his eyes masked over with an emptiness she never thought he couldmuster, and her own wand pointed at her.

“I—I just…I want you to stay by my side,” Star stammers. “Ican’t allow you to be ripped away from me again.”

“I know.”

“I won’t let you.”

His hands move from his lap to her knee, which lies againsthis in a comfortable heap. They come together on top of her hand, practically waitingfor his warmth, and their fingers lace, folding together like matching puzzlepieces. It such a natural movement that she barely thinks about how well herhand fits in his.

“I know,” he repeats.

Star turns her head to meet his eyes instead of reply,because she’s feeling anxious again, the need to see his warm brown instead ofpale and lifeless eyes overwhelm her senses. It overwhelms her conscience, theone that sounds like him when he told her he liked her. When he looks down ather, and then at her lips, the voice that tells her starting over is the bestplan right now fades like a failing cassette tape.

Everything fades when her eyes close and he meets her halfway.

Marco’s a gentle kisser, and his lips make her feel safe,but the sensation of kissing him is like being hit with hundreds of tiny,exploding hearts. Even behind closed eyelids, she sees the glow of her cheeks,which only warm her more, unbothered by the gentle breeze that blows across therooftop. After one kiss, she meets him again, and again –

The voice reappears – we’re not supposed to do this…

“Sorry,” she exhales, pulling back and shaking her head. “Sorry.Sweet Corn, I’m so stupid – we agreed to start over and just be friends but Iwent ahead and moved things too fast,” Star forces herself off the blanket andaway from his warmth, feeling him nearly collapse into the space she leaves. “Youenjoy the view, I’m gonna –”

“Too fast?” Marco laughs, pushing himself up to stand withher. “Star, I’ve known you for almost two years, and I can’t even count thedays I’ve been in love with you during them.”

She freezes, staring up at him. Marco reaches for her handsand clasps them together. They’d gone back to chapter one but still ended upturning to a new page anyway.

“So, I know I said we’d take it slow, but since we’resoulmates or whatever, shouldn’t we just…go for it?”

His palms feel sweaty, or maybe they’re her own, squeezingagainst his for some sign that she’s actually not awake. But she sees Marco look back at her and she basks in the very real way his eyes carefully search her own.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he replies. “Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

She nods. “You’re more than just my soulmate, you know that?”

She watches him swallow back, leaning down to kiss her again–

“You’re my best friend, Marco Diaz, the Safe Kid from Earth,”she interrupts teasingly, turning her head away to face the moons that sit highin the sky and enjoying the sound of his amusement, “and the only person inthis dimension that knows how to make decent nachos.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, alright –”

“Oh, and you’re obsessed with Macki Hand and you’re great at TangSoo Do and you’re the cutest idiot alive–”

He turns her head and kisses her, and her emblems glowagain. His hands find purchase around her waist as hers cradle his cheeks,thumbs tracing where the crescent moons hide.

She fingers trail down to grasp at his shoulders, covered inher favorite soft red cotton and she grips it tightly, pulling him closer. His kisses make her ears ring so loud, that the very loud sound echoing from themain entrance of the kingdom doesn’t reach her until he swiftly pulls away from her lips, facing the gates by the trench. She follows his gaze, watching below.

The castle alarms continue to blare, warnicorns stampedingover the bridge and into safe passage.

“Get the Queen to Medical!”

#starco fanfiction #starco #fanfiction #star vs the forces of evil #otp: i need a friend #xxmine #starbutterfly-diaz #ask

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mistralrunner · 7 years

Text

Running Reads Oathbringer: Part II.IV

I decided to turn my "let's run over 5 miles to a park with the largest book I can find and climb a tree to read it and then run back" stunt a couple years back with Words of Radiance into a tradition. Despite the fact that when I read Words of Radiance it was summer and thus a reasonable time to sit outside, unlike the approaching winter of the present. Managed to read nearly two chapters of Oathbringer and then it started raining despite the forecast not saying it would rain until a few hours later. Well, journey before destination!

Spoilers for pages 481-528 ahead. Also Mistborn thoughts again cause I have a problem.

The sea? As in an actual or metaphorical sea.

I'm amused at the irony that this dreaded work placement is not as bad as what fellow humans forced Moash to do

It's still slavery. It's still awful. But it is interesting how humans acted more odiously toward their slaves. The Voidbringers are efficient and focused rather than wantonly destructive.

But Moash you're falling into apathy here. People can be better

It's ironic that Moash was the one Kaladin appreciated for not revering him and now Moash is putting him on a pedestal

The Voidbringers still have Parshmen slaves? Are you kidding me? I really shouldn't be surprised but still.

I am surprised they're treated worse than the humans. Did they try to rebel? Were they the Listeners or Kaladin's people (please not the latter it would hurt Kaladin)

And they're almost taking the place of Bridge Four as the ones who are treated the worst so even if you're in a bad spot at least you aren't them

Oh no

They are the ones Kaladin helped

Noooooo

What about the children?

This hurts

The horrible irony that these people ended up worse off for being helped. That is evil.

Kaladin save them please

Or Moash. That would be ironic.

Yes you go Moash!

Twenty three years ago so Adolin's around now?

Oh no Dalinar not you too with the firemoss

Yikes Dalinar re the bar fight

Honestly “yikes Dalinar” is a good summary of these chapters

Wow born unto light that is a name

Now I want to know all the name meanings

What happened with Jasnah all those years ago and her "lunacy"?

(Around this time while reading eerie pattering started around me and I realized rain was approaching and packed up. My book is unharmed)

Gavilar, Alethela was great in part cause they recognized fighting as a necessary evil not because they saw fighting as what made them great and in charge

It's good Dalinar is at least aware he has a problem. That is a first step.

I am concerned about whatever Gavilar is thinking might help with Dalinar's problems

Huh he's not going to the Rift? At least not yet cause I'm pretty sure whatever he forgot there hasn't been shown yet.

Heh that's a nice echo of Gavilar's last words to his brother "if only I knew the right ones to say" "you must find the most important words a man can say"

WHAT IS GOING ON

Obrodai?

Shards conquering worlds?

Is this what Sazed is facing in era II?

I am really fixated on that problem since Sanderson confirmed the red-eyed kandra in The Bands of Mourning aren't of Odium but are related to something similar happening across the Cosmere

They can make avatars of themselves?

As in they invest a person and bring them under as their god or something else?

I am so confused

Just let me spend ten minutes staring at the epigraph and ignoring the actual chapter

Dalinar's flying?

Dalinar and Navani are flying?

YES TEN SQUIRES AT LEAST ARE FLYING I’M SO PROUD

That really does speed up warcamp travel time

Ten weeks huh-I should try making a timeline

Yes it was Rushu who came along

I have so many favorite minor characters

Yesss Navani doing engineering and Dalinar being happy for her

Yes Queen Fen!

So we're sending Kaladin to unlock the Oathgate? That's the only person we can really send.

In which Dalinar faces the greatest adversary of DnD: the door

And like a typical DnD player he doesn’t think to look/ask for the key first

I love the Windrunner express

So does this mean Hoid is going to be missing this book because he's facing the dreaded water level of a video game in order to seek help for Roshar from some arrogant Shard?

I want this story now.

Okay the artificial stone wards are pretty cool

Heh, stonewards

The presence of crem in general is interesting.

It really is interesting that these beings of Odium aren't doing a slash and burn

And that this is the book where we're getting backstory on Gavilar and Dalinar's campaign for the contrast of conquest methods

Also I wonder how much of that Fused being impressed with the orchards is due to the fact that during the last Desolation and thus the last time the Fused were active human society was in tatters and probably didn't have anything like that

Moash, just casually admitting he killed a Voidbringer XP

Sah has to deal with a second member of Bridge Four

What happened to Sah's daughter I'm still worried can we save her

You know if any of the Voidbringers can acquire and use an Honorblade, we're in trouble once more Oathgates get unlocked

Huh that is a clever design, keeping suburbs far from the city so you can't siege from immediately outside

Wow

That is just

The sheer amount of dramatic irony there

Hysterical laughing really is the reasonable response

Laddermen doesn't have the same ring to it as Bridgemen though

Sorry Ishnah, the Ghostbloods aren't impressed with you

I am really concerned about how dangerous a position Shallan is re the Ghostbloods

And also the fact that Mraize's statement at the end of WoR about Shallan vs Veil is coming true cause Shallan really is fading

I'm concerned that the reason for this Lightweaving discovery was skipping more meetings that she really should be attending but that is a very useful skill

Okay Shallan that is a good idea I'm impressed. And a nice presentation.

Give everyone a hat-I mean sphere-of disguise

Also glad Elhokar's taking a bit more command

My DnD instincts are too strong though and I keep thinking what if someone has Truesight? Which still could be valid here you never know. Or one of those Stormlight draining creatures like Nale had.

The irony if Gaz is brought along

Eighteen and a half years? How old is Renarin again. How much did the Kholin brothers see of their father in early childhood?

Okay at least being responsible for tactics is a step forward for Dalinar

The Thrill addiction really is disturbing. Such a good underhanded weapon of Odium.

You haven't even read all her letters...

Team Evi deserves better

Really Dalinar you were there for Adolin's birth but not Renarin's? He was the looked over son since birth?

And he ignored the spanreed for the naming of Renarin while delightedly naming Adolin

Dalinar, Evi tried and is at least taking effort to listen and learn tradition

"Like one who was born unto himself" kind of fits Renarin unconventional cryptic but ties to family names, like and unlike

Dalinar you were so elated over Adolin and now Renarin doesn't get that love how dare you

I love Evi

At least Dalinar realizes she deserves better.

Aaaa little Kholin brothers

Evil flying chulls pfft

...as cute as the little kid salute is it is really disconcerting that Adolin doesn't see enough of his father that that is the greeting that happens

D'aww baby Renarin

Okay I am indignant that Renarin isn't getting the same love

Ooo glyph info

The idea of infiltrating the Calligraphers Guild is hilarious

Purity's Eye? I feel like I should be able to place that reference.

Okay this is so cool I love this

Glyph explanations!

Linguistics!

So the general person isn't aware of these procedures? Otherwise I feel like the Stormwardens could have just adopted the phonemes rather than combining glyphs phonetically

Really tempted to attempt to make glyphs now

Yay Jasnah

Wait is this another letter

Hmm does that mean that earlier part was actually multiple letters

That would explain why I got confused

Hoid is sending a lot of letters

Ooh Veristitalian stuff?

Okay that is messed up NanKhet

The fact that Navani turned that area into a scholarly institute is so delightful

Huh that must have been frustrating, wanting to discuss scholarship with people when all they care about talking about is your atheism when you've established that you'd rather not be defined by something that you don't believe

But science and scholarship everywhere!

Hey Jasnah Renarin can float between worlds if he wants it's called balance and being well-rounded

Especially cause if I was in Roshar I definitely be doing the same thing cause Bridge Four but also scholarship

I want to believe you're not so limited

I really respect Jasnah's dedication and effort to quietly protecting her family

And yeah really why are royal families often so messed up

I do not want stormwardens near Renarin albeit for different reasons than Jasnah. I don't trust them.

Tashikk's system is so cool

If the Voidbringers target it....

Fantasy chat room!

Jochi and Ethid I love them already

I'm glad Jasnah has Veristitalian colleagues/friends

See Jochi is well rounded and in two worlds, a philosopher and running a pastry shop

Ooh Ethid’s a scion I was curious about those

Oh right Ethid could have been there when Nale/Darkness/Inspector Javert tried to kill Lift in the Azish palace

Is this how Szeth is going to return to the narrative? Jasnah hunting Heralds?

Jochi spotted Axies the Collector? He's known of in certain circles?

Heh they're discussing Lift

I need to reread Edgedancer to see if Ethid showed up at all

Is Dalinar's vision the unexpected source of the images of the Heralds or something else

Yeah Ethid it really does feel like Radiants are popping up everywhere

I'm just really happy Jasnah has scholar buddies

Wait Navani and Shallan are already discussing wedding Adolin this feels too soon and like something will go wrong probably learning Adolin killed Sadeas

I mean I figured something was off with Renarin given we know what the Truthwatcher spren should look like from that interlude with he poor cobbler and his foresight hasn't been confirmed as a Truthwatcher ability but now I'm really getting scared

*Hisses at Amaram*

I love how two of the characters I despised can technically be referred to by the same name now

OHHH

OHHHHHH

BURN

okay I take it back Amaram's presence was acceptable just so I could see him get burned

"Remind me to find whoever told you and have them hanged"

I LOVE YOU JASNAH

Also bonus points for glowing while you say that

Destroy him Jasnah

Tear him apart

Ugh I actually hate Amaram even more now, dude not listening when a woman says no, physically grabbing her

Oh man this is just delightful

Also I have never seen Jasnah this...vitriolic?

Shame Kaladin isn't watching

Team Amaram haters unite!

This is so beautiful

What does Jasnah know about him though

Heh yeah my reaction is pretty close to Shallan's

Jasnah's just oh no I was a poor example

And to be fair insulting ones female relative isn't a great route but I was just so delighted to see Amaram verbally attacked

Ah Shallan skipping over the part where it was your idea not Elhokar's

Ooh what did Renarin find

What on Roshar? Just sounds a tad jarring even if it fits

Oh that is awesome

Glowing musical gem language to preserve knowledge aaaa

#running liveblogs #oathbringer spoilers #running reads oathbringer #so many delightful things in this part

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narusakufactory · 7 years

Text

Home - Chapter 7

Note: Sorry for any massive mistakes that might be present. Looking for a beta reader to go through and fix the various errors in the whole series! This is the second to last chapter. Look forward to the conclusion where everything finally gets resolved and comes to a close.

As planned, her alarm clock woke her in the morning. Normally, she wouldn’t need it, but watching over a child everyday proved to be more tiring than she thought. Sakura extinguished the loud beep after the first ring. When she sat up and stretched, the dreadful feeling of ‘I slept but not really’ washed over her. The worst.

A sleepy mumble drew her attention to the bed. The alarm clock only annoyed the small sleeping boy by her side. Shina mumbled and buried himself further into the pillow he must have wrestled from under her while they slept. She decided to let him sleep a little longer while she picked out an outfit for him and made a quick meal. She felt like a little girl again, as if she were picking out the next outfit her doll would wear. Shina wasn’t a toy of course, but the feeling was the same.

“Knock it off!”

Sakura paused and swiveled around. Did Naruto REALLY come back after she kicked him out? Abandoning the clothes, Sakura exited her bedroom, checking for herself. She didn’t find Naruto at all, and he wasn’t exactly great at hiding since he still insisted on that orange jacket.

“Just start over, you’ve ruined everything’’ttebayo!”

Or at least, not inside.

Sakura swung open her front door, surprising the Naruto clones sitting outside. There were at least 5 of them sitting around playing a card game. Sakura narrowed her eyes, trying to pick out the real Naruto, but he didn’t seem to be among them. She grabbed the closest one by the ear, dragging him closer.

“What are you doing outside of my house like this Naruto??” She demanded. The clone squired in her grasp, but it was for show. She rarely actually pulled or smacked him hard enough to cause real harm. But he sure loved playing along. She kinda loved it too…

She shook her head. Her mask of indifference towards Naruto slipped more than she previously thought. At this rate… she’d be a mess when Naruto took his relationship with Hinata further. Naruto, the clone, interrupted her thoughts and gently removed her hand from his ear. She expected him to play along a little longer and whine as he usually did… but he looked so serious.

“Last night…. Someone was out here last night Sakura-chan.”

“He stood right over there.” Another clone pointed out to the edge of the forest not very far from her house.

“I don’t think they knew I was here. They ran off pretty quickly after realizing it.” A clone continued. “They were so quick, I failed to catch them again.”

“Sorry.” The clone told her as it still held her hand. “I stayed all night and I left as soon as your alarm went off. I left some clones here just in case. I didn’t want to make you upset.” Sakura frowned. “I mean…. I didn’t want to make you MORE upset and I’m sorry.” The clone repeated.

Someone waiting… outside of her house? Sakura scanned the edge of the forest. How long had they been there, waiting for them to sleep. What did they want?

“Are you sure? Is it… is it the same one from before?”

The clone frowned, contemplating an answer. “Probably.”

“Then they know where I live…”

“Sakura…” The clone gently squeezed her hand, bringing attention to it. Surprised, Sakura yanked her hand away from the warmth that built up from the contact. She glanced around again, making sure no one witnessed the hand holding.

“I understand Naruto. You can leave now. You and your clones.”

One clone glanced at the others, resigned to their fate. Still, the one nearest to her turn back. “Sakura-chan. About last night-”

“You should really go.” She insisted. “I won’t discuss this with a clone Naruto”

“Then, maybe later?” The clone asked hopefully. Sakura turn away, refusing to answer. She did not look at his face, but his body slumped in disappointment and a sigh escaped his lips. “Have a good day then, Sakura-chan…”

The other clones disappeared like a chain reaction filling her entryway temporarily with their smoke. When the final one lifted his hands to dismiss the jutsu, Sakura stopped him. She slapped her hands on top of his, causing him to jump.

“Naruto I…” She didn’t want him to go on the date. Sakura expected them to spend another day with Shina trying to figure him out with a little bickering here and there. If she asked, he would drop date with Hinata without a moment's pause. He would stay if she simply asked. He went on dates with Hinata because she told him to, and he would stop the dates if she told him to.

Why did he listen to her? She knew why. She acted angry and upset when he didn’t and he wanted nothing but to please her. She constantly lead him in a game of cat and mouse, never confirming or denying her feelings and leaving him confused. She didn’t do it on purpose… she was confused too. Everyone expected her to still love Sasuke, even Naruto did to some extent. Was she a terrible person for giving up on Sasuke?

“Naruto… have a good date.” She finished. He deserved someone better. Hinata seemed like a willing option. Hinata seemed more put together and certain of her feelings toward Naruto. It would be unfair to keep him… wouldn’t it? Naruto couldn’t live happily with someone like Sakura, someone who didn’t even understand herself. Wouldn’t she be a terrible person if she took Naruto away from someone who loved him… as much as she did? Someone who wasn’t at all confused about it?

“... Right,” He responded. The clone did not disappear right away. He stared straight through her, reading her like an open book. He almost always knew what she was thinking and feeling even before she did. She hated that... No, she loved it. Another problem, another confusing conflicting feeling she held inside.

“Goodbye.” She said, squeezing the clone’s hands hard enough to make it disappear in a puff.

Today was the day he would fix everything.

Ever since he woke up in the hospital, nothing made sense. The town looked different. His house wasn’t how he left it. Most importantly of all, his parents forgot him. Or at least, he thinks that’s what happened. Sometimes they acted normally, but other times they were complete strangers. He only told them his nickname. They’ve yet to call him his full name, ‘Shinachiku’. All except what happened a few days ago.

His father wore his black and red cloak along with the orange pants his mother disliked. ‘It’s not professional’, she used to say. Whatever ‘professional’ means. His father had his bangs again, they hung just above his eyes and were swept to one side.

That was the only time Naruto called him ‘Shinachiku’. At first he thought his mom and dad were imposters. Fakes pretending to be his real mom and dad like his parents always warned him about. The fakes would try to get information out of him. Or, they would try to hurt him and make him suffer…

None of that happened. Not so far.

The… ‘imposters’ did ask questions, but they gave up quickly and always treated him kindly. They behaved like his real parents. While they couldn’t remember him, they weren’t exactly “imposters”. He gave up trying not to call them mom and dad, they were too real. They WERE his parents.

He just needed to... ‘fix’ them. Help them remember somehow. If he did that, then everything would go back to normal!

… But how?

“Shina?”

“Huh?”

Shina glanced toward his mother. They were holding hands walking through the town early in the morning. Not many people were around this time of day. He’d rather be sleeping… but he liked going to work with his mom. Soon, she said he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore because he had to go to school. His mom hasn’t said anything about school lately...

“Have you been listening?” Sakura asked. Shina shook his head. She sighed. “Sitting in the office might be a little boring, but you can ask for anything and I’ll find something for you to do, ok?”

“I won’t be bored!” Shina grinned. “I’ll be good, I promise.” He spent plenty of time in his mother’s office and he knew he had to behave. The hospital had plenty of books for him to read and pages for him to color on. They even had a playground in the back. He could play in with other kids if he got really bored. When he behaved, he also got a treat at the end of the day or even an extra dessert at dinner. A win-win situation. He did whatever she asked for a special prize. Most of the time anyway.

Sakura gave him a strange look, but didn’t say anything else until they reached the hospital. Her office… was not the same. This smaller office was on the fourth floor, but he remembered it being higher. The only thing the two rooms shared was the large window that had a nice view over some of the shorter buildings in Konoha.

“Here you go.” Sakura dragged over a small desk into the office toward the window. She called in ahead of time and asked the staff to borrow one from the children’s room. She opened it, pleased to find paper and crayons already inside.

“Is this really your office?”

Sakura observed the boy’s reaction. The puzzled look he carried sometimes returned.

“Yes. Do you like it?” She smiled, beckoning him closer. When he got close enough, Sakura pulled out the small seat for him. He didn’t answer her question. He fixated his gaze on the window instead.

“First, why don’t we make a name tag for your new desk?”. The suggestion reignited his curiosity. Shina turned as Sakura reached into his desk to pull out a blank sheet of paper.

“A name tag?”

“Yes. Like the one I have on my desk, see?” Sakura pointed out the shiny fake golden nameplate that sat on her desk. She had one outside of her office too. “When people come inside, there’s no way they can forget my name since it’s on my desk.”

“... They can’t forget?” Shina’s eyes lit up. “If I write my name, then they can’t forget?”

“Yes…” Sakura raised a curious eyebrow. Shina eagerly reached into the desk, pulling out a hand full of crayons. Without much though, he pulled out the red and green crayons. Everything looked better in red and green.

What if he told her… his real name? His full name? Would she remember everything for good? He really want to try it, but something still held him back. This could be a trap too, all a trick to get his real name.

No, he already decided earlier that they WERE his parents. They just forgot is all. And if his name could help, he had to write it down.

“Ok, I’ll write my name.” Shina took the green crayon and careful started to write his name. His mother taught him how. She was so proud and told him and told him he would be super ready to start school.

He started with a “U” and continued with the “zu”-”ma-”ki”. Next, he wrote his first name, it was just as long as his last name. “Shi”-”na”-”chi”-ku”. Shina was his nickname. His mother told him at school, he needed to write his full name on his papers. But why? Most everyone called him ‘Shina’, even his parents. Well, almost everyone. People he didn’t know very well called him his full name. Now that he thought about it, his uncle called him by his full name too…

“All done.” Shina proudly held up the name tag. Sakura hadn’t said a word since he started on it. She stared at the nametag for a long while. Did she remember something? He sure hoped so. Shina waited and waited until she finally spoke up.

“Uzumaki Shinachiku… that’s your name?”

“Yeah’ttebaro! Do you remember?”

‘Remember what??’ She wanted to ask, but she didn’t have the heart to. She wondered why writing his name would bring him so much excitement, and this is why. He thought she was forgetting something. All her talk about not forgetting someone’s name because of a name tag made him think SHE would remember something.

Shina still believed she and Naruto were his parents and that they had simply forgotten about him. A pang shot through her chest. What convinced this little boy that she was his mother and Naruto was his father? He waited patiently for her answer, genuinely waiting for her to ‘remember’ him. The problem was that there was nothing to remember… and yet she so desperately wanted to recall something. Maybe she forgot that she had four or five year old son with the man she secretly loved? Somehow he too had forgotten that they had a little blond hair green eyed child together? She wouldn’t name her child ‘Shinachiku’, surely…

Impossible. Yet here she was, toying with the idea in her mind.

“... You still don’t remember?” Shina lowered the name tag. Disappointment clear on his small chubby face.

“I don’t remember… yet.” She said without much thought. She bit her lip, trying to come up with an explanation.

“Yet?”

“Listen Shina…” Sakura struggled for words. This was the most the little boy had ever opened up to them. If they gathered enough information, Kakashi wouldn’t need to interrogate him harshly or at all. “I think we may just need a little more time, ok? There more things you can do to help us.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She wouldn’t be able to remember anything, but understanding the situation would help them. Additionally… she disliked seeing him so disappointed.

“There is?” Shina’s eyes lit up again. Sakura stood and approached her desk. She had a quick solution to their problem. A test. A few tests in fact. Sakura returned to Shina’s side, needle in hand.

“Shina, is it alright if I perform a few tests? Like… a shot? I think it can help us.”

Shina looked wearily at the needle Sakura prepared. He’d gotten shots before, but he didn’t expect to get one now. If it helped her remember, he had to do it. Right? Shina nodded agreeably.

He should have cancelled the date. His mind simply wasn’t in the right place. Hinata mumbled something about the menu. The waiter had to ask him a few times what he wanted to drink. He didn’t eat his food, he pushed it around the plate absently. He wanted to eat, but he didn’t feel like it.

“... Naruto-kun.”

Sakura wanted to say something to him right before she dismissed all his clones. He saw it in her face. In her eyes. Her hesitance. Her everything. If he had stayed, maybe the talk could’ve happened? That just meant he needed to try harder. Or maybe he was trying too hard? No no, he shouldn’t push her. It was her decision. He knows she feels something, but what right did he have to make her admit it? Even if she did admit it, what then? Naruto pushed more food on his plate, conflicted.

“Naruto-kun?”

As soon as the date was over, he’d rush back to her house and finally work things out. They had too. They could spend the day together just like she wanted. He wanted to stay the night again and be there when Shina woke up, but of course she was angry with him. He didn’t dare to ask. It was fun helping the sleepy kid get dressed and ready for the day. Did Shina miss him yesterday? He thought Sakura mentioned such, but he couldn’t remember.

“...”

Naruto jumped when a hand gently squeezed his arm. He blinked and focused on Hinata. She looked concerned.

“Ah, were you saying something Hinata?”

“... No.” She answered, quickly looking back at her empty plate.

“Whoa! You must have been hungry.” Naruto looked at his own dish. He stirred so much that the food blended together in an unappealing mess. “I’ve barely gotten started’ttebayo....”

“Naruto-kun… are you feeling alright?” Hinata timidly tied her fingers, refusing to look at him.

“I’m fine. Why?” Hinata shrunk into herself further and didn’t answer. “Hinata, what’s wrong??”

Uncomfortable silence passed. Naruto tried not to squirm in his chair and repeated his question. It took patience to figure out what was going on in her head. Well, he never actually knew what was going on in her head, he had to wait for her to tell him. Patience wasn’t his forte.

At last, Hinata took a deep breath and turned to him. She looked timid moments earlier, but now she looked firm, prepared for whatever it was that she decided.

“You’ve been very busy with Sakura-san, haven’t you?”

Naruto hesitated. Yes, for the past few days, he spent all of his time with Sakura and Shina. For good reason.

“I heard… you’ve b-been staying over her house a lot and looking over a child… i-is it true?”

Normally one would say, ‘It’s not what you think!’

If she assumed Naruto was trying to settle his feelings with Sakura and possibly reignite whatever they had prior to when they were dating, she would be correct. He didn’t plan to cheat on Hinata. Never. He also couldn’t end the relationship with her. Everyone told him he owed her. She loved him for so long and he never noticed. He felt terribly guilty about it. Everyone was right, how hadn’t he noticed her before? Like with every problem, he tried to fix it.

No matter how hard he tried, no feelings developed beyond the guilt. He liked hanging out with her like anyone else, but more often than not their dates ended on an awkward and boring note.

He tried to kiss her, but he either didn’t know how or he was simply doing something wrong. It as uncomfortable. When he hugged her, it wasn’t entirely different from hugging anyone else. She was his friend after all. He never craved contact with her. He is her friend, not her lover. He tried. He really tried to feel something more, but nothing came.

He resigned to his fate. Sakura ignored him. Soon he would be with Hokage. Everyone expected him to be with Hinata. His future was set. He wasn’t happy, but Hinata was. All he had left to do was become Hokage and make Hinata happy... even if he didn’t love her.

Then Shina ran into him.

The world flipped on its head. Not immediately, no. It was a slow transition. First he found Shina, tired and confused. He never met Shina and yet… something clicked. He could have passed Shina off for someone else, but he wanted to handle it.

Then Sakura came into the picture. When Shina described his mother, it didn’t really make sense. No one else looked like Sakura, or at least, not to his knowledge. Whether it was her or not, he was fine with using Shina as an excuse to see her face. For months and months she ignored him and avoided him. He had no reason to show up to her house, she’d call him a creep and kick him into the next dimension.

Sakura changed too. Sakura knew him for even less time than him, but she took an interest in Shina too. Sakura was a medical ninja, she would take interest in any injured patient, especially a child.

But when she saw his face for the first time… something shifted in her too. She invited the boy to stay in her home without any hesitation. Even more surprising, Shina quickly fell into her arms and wrapped his arms around her, as if he did it all the time.

Shina called him papa. He thought about it all night. About being a father, or Shina being his son. They did resemble each other.

After that, Sakura didn’t ignore him. All of their conversations revolved around Shina, but he was ok with that. Sakura may not have noticed, but she smiled just like she used to. Not only at Shina, but at him. She complained, nagged, and bickered, just like she used to. Of course he didn’t want to argue with her all the time, but anything was better than her indifference.

It had only been a few days, yet he felt closer to Sakura than he ever had before. All thanks to a little boy. Sakura wasn’t the only one smiling. Shina made Naruto smile too. Naruto was his ‘papa’, and Sakura his ‘mom’. It felt so natural. He craved it, unable to resist the thought of Shina belonging to them.

Last night, Sakura looked so pleased to see him and so upset that Shina hadn’t. Why did he have to screw it up? He shouldn’t have mentioned Hinata at all. Last night was his chance. Last night… Sakura was exactly how she used to be. He missed his chance.

Another chance to confirm her feelings. Another chance to act like a family for a little while. Another chance to figure out the mystery of Shina. A mystery if unsolved… could mean Shina could truly be theirs.

“Naruto-kun…” Naruto blinked. He cursed, realizing he let his mind wander off again.

“I’m sorry Hinata. What was the question again?” She watched him. Hinata frowned. She looked… sad.

“... I’m sorry.” Naruto apologized again. He didn’t know what do when she became like this. Give her a gift? A kiss? A hug? Apologize?

“Naruto-kun… you apologize a lot.”

“Ah… do I?” Naruto rubbed his head and offered a smile. It didn’t work, her expression didn’t change. Hinata squeezed her hands tightly together so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Hinata?”

“Naruto-kun… you don’t have to do this a-anymore.” She whispered shakily. She looked up. Tears started to well in her eyes.

“What?” Naruto’s eyes widened, confused.

“I-I can tell… you aren’t the same. Not when you’re with me.” Hinata took a breath and continued. She held her face, embarrassed to be crying in public. Luckily, they were seated outside away from the other customers, but it brought her no comfort. Naruto fretted over her, unsure of what to do. She wanted him to hold her, and tell her it was ok, but he didn’t.

“Usually, N-Naruto-kun is so cheerful and happy. You s-smile and laugh or do silly things. But when you’re with m-me…” Hinata stopped and lowered her hands to look at him. Naruto’s jaw hung open. She supposed he never expected her to say such things. Hadn’t he noticed her unhappiness? She happy when he was happy… but he wasn’t. Not with her. She knew why. She always knew why. She thought if she were given a chance, she could change his mind. She thought he finally loved her back. Maybe she was just fooling herself, hoping after so many years… he wouldn’t love Sakura anymore.

She truly thought so. Naruto started to pay more attention to her. Slowly but surely, Sakura spent less and less time with him, so Naruto had no one but her. Hinata revelled in his attention. It made her nervous and awkward, but being near him was enough. For a while, she thought he felt the same. That being in her presence would make him happy.

Instead, he always looked so serious and pensive. Tense. Stiff. Fidgety... His mind always went somewhere else. He paid attention to her more, but his mind still wandered somewhere else. Where? Where did his mind go when it wasn’t with her? She already knew the answer, but for so long, she pretended she didn’t.

She pretended he wasn’t thinking about Sakura.

She pretended he wasn’t thinking about Sakura when he smiled so warmly at nothing.

She pretended he didn’t whisper Sakura’s name when he took his naps.

She pretended he wasn’t thinking about Sakura when he squeezed his eyes painfully closed as he kissed her.

She pretended he wasn’t thinking about Sakura when a longing looked passed over his face despite being right next to her.

She knew, even now, he was thinking about Sakura. The woman he loved. Hinata tried, she truly did, but she was not the one who would bring out the Naruto-kun she admired so much. The Naruto-kun she loved… was the Naruto-kun in love with someone else.

Hinata sobbed, but she smiled. She forced a smile to spread on her lips just like Naruto did when they were together.

“Naruto-kun… you don’t have the p-pretend anymore…. Thank you for trying. Thank you.”

Sakura felt terrible. She felt like she tricked the little boy for just a blood sample. Even if she explained what she actually wanted to do, he wouldn’t have understood, right?

Sakura wanted to match Shina’s DNA to their database. All the allied villages combined their medical databases and information save for trade secrets some clans refused to release publicly. If she ran this test through, it would spit out any and all possible relatives in all the allied villages.

‘Uzumaki Shinachiku’. With a name like that, there were very little other possibilities. The last name indicated Shinachiku must be related to Naruto. Or maybe Karin, one of Sasuke’s old traveling companions. Or some other Uzumaki out there? Unfortunately, those were the only two Uzumaki’s she knew. Out of the two options… it simply had to be Naruto. They looked so much alike. Shina even had a verbal tic similar to his. The blond hair. The attitude that sometimes bubbled from under his polite demeanor. The smile… Somehow, someway, Shina and Naruto shared a connection.

She’d be kidding herself if she didn’t see a little of herself in him too. Green eyes weren’t really that rare of a commodity, but their eyes and their face looked strikingly similar. Still...

Theories cycled through her mind over and over. She struggled to lower her expectations. Certainly the results would crush any connection they may have to Shinachiku. Yet… she wanted the results to tell her the impossible. She wanted the results to reveal that Shinachiku did have a connection to them. That… Shinachiku was theirs.

Sakura frowned. How did she become so invested in this again? In only a matter of days… she wanted Shina to somehow be her child. She wanted to protect him and hold him close. Just yesterday afternoon she made plans to spend more time with Shina and Naruto. More walks in the park. A proper trip to the ice cream shop. Sakura could buy Shina more clothes and force Naruto to abandon his neon orange outfits. She could get him a proper bed and some toys to play with. Naps. Playtime… Being with the two of them felt… right, as if Shina had been missing from their lives and he properly slipped into place as he should be.

These feelings couldn’t be normal. Last night she pondered if it could be some kind of jutsu she never heard of. The books and scrolls in her office would have answers, but if not, she’d track down Tsunade and ask her. A trip to the library might be beneficial too. More time spent with Shina meant more answers, she reminded herself. That was the ultimate goal.

Sakura finished preparing the test and allowed the machine to search the database. Because it was so large, it would take a while. If she wanted to, she could directly test her DNA against his, but the thought of it made her nervous.

She made her way back to her office to check on Shina and to check her books for her newest theory. She had to do something to keep her mind distracted as the machines did their work.

“So, this is a family picture?” A voice trailed out of her office, one that certainly wasn’t Shinachiku. And it wasn’t Naruto’s either.

“Yeah. It’s so they can remember.” Shina’s voice rung out. He sounded excited or pleased.

“Oh, what did they forget?” The voice asked. Now that she was closer, Sakura recognized the voice easily. Sakura stopped in the doorway, suddenly afraid of what she might see.

Ino managed to slither her way into her office. Ino and Shina were leaned up against each other comfortably as Shina concentrated on sketching out his doodles.

“What are you doing here?” She tensed when she noticed Ino petting his head. She didn’t feel jealously, but suspiciousness. After all, her best friend was one of the best intelligence gatherers around. Not because her interrogation skills were particularly advanced… but she could read minds. Reading the mind of a child required little effort, especially if the child was distracted with something else.

Ino peered up from Shina’s doodles with a casual smile.

“Ah, there you are forehead. I’ve been looking for you. Have you been avoiding me??”

“Hey!” Shina exclaimed, turning to Ino. “Don’t call her ‘forehead’. That’s mean, auntie.” A frown had spread on Shina’s face and he looked more serious than ever. Both women were taken aback by his change in attitude. Ino chuckled and apologetically ruffled the boy’s hair.

“I’m sorry Shinachiku, I didn’t mean it.” The attitude Shina gained faded away just as quickly as it appeared. “Wow, you’ve got quite a temper under those chubby cheeks.” Sakura cleared her throat.

“Ino, can I talk to you? … Outside?” Sakura motioned toward the door.

“Fine fine.” Ino stood, leaving Shina to continue his work. Sakura closed the door to the office quietly as not to disturb the other offices.

“What are you doing here? What were you doing to him?” Ino didn’t answer immediately, pinning Sakura with an observant gaze. She sighed and waved off Sakura’s concerns.

“Don’t look so worried Sakura. I’m not here for ‘that’. Haven’t been told to do anything yet.”

“... So it’s true, Kakashi wants to interrogate him?” Ino paused again before answering.

“There’s been talk about it. Mostly people curious about the little one you and Naruto took under your wing. You guys have cut yourself off from society ever since.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and began leading Ino down the hall. That was a bit exaggerated. They did keep to themselves as they tried to figure out the mystery of “Shinachiku”.

“So ‘Uzumaki Shinachiku’ is his name? Where’d he come up with that?” Sakura narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Come on, I said I wasn’t here to interrogate didn’t I? Obviously you have a mystery on your hands and I want to solve the child sized enigma too.”

“... He told me today that that was his name. Before he only told us his name was ‘Shina’. I don’t think he made it up.”

“Shina? Mmm… maybe a nickname.”

“That could be…”

“... Sakura, relax already.” Ino placed her hands on her hips. She tried not to look hurt by Sakura’s distrust. “I am genuinely here to help. I’ve been worried about you. You’re acting… weird.”

Sakura relaxed her shoulders. “Right, sorry.” If Ino were here to cause a ruckus, Sakura didn’t think she’d try so hard to be genuine. “...I’ll explain.” Sakura offered.

“Sakura.”

Sakura and Ino stopped. Naruto stood at the end of the hall, breathing heavily. He ran all the way to the hospital when the date with Hinata ended. The date wasn’t the only thing that ended. Their relationship did too.

Naruto was still high on emotion. He felt terrible about it. Hinata balled her eyes out, struggling to explain herself, but all he could do is sit and gape at her. She refused to be comforted and eventually decided to leave. Coupled with his terrible feelings… were feeling of relief. Like a weight fell from his shoulders.

“Naruto… what are you doing here?” Surely his date hadn’t ended so fast. He didn’t say anything as he caught his breath and came closer. “What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” She hadn’t forgotten last night, but seeing him in this state worried her.

“Sakura… we need to talk.”

“All finished.” Shina announced to no one. He held up the picture, admiring his work.

His dad stood the tallest in his picture. Shina used a lot of red on his cloak and orange on his pants. His face had a big crooked smile and two blue dotted eyes. He drew his hair as spiky as he could, just like his real hair.

Next was his mother. He gave her a round belly and a red dress. Although her belly was missing now, maybe… if she remembered she had a belly it would come back? He used pink on her hair, green for her eyes, and purple for her diamond mark. Shina remembered she called it a seal of some kind.

He drew himself and his favorite Katsuyu plushie. He missed sleeping and playing with it. Shina started to draw their house, but he gave up and drew grass with a sun instead.

“What else…” Shina thought aloud. If drawing is all he needed to do to make them remember, he would have drawn much sooner.

Tap. Tap tap. Tapping? Shina looked around the office, but nothing moved even as the tapping continued. A louder tap banged against the window, startling Shina from his seat. Shina held his chest as his heart raced.

“What was that…” He approached the window, pressing his face against the glass. His mother always told him not to do that because he left grease stains on the windows, but right now he didn’t care. From the window, he had a good view of Konoha and the street below. He thought someone threw something at the window.

He tried to pick out people on the busy street. No one noticed him from below. Who threw something at the window? They must be strong to reach up this far. Shina continued scanning the street until finally, he saw someone looking up at him. Shina squinted, trying to decipher their face.

Suddenly, his vision blurred. Shina backed away and rubbed his eyes. What was that all of the sudden? He blinked, but his eyes were back to normal. When he looked out of the window again, the person was gone. Who was that? He didn’t get the chance to figure it out, but they looked… familiar.

A sudden knock at the door startled him again. Shina turned toward the door. Another knock came. If it were his mother, she didn’t need to knock. But there were a lot of people around, maybe a nurse? Shina approached the door, standing on his toes to twist the knob. He expected to see a nurse at the door, wanting to speak to his mother.

“Here you are Shinachiku. I’ve been looking for you.” His father smiled down at him. He had his red and black cloak again. His hair grew long again with his bangs brushed to one side. “Come, let’s go home. You’re probably bored, right?”

“Papa…? What are you doing here…”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m here to take you home.” Naruto offered his hand, and Shina took it.

“Does mom know?” Shina asked. Sakura hadn’t told him that Naruto would come and pick him up.

“Mom is at home waiting for us. You know she can’t move very much because of her big belly.”

“But…” Shina stopped, causing Naruto stop too. “Her belly is gone. And… your hair was shorter. Why? Do you… remember again?” His father said nothing, but the smile slipped from his face. Naruto knelt, looking Shina right in the eye.

“Shinachiku… right now you are dreaming. The ‘papa’ and ‘mom’ in this dream aren’t real.”

Shina’s eyes widened. “A… dream?” Naruto nodded.

“It’s all a trick. You’ve been dreaming for so long, I’ve come to wake you up.”

“... It’s really true?” Shina asked in disbelief. “They’re really…” Naruto’s expression darkened again.

“‘Naruto’ and ‘Sakura’ in this dream are not your parents. They are not real. Haven’t you noticed?” Shina started to speak, but Naruto interrupted him. “The Naruto in this dream has a different girlfriend than your mother. They don’t live together in your house. Sometimes, they aren’t very friendly towards one another. Doesn’t it hurt to see mom and papa apart?”

It did hurt. He noticed strange about his parents, but he thought they only forgot. A dream? This couldn’t just be a dream. He decided that a long time ago. What was his ‘papa’ talking about? Shina held his chest and stepped back. Naruto stood, looking down at him. His father’s face didn’t look quite right. He’d never seen him wear such an expression.

“Shinachiku, we have to go home now.”

Shina turned away and went into Sakura’s office, shutting the door behind him. Or at least, he thought he did. When he turned his back to the door, he was back in the hallway with his dad standing there, looking down at him. Everyone in the hallway disappeared despite how busy it was moments before.

“Shinachiku, we have to go home now. None of this is real.” Naruto repeated, almost robotically. “Come with me.” Naruto offered his hand, but Shina refused it.

“S-stop it!” Shina shouted. Shina turned, needing an escape.

“Come.” Naruto demanded urgently. Everywhere he turned, it seemed like his ‘papa’ was standing there, hand extended. Shina picked a path and bravely rushed past him. He ran and ran and ran, but the hallway never ended. When he glanced back, his father was only inched away from him, as if Shina hadn’t been running full speed at all.

“STOP IT!” Shina shouted, squeezing his eyes shut. In that instant, he heard gasps and confused whispers. Everyone that was in the hallway before reappeared. They stared at him, concerned about his sudden outburst. Shina looked around, but his father was nowhere to be seen.

“Are you alright?” A nurse asked. She approached him, but Shina backed away and rushed to the exit.

“Sakura-chan please.”

Naruto, Sakura, and Ino were cramped up in the room Sakura left the test to run in earlier. Naruto explained everything that happened on his ‘date’. She didn’t know what to say. She was angry at him for letting Hinata go and cry on her own. What man does that to a woman? A woman he’s supposed to love?

“You guys have really wrapped yourself in some classic soap opera drama.” Ino sighed and tapped her foot.

“I’m busy Naruto. Go away.” Sakura stared at the screen as it rapidly scanned through the database. It already scanned through Suna, Kumo, Kiri, and Iwa with no returns. All that was left was Konoha. No one reported a missing child here. None of the orphanages were missing a child. Nothing lined up. Nothing except Naruto’s explanation.

“... Is Shina here with you?” Naruto asked. Sakura scowled, declining to answer such an obvious question. “... You’re still upset with me?” That earned him a glare.

“Do you even know what position you’re putting me in, Naruto??” Naruto and Hinata broke up. She felt horribly for Hinata… but a small tiny thought in the back of her mind persisted.

‘Now you can be together again.’ How sickening. She would never do such a thing. They broke up, but Hinata definitely still loved him. She didn’t think she was a horrible person, but she would be if she became so opportunistic. Even if she wanted to be with Naruto, it simply couldn’t be allowed to happen. Not now, not ever.

“You need to find Hinata right now and apologize to her! Beg if you have to!” Naruto remained silent and just watched her. He made no attempt to do as she said.

‘That’s good. He’s stubborn. Just like you. You know he doesn’t want her.’ The tiny voice in her mind spoke. Naruto never took interest in Hinata. Not until Hinata’s feelings were made clear to him. Sakura wondered how can someone be so blind, but the answer was pretty clear. Naruto had tunnel vision. He found other girls attractive or pretty, but there was only one person he truly considered.

‘That’s right. He’s always loved you. You can’t use Hinata as an excuse to avoid him anymore.’ Maybe not… but she wasn’t going to give up. Naruto’s true happiness was on the line.

“You really think I should?” Naruto asked blandly. “I didn’t break up with Hinata, she broke up with me.” Naruto stepped closer. “And I think I know why. Sakura-chan, you know it too. How terrible I am at lying…”

Sakura gripped the computer monitor. The search had a few thousand samples left to compare. It would be finished in a few minutes.

“No, you’re just being an idiot.” Sakura gritted through her teeth and turned on him. “Naruto, I don’t-” Sakura stopped before the words slipped out. Just like Naruto, she was terrible at lying too.

‘I don’t love you!’ He would sniff out the lie in seconds. She needed to find a different way to try and redirect his attention again.

“I… am in love with Sasuke. And Hinata loves you. Don’t you understand? We can’t be together.” She couldn’t even look him in the eye. Maybe the lie was still too obvious?

Ino rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. The two idiots were obviously in love, but Sakura was being stubborn about it and dancing around the issue. Why? Ino wouldn’t step in, she swore off match-making after the Naruto and Hinata disaster. And what a disaster it was. Hinata’s intentions were pure and her feelings just, but she couldn’t keep up with Naruto no matter how hard she tried. Naruto, on the other hand, still had feelings for someone else and constantly had his head in the clouds. On the surface, they were quite a cute couple, but the problems underneath were apparent.

Ino tried to speak to Sakura about it. Sakura was Naruto’s best friend and she was in love with the dude even if she pretended otherwise. Sakura refused to see it. She became convinced Naruto would be happier with Hinata than herself. How would Naruto tackle this challenge and change her opinion?

A beep on the monitor disrupted her thoughts. Sakura looked at the monitor, shocked by the results.

“What? What do they say?” Ino and Naruto huddled around her, tense atmosphere forgotten.

A list of data displayed on the screen. At the top was a strand she titled “SHINA”. Underneath was a list of matching DNA from most matching to least matching as well as the most likely relationship they had.

HARUNO SAKURA - Probability of Maternity: 99.9998%

UZUMAKI NARUTO - Probability of Paternity: 99.9998%

UZU-

Sakura stopped reading it then. She knew what the rest of the list would be. Naruto’s parents. Then her parents. Then any other relatives she may have. The impossible happened. Shinachiku… was their son.

“What’s… this?” Naruto asked, staring dumbly at the screen. He had a gist of what he was reading, but it didn’t make any sense. “What does it mean?” Naruto continued, glancing at Sakura as she sunk into a chair nearby.

“... Shinachiku has a high probability of being our biological child.”

“Shina… chiku?” Naruto repeated, shocked to hear Sakura mention it.

“His name. He told me his name was Uzumaki Shinachiku. So… I ran a test.” Sakura’s voice was empty, unsure how to digest the information. Earlier she was hoped Shina would somehow end up being theirs, but it was an impossible little wish to giggle about. A silly thought at most, not an actual possibility!

Without a word, Naruto left the room, nearly running down the hall.

“Where are you going?!” Sakura called, following him out of the testing room. Ino stayed behind, analyzing the data for herself. She wasn’t as deeply trained as Sakura on this matter, but she knew enough to make sure there weren’t any mistakes.

Naruto made his way to Sakura’s office. He hadn’t seen Shina yet, but that’s no other place he could be. He opened the door expecting to see the little blond boy inside… but it was empty.

Sakura caught up to him, and grabbed his arm to steady herself.

“Shina?” Sakura entered the small office. She checked under her desk which was the only possible place to hide. “Shina???”

Naruto approached the smaller desk and picked up the picture resting on it. A family drawing. One of him, Sakura, and Shina. Shinachiku.

Shina knelt in an alleyway, hugging his knees as sobs wracked his body. He hated crying, he really did. It gave him a headache. His nose ran and his eyes stung.

His father followed him out of the hospital. He followed him everywhere. Shina didn’t understand. No matter where he went or where he turned, his father was right there. Waiting for him. His dad was good at hide and seek, but not like this. He was more like a ghost chasing him around.

“Shinachiku… don’t you want to go home?” Shina raised his head. His father’s face changed again. He looked more like himself again, albeit worried.

“I-I do wanna go home…”

“Then, why do you run away?”

“You’re… scary.” Shina confessed. His dad was always weird, but not THIS weird. Naruto smiled softly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He explained. “I really want to go home with you now, to your mother.” Shina ached to give in and agree to go with him… but he resisted. He had to make sure what he was saying was true.

“This is really… a dream?” Shina asked. Naruto shifted and sat cross legged in front of Shina.

“Yes, it is.” He stated calmly. More calmly than earlier. “You accidentally fell here, and I’ve come to take you out. No one knows you because this is not where you belong. The people you call mom and ‘papa’ may technically be the same, but the dreams have made them into very strange people, haven’t they?”

It made a lot of sense. No one knew him here, not even his mom and dad. They didn’t look like they were supposed to, and the town was so familiar but clearly different. He never had a dream like this one, but boy did it explain a lot. Shina nodded.

“I’m not trying to scare you.” Naruto opened his arms warmly. “Come on. Let’s go home, Shinachiku. You’ll be safe and everything will be normal again. No more bad or strange dreams.”

This time, Shina didn’t resist. Shina jumped forward, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck. Naruto returned the favor and tightly wrapped Shina in a hug as he got up.

“Everything will be ok.” Naruto whispered, walking away from the alley towards the forest nearby.

An intense feeling washed over Shina. It made him dizzy and tired. His vision became so hazy that he couldn’t see where they were going. His arms and legs felt weak as his head sank into the crevice of Naruto’s neck. He closed his eyes, unable to fight against the heavy weight of his eyelids.

Just then, he had the smallest realization that his father didn’t smell like this father at all.

#narusaku #shinachiku #sakunaru #naruto #sakura #fanfiction #may2017

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mysydneymemories-blog · 6 years

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Motherhood offers greater rewards than parliament

I wish Kelly O'Dwyer well in her choice to spend more time with her family. I advise her that young children ask a lot of questions and want answers relevant to the subject. -Bea Hodgson, Gerringong Kelly O'Dwyer has legitimate reasons for quitting politics, but no doubt other Coalition members will be jumping ship in the lead up to the election for less than honourable reasons. I suspect the prospect of at least six years in opposition, or worse still, suffering the humiliation of losing their seat, will prompt some not to recontest as election day draws nearer. -Graham Lum, North Rocks The Liberals' Kelly O'Dwyer and Senator David Bushby ("Liberal senator announces resignation, gets plum overseas post 60 minutes later", January 19-20) have announced their resignations. There will be more to come as the thought of those long, lonely years in Opposition begin to keep our Coalition representatives awake at night. And if you are a woman in the Liberals and Nationals? You could be the last one standing. -Wendy Atkins, Cooks Hill Our environment should be an Australian value I was prompted by the values ("Australian values: what the bloody hell are they?", January 19-20) article to read the government's booklet for would-be Australian citizens, Our Common Bond. Not one serious hint of Australia's amazing biodiversity, except for floral emblems and the odd picture of a gum tree. Not even a koala or kangaroo, except for the coat of arms. Many people new to a place find connection, beauty and solace in the natural environment of their new home, just as many Australians serving overseas in world wars found comfort in receiving gum leaves or wattle sprigs pressed between pages of letters from home. Maybe even a mention in the government booklet that Australia is the home of the gum tree would be some acknowledgement of what contributes to make Australia distinctive, and hopefully engender a love of the incredible animals and plants that exist only here. -Jane Gye, Cowan When I came to Australia in 1970, the widely held values of the time supported separating Indigenous children from their parents, keeping married women out of work, racism, keeping "new Australians" in their place and hating Japanese. The White Australia policy was still widely supported. Corruption, in NSW and Victoria, was widely tolerated. Rather than having an obligation to accept the values of my new country, I had a clear obligation to oppose them and to lend my support to those who sought to change them. New South African citizens at that time had an obligation to oppose, not support, the values of apartheid. And, for goodness sake, what values should new German citizens have adopted at the start of the 20th century? The very idea that anyone has an obligation to adopt Australian values just because those values are Australian is absurd. -Martin Bibby, Beecroft In 1956, I "swore allegiance to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, her heirs and successors" at a ceremony conducted in the Blacktown Shire Council. I sent my Certificate of Naturalisation securely encased as a scroll to the NSW Department of Education to qualify for permanency of employment. The document was returned to me folded several times and no longer suitable for mounting and display. As an avowed Republican, I have made inquiries about renewing my allegiance to Australia and its people, rather than the British monarchy. (PS I will abide by any dress code nominated by ScoMo but will not wear a baseball cap.) -Ferdo Mathews, Robina (Qld) Diversity equals quality in politics The excellent editorial ("It is time to bring outsiders inside Canberra's bubble", January 19-20) gets to the heart of Australia's political system problems. Lack of diversity and quality in the parliaments. It goes beyond the gender issue. Remarkably two other articles in that edition concentrate on the same problem: Eryk Bagshaw's "No more diversity, lots more staffers" (January 19-20) and Michael Koziol's "Why era of box seat independents is almost over" (January 19-20). What is missing in these pieces are two crucial questions: why is it so? and what can be done about it? The cause is the single-member-district electoral system. The remedy: introduction of proportional representation open party list, used in 90 other countries. As the major parties have no plans for governance system change, the minors and independents should get the ball rolling. In addition, drop the Westminster practice of selecting governments only from elected MPs. The talent pool available in the wider society is really much larger. -Klaas Woldring, Pearl Beach Is it better to have a "bubble" than a "swamp" in Canberra? -Ciaran Donnelly, Lane Cove West Hemp is the answer If the cotton farm fields are so empty of crop, and the return on harvest as low as reported ("Cotton industry rejects blame for ailing Darling", January 19-20), now would be an excellent time to transition to growing hemp. The move at this time would give them everything to gain and very little to lose. -Anthony Healy, Willougby East No butts about it So Wendy Squires was "talking out of her butt", was she ("True blue furphy: Australia is changing, but not for the best", January 19-20)? Sorry, luv, here in Australia the word is "bum" or "arse" or, if you are in polite company, "bottom" or "behind", although those who have upper-class pretensions might use "derriere". -Ian Falconer, Turramurra Lack of support That the alleged killer of Aiia Maasarwe ("Aspiring rapper held over student's 'horrific' killing", January 19-20) has been arrested is good news. More disturbing is the young man may be suffering from mental health issues and is perhaps homeless. That such a young man is no doubt filled with our society's many unhealthy attitudes towards women, the other question to be asked, is how is it okay that in such a wealthy country as ours do we tolerate the failure to support those suffering from mental health issues, and their all-too-common partners of unemployment and homelessness? We should all be able to walk our streets in safety, but we should also look at the growing disparity in wealth and how that affects the lives of those born into poverty and hopelessness. -Colin Hesse, Marrickville Engineering consent Thank you for your article, Elizabeth Farrelly ("NSW, where any mug can be an engineer", January 19-20). Should we wish for a tsunami to destabilise these atrocious buildings? Seriously, we've never had really good buildings in Sydney, nor in the whole state. No wonder we pay to stay in weird European flats that were built in the 16th century. Despite the wars, they stand. The showers beggars belief, the kitchens are invariably minuscule, but we like the streets they line, the towns they blend into. Ah well. -Carolyn van Langenberg, Blackheath Elizabeth Farrelly points out a lot of the problems that have been around for a long time in the engineering and construction industry. The peak professional engineering membership body, which only accepts engineers who have qualifications acceptable to the body, is the Institution of Engineers Australia. Members have the post-nominal MIEAust, but there is no requirement for engineering/construction companies to employ engineers with this qualification in NSW. For many years the institution tried to get a distinguishing word for "professional engineer", which could only be used by MIEAust members. This appears to have been unsuccessful, consequently anyone can call themselves an engineer with or without qualifications. -Ian Nicholls, Baulkham Hills Long weekends a must In answer to Stuart Dorney's letter about the placement of Australia Day (Letters, January 19-20), before 1988 that is what happened, the last Monday of January was Australia Day, until a politician decided we should celebrate it on the actual day. The "last Monday" was low-key, none of the hype and hyperbole we have now, plus most businesses were closed so the majority of the population could have a weekend to celebrate or commiserate the day. Remember when Australia was "the land of the long weekend", now we are a global city business must be open for the tourists or the locals who forgot the bread. In this election year, both state and federal, let's pressure the politicians to give us back our long weekend. So Michael and Bill, if you win, can we go back to the future, give us back our long weekends? -Robert Pallister, Punchbowl Last century Australia Day used to be moved about to make it a long weekend. Does that mean you would change your birthday to the nearest Friday or Monday? -Ron Field, Bermagui Germany's friendly fire Edward Houghton-Ward declaimed De Gaulle's antipathy towards England and Churchill in particular (Letters, January 19-20). Elsewhere in Europe, the Germans had their own problems. Due to vaulting ambitions and professional egos, Admiral Raeder (Kriegsmarine) clashed with Marshall Goring (Luftwaffe) over the tactical use of air power in support of their naval operations. Communications were so poor that once, early in the war, the Luftwaffe managed to sink two German destroyers. The Royal Navy was delighted. Inter-service rivalries are a killer. -Mike Fogarty, Weston (ACT) More design flaws? Given the problems surrounding the construction of Arthur Phillip High School are sufficiently serious to inspire a decision to build no more high-rise schools in NSW ("Blowouts spell end for school high-rises", January 19-20), it seems reasonable to ask why the design process did not reveal at least some of them? -Norm Neill, Darlinghurst Service interrupted Also, Rob Hughes (Letters, January 19-20), the tennis champions you named don't go through an elaborate, time-consuming routine before serving, unlike Nadal, Murray and many women. With all their years of experience could they not learn the simpler way? And with ball boys and ball girls available there is no need for players to keep spare balls. Keeping one in a pocket is one thing but there is no such special provision in women's pants. Why do they do it? -Roger Henderson, Wollstonecraft CANARY TIME How delighted I was to see Clive Palmer's political advertisement in the Herald (January 19-20) highlighted in yellow. It helped my eye look elsewhere immediately. The colour is so appropriate, just like a canary in a nickel mine. -Deb McPherson, Gerringong I see from Clive Palmer's large in-your-face ad that we need more women in parliament. Palmer says that women "should be accepted not just because of their beauty". If that is the barometer for their acceptance in parliament then it seems we really do have a long way to go. Sack your copywriter, Clive. -Judy Hungerford, North Curl Curl CASSETTE REVIVAL I hope they know they'll need a pencil to wind the spool on when it gets loose ("Music fans hit rewind in cassette fad", January 19-21). -Michael Deeth, Como West ROYAL PAIN It's a stain on Australian bodies and institutions that we need royal commissions, with probably more to come, to investigate wrongdoing in society. Why not have a royal commission into royal commissions, and while we are at it, one into the Tomic and Hewitt feud? -Corrado Tavella, Rosslyn Park (SA) Most Viewed in National Loading https://www.smh.com.au/national/nsw/motherhood-offers-greater-rewards-than-parliament-20190120-p50sin.html?ref=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_feed

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