#Lake Lure Flowering Bridge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blankdblank · 3 years

Text

It’s a Mother Flocking Puffin Pt 21

Barefoot in a heavily embellished fluffy layer crazy skirted gown, with a lace full length sleeved top, sheer save for the corseted bodice layered with embroidered flowers and vines all across it you stood in the center of what could only be a lake. Deeply you sighed lifting a surprisingly injury free hand to brush back the bangs blowing into your face on the breeze to the shift of toes on the lone rock you had landed on. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, as if your life couldn’t get more awkward in this tropical sort of paradise you kept zapping yourself off to when times got tough quite randomly somewhere you would find a new friend. Usually absurdly tall Elves or other massive animals who guided you on small adventures or train you to whatever craft they were practicing that you had stumbled across.

But the lake was new. The ocean you had dropped into but not this lake, in fact narrowing your eyes in another scan of the land around you those geode formed trees weren’t familiar either. Even the ground seemed to give off a golden sort of glimmering dust blowing around the shoreline looking far too course to be taken as sand. “Hmm,” the scent of mead and a feast was what forced you to turn fully around on that little island finding a cliff wall just covered in stone statues and runes you couldn’t place alongside weapons and the faces of beasts from one end to the other as best you could manage against its curve and break behind more of those geode formed trees.

Sharply you inhaled and said, “Fingers crossed there’s no pelicans this time.” Foot extending for ice to gather underneath for the start of the stepping stone bridge to the cliff wall.

Half a mile to shore the shadow of the wall fell over you for a stunning chill free path in this pleasantly warm mystery island you found. Even in the shadow the way ahead was clear thanks to the glimmering trails cast by fireflies floating off the tall grass your feet brushed through with flight paths in spirals around your gently glowing self. The heads of the figures carved into the cliffs grew white fluffy brows in the drop of the nearest clouds thanks to the growing breeze shifting directions that wanted away to where Manwe deemed them destined. The drift of musical notes lured your eyes downwards in a wonder to where it was coming from.

Off to your right however the sudden plop of a boulder into the lake had you lifting your skirts allowing the lick of water to spill over your bare feet then recede again to the roll of the new addition towards the shore. Hunched and dull in its split apart an elderly Dwarf began to straighten up on its feet again. The more it did backwards the clock turned with youth seeped into each crack and crevice until alive again the limber younger form of the Dwarf smiled to itself on its eager steps ahead following the same sent their bulbous curled mustache framed nose had caught a whiff of.

Three more stones fell under and rose up to the surface of the same mirror like lake while you hurried a couple steps around a waking badger in its den you were passing hoping not to scare it. Curiously at the sight of you it began to follow along right with the clicking Ravens and Crows above on tiny ledges in the wall hopping forward as you did to keep you in view. Between the legs of one of the figures what appeared to be a wall wasn’t and timidly you walked onward still following the Dwarf now smiling at discovering the hidden doorway that with a hand out you noticed was an illusion hidden archway using the wall behind a narrow entrance hall to complete said disguise. To the right it branches and wound a half turn back jaggedly to open into an endless mountain city. Layers upon layers of floors with fires and joyous Dwarves were to be seen.

“Ahem,” behind your back a burly Dwarf look you over at your prompt glance back.

“Sorry,” you replied with a quick step aside into the hall along the wall. The Khuzdul you spoke however had his eyes fixed on you through your quick flash of a grin. “Taking it all in.”

Stepping inwards he kept his eyes on you allowing the two behind him through to trot ahead in search of someone of something they clearly were expecting. “Hmm, could have sworn I knew you.” His head bowed and curtly he turned and strode past you with grin returning headed to who knows where.

Head tilted slightly again your eyes rose and fell admiring each carved pillar and statue coating the sections of floors with colored glass shifting shades in each of the brave steps you took forward. Once past the first landing down three broad steps you almost had to hop to reach the next in a somewhat graceful way without hiking your skirts all the way up thanks to your little legs the Dwarves behind you took with some irritating sense of ease even in their own heavily layered skirts. A soft breath left your lungs on the edge of a grand ballroom packed with those dancing, feasting and drinking encircled by those sharing grand tales and raucous jokes.

Didn’t take long however for eyes to shift your way in return and off in a distant corner a shoulder was tapped to nod one of the burliest to come and inspect the newcomer. One low hanging decoration turned you around to the wall to get a better look on its gradual spin around the tile you had stepped onto. With a gasp however when you turned back a familiar pair of blue eyes had fallen upon you.

“Durin, you’re, I know you’re him.”

Gruffly he replied in Khuzdul also stunned at you’re knowing his mother tongue. “You seem awfully certain of that.”

That had you giggle and step off of the tile to avoid the decoration passing between you smiling up at him, “No I know you I’ve seen your face on portraits and statues all through the Palace in Erebor and even one in the Iron Hills.”

Ever so slightly his eyes narrowed causing his dark brow to furrow in the process, “I do not know of this Erebor you speak, and these Hills,”

“Well, I’m not fairly certain the exact dates, but your clan moved from the Grey Mountains to a new Kingdom named Erebor, it’s near the Greater Greenwood.” He shook his head, “It’s just past the Misty Mountains kind of North to Rohan and Gondor, if you sort of curve,” you said with a curve of your hand after points on some imaginary map between you involuntarily making the corner of his mouth tick upwards. “Look, I’m not an expert on schematics of where you have dwelled, but your family rule over Erebor, Dale, a sub city of Erebor, and Moria as well as the Blue Mountains, and King Nain rules over the Iron Hills so I think that means he’s either one of your relatives or married into your clan. So I think that counts too.”

“You said Nain?” You nodded and he turned, “Gorpumbden!” (‘Gather my whiskers!’) “Fetch Rtain! The little Lass knows his grandson!”

Outwardly he was smiling now and asked in the rush of one group of Dwarves rushing off to fetch the Dwarf while his hand motioned to guide you onwards back to his own private table with his wives from his lifetimes and their children and all the generations of grandchildren milking about nearby with their own broods. “Tell me, who else do you know from my line, Little Lass?”

“Oh, well, I’ve met nearly everyone in Erebor, well you see, it’s sort of,” you sighed and he glanced over your confused pouting moment luring grins on the faces of others you passed through across the dance floor matching his timed steps to do so with ease between bounding couples. “Ok, I’ll start here, I met my One, Thorin II, son of Thrain and grandson to King Thror. I’m not certain how far down your line they are, and well we weren’t married at first. But then we met and I sort of bumped into him and I thought I’d have a heart song but I never heard one but it turned out these freckles on my back were a Mate Mark,” you said lifting your wrist to show off the bracelet spreading his smile admiring the craftsmanship. “And he’s been so kind to me, whole clan has really, I had some trouble with my adopted clan but then he helped with that too.”

You had reached the table and he faced you asking, “And just how far has young Thorin II reached in his courting of you, Little Miss?”

“Oh we had to elope, so technically we’re married but we’ve picked a cottage and are designing rings and I made him some love spoons.”

Adoringly his hand reached out to cradle your lifted hand inspecting your wedding band, “How precious. I do not know the pain he must suffer at your place here. Though as part of my clan you are amply welcome to wait for him amongst us.”

Rtain arrived beaming and eager to hear more about his son and grandson that you had met through the service only stirring up more confusion for how a clearly non-Dwarf had made it to the Halls of Mahal. A familiar passing Dam had your mouth drop and you said, “Celeste!” Draped in yards of velvet in fuchsia over her pastel pink gown she had been painted in, her hazel eyes scanned over your waving and smiling self, “Oh don’t you look lovely. That is a fitting color on you. Really compliments your mustache.”

Three confused steps later and she reached your table while the males behind you grinned at your bubbly self just blooming in this social circle of their clan and others you had known from portraits in passing. “Forgive me, but I do not seem to be able to place your name.”

“Oh, you don’t know me, Jaqiearae Pear,” you said extending your hand with the name making a Dam dancing stumble and straighten to look you over having recognized the name. She accepted the handshake and you added, “I married into your clan, I’m designing my ring after yours. Hope you don’t mind it is stunning.”

Widely she smiled and accepted a spot beside you to talk about the ring now a ghostly glimmering copy on her finger of the one back in the vault back at the Palace. After the discussion of band changes and her blessing was given she asked in an almost pained tone, “How did you find yourself here?”

“Well, that’s a bit of a winded answer, but, Melkor hated my clans and sent others by some oath after he was killed to attack them. My parents went into hiding but they found them anyways and killed them.” Beards bristled and fists clenched the more you shared, “And I was adopted by a Noldo in Numenor. Then I got accepted to University in Dale where I met Thorin’s nephews Fili and Kili my roommates. They took me along for a break to the Palace where I met the rest of your clan there and bonded with Thorin. Since then they’d helped me to find my birth family. Then this morning the followers of Melkor remaining brought a Fire Drake to the school. And last I remember Thorin just got back to the Palace and was eating while I spoke to Fili and Kili through tea, then I was in the lake. And I heard all of you.”

After a solemn moment from them you asked, “Your clan has faced coups for centuries, a lot of people got hurt and could have died when they were after me, how am I supposed to live with that weight?”

Hands were laid on you and several shared words of wisdom on their own experiences with acceptance of that same weight until Durin asked, “The Beast was brought down?”

You nodded, “I shot him with a wind lance,” rippling proud smiles your way.

“Mahal’s Beard! Very good!” More than one of the clan exclaimed.

“Didn’t take very long, though everyone was scared and Bagheera especially was upset.”

That had his beard puffing up and him smiling widely, “You saw my Bagheera?”

“Yes, he’s back at the Palace. Probably won’t be glad for me to miss a meal. Sometimes it takes days for me to get back from these islands.” Lips parted in confusion for what you meant, “Though this is a first time here and I wasn’t expecting all of you. Not that I don’t-,”

“There you are Little One,” beaming through the crowd that barely reached his hip Tulkas strolled through the dancers with hand outstretched for yours, “I presumed you would meet me by the wading pools, but Manwe’s companions took notice of your waking here.”

“Oh, I have to go,” you said laying your hand on the outstretched one from Tulkas and said to Durin and the others, “It was so amazing meeting you. Perhaps I can wander back here again sometime.” To Durin especially you said, “I’ll give Bagheera some fruit for you. I know he misses you terribly.”

Speechless they watched while Tulkas faded to mist and in a small snow flurry you were gone leaving the Dwarves more confused than ever. A state that had the First Born on his feet in a curious search for Mahal in his wife’s gardens to ask about the curious visitor.

Hand over his mouth Fili woke to Kili’s tug on his mustache and in a turn of his head he knew why he was woken. Across your skin faintly glimmering clan lines mapped out the stretch of your bloodline to the Eldar on your already glowing skin. And sweet and low Khuzdul eased from your lips in half hearted sighs echoing of your deep deep wandering dream none but you could shake yourself from. Taps on Thorin’s nose had his soft snores halting and eyes patting in time to hear your next murmur of, “Durin.” Wide eyed he sat up joining the boys, the younger of whom was already recording your side of the conversation that ebbed in and out only giving part of your side of it confusing them all the more why you were dreaming of talking to their clan father.

Through the door the Emperor peered having heard your voice and from there in his step into view he said, “I see My Yuula is speaking with her friend Meldamalta again.”

Thorin asked, “This is common? For her to speak in her sleep?”

At that the Emperor grinned to himself replying, “That is no ordinary sleep. My Yuula has taken Olórë Mallë, and her fea is within Valinor.”

Fili’s mouth dropped open, “Her soul-!!”

Kili clasped his hands over his brother’s mouth looking to you undisturbed still deep in sleep and the Emperor stated in his move closer, “She cannot hear you, when she was a child I realized as a Vanyar her path to Valinor is much easier than other Elven races might find it. The pathway is a mental one that through the link in her mind her fea may travel there at its whims. When she was younger she was often gone for days at a time, and always after times of troubling circumstances. The Valar will not allow harm to find her there it is quite safe.”

Thorin wet his lips and asked, “She is speaking to Durin though. Not any Meldamalta.”

The Emperor’s lips pursed, “Hmm, perhaps due to your marriage she is allowed there. Often she finds herself in different areas of the Valar’s control, Meldamalta will find her.”

Kili, “Who is Meldamalta?”

The Emperor answered quite matter of factly, “Tulkas.” Dropping their jaws, “Upon her first visit there My Yuula informed me she met a kind giant being with golden hair she couldn’t understand who allowed her to braid a crown of Marigolds into his hair and call him Meldamalta. He is quite fond of her, and his son enjoys their times in Nessa’s gardens.”

Fili, “You’re telling me Jaqi is friends with the Valar Tulkas?”

The Emperor answered, “He loves children and has watched her grow. They all have.”

Kili, “She would have told us! I would have told her if I knew Mahal!”

Thorin asked, “She only knows him by Meldamalta?”

“Correct,” was his answer.

Fili chortled, “You have to be joking! How could she not know! You know!”

The Emperor simply pointed and on the headboard where they hadn’t noticed Bagheera was seated puffed up with golden eyes glowing. “Each trip once she had woken once I had recognized the gardens and lands she had explored and faces of those guiding her and teaching her skills in each try to share where she had been he would stop me. She is not ready to know yet it would seem. Though in my teaching her Valinorian he has calmed to my learning of her travels at least and the times have lessened in her being able to converse with them. They grant her council where my expertise is limited.”

Kili, “Why don’t you go with her?”

“Noldo are forbidden re-entrance to Valinor since the departure from those shores without Valar permission. I grew up in those lands and as a child my parents brought me here. Though I have never witnessed the Halls of Mahal myself, in fact I cannot name an Elf ever noted to have traveled there. It must be due to your union.”

“Celeste,” the name turned their heads and Thorin smiled guessing as the others had why you would speak to her, namely the ring you would share stirring up questions if you would mention them as well to their ancestors.

Fili mused, “Great Gran will be so pleased she went to the Halls of Mahal to wedding plan.”

The Emperor said, “You can rest she will share her adventures upon her return.”

Kili, “So she just knows she has long dreams?”

“No, it is very much a physical journey for her. Several times she has stated she simply wakes up in odd locations in beautiful gowns.”

“Meldamalta,” you sighed out and they blinked curious to know should they arrive in those hallowed halls which Valar they might come to know themselves.

The Emperor chuckled and stated, “You should get some more rest been a long day and she won’t be screaming.” He said to the steady sighed Valinorean wafting out of you like a sweet hummed lullaby that took the trouble out of their drift back to sleep, right away they felt the physical urge to lay back down cuddled around you eased off to their own dreams again. Leaving just the Emperor eyeing Bagheera who he asked softly, “She is growing stronger?”

The owl fluffed up and let out a low chirp in an affirmative response as he usually did for the adoptive father’s question he had repeated through the years in wait while the Valar bolstered your hope and strength. And while he was mostly correct in his assumptions the owl was not keeping him from telling you the name of the beings you had been conversing with but trying to tell him that you already knew deep down just not believing it to be really true. Fear was what he was protecting you from, any fear or possible shame taken in any slight imagined and that path could be lost to you forever without the knowledge of how you were actually sending yourself there.

Though an adult on technicality you were very much a child and far from knowledgeable on deeper things you had not been taught by the elders of your clans as you should have had Melkor not struck his deadly blow. A child with strength you didn’t understand to master without their help all these years with just among the remaining lessons to share how you were waking in those sacred lands. They did miss you when you were away, but the time in between showed such heart warming strength brewing inside you, this time all the more in having arrived in, for all your other kin, an impossible place. But Tulkas had you now and he was assured the master dueler of the Valar would enjoy the story and send you on your way home back to him again. Hoping to himself that even in his exile they might not think too harshly of him now that he’d grown from the boy they once knew.

Smiling widely in the gardens with your friends you sat talking while seated on a blanket for the picnic readied for you while the smiling Valar listened to the whole detailed story on the Drake luring the Elves serving under the cuddling couple across from you to come and listen. Loudly Tulkas laughed with pride for his youngest pupil while Nessa beamed at the clear passing of her swiftness lessons beyond just words that you had picked up in training on your own. His bravery and feats of strength and her agility and speed having aided in your success amongst lessons with Ulmo for the obvious control of water. The others far less obvious in their lessons, granting aid more in tasks and mini adventures during your stays in Valinor, rather hoped to present a chance to find those traits within yourself.

Although a few of their pupils, including one from Aule had aided greatly in the growth of your wood working craftiness, Celebrimbor in a new form had found himself in your path and in those bright eyes of yours found a kindred soul he wished to help and took to teaching you the basics. Among those pupils was Ecthelion of the Fountains, here again relaxed listening to your tale smiling with the others flute beside him in its carrying pouch that he had used to help teach you on the instrument between two more of your music instructors self assigned to ensure some time with spectacular you. No shortage of pupils had prided themselves on passing on what they had learned and a bit more on discoveries of their own to maybe aid you one day.

Off beyond a row of hedges through a disguising stream of water off a fountain a couple stood staring longingly at their child back here again, Jewels cuddled against her husband Lindo’s chest, both smiling faintly that their baby girl was growing so much stronger by the day. Even more so having brought them justice by searching out their attackers, whom Mandos was now taking personal attention to doling out Manwe’s orders for their atonement.

Both parents formerly in their unrest unable to travel here themselves since the date Mahal aided in their resting memorial in Erebor, now had a sort of physical form here in these lands to aid in their coming to terms with their own grief for all they, their clans and you had lost. They adored being close to you for so long however without a proper resting memorial from you they could not have visited you here until now, and even still they were fearful of approaching not to keep their precious girl from returning to her new life, the one you had fought so hard to build and defend.

Behind them however Este crept closer and hushedly began to speak with the pair sharing what they had missed through your trips here. “You will be strong enough to meet again one day, the three of you, you will,” she spoke softly warming their hearts as they nestled closer watching a bright smile split across your face laughing along with Tulkas and Nessa to a joke from their son.

Hours you had lingered and the same telling creep of bluebell vines towards your hand set aside gave you the same gut clench feeling that it was time to go. The look always was evident on your face and smiling still the crowd bid you safe travels. Up you stood with another ring of marigolds in hand you eased onto the glowing golden ringlets Tulkas had tied back from his face with ribbons from his beloved wife. In releasing the crown your fingers curled back in a slow recoil of your hovering hands recalling the first crown you had given him and the meeting of all the larger beings here you had once been unable to understand at all. His eyes lingered on your face with smile still in place through his thanks knowing things were clicking into place on who he was.

And softly you asked, “Are you really Tulkas?” Deeper his smile set in sinking more into his eyes at the bubbling courage in your gaze in asking, “Can I still call you Meldamalta?”

Tenderly his hands rose to cradle yours, “I have been and always will cherish being your Meldamalta.”

On his side Nessa eyed the still creeping bluebells reaching for your legs in your spring forward to loop your arms around his neck, eyes clenched in a tight embrace stirring a deep chuckle to his arms laying across your back, “Thank you for finding me.”

“Ooh now, Little One, you were the one to find me.” His words accented with a brush of fingers against your cheek in your step back brushing away the invisible trail of the tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye holding it in place somehow.

Nessa smiled adding in her own taking of your hand, “The most welcome snow flurry in our lands, most precious Little One. Your bluebells are calling you to wake.”

Looking down you asked, “How do I keep arriving here?”

She smiled saying, “We have yet to travel that road, only Irmo would know.”

And up you looked finding Manwe approaching to the winding of a vine of bluebells around the layers of skirts folding in around your legs the more they climbed, “Fly safe, brave little Nique-Puifíní. And pray do inform Winge we have greatly missed his company here, his parents might have chosen to sail from these shores, an innocent to their oath, and welcome to return upon finding that doorway of dreams.” Like sinking into a well his voice began to muffle and echo in your ears to the clench of your eyes while from the feet up back into your flurry you shifted. Vana smiled in her stroll through the garden again in another try to find how you were entering these lands exactly to solve the sort of game Irmo had made in keeping the secret of how you arrived here each time.

To the opening of the door by a Butler entering to feed your fire at your side against Thorin’s side from your straight upwards position into him you leaned resting your head against his forehead. The sharp pain in your ribs stopped your wiggle into his side and when your ribs throbbed again a crack of your eyelid not being touched by a strip of his brushed up hair and softly you grumbled which drew a stirring breath from Thorin releasing his own grumble. Off behind his back however the Emperor whispered in a reach over him with dropper in hand containing medicine to help with the pain you were facing, “To ease your pain.” Groggily you parted your lips and with three drops on your tongue he drew back the dropper to add back to its bottle with a kind grin.

After wetting your lips you said, “I know Meldamalta’s real name now, remembered it.” Easing out his smile, “I was asked, Manwe says they miss you,” parting his lips, “Said you are always welcome back when you find the doorway, your parents swore the oath not you.”

Tearily he smiled again, “Thank you for telling me that. How are you feeling?”

“My head itches,”

“Bunnanunê,” Thorin rumbled through a deep inhale beginning to shift to prop himself up pressing a gentle kiss to your mildly bruised cheek between the scrapes there. “You are awake.”

“Just the one night?” You asked and he smiled.

“Just the one, are you in pain?”

“Not so much pain that I have to wash my hair.” Thorin nodded and with the stirring of the boys the bench brought earlier was moved to the side of the tub in a painful shrug he removed the sling hindering his ability to tend to you fully and scooped you up gingerly carrying you to the bath to lay you down on the bench. With care Fili held your neck while Kili turned on the water as Thorin undid your braid to the Emperor easing the bowl of healing oils and creams over with sleeves rolled up and comb in hand to begin recoating those cuts and scrapes aiding in some of the discomfort right away.

From the bottom to top the water was run stopping two inches from your scalp with Thorin tenderly lathering your shampoo lovingly into each curl watching the bloody grimy suds flowing down soon washed away revealing those awe striking curls. Without so much as a tug he wrung out the water he could and with Fili holding the blow dryer, certain to keep aimed away from your scalp that Kili held a hand towel against to act as buffer for the spare heat while the Emperor held you upright. Once dry your courting braid was added again with ribbon and bell intact to match the gentle tug free braid Thorin settled into your hair to keep it in place.

“Thank you,” you whispered in Thorin’s move to settle into your view again smiling at your relieved grin.

Kili however blurted out, “Weird dreams? You talk in your sleep.”

Fili smiled bursting with questions of his own to your weak chuckle, Thorin however scooped you in his arms again saying, “Back to bed, you can share there cozy in bed.”

Around you the group nestled you back in your former place with towel removed from over your pillow stained by your hair added to your empty hamper while covers settled around your waist and Sir Akdâmuthrab clambered over post stretch to plop down on your lap to sleep there instead of far below your feet. By now Dis, Vili, Dwalin and Balin had come to check on you and settled onto the end of your bed having come to check on you to send for your first meal of the day before the Doctors would arrive.

“So, I met Durin,” you started and in the growing group of their kin while the triplets continued to nap against your legs having been set down by their parents having scooted closer to grant more room for others to hear everything.

Kili, “How’d you get there?”

“I, don’t know. I never land in the same place when I go there, but this was the first time I woke up there. I think they thought I was dead. Must have,”

Vili asked, “Have you met Mahal?”

“I don’t know, I know Meldamalta is Tulkas, Manwe is obvious shroud in feathers, the others I am not certain. I might have, there are a few who look similar to etchings I’ve seen on display here, then there are others who are more, not feelings, that’s not the word…”

Dis said, “Un-bodied ones?”

That you nodded to, “Even Meldamalta’s son at times chooses to present out of his body. Mahal’s Halls none of your kin were like that, I think it was just the Elven lands. Even Celebrimbor held our lessons out of himself before as well. He might have been there, sorry to disappoint.”

Thorin’s hand laid on yours, “Oh no, no disappointment at all. Only few of our kin have returned from those halls, each tale is treasured.”

Gloin asked, “Would you mind us calling uncle Nain? Letting him know about his grandfather meeting you?”

“No, is he in the clan by blood or marriage, I didn’t know.”

Thorin smiled again as Frerin answered, “His Amad is of our line, but Firebeards and Longbeards have always been close.”

Your eyes drifted to Dis, “Celeste seemed happy hearing I chose her ring. And the keeper of yours told me to tell you,” for a moment your brows furrowed in repeating the mouthful of words slowly, “Mire the Spring?”

Dis smiled to Vili who explained, “A joke on how my Spring proposal was as troubled as hers had been.”

She patted her hand on your legs, “A good sign, thank you for the message.”

Through them a tray was brought in to rest on top of your lap for the meal the rest of the clan shared their plans for the day to help settle things of their own charge throughout the kingdom to aid in the recovery of the populace from this stunning attack while those in other kingdoms were doing the same. Doctors did follow after and with a sigh you settled into bed as Thorin was off to his own rooms for a private second inspection of his own wounds and warm bath to freshen up before his few tasks of the morning between him and his evening in with you.

Pt 22

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

#Path Of Dreams #Ollore Malle #Valar #Durin the Deathless #Celeste #Dain's Family #Lost Loves #Afterlife #Halls of Mahal #Gardens of Tulkas #Meldamalta #Back Again #Pass on Messages #Tend to the Hair #Back to Bed #Thorin x Reader OC #Vili x Dis

16 notes · View notes

priestess-of-the-north-west · 3 years

Text

The cloud

I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers, Lightning my pilot sits; In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, It struggles and howls at fits; Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, The Spirit he loves remains; And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains. The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, When the morning star shines dead; As on the jag of a mountain crag, Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardors of rest and of love, And the crimson pall of eve may fall From the depth of Heaven above, With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest, As still as a brooding dove. That orbèd maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the Moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, Are each paved with the moon and these. I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, Over a torrent sea, Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, While the moist Earth was laughing below. I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.

- by Percy Bysshe Shelley ca. 1819

#poetry #cloud #shelley #19th century

3 notes · View notes

lina-kim-is-here · 4 years

Text

Hogwarts

Hogwarts wakes up with Professor Sprout. Even before the first ray of sun can reach her precious wards she is up and hobbling though the halls of the still sleeping castle. By her gentle humming the portraits arise from slumber, yawning and stretching each other over the magical canvases and mumbling a lazy morning greeting. Like a cat rousing from nightly rest the ancient building croaks and with a rumble of distaste moves and bends her stony stairs to the professor’s will and way. By the time the witch has entered her Green houses the sun has finally surpassed the surrounding hills and the first light of day illuminates the halls and glistens on the lake. Flowers of the night mimic their farewell for the day and roll up while roots and petals and blooms of the day uncurl and rise and glow in the light of the morning. In their beds students and professors alike are stirring and like the mother she is Hogwarts sends her little helpers to tend to fires and the clattering and chatting of house elves soon fills the hidden kitchen. A new day is here.

Professor McGonagall brings Hogwarts a joyful break around noon. On silent paws she moves though the empty classrooms now that all the students are at the great hall for lunch. With the Curiosity of a child the eyes of the castle follow the cat around the halls and stairs even though they never manage to catch her entirely. Like a game of hide and seek the Head of the brave house disappears from sight to find some peace within the castle herself. And like the old stony rooms and halls she finds her joy in a quiet, sunny place far off the buzzing crowd. But only until eventually the scent of a hundred promises and mysteries manage to lure her back into the hallways. Up the stairs and down the tunnels. Through trap doors and over beams and bridges. After all, there is always something new and bright to discover.

The afternoon brings a new kind of solemn and steady thrum to the castle. With a lofty breeze flying in from the West the curtains of Professor Flitwick’s office are billowing around his room - though not disturbing the tiny man who is pouring over books as old as time and long as merlin’s beard. With the sun now steadily setting the rose and golden glow is dancing over vanishing letters and forgotten words. But like the stories in the books Hogwarts prevails and stands her ground like the beaming beacon of powerful knowledge and wisdom that was written about and fought for all those centuries ago. A soft knock on the door lets the professor twirl around and he too is reminded to join his fellow witches and warlocks at the dining table. And as the castle watches over her many proteges she prepares for the night.

With even the last student in bed Hogwarts breathes out. The soft glow of the moon flows over her walls and stairs and through rooms and halls like liquid silver. Just deep within the most secure part in the heart of it all a lonely man creates love in cauldrons and slow and painful death in vials. He procures dreams as soft and loving as a summer’s kiss and puts them next to the bottle of luck that would get a drunken fool past an enraged dragon safely. And whilst he creates hope for the darkest part of the night in a pot the castle keeps watch. Like the warden of hearth and home she stands tall as she had learned oh so long ago from the proudest of her four founders. And when Professor Snape corks the last of his bottles the flickering lights of the stony lady guide him to bed as well. And if the last ingredient of his hope in a flask was his tears, who is she to say?

126 notes · View notes

grifalinas · 4 years

Text

The Story of Snow White (or, the beginning of many adventures)

The first queen was beautiful. That was all that was ever said of her.

The king married her when she was young, won her hand over many other suitors by besting her father in a contest of wits, and she was sweet and gentle and kind and loved among the people of the kingdom, and she was beautiful, and nothing else was ever said of her.

A year of their marriage passed with no issue, and then two, and then five, and then ten: finally, in the thirteenth year of their marriage the queen brought a daughter into the world. The daughter was pale, and frail, and not expected to live past her first year, and when she survived- not just survived, but grew strong- whispers began that she was a fairy child, and the fairies would take her back in time.

The first queen died. Ah, but you already knew that, didn’t you? She couldn’t be the first queen if there were no second queen as well.

The king remarried, as widowers are wont to do, and his second queen was just as beautiful as his first, or perhaps moreso, or less so: beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the beholder has the object permanence of a toddler with a shiny ring of keys and a stack of colorful blocks.

The king died. There is not much that can be said in that regard.

The new queen now ruled in his place, and would rule until her stepdaughter grew old enough to inherit the throne and take the crown, and perhaps she can be forgiven for growing bitter about this, or perhaps she cannot. Whatever her feelings, and however justified we consider them, this doesn’t change the fact that she chose a very murdery way to address them, which brings us to where our story really, truly begins.

-/-

It had been several days since Bryory had taken the girl and run. He’d lost count, honestly. How many days, exactly, had they tramped through these woods?

Bryory was fine. He knew how to survive in the woods, and knew not to hunt within the Wood; he foraged for their food instead, and was careful not to cut away a path for them, instead finding the natural trails that grew in a wood.

But Snow…

“Bryory, I am tired,” she said, coming to a halt and sinking down to perch delicately on a broad tree root. “It has been days. Where are we going? When will we stop?”

“I am very sorry, Princess.” Bryory knelt before her, taking his hand in his own in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I wish it were not necessary, but when your stepmother the queen learns of my deception I don’t want to be anywhere that she can find us.”

Snow made a noise like a sob and hung her head. “Where can we go that she won’t find us?”

“I don’t know, Princess,” he admitted. He cupped her chin in his hands and brushed away the tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry. I wish things were different.”

“My stepmother was going to try ridding herself of me eventually,” Snow murmured, hanging her head again. “As long as I’m around her rule has an expiration date.” She sighed, and finally stood. “We should go. It will be dark soon. We’ll need to find somewhere to shelter.”

“As you like, Princess.”

-/-

Another two days. Bryory was growing as weary as Snow; the Wood was feeling more and more like a labyrinth that he would never find his way through. How big was the Wood?

Bryory had seen a map of the world once, had seen the kingdoms that surrounded the Wood and shared its borders. The Wood on the map had not seemed that big at all, but it had been much bigger than the tiny kingdoms surrounding it. He might easily never find the other side. Might easily grow lost.

It was growing dark around them. Bryory stopped where he stood- this was as good a place to stop for the night as anywhere. He shed his cloak and lay it on the ground at the base of a tree so Snow could have a place to sleep that was at least not directly on the ground. He didn’t mind sleeping on the ground, but Snow was…

Well, she was a princess. She did not have the constitution that Bryory did.

While Snow slept, Bryory kept watch, dozing but not quite sleeping against the tree they’d chosen as their camp. He needed to do something soon to break this cycle; Snow was too worn out to go much farther, and he did not feel entirely safe within the Wood to make a longer term camp for them to rest. Who knew what dangers waited in the Wood? Just because they’d been safe so far…

As his thoughts threatened to carry him into deeper sleep, he was jarred awake entirely by a light moving past them. He sat up straighter, looking for the source of the light, and decided immediately he must be dreaming, because what he saw was a hare: but not a hare as the ones he had hunted outside of the Wood. This hare had leaves and flowers trailing from its fur, and golden light in its ears.

It loped through the little camp, sniffing the air, sniffing the ground, sniffing Snow- Bryory’s hand went to his hatchet, but made no move to draw it. He wouldn’t unless the hare proved a threat to the girl.

The hare did not seem interested in more than just inspecting their camp, though, and after sniffing Snow a bit it moved on to Bryory.

This task done, it moved several feet away and then stood on its hind legs, staring straight at Bryory with eyes as black as the blackest night. Bryory found himself wondering if the stars he saw in the hare’s eyes were mere reflections of the sky above, or if the hare carried the night sky in its gaze.

After a long staring contest, the hare moved a few feet away and repeated the previous motion: standing on its hind legs, staring at Bryory blankly.

He pulled himself to his feet without argument. If the Wood wanted to show him something- he moved after the hare, glancing at Snow behind him as he went. Hopefully this wasn’t a will-o-the-whisp, luring him away for wicked purposes.

-/-

Bryory followed the hare for a time that seemed to stretch into infinity- his going was slow, careful, picking is way across a ground lit by some faint light left by the hare. It stayed ever ahead of him, bounding forward to the edge of his vision before standing and watching him, waiting for him to catch up before bounding ahead again. It repeated this for… how long could it possibly be? Bryory began to feel that this was to be his life now, following this hare forever, and just as he began to think of going back, that perhaps this was a trick, he saw where the hare was leading him.

The Wood was not cultivated land; while Bryory was aware that sometimes people made their homes within its borders, no kingdom had ever managed to take hold in the same way.

So it was very strange to find a castle, even a small, derelict castle, nestled in the middle of a lake, here within the boundaries of the Wood.

But the hare was sitting on the bridge that led to it. Bryory wondered what a fool he was being, and followed.

-/-

When Snow woke that morning, Bryory was gone. She had just enough time to register this, to try to quell the panic rising in her, before he returned. She let out a long, slow breath.

“My apologies, princess,” he said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I thought you’d abandoned me.”

“Never!” He knelt before her, a hand over his heart. “Princess, I have pledged myself your guardian, from here until you dismiss me. I will not abandon you.”

“All right…”

Rather than answer, he held out a hand to her. “Come, Princess. I’ve found us a place to shelter long-term. We’ll be safe there while we decide what we’re going to do next.”

Snow’s feet were aching. She climbed to them anyway, and followed Bryory into the Wood.

Again.

-/-

They reached the castle around noon, and Snow found herself wondering how long Bryory had been walking in the night to have found the castle and made it back to her. He must be exhausted, and as she looked closer at his movements she could see that he was. His steps were stumbling and uneasy, and his eyes hung heavy.

Her expression fell at the sight. He had been pushing so hard to take care of her these past days, and was still pushing himself still harder. As exhausted as she was, she knew he needed sleep more.

“The castle is too derelict to be used in its entirety, but we can clear out one or two rooms for our use while we-”

He broke off, swaying in place. Snow was at his side in a moment, holding him steady while she guided his steps over to a comfortable looking spot in the overgrown courtyard.

“You’re dead on your feet,” she said. “You’ve found us a place, now rest.”

“Gotta find food,” he mumbled, but already he was nodding. Snow lay her hand on his cheek.

“You rest. Food can wait.”

“As you like, Princess,” he said, and then consciousness had left him entirely.

-/-

At first, Snow was content to merely explore the most immediately accessible parts of the castle. It was not as derelict as it had seemed at first glance: more overgrown than collapsing. Snow tried to pull away some of the vines that blocked the doors leading off of the courtyard and into the castle, but they held firm and cut into her hands, and she was forced to stop.

Without that to occupy her, she came over to sit before Bryory, watching over the slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept, just as he had watched over her throughout their long trek from their kingdom to here.

Though she didn’t know what she would do if anything tried to harm them while he slept. What good would she be?

What good was she at all for that matter? A delicate princess, kept from any strain throughout her life- she’d always thought herself hardy, but even the first day in the Wood had tested her limits.

She was of no use to anyone, least of all Bryory, she knew.

Well, there was something she could do. She knew how to gather berries as well as anyone, she supposed, and she knew that they grew well on a lakeside. She could gather food for them, could have it waiting for Bryory when he woke.

She could be useful.

A quick rummage around the courtyard turned up a well, near the door she imagined must lead down to the kitchens. Like everything else, the well was overgrown, and the handle would not turn, but after enough heaving and hoisting, after rubbing her hands raw and raw again on the rope, she was able to pull the pail loose. The rope, good fortune, was brittle enough from time that she was easily able to saw through it with a knife stolen from Bryory’s belt, and now she had a pail. She could collect some berries, and when Bryory woke he would see that she could Do, and he would be able to rest instead of carrying both of their burdens himself.

The knife she attached to her own belt. She was no fool.

-/-

Snow had not spent a great deal of her life cultivating Useful skills, but she had been foraging with other children same as anyone. She knew how to pick berries, and Bryory had told her how to identify a few edible plants over the past few days. And if she stayed near the lakeshore, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting lost.

Unfortunately, Snow struggled to find anything edible beside the lakeshore. After stumbling along for- well, awhile; she had no idea how long, but the sun moved across the sky as she did, so it must be awhile- after stumbling along for awhile, she stopped short at the sight of a fox standing on the bank.

She froze. Even from over here, she could see that the fox was not like any fox that should exist. Moss grew from its gray fur and white light shone from its ears, and in its eyes Snow saw the heights of the heavens above.

While she watched, the fox moved closer, then darted into the wood. She thought it had tried to escape, but it appeared again a second or so later, watching her expectantly.

So she followed it. Where the fox put its paws, mushrooms sprouted, creating a path for Snow to pick her way along, and in seeming no time at all, she found the fox had vanished, and the path it laid for her stopped under an apple tree.

Apples! How glorious! They were pinky-yellow, perfectly ripe, and the tree was so laden with them that the branches hung down to within her reach easily. Snow plucked one and bit into it immediately, nearly weeping with joy at the sweet juice that dribbled free. When she’d finished that one, she ate a second, and then began filling her pail with apples. Bryory would be so proud of her!

Once Snow had plucked enough apples that the pail began to feel heavy, she stopped, but the pail was only halfway filled, and she wanted to take home enough that Bryory would not have to seek food at all today and perhaps tomorrow.

It seemed fortune smiled on Snow, or rather the forest: at the base of the apple tree grew several green plants that Bryory had assured her were safe to eat, and an inspection of the mushrooms left by the fox proved them to be safe as well, at least as well as Snow could tell.

Snow could have wept at the realization, and hurried to gather the mushrooms from the ground as she followed them back to the lake, always taking care to leave behind one from each cluster so that she could lead Bryory back to this place later.

-/-

Bryory was still asleep when Snow returned to the castle, so, still wishing to be Useful, she laid the apples, the greens, and the mushrooms out very carefully before taking her pail out to the lake and filling it with water.

As she was filling the pail, though, a large frog swam into the bucket.

“Oh dear,” Snow said, because she didn’t like frogs very much, and rummaged around for a stick so she could prod the frog out of the bucket without having to actually come near it to dump it out.

As soon as she laid hands on a stick, though, the frog spoke to her.

“You don’t want to go drinking water from this part of the lake,” he said, and he said it so politely that Snow briefly forgot that she didn’t really like frogs very much.

“Why not?”

“The water here is partially trapped, and is very still and gentle. My people bear our young in this part of the lake, as do many bugs. If you take the water from here, you could end up drinking our young without realizing.”

“Oh! I didn’t know.”

Snow didn’t want to go drinking anyone’s young, so she carefully tipped the bucket back into the pool, once the frog got out of it of course. He was very polite, but she still didn’t want to go touching him.

“If you follow me, I’ll show you where to gather water from.”

And with that the frog hopped away, across the bridge and into the forest. Without a thought Snow grabbed up her pail and hurried after him.

-/-

In the castle, Bryory woke to find himself alone. At first he thought perhaps Snow had gone to explore the castle, but when he called for her and got no answer, panic rose inside of him. Had she been taken? Had harm fallen to her while he slept, unable to protect her?

And then he saw the food she had lain out, and stopped short.

Had she… gone to forage for food while he slept?

The panic inside of him stilled, but not by much, because she was still on her own in the Enchanted Wood, far away from his ability to protect her. So he took up his axe and left the castle-

-and as he passed through the door he saw Snow returning, carrying a pail of water that she was clearly struggling to hold, a frog perched on her shoulder.

Reader, he nearly wept.

And then he hurried to her side and retrieved the pail before she could drop it.

“Bryory!” she exclaimed when she saw him. “Did you sleep well? Are you feeling more rested? I brought us some food, and I found a spring of very clear water- well, Sir Frog showed me where it was, I didn’t really find it, but I brought the water back on my own, and I can show you where it is-”

She looked so proud of herself! Bryory gave her a weak smile.

“Thank you,” he said. “You did very well.”

The praise lit her like a beacon, and he rested his free hand around her shoulder to return to the castle.

“I’m going to be Useful,” she said determinedly. “I am going to learn to work with my hands, and to carry water and gather food and guide my own feet through the Wood, so I won’t be a burden on you any longer.”

“A burden? Oh, princess, it is no burden to care for you.”

She just hummed quietly and leaned into his side.

“As you like, Bryory.”

-/-

#fairy tales interrupted

23 notes · View notes

mountainpoem · 3 years

Text

The Cloud by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers, Lightning my pilot sits; In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, It struggles and howls at fits; Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, The Spirit he loves remains; And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains. The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, When the morning star shines dead; As on the jag of a mountain crag, Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardours of rest and of love, And the crimson pall of eve may fall From the depth of Heaven above, With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest, As still as a brooding dove. That orbèd maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the Moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, Are each paved with the moon and these. I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, Over a torrent sea, Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the Powers of air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, While the moist Earth was laughing below. I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.

#the cloud #percy bysshe shelley #poem #poetry #beauty #perfection #love #shivers

5 notes · View notes

the-fae-folk · 4 years

Text

Story Masterpost

Hey! This took a while to make. But here, as promised, is my story masterpost. I’ve organized some things so you can find them easier, though I’ll admit that “Beauty, Secrets, and Magic” is just the stuff I couldn’t really sort into a smaller category. Of the Fae Unaware Directions Come Running Water Distant Wars Wishes of the Sea In Order To See You Must... An Offer Those who say... Respect is Due An Exchange Cage Come to Us Ancient Wars The Age of Iron What are you? Immortal Hidden Among You First Music The Distant Days Count them with Letters Flower Wars Eyes? The Lost Ones We Fade Believing in Death Prices to pay Dance with the whole World Dreaming Lure *Click* Giants Asleep Fears of Darkness Bigger Problems Listen to the Giants Sweet Faerie Wine The Largest and Tiniest Decay and Dreaming Eyes and Earth Walking Mountains Battle Standard Gnaall Fictitious Dichotomy Faltering Heartbeats Among You Pixie Wings Unable to Perish Bridge trolls What is Fairy Ring? Terrible Wars Beautiful Dreams Kisses in the Night The Will of Trees Make no Mistake Have you Eaten? Beauty and Fashion Can you Calculate the Mind of the Fae The First Skies Do Fae Children Age at the Same Rate? A Dark Memory Black Dwarfs and Dark Futures The Conversation Vows of Love Ship of the Skies Reaching Hands The Little Folk The Prophet of Silvamune Damhán Alla Feasting Lost in the Deep Woods A way out? Faerie Dance Thrice Said is True Fools rush in The Deep Woods Welcome to the Deep Woods Places We Know Silence No Journey Will-o-the-Wisp Where are the Deep Woods? A Dreaming Memory Running Who Knows the Path? Unknown Footsteps Who Speaks? Go Home Whispers in the Mist Mossy Glades Old Gate An Echo of Footsteps Follow Me Tragic Ending The Way Forward is Still Barred Don’t Follow the Wisps Postern Never Know Waterfall When you Go Out Gold-Eyed Beast The Nightmare Step Lightly Bones Alone Golden Eyed Beast In Hiding Forget what comes Something Powerful Standstill Death Beware the Beast The Encounter Companion in the Cold Slumbering The Hunt Begins Again Well of Dreaming Light Screams in the Night Where is the Gold-Eyed Beast? Fear Something has Changed …3 …2 …1 The Crown of Shadow 7 Broken Mirrors Seven Seven Shattered Mirrors Places of Faerie A Faraway Place You The Places Between Distant Wars Buried beneath the Sand Wandering Blind The Lake A Flowered Ocean Exist? Or Not? Life’s Flow Door without a way Time Never Passes Here Only the Stories Remain Cracking Ice Fractal Prison Enough? All that remains is Dust Devastation of Dark Fire More of the Flowered Ocean Cliffs of Illithia and the Naiuruin Forests Beware the Wisps Stardew Deep Furnace Lanterns Lanterns On the River’s Edge The White Hound Do the Fae have Animals? An Old Lantern Lost Letters The Lament Fragment Silent Screams The Wait Together A Near Forgotten Letter Letter from a Brownie Tell a Story Lured Away From the Sea and Shore Warnings Never Free Don’t Stop Eat Not The Rule of Names Defiance Pretend Not To See Swamp Water Trust Me Do not Take Do Not I Seek A Warning

8 Tales at the Hearth’s Edge The Hill A tale of Three Gifts She and He A Chance Meeting The War (Coincidence?) The Girl and the Road Silver Charity A Tale of Autumn Strange Beings The One Who Grieves The Lady The Librarians Not Quite Human Dark Eyed Forge Fires Together the Light She danced upon the Earth Crows for Eyes Wings Aeon Circling A Laughing God Sssssss... Broken Tomb She danced in the Snow The Dragon in the Well What Became of Her... The Prisoner in the Dark She Knows Adventure A Firebird Imprisoned The Child Mine Spoken Before The Descent The Courts of Season The Autumn Days Great Sorrow In the darkest days of Winter The Winter Remains Awakening of Spring End of Summer Wine and Summertime Blustering Winds The Lord of Autumn The Winter Queen Frost The Autumn Court Winter Masque A Cold Truth The Winter Court Nearly Time The End of Winter The Lord of Springtime The Court of Spring Spring’s Song Lovers of Springtime Light after the Rain The Time you Need The Story of the One Who Grieves Nobody Answered ... It Comes Closer Before the Silver Blossoms A West Wind It is Time The End of Spring Other Courts A Courtly Vision A Constellation of Myth Court of Ashes Hosts of Myrkvatn Aiolion Tribes Court of Dawn Castle inside a Raindrop Order The Rivers of Athu The Sidhe The Valley of Ga’Maldor Empire of the Seven Blossoms Canyons of Mür ‘gra Crowns Long Ago Legends Key to Destiny The Second Key The Third Key Three KEYS? About the Cave Crown of Sunlight New Moon Summer’s End What do the Crowns look like? Court of Shadows Autumn to Winter Songs Seek Listen Unknown Follow A Dark Call Burning / Why is it burning? Forgotten Prisoner Chains Come to the Faeries Thorns and Dreaming I Dreamed I Walked Fernweh Stories Told Poetry Bluest Sky Blue Red Yellow Orange Loving Winter Fire and Bone Requiem of a Love Song Eye See You Green Sleep among the Bluebells Song of Stars Night Companion Dancing in the Forest Moon Waters Memory in Sepia Lilies Scream. Cry. Silence. Drifting Faerie Ring Count Them Carefully Fairy Ring Dance Other Tales The Pied Piper Apples for Eternity The Dam Is anyone there? Call to the Sea Warmth Midas Grove of Shadows Resting Place All Hallows Evening Tale The Great Tree Sister of Mine Wit and Words Bread and Circuses Forest and Sea in Sorrow Reflection of the Heart Part 1 The Boy, The Troll, and the Bridge Between Them. The Raven and the Stone Crow Houses and Homes Beauty, Secrets, and Magic Seed Rain Brings Life Such Dreams If Wishes The Ancient Magic Beginning or Ending? Dive Into Silent Unknowns Eternity Like Leaves Imagine you walk across the sand Power of the Moonlight Enchanted Trap Rage Confusion Gifts of Stone Longing for Other Selves Darkened Waves Hunt of the Owl Not You Forgotten. Fairy Tales Curse Ravens Come Look Sun Stars Autumn Reflections Drift Gold beneath Grey Union Incomparable Names Life’s Road Fire in the Heart A sort of Balance Beauty of a Rose Not what they seem Glamour Humanity’s Treasures Compliments Infinity Why must you reject happiness? A Sounding of Silence Winds of Change The Blessing of Indifference In Tears we Grow Beauty A Raindrop The Trouble With Masks Lunar Eclipse Fly Ahead Be Ready Ugliness and Beauty The Secret of Bridges Morning? Wasting Time Widdershins Equilibrium Snail at Home Is it enough? Seven Poisons A Nexus of Roads Silence with us In the Face of Silence Cycle of Burning A Sky full of Joy Cloistered Grove Choices Fly Butterfly Fly Blooming in Adversity Distant Endless Moors Sweet Berries A Dreaming Once Met Seas of Black Sky Heaven’s Peaks Together upon the Road Written in the Stars Stolen Wishes Anew Blooming to the Music Sing A New World Song of Stone Love is... Water to the Soul Eyes will Watch Sometimes its nice Explore Change in the Air Drowning in the Dark The Song Plays On Furnace of Creation A Gemstone Found Upon A Hill Have you? Sometimes the Tree Dies Hold my hand A Simple Magic Of Course New Fallen Snow Seedlings Sleeping Wheel Still Sleeping Snowdrops Enjoy the Spring Cloying Beauty Soft Silence Mystery of the Rose Just Be When We were Here Last Ship Swift River Broken Painful Awakenings The Story of a Butterfly Such Beauty Play On Strawberry Mother and Child Strange Places Beyond Black Suns The Shallow Sea A Foundation of Nothing Awake in the Darkness Endless Darkness Absolutus Infinitus Twilight to Dawn The Burning Light Ruins, Somewhere Quotes from the Writer Alpha Beta Gamma Delta Epsilon Zeta Eta Theta Iota Kappa Lambda Mu Nu Xi Omicron The Journey The Lonely Tree Consider the Stars First City Only the Future Left What makes a Monster? A Secret Place Not Far Off

87 notes · View notes

raleigh-in-the-garden · 10 months

Text

1 note · View note

mastergaragedoorngates · 4 years

Text

Questions To Ask Your Garage Door Repair Company

People get repair services to take care of problems with their garage doors because they don't have the skill, time and patience to repair them on their own. However, while it is more convenient to delegate the work to a professional, there is no reason why you should be careless when it comes to looking for a service provider. You should not hire just anybody to do the job, you must research on the company you have in mind.

While it's understandable that you might be busy, or don't know much about garage door repairs, you should make the most out of your first meeting with your potential service providers to ask some key questions. If you feel lost about what to ask, here are some questions you can use.

Are You Insured? Repair companies should be certified, bonded and insured. By certified, this means that a company has the permit to offer garage door repair services in a certain area. This also means that they have the skills and knowledge to properly process problems that are related to garage doors. If a company is insured and bonded, it gives you peace of mind because should anything go wrong, you will be properly compensated for it.

How Much Do You Charge? It's not wrong to discuss services charges and other fees upfront, because that is the biggest concern you have. Some companies will ask you regarding problems with your doors while others offer free inspection of the garage itself. Make sure you ask about everything when it comes to fees. Some fly-by-night companies will lure you with low prices, yet later on you'll find yourself drowning in labor fees and hidden charges.

Do You Follow Through On Your Jobs? Some companies consider the job done when they finish up and drive away from your house. However, there are times when a repair job is not a hundred percent perfect, usually because of negligence on a technician's part. Make sure to get a company that offers free follow-up service in case something wrong happens immediately after the repair.

Are You Available 24/7? Most companies stop taking in customers after work hours, but there are also companies who go the extra mile and offer 24 hour service. If you go home late at night, or are usually in a hurry, it's better to go with a company that's just a phone call away.

Find Garage door repair long island:

Garage door repair long island

Garage door repair north babylon

Garage door repair west babylon ny

Garage door repair kings park ny

Garage door repair smithtown ny

Garage door repair necosent ny

Garage door repair lake grove ny

Garage door repair farmingdale ny

Garage door repair farmingvill ny

Garage door repair holbrook ny

Garage door repair bohemia ny

Garage door repair stony brook ny

Garage door repair west islip ny

Garage door repair deer park ny

Garage door repair long island ny

Garage door repair nassau county ny

Garage door repair suffolk county ny

Garage door repair middle island ny

Garage door repair yaphank ny

Garage door repair medford ny

Garage door repair bellport ny

Garage door repair brookheaven ny

Garage door repair patchouge ny

Garage door repair coram ny

Garage door repair miller place ny

Garage door repair ridge ny

Garage door repair mastic ny

Garage door repair shirley ny

Garage door repair mastic beach ny

Garage door repair eastport ny

Garage door repair east moriches ny

Garage door repair manorville ny

Garage door repair bayport ny

Garage door repair blue point ny

Garage door repair sayville ny

Garage door repair west sayville ny

Garage door repair oakdale ny

Garage door repair islip terrace ny

Garage door repair islandia ny

Garage door repair hauppauge ny

Garage door repair nesconset ny

Garage door repair old field ny

Garage door repair port jefferson station ny

Garage door repair mount sinai ny

Garage door repair sound beach ny

Garage door repair rocky point ny

Garage door repair shoreham ny

Garage door repair wading river ny

Garage door repair calverton ny

Garage door repair riverhead ny

Garage door repair pine valley ny

Garage door repair westhampton ny

Garage door repair plainview ny

Garage door repair levittown ny

Garage door repair bellmore ny

Garage door repair garden city ny

Garage door repair rockville centre ny

Garage door repair valley stream ny

Garage door repair oceanside ny

Garage door repair great neck ny

Garage door repair hewlett ny

Garage door repair roslyn ny

Garage door repair locust valley ny

Garage door repair greenvale ny

Garage door repair glen cove ny

Garage door repair oyster bay ny

Garage door repair huntington station ny

Garage door repair huntington ny

Garage door repair dix hills ny

Garage door repair bay shore ny

Garage door repair north babylon ny

Garage door repair lindenhurst ny

Garage door repair massapequa ny

Garage door repair wantagh ny

Garage door repair merrick ny

Garage door repair hempstead ny

Garage door repair amityville ny

Garage door repair bethpage ny

Garage door repair new hyde park ny

Garage door repair mineola ny

Garage door repair elmont ny

Garage door repair carle place ny

Garage door repair glen oaks ny

Garage door repair manhasset ny

Garage door repair old westbury ny

Garage door repair syosset ny

Garage door repair jericho ny

Garage door repair hicksville ny

Garage door repair seaford ny

Garage door repair melville ny

Garage door repair long beach ny

Garage door repair lawrence ny

Garage door repair woodmere ny

Garage door repair north bellmore ny

Garage door repair east meadow ny

Garage door repair atlantic beach ny

Garage door repair baxter estates ny

Garage door repair bayvill ny

Garage door repair bellerose ny

Garage door repair cedarhurst ny

Garage door repair centre island ny

Garage door repair cove neck ny

Garage door repair east hills ny

Garage door repair east rockaway ny

Garage door repair east williston ny

Garage door repair floral park ny

Garage door repair flower hill ny

Garage door repair island park ny

Garage door repair kensington ny

Garage door repair kings point ny

Garage door repair lake success ny

Garage door repair lattingtown ny

Garage door repair laurel hollow ny

Garage door repair lynbrook ny

Garage door repair malverne ny

Garage door repair manorhaven ny

Garage door repair matinecock ny

Garage door repair mill neck ny

Garage door repair muttontown ny

Garage door repair north hempstead ny

Garage door repair north hills ny

Garage door repair plandome heights ny

Garage door repair plandome manor ny

Garage door repair plandome ny

Garage door repair russell gardens ny

Garage door repair saddle rock ny

Garage door repair sands point ny

Garage door repair sea cliff ny

Garage door repair south floral park ny

Garage door repair thomaston ny

Garage door repair westbury ny

Garage door repair williston park ny

Garage door repair woodsburgh ny

Garage door repair Brooklyn

Garage door repair williamsburg brooklyn

Garage door repair park slope brooklyn

Garage door repair greenpoint brooklyn

Garage door repair bedford brooklyn

Garage door repair bushwick brooklyn

Garage door repair sheepshead bay brooklyn

Garage door repair boerum hill brooklyn

Garage door repair manhattan beach brooklyn

Garage door repair crown heights brooklyn

Garage door repair dumbo brooklyn

Garage door repair dyker heights bay ridge brooklyn

Garage door repair prospect heights brooklyn

Garage door repair queens

Garage door repair hollis queens

Garage door repair howard beach queens

Garage door repair whitestone queens

Garage door repair bayside queens

Garage door repair queens village queens

Garage door repair college point queens

Garage door repair richmond hill queens

Garage door repair middle village queens

Garage door repair ozone park queens

Garage door repair bellerose queens

Garage door repair rego park queens

Garage door repair woodheaven queens

Garage door repair woodside queens

Garage door repair sunnyside queens

Garage door repair forest hills queens

Garage door repair jamaica queens

Garage door repair jackson heights queens

Garage door repair maspeth queens

Garage door repair astoria queens

Garage door repair long island city queens

Garage door repair flushing queens

Garage door repair elmhurst queens

Garage door repair ridgewood queens

Garage door repair Bronx

Garage door repair south bronx

Garage door repair concourse village bronx

Garage door repair park of edgewater bronx

Garage door repair riverdale bronx

Garage door repair central riverdale bronx

Garage door repair norwood bronx

Garage door repair kingsbridge bronx

Garage door repair kingsbridge heights bronx

Garage door repair fordham bronx

Garage door repair fordham heights bronx

Garage door repair fordham manor bronx

Garage door repair belmont bronx

Garage door repair bedford park bronx

Garage door repair west bronx

Garage door repair east bronx

Garage door repair north bronx

Garage door repair westchester

Garage door repair ardsley

Garage door repair ardsley on hudson

Garage door repair armonk

Garage door repair baldwin place

Garage door repair banksville

Garage door repair bedford

Garage door repair bedford hills

Garage door repair bedford village

Garage door repair briarcliff manor

Garage door repair bronxville

Garage door repair buchanan

Garage door repair chappaqua

Garage door repair cortlandt

Garage door repair cortlandt manor

Garage door repair crompond

Garage door repair cross river

Garage door repair croton falls

Garage door repair croton on hudson

Garage door repair crugers

Garage door repair dobbs ferry

Garage door repair eastchester

Garage door repair elmsford

Garage door repair fleetwood

Garage door repair goldens bridge

Garage door repair granite springs

Garage door repair greenburah

Garage door repair hartsdale

Garage door repair hastings on hudson

Garage door repair hawthorne

Garage door repair irvington

Garage door repair jefferson valley

Garage door repair katonah

Garage door repair la rchmont

Garage door repair lewisboro

Garage door repair li ncolnda le

Garage door repair mamaroneck

Garage door repair maryknoll

Garage door repair millwood

Garage door repair mohegan lake

Garage door repair montrose

Garage door repair mount kisco

Garage door repair mount pleasant

Garage door repair mount vernon

Garage door repair new castle

Garage door repair new rochelle

Garage door repair north castle

Garage door repair north salem

Garage door repair north white plains

Garage door repair ossining

Garage door repair peekskill

Garage door repair pelham

Garage door repair pelham manor

Garage door repair pocantico hills

Garage door repair port chester

Garage door repair pound ridge

Garage door repair purchase

Garage door repair purdys

Garage door repair rye

Garage door repair rye brook

Garage door repair scarborough

Garage door repair scarsdale

Garage door repair scotts corners

Garage door repair shenorock

Garage door repair shrub oak

Garage door repair somers

Garage door repair south salem

Garage door repair tarrytown

Garage door repair thornwood

Garage door repair tuckahoe

Garage door repair valhalla

Garage door repair waccabuc

Garage door repair west harrison

Garage door repair white plains

Garage door repair yonkers

Garage door repair yorktown

Garage door repair yorktown heights

#garage door #garagedoor #garagedoorrepair #GarageDoorRepairServices

1 note · View note

alexllove-blog · 5 years

Photo

Lit by early-morning sunshine, the country lane ahead of me is enchanting.

One side is hedge, sweetly fragrant with white hawthorn blossom, and the other, old dry-stone wall, covered in emerald moss, moist and springy to the touch. Every now and then a wren darts in and out of the wall, looking for the perfect space to nest-build. On the ground, life is also starting to fizz. Fresh, tender shoots are emerging. The broad dark-green leaves of foxgloves spread themselves out and a pair of golden brimstone butterflies flutter around the mauve petals of common dog violets.

A misty valley in Borrowdale in the Lake District National Park

I stop for a moment and take a slow, deep breath –thankful to be back in Lake District National Park in North West England. It’s not just me that finds these landscapes so irresistible. Just over 114 kilometres from the thriving metropolis of Manchester, Lake District National Park, at around 2,362km2, is England’s largest, and more than 19 million people from all the over globe visit it annually. Just like me, visitors here are thrilled not just by the region’s spectacular scenery, but also by the rare creatures that live in its ancient oakwoods and the birds of prey that majestically soar the skies.

At springtime, the Lakes – as the area is better known – are especially magical, but it’s a place that beguiles at any time of the year. The otherworldly beauty of its windswept mountaintops, dramatic valleys criss-crossed with idyllic country lanes, sparkling waterfalls and deep, clear lakes often haunts me long after I return home.

Path from Stonethwaite to Rosthwaite

But of all the region’s valleys, it’s Borrowdale that casts the strongest spell on me. The picturesque area, which is situated in the green heart of the Lake District, is a haven for some of Britain’s most endangered flora and fauna. It’s where I am now, and the country lane I’m passing through is in the small village of Rosthwaite, some nine kilometres south of Keswick, the valley’s main town. This is the start of one of my favourite walks, which will take me through a myriad of arresting landscapes, from craggy fells to wild moors, from mountain tarns to oakwoods and, finally, from river valley to lakeshore. It’s a beautiful microcosm of all that the Lake District has to offer.

Borrowdale has thrilled me since childhood. A huge, wild, living playground, it was the perfect antidote to the grey shades and straight lines of school and suburbia. With my parents, brother and sister – as well as our dogs, a young and exuberant Irish wolfhound and a sensible, much older border collie – many happy summer days were spent here. In the meadows, we searched for daisies, buttercups and forget-me-nots for my flower press. And, in the woods, with socks and shoes off , we chased each other around huge oak trees, picking up acorns, throwing them for the dogs to catch, always saving a few to play wonky marbles with later. Then we’d find a clear stream to cool down and clean our hot little feet before starting our adventures all over again.

A ram near Watendlath

Of course, some four decades on since playing in the woods here, it’s sturdy boots, rather than bare feet, for me on my walk today. Now reaching the end of the lane, the view opens out and my climb up Great Crag, a steep fell-side, begins. The colours are different here – less verdant, more of an autumnal palette of faded-purple heather, burnt-brown bracken and grey rocky knolls. The colour of storm clouds. Now, some 200 metres above sea level, I turn around and marvel at the classic Lakes view. The valley floor – which in the summer months is ablaze with wildflowers – is strikingly green, intersected by the shimmer of the River Derwent that snakes through Borrowdale like a silver ribbon.

Turning back towards Great Crag, I follow the bridleway until a large whitewashed farmhouse and a small cluster of stone cottages come into view. This is the secluded picturesque hamlet of Watendlath that nestles on the shores of the tarn here. Apart from a mewing buzzard above me, enjoying the warm thermals, and a gaggle of honking barnacle geese, it’s incredibly quiet.

A blackbird on a wall near Stonethwaite

I take the path around the water’s edge, passing a flock of free-roaming sheep. Huge moss-covered oaks, with branches outstretched like arms and twigs pointing like fingers, cast their shadows. As the terrain turns to moorland, damp and peaty in places, I spy the yellow-green heads of bog myrtle popping above the scrub.

I scan the sky, hoping for a sight of another buzzard or maybe a falcon. It is empty. If I’d been standing here three or four years ago, though, I might have seen England’s last golden eagle, known as Eddie, filling the void. Up until the early 1800s, golden eagles – Britain’s second-largest bird of prey with a wingspan of around 1.8 metres – were numerous in the Lakes. But regarded as a threat to new-born lambs, the birds’ eyries (nests) were systemically destroyed by local sheep farmers – causing such a catastrophic decline in their numbers that golden eagles became locally extinct by the 1850s.

A pair of keen ramblers taking in the scenery

Since then, only very occasional pairs have settled in the Lakes. The last known couple were Eddie and his mate. He is believed to have died in 2016, some 12 years after the female. Fortunately, conservation measures have been put in place to encourage the return of these iconic birds. It’s hoped that chicks from successful populations in southern Scotland will be introduced here soon, turning the Lakes’ skies golden once again.

“Rare creatures live in its ancient oakwoods and birds of prey majestically soar the skies”

After two and half kilometres or so, I see Dock Tarn, one of the Lake District’s most beautiful mountain lakes. Circled by a small ring of tor-topped hills, covered in heather and bilberry, the tarn is aglow in the sunshine. On the surface, some yet-to-flower waterlilies shiver slightly as a light breeze brushes over them. Come high summer, orchids can be found among the grasses, and when the heather blooms, the tarn will reflect their hazy-purple hues, as if in perpetual twilight. It’s not just Dock Tarn that mesmerises. From here, I can also admire the summit of Glaramara and enjoy take-your-breath-away views of other mighty fells, including Haystacks, Honister and Pillar.

An arresting view of Derwentwater as seen from Catbells fell

The Lake District’s natural beauty has quickened people’s hearts for centuries. During the 1800s, some of England’s best-known Romantic poets and writers – including William and Dorothy Wordsworth, Samuel Coleridge, Thomas de Quincey and John Ruskin – were particularly enamoured. They celebrated the Lake District’s sublime beauty in their writings, often elevating the region to a heaven on earth, a wild Eden where man could achieve spiritual harmony with nature. William Wordsworth – probably the most famous Lakes poet, and author of the love song to the Lakes “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” – in his great autobiographical work The Prelude, published in 1850, described the region as a place where:

“The solid Mountains were as bright as clouds, Grain-tinctured, drench’d in empyrean light; And, in the meadows and the lower grounds, Was all the sweetness of a common dawn, Dews, vapours, and the melody of birds, And Labourers going forth into the fields.”

A bridge in Rydal

Turning away from the “bright as clouds” view of the summits, I trace a stone-pitched track to the hanging oakwood at Lingy End and begin my descent. The climb down through the ancient wood is steep, and I’m kept company by the babbling Willygrass Gill stream. Originating at Dock Tarn, it cascades gently down the valley, eventually joining the River Derwent. Shoots of pungent wild garlic sprout between rocks and stones, joined by butter-yellow, star-shaped celandine flowers.

“A wonderland I first visited as a girl, I am lured back to the Lake District year after year”

I scan the trees for red squirrels, an endangered native species. Thanks to special conservation programmes, Borrowdale’s woods are one of the best places in England to spot this rare and elusive creature. I also look out for red and roe deer, but as with the squirrels, I am out of luck. I do, though, sight a great spotted woodpecker drilling into a tree, its distinctive black, white and red markings glimmering softly in the dappled light.

A cottage in Stonethwaite

Borrowdale’s oakwoods are the remnants of the temperate “rainforests” that once flourished on the western seaboard of Britain. They are the precious last habitat of disappearing moss and liverwort species and support an incredible variety of ferns and fungi, as well as butterflies, moths and other insects. That’s why Borrowdale’s oakwoods – over 500 hectares, home to more than a hundred bird species – are afforded the highest tier of protection available to habitats in Europe.

After an hour or so, the steepness of the slope eases and I’m back on level ground in the village of Stonethwaite, just next door to Rosthwaite. The wide walled and pretty path here runs parallel to the River Derwent, considered one of the purest rivers in Europe. Freshwater shrimp, lamprey and salmon thrive in its protected waters – even sleek-haired otters, once locally extinct, are back and can sometimes be spotted on the riverbanks with freshly caught fish in their paws.

Two people fishing at a reservoir in Watendlath

Back at Rosthwaite, I jump on a bus and less than 10 minutes later find myself on the shores of Derwentwater, one of the Lake District’s fi nest glacial lakes. In the afternoon light, the water reflects the shape of the mountains that circle it. A swan glides by, heading towards Lord’s Island, one of the lake’s four main islands. Once inhabited by the Earls of Derwentwater, the island is now a desirable residence for nesting birds and primroses only. During the winter months, the secluded bays and headlands here provide shelter for many wildfowl, including greylag geese, mallards and moorhens.

The Queen of the Lakes, as Derwentwater is also known, is the only place in England – apart from Bassenthwaite Lake about 16 kilometres further north – where vendace, a rare Arctic fi sh species dating back to the Ice Age, survives. Bassenthwaite Lake is also the place to see the Lake District’s only ospreys. These spectacular birds of prey, with a wingspan of almost 1.5 metres, returned to breed in 2001, after an absence of almost 150 years, and during the summer months can be seen diving for fish in Bassenthwaite’s pristine waters.

A river scene in Rydal

Two years ago, in 2017, the Lake District National Park was designated a Unesco World Heritage site. It became a National Park in 1951, one of the first established in Britain after the passing of the 1949 Act of Parliament. This year marks the 70th anniversary of that Act, without which the UK wouldn’t have its 15 glorious National Parks to explore and enjoy today.

That the Lake District is – and remains – a protected place is important to me. The Lake District is a gift. A green refuge where once-lost species have returned; a precious jewel of a place where I, and countless others before me, have felt at peace and been inspired, and found gentle reminders of a more natural past. A wonderland I first visited as a girl, I am lured back to the Lake District year after year. And each time I return, I fall back in love – bewitched all over again by the “empyrean light” of the Lakes that shines forever bright, captivates completely and re-wilds my heart.

SEE ALSO: Why Manchester is the UK’s next creative powerhouse

This article was originally published in the June 2019 issue of SilverKris magazine

The post Over vales and hills: The enchantment of the Lake District appeared first on SilverKris.

2 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Cosmic Scheme Pt 2

Katy Perry : Dark Horse - Pt 2 - This one is cuter @deepestfirefun

I knew you were

You were gonna come to me

And here you are

But you better choose carefully

'Cause I'm capable of anything

Of anything and everything

One long stretch of jagged stones lay between you and the mountain sitting underneath the sun rising to the top of the sky only to drop again every two minutes to rise again seemed to be a distant goal. Where Thorin had suggested the long stretch of stairs as you grew closer you noticed something off about the tide on the river flowing out from underneath Erebor. Hard and fast it would rush out to the lake in the distance with the town Thorin swore to be destroyed now baffling him in his stagnant stance staring at it confused how this could happen. “Come on Thorin,” you said panting out the words to the song you were using to keep your pace hopping from stone to stone instead of climbing over each that was nearly as tall as you and only growing more clustered the closer you grew to the peak.

Make me your Aphrodite

Make me your one and only

But don't make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy

Thorin turned asking in his own hop from one stone to another, “What are you singing?”

“Just a song, keeping the pace.”

So you wanna play with magic

Boy, you should know whatcha falling for

Baby do you dare to do this

'Cause I'm coming atcha like a dark horse

Thorin, “I could imagine twelve more helpful tunes than that.”

“More of a hype builder.”

“Hype?” He asked climbing over another stone ensuring his makeshift kilt wasn’t getting snagged.

Are you ready for, ready for

A perfect storm, a perfect storm

'Cause once you're mine, once you're mine

There's no going back

“Like, some cultures have war chants, it’s to keep your mood and confidence up to do your best.”

“This world of yours lacks all logic on occasion.”

That had you giggle and he jumped ahead to catch you as your hands hooked around the top of the stone your boot had slid down. Holding your hips with feet on two opposite stones to keep you in place he looked to the side of your face in your saying, “You’re being generous. Far more than on occasion.”

Mark my words

This love will make you levitate

Like a bird

Like a bird without a cage

But down to earth

If you choose to walk away, don't walk away

Three more miles you climbed, jumped and skidded your scuffed little way to the bridge at the front gate panting up at the sky watching the sun rise again as you asked, “You can swim, right?”

“Yes, why? None can swim these waters.”

“I can go alone if you like.” Walking to the edge luring him after you.

“Not while I draw breath!”

Smirking back at him you said, “When I say we dive in. How long can you hold your breath?”

Thorin wet his lips eyeing the water, “I have not timed it, however you are not accustomed to these frigid waters.”

“Well I’ll just have to channel my inner polar bear.”

“What does that even-,”

“Now!” You said diving with hands joined together into the water skillfully while he practically cannon balled in after you. A moment he eyed the still water and kicked hard to catch up to you already swimming onwards towards the shadows of the mountain walls and floor.

Sharply at the surface you gasped for air and muttering the count in your head you turned looking for a place to climb out feeling Thorin’s hands on your hips surfacing with a gasp of his own behind you. “Over there,” he said guiding you to the rocky ledge that he lifted you onto leading to the farming peaks and climbed up himself with a helpful tug from you bringing him up just in time to miss the sudden surge of water racing out of the peak again. Watching the water he heard you steadying your breath and take a few blind steps in the dark, the fourth slipped turning him to grip your hips again. “Careful.”

“It’s pitch black in here, Thorin,”

“What?” That made you groan and he eyed your hands he turned to lay on his shoulders saying, “Follow me, my apologies. Dwarves have more acute eyesight in the dark.” Nine more steps came and he muttered, “Mind the step,”

“The, wh-,” into his back you fell forward at the toe of your boot colliding with the sudden step making you huff in his pause to glance back at you confused still how you had hit it even with a warning. “You know what?” Over his shoulders your arms looped and in a hop your legs were around his waist parting his lips at his first thought for the easiest way to cross through this portion of the mountain he assumed you might not wish to try for proprieties sake without a formal courtship announced. “You’re carrying me.” To yourself you kept your shock that he seemed unaffected without a single sway or flinch at your weight being added to his back and simple turn with hands lowering to support your thighs to continue onwards.

Miles he walked until even you could see what was obscuring the path, thick jungles of vines and stems of tall tangled flowers made of gemstones had your legs easing down allowing you closer. Each stalk and stem glowing and softly lighting up whatever hall you seemed to be at. The step you took had Thorin’s hand folding around your wrist, “You have no idea where we are.”

“True, but I do know you have nothing under your kilt.”

For a moment his lips puckered and he nodded, “True. Carry on, Bunnanunê.”

Down to a crouch you lowered to ease between two vines in the start of a long winding path. Easy enough you thought only to feel when a ruby vine lost a leaf that snagged on your sleeve a singe on your arm, the hiss from which had Thorin hurrying forward breaking off a green leaf and your hand rose to cover your mouth from the gag triggered by the horrid stench of the stone. Shaking his head he said, “Emerald reeks, ruby does what? You aren’t hurt?”

“Just a small burn. Carrying on away from that stench.” You said continuing to move onwards.

Topaz broke and an annoying buzz sounded for what seemed like hours until he groaned feeling a sting at just brushing another topaz stem. Another snap came not ten feet later from you and Thorin’s eyes traveled to your back instantly smelling a wave of what seemed to be musk exuding from you. The light blue stone leaf shattered to the floor and at your deep exhale to battle the heat flash wracking through your body you pushed forward ignoring the urge you had to not do anything but turn around, tear that kilt of the King you could make great use of to calm this hormonal hunger. “Was that a blue vine?” struggling through the widening of his pupils to your lingering musk wafting back to him already hinting at what it could be, what he deeply hoped it could be not minding a distraction to sate your needs before continuing on again. “What does it do?”

“I’d, rather not talk about it. But I’m fine. Don’t break any.” Not wishing to push you on sharing he remained silent.

Behind you he gave you directions and a couple times he caught you with an arm around your middle when your foot nearly slid off the mist coated walkway. “Forgive me, however, the walkway leads that direction.” He said pointing in front of you earning a nod in return as he corrected your footing and released you trying to control himself and his clear bubbling reaction to the lingering musk coating you still.

Sudden arms around your middle and a drop to the ground had you wide eyed laying flat on Thorin’s rising chest as one of the giant ax wielding statues dropped its weapon into a swoop. Just barely you had missed the attack in the upper half of the hall pitch black even with the glowing waist high vines you were now lying in. “What, the, ever, loving, fuck. Thorin, what sort of booby trapped hell did you grow up in?!”

Unable to help it he started to laugh watching the next swoop of the ax, replying to fight his tears at the sting of ruby flowers heating his arms to a painful degree just shy of a burn he had crushed to keep you safe, “I swear to you our home is not normally like this.”

“Better not be. And remind me to have a word with Gandalf, ‘she will know what to do’, oh ya, right old master of all this right here!” making him chuckle again. Tilting your head back you watched the blade soar over head again and you said, “We fell back, so, we just have to crawl the other way.” Awkwardly on top of him you turned to the side until your feet were by his head and you rolled onto your belly to watch the next swing and begin to crawl granting him room to twist and turn himself.

On all fours you crawled only to stop at his hand gripping your ankle to murmur, “Another ax. This one vertical.”

“Lovely.” Trying to see it you asked, “How far?”

“Ten feet.”

“Um, just stop me when I get close.”

“Please don’t tell me you can’t measure ten feet.”

“Please don’t tell me that you won’t warn me if it isn’t ten feet on the nose, because if I lose my hand I will bludgeon you with my bloody stump of an arm.” His chortles behind you had you shaking your head and continuing onwards. Roughly ten feet you halted asking, “So, right in front of me?”

“About another step it should fall.”

“How thick is it?”

“About five feet, I wager.”

“Lovely. We can discuss odds and winnings later.” You wet your lips and knelt trying to see anything above the vines without lifting your head over the top. “Anything over these?”

Thorin looked over it saying, “Not that I can see.”

You nodded and wet your lips reaching back only to widen his eyes at your fingers inching under the slit in his kilt, “Give me your hand,”

Biting his lip to say your finger was brushing his upper thigh and not his forearm he simply lowered his arm to be in your reach he pressed forward and scooted forward nearer to your back as you lifted it, “Okay, path is that way, right? Just straight ahead no twists or cutouts in the floor?”

“Correct.”

With a nod you shifted your feet and sharply inhaling you released his hand you lowered again to his actual thigh this time, “Alright, bring on the stupid.” His lips parted and up you darted and a smirk ghosted across his lips seeing your leap most of the way and foot falling through air making you tuck forward and curl to land on the other side of an unseen gap in the floor to crash into a row of vines splattering around your curled up throbbing self. Your goal to simply cover your face from any shards through the crash of the ax falling sending more down around you.

“Bunnanunê?”

Deeply your stomach lurched and you groaned out, “You got to be fucking kidding me.” Clearly in the slow lift of the ax your gag was heard followed by your groan of, “I broke, so much, green,” again you gagged and covered your mouth easing onto your knees for him to see you in the dark trying not to dry heave to the horrid stench. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Shaking his head to hold back a relieved chuckle he said, “Take your time, Bunnanunê.”

You nodded and steadily while staying down you scooted away from the edge and grumbled, “There’s no ground there.”

“I got it, one moment I’ll be there.” Smoothing your hand over your face you missed the full display of his Kingly Jewels on display through his near split of a jump ending in a roll scooting you back more into more green vines causing him to turn and curl around you holding you as you calmed from his overpowering natural scent disguising the gag reflex soon enough. “There you go,” he said smoothing a hand over your back and in looking around he said, “Appears to be another horizontal ax ahead.”

Shakily you inhaled and turned still feeling his hands smoothing over your back and on all fours you eased through more vines straight ahead until a bump of a stone block stopped the path to blindly try to inspect what it was. “I think there’s steps ahead.”

“The path ahead leads to a tunnel we require to move deeper into the mountain. I should go first to inspect it.”

“okay.” The response wasn’t really needed as he was already eased around you and inching up the steps leaving you alone in the dark unaware of where he had gone to.

Biting your lip you waited having flashbacks to your night terrors from when you were little at being left alone in the dark, a fear you have no clue how it was mastered leaving it free to creep back in again. Above you however Thorin rumble calmed you in saying, “All clear, I’m straight ahead of you twenty five steps.” Turned to watch your timid climb up the steps he asked, “I’m still here, don’t be afraid.”

“Question.”

“Mhmm?”

“How dark does it have to be for you not to see? And is it different seeing in the dark form light, like it’s tinged in green or does it all look the same when the sun sets and you can’t tell the difference in day or night?”

Again he was grinning and replied after wetting his lips, “It is more of a silvery blue, we can tell the difference. Were we in a forest I would require a torch, but stone gives off light to Dwarf eyes.”

“Well no offence, it’s just all dark to me.”

“Are you afraid?” His tone dripping with concern wondering how he might be able to help you.

“Um, well, I used to have these night terrors as a kid when I was left alone in the dark.”

“How did you beat them, I could help you.”

“See, that’s the thing, I can’t remember.” When his head turned to double check there was no dangers ahead at your crawling closer he missed your blind reach up that landed your hand on his ankle. “That you?”

“My ankle, it is wide enough for two,” he hummed back and easing timidly up beside him making him smirk again at your hand lifting to pat him on the butt and tap up onto his back so you didn’t bump into him all the way to the top step. Fondly his hand settled on your back and he rubbed it a few moments allowing you time to calm then join him in inching up, “I don’t see any traps, let’s try standing.” His hands lowered to your hips hoping to help build your confidence to stand and step up onto the landing listening to his hum of, “Just ahead is the hall we require.”

Not fifteen steps later and your foot recoiled from a deep violet tile now growing brighter sending you back into Thorin’s chest panting at the mist of hands springing up from the ground to snatch at you. Around you his arms draped and timidly you stepped in the row of dark tiles continuing on a tile at a time to get through the hall to whatever else was on the other side. “Thorin, what’s on the other side of this hall?”

“That would be the Throne Room we have to cross to reach the hall leading to the Royal Wing.”

“What’s in the Royal Wing?”

“I, am not certain.”

“Then why are you taking us there?”

“I am not certain.”

“Is it more of a hunch or are you looking for some clothes?”

That had him chuckle and say, “Hunch, though, clothes would not be turned away.”

“Gandalf, when you talked to him he said they were in the depths of the mountain. Are we heading there next?”

“Some part of me believes it to be a trap.”

“Unlike the rest of the mountain, which is clearly child friendly.”

Again he chortled and replied, “Something dangerous, or more dangerous rather. The hoard as well I would suggest we steer clear of.”

“Ok, pants first, plan later.” Making him smirk again following your single tile step to the left and to the right again back to the former straight path. Endless darkness with the King to guide you just a step behind peering over your shoulder lingered on until in the edge of the Royal Wing you caught a ghostly glow reflected on a picture frame turning your head to find a floating fox in misty blue who eased through the portrait on the wall not allowing you a good look at it. Back and forth either the same fox or several began to pop out and at Thorin’s silence he either hadn’t noticed or this was somehow usual to this Wing. A doorway in the center of the maze of halls was opened and in you went to the pitch black apartment that once inside right where they had always been matches were found to begin lighting each lantern along the way for you.

While he was on the hunt for clothes you turned for the study that right smack in the center of it sat a glowing checkers board. Strolling around it you eyed it and stopped lifting a piece you moved forward luring the faces of dozens of fox ghosts out of the walls. Hunched in this tall room a massive owl stood eyeing the board that with his lifted foot continued the game onwards luring a chair from along the wall to ease under your legs. Fully focused you sat becoming immersed in the game deaf to what Thorin said once he found you fixed in a game with a great guardian of this peak. Now it became clear, in Smaug’s invasion and capture of Erebor the Great Owl’s statue must have been destroyed or damaged entrapping any who dared to enter to be forever trapped in a loop until they beat the being at a game of their choosing cherished from their childhood.

Narrowing his eyes Thorin eyed the identical pieces in differing colors making him wonder how the game proved troubling at all. So similar to chess, save for the fact that everything moved diagonally. A five jump move had his eyes widening and the feathers on the Great Owl puffing out before the click of its beak in thought when you double stacked your piece making it to the other end of the board. That piece was now rogue to Thorin compared to the others soon joined by two more until with a trio of pieces left the Owl conceded its defeat looking you in the eye to ask, “In return for besting me in this game of skill I must know what is it that you wish for?”

To your eyes Thorin still hadn’t entered the room and was otherwise distracted with who knows what and from a long look at the board your eyes met the Owls and Thorin bit his fist to keep from openly sobbing at your heart clenching wish. “I wish the Durins could have their home back.”

The Owl’s head cocked to the side then straightened to lean forward inches from your face saying, “I asked for what you would wish for.”

“I don’t have a home, I know what it feels like to have it stolen from you. I wish for the Durins to have their home back.”

Blinking a few times his shimmering green eyes locked on your face before saying, “I will release this mountain along with the innocent within. The dragon however I shall keep for penance and you shall have one winter to decide what it is you wish for. Then I shall return for my answer.” Whispering through the mountain a breeze flowed and all the enchantments faded away.

Tightly in a hug Thorin pulled your wide eyed self struggling to think of when he had gotten there. And to the chime of the clock along the wall he smiled brightly at you as your eyes dropped over his fully adorned self with several shirts, a vest and some boots you really wanted a pair of lined with fur that looked so cozy. His hair braided back for the top half to keep it from his face and beard freshly trimmed after what seemed to have been a break to scrub his face at least as well as his hands, on of which extended that you accepted beginning the hurried gleeful path with lantern in his hand to guide you through the mountain. This time straight for his friends, and one Hobbit who seemed all too familiar with a branch of Sackvilles all the same to shame you for destroying the home they wished to take from you.

A new home here was promised to you and as part of your Durin accepted lineage to their hired Burglar you were as good as family to Dwalin who aimed to court dear Bilbo by Spring and be wed by Fall. Learning how to handle one Dwarf was a handful, but a whole mountain full, this would deepen your already instant bond with the kind new cousin of yours, with whom you were sharing an apartment with in the Royal Wing.

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

Pt 3

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #Fallen to Middle Earth #soulmate #Request

23 notes · View notes