#Next up is Kestrel and Honey

[hamstyandfriends]

AshFire & SilverBloom

The night when AshKit's littermates died, and he gained his burn scars, his life changed. He had to stay in the medicine den for a good amount of time, and still has to go on moonly checkups to this day

One night, when AshKit was still in the medicine den, a newly made warrior, SilverBloom came to visit. He felt sorry for the little kit, and wanted to make sure that he was alright. The medicine cats and other authority figures of SunClan were all concerned; What if AshKit will never be able to be a warrior? SilverBloom decided to take the first step, talk to CanarySong. The older medicine cat was a littermate of SunClan's leader, MorningCrystal, so SilverBloom knew that he's the only cat who could make his idea come to reality. He asked to mentor AshKit when he is ready. And luckily, CanarySong managed to convince MorningCrystal to let this happen

SilverBloom, despite being a young and inexperienced mentor, still tried his best to teach AshPaw. He was always patient with the apprentice, and comforted him when he had his doubts. AshPaw had it a little harder than his denmates; His scars often made it hard for him to move and train like any other cat. Especially with his weakened back leg, he had some trouble learning how to run or jump with it, but eventually managed to make up his own way of doing things. His mother, MistyHeart and SilverBloom helped him embrace who he is, and so did his best friend, KestrelPaw

KestrelCloud was made into a warrior a few moons earlier than AshPaw, despite being younger than him, but he didn't mind it. In fact, he was incredibly happy for his friend, and couldn't wait to join her as a warrior when his own time comes. AshPaw spent a great amount of time daydreaming about his own warrior ceremony; What would his full name be? Maybe AshHeart, after his mother? Or AshSpeck, after his late father? Or maybe AshPebble, AshSmoke? Maybe something completely different, like AshFur? AshTail? AshLeg or AshFoot would be a little bit ironic, wouldn't they? Then maybe AshFall? AshCloud, so he could match with KestrelCloud? Maybe. He didn't know, but he couldn't wait to find out

When the special day came, AshPaw felt like he was flying. As he sat under the Great High, waiting for MorningCrystal to announce his name, he imagined CrystalClan gathered all around him. And then she said...

... "AshFire"

Fire? Really? How could MorningCrystal name him after the very thing that scarred him? The tragedy that he has no memories, but nightmares of? Is this some kind of sick joke, made by CrystalClan? He didn't understand. But he didn't need to. Whatever this name meant, he was sure that it had a proper reason behind it. And what really mattered was, that he was ready to prove to all of SunClan that he could be the best warrior they ever had. The name AshFire will be remembered, and never to be made fun of. And that's a promise

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

I just saw naavispider's post about The Golden Compass x Avatar and I wonder what Cabin would look like if the characters also had daemons (if you haven't watched this movie, it's something like an animal personification of the soul, it shows your emotions etc.) - what would be the daemon of Quaritch, Paz, Spider or Hunter (maybe twins too if you have any ideas)? And as if it influenced the story

Hello! I'm sorry this took me so long to get to! I've been sick and I needed some time to think about it.

I'm familiar with the Golden Compass and I tried to watch the t.v show but couldn't really get into it (I watch a ton of movies but I just don't really watch t.v at all so it's more the format in which I was trying to consume the story then the story itself) I did go and read Naavispider's The Golden Compass x Avatar posts though and I did really like the concept so here's what I think that would like in Cabin.

I really like the idea of Spider and Quaritch both having tigers as their daemons. i think it fits them both really well.

For Paz's daemon I picked a kestrel, since they're a bird of prey but a smaller one that's still pretty deadly.

for the characters in my Blood Brothers Au.

I feel like Hunter would have something that looks harmless but is deceptively badass, like a honey badger or something.

I think Gunner and Ada would still be at an age where their daemons are still shifting but Gunner's would definitely settle into an animal know for stubbornness like a ram or a bull. For Ada I don't know why but since I made her such a girly girly I like the idea of her having a really scary animal, like a shoebill stork. Something that just makes you go what the fuck?

Now onto how this would play out in Cabin. I'm going to focus just on Cabin because I feel like things will get insane quick if I use this concept on Blood Brothers.

So Spider's tiger looks like one you'd see in a sideshow zoo. It looks under fed, it's coat is dull and dirty, and it is defensive as hell. Spider tries his best to act the opposite of how his daemon appears. He's friendly, always willing to help, polite. He tries to be the ideal foster son until he's given a reason not to be. but it's never any good. The second he tries to politely introduce himself to a new set of foster parents his tiger will protectively wrap around him, crouching low, and growling at the new caretakers. It makes everyone terrified of him. Spider doesn't hold it against his daemon. He understands why it's like that and at least with his tiger he's never truly alone. He sleeps curled up with her every night, talks to her while he eats his meals when he's alone, and plays with her all the time.

Quaritch sees all this and immediately can see right through his son. The tiger is defensive- it's scared of being hurt and looks in desperate need of care. When he kidnaps Spider (don't ask me how that would logistacally work when you also have to transport a tiger) he does things a little differently. It's Spider's tiger that's chained up in a shed out back constantly watched by Quaritch's own all white tiger. Spider's tiger will growl and snap at it's parent doing everything it can to fight back. Quaritch's tiger fights right back, subduing Spider's like a naughty kitten, one giant white paw holding the orange tiger's head low while the white tiger licks it clean. This is a daily occurance.

Inside the cabin, Spider is just locked in his room at night. During the day Quaritch is never far from his side, making sure he eats, forcing him to do school work, fussing over him to no end. Spider fights him every step of the way. The very first meal Quaritch served him got thrown across the room. It took hours before Quaritch succeeded in forcing Spider to clean it up. It took even longer to get him to sit back down afterwards. Then father and son stared each other down over a plate of cold meatloaf that Spider refused to eat. The sun was coming up the next day before Spider finally broke down and ate his dinner, too hungry and tired to keep up the useless fight.

Spider raises hell where ever he can. He's always met with firm discipline ( and I do mean discipline not physical abuse) and a level of blunt patience that he's not used to receiving.

Quaritch watches the tigers to gauge Spider's progress. Spider's tiger gains weight. It's fur now clean and shiny from its parent's daily groomings. The tiger still fights it's parents but slowly but surely- over months of time- the tiger fights back less and less. It'll still swat and growl but all it takes is a firm scruffing by it's parent to get it to lay down for it's grooming. The orange tiger even starts to close its eyes and relax as it's parent cares for them.

Spider meanwhile is struggling to find ways to resist. It'd be easy to hate the man if he actually raised a hand against him. At most his father will pick him up and lock him in his room when he's being a "bratty kid" as his father will mutter under his breath. And when refusing to eat meals, or not doing the homeschool work he's given, or even refusing to shower for days in the hopes that something will get a rise out of the man all fail, what's really left to do? He doesn't want to starve. He doesn't want to walk around in his own filth. He doesn't want to fall behind in school and be a moron when he eventually escapes. So he does as he's told. He pointedly speaks to Quaritch as little as possible. He hisses and bares his teeth when ever Quaritch tries to gently brush Spider's hair from his face while he's studying, or cup his cheek before saying goodnight. He openly scoffs when ever Quaritch says I love you even after months. Even after part of him starts to believe it.

It takes almost a whole year but finally Spider's tiger stops fighting it's parent. One morning it simply laid down ready to receive it's parents care and never stopped, even staying in place long after it's parent was done to bunt and snuggle.

Quaritch eagerly test his own son, starting by simply moving his boys curtain of hair from his face while he's pouring over his math work book, an act that'd sometimes get the father's hand smacked. Spider doesn't react. Thrilled but trying to not react he pats his son on the back and walks away. That night he calls out to "Miles" for dinner. His boy would alway yell back that that wasn't his name! Tonight he looks a little annoyed but says nothing. Eventually it becomes a non issue.

Spider's tiger is the first to be tested. Quaritch lets it out of it's restraints. At first it doesn't even know what to do, now so used to it's cage that it doesn't know how to leave. It's parent coaxes it out, staying close while the orange tiger explores it's surroundings. And it never runs off. It sniffs around, chases a butterfly at one point, then finds a nice sun spot to bask in it's parent joining it. Curled up next to the white tiger the orange tiger chuffs contendely.

Seeing this Quaritch unlocks the front door holding it wide open for his son. Spider blinks at the bright light, not rising from his spot on the couch where he sat reading a book. "it's a nice day. How 'bout you come outside," Quaritch coaxes. Slowly Spider puts down the book and meets his father on the front porch his eye instantly connecting with his tiger. He hasn't seen her in a year and it feels like a piece of him reconnects when he does. She looks so healthy, so sleek and powerful. He feels completely content when he flops down beside her. She curls around him as Quaritch approaches lifting her head to let the man pet her.

[thedastrash]

FIC WORD SEARCH

Thank you @morganlefaye79 who tagged me for the words “cake, occupied, outside, staring, heart”

Cake: had to come from the birthday fic I wrote! Of Anyone I Ever Knew, I've Gotten Close To You (I was spoiled for choice of excerpt, there’s a lot of cake in it lol):

"Well, did ye win or just make a mess?" Sebastian asks, wiping some frosting off her cheek and grimacing at the cake smearing from her hair onto his expensive trousers.

Occupied: The closest I came was “preoccupied” from my upcoming Anders Summerbang piece:

“Yes, it seemed you were preoccupied with something… shall I continue my confession?” Anders asks with a tone of mock innocence which sets Sebastian’s jaw on edge.

Outside: from a short WIP for Alistair/Velaneth Surana:

After a long span of silence Alistair turns his head to her. “Is that… are your teeth chattering?” This coming from the man laying with a whole leg outside his blanket and radiating warmth.

Staring: Carver/Merrill from Fire in the Darkness, Sapphire in the Air for the Arlathan Exchange:

Merrill peeked down at his face again and saw him staring fixedly at her chest with his lips parted as his fingers kneaded and brushed, feeling the slight heft of her breasts in his palms.

Heart: from my mysterious upcoming Anders Summerbang WIP piece:

In the pounding of my heart… I hear the glory of creation. His heart hammers its way down from his throat as he leans from the spray to listen closer. All his muscles are tense in a way that the heat of the water can’t touch, tight as a bow string. Just a little longer and he could finish.

And thank you to @fereldan-kestrel who also tagged me for the words “note, guide, learning, trap, legs”

Note: from my Cullen/Cassandra fake dating fic, Too Eligible

Cullen sets out flowers and two goblets. “Would you care for wine? It’s a honey wine from Redcliffe. Notes of clover and bluebells so I’m told.”

Guide & Learning: Bethany/Alistair from Dinner and a Show

She never got very good at potions, as evidenced by Alistair’s wince when he drank, so she compensated with magic, focusing on the details of anatomy and learning how to guide her spells precisely.

Trap: I gotta write more traps lol! I cheated because trap came up nowhere and used “straps” from my WIP Cassandra/Inquisitor Merrill piece:

“Yes.” Cassandra went through the motions by rote memory, tightening the straps on her saddle, cinching the bags, tucking her necessities where they belonged.

Legs: from the long WIP I’m working on for Alistair/Vela Surana

“You are an angel,” Vela says emphatically, flopping onto the ground next to the fire. She spreads her legs out and flings her arms wide. “Wake me up when it’s ready. Or bury me. Whichever comes first.”

Feel free to ask me about any of these in an ask <3 I will tag: @dismalzelenka, @sulky-valkyrie, @highwayphantoms, @barbex, @kittynomsdeplume, @dalish-rogue, & anyone who wants to!

[practically-an-x-man]

random question time! my character, Berrie, has made friendship bracelets for your OCs, how do they respond?

Ooh, interesting question! Thank you so much!! Let's see here...

Rae: Probably the most basic reaction of them all. A surprised, cheerful thank-you, wears it until it starts to get frayed, then sets it on a shelf somewhere for safe keeping.

Robin: Oh honey, the only time it leaves her wrist is when she's onstage. And even then, she's probably got it tucked into a pocket somewhere. Her friends are EVERYTHING to her.

Jasper: "Oh, sick! Thank you so much!" - immediately ties it around their wrist and leaves it there until it begins to fray

Ophelia: "Oh, uh, thanks." and tucks it into a pocket. This probably seems a little flippant, but the next time someone catches a photo while she's out on hero work, the camera zooms into a tiny woven bracelet tied around the base of one of her actuators.

Kestrel: Is so shocked at the idea of actually being someone's friend that they forget to actually take the bracelet.

Katherine: Oh, it just joins the ones already on her wrist! And by the time they meet up again, she's already got a matching one for Berrie in return

Madison: Doesn't quite get it, but she'll oblige and let Berrie tie it around her wrist. She's not the most social, but she's getting there.

Quinn: A little surprised at first, but will only accept it if Berrie will take one of their Kandi bracelets in return.

Indigo: "Oh, I love it, but it'll get ruined if I put it on my wrist." - she's a mechanic and her hands are always filthy with oil and grease. So instead, she tucks it into a pocket with full good intentions.... and promptly loses it. She chases down Berrie for a replacement.

Prometheus: Would probably start crying right then and there. Don't worry, they're happy tears.

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

the sky’s open wide, i’m running with the wolves - chapter 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, background Remy, background c!Thomas Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Platonic/brotherly Virgil with Logan and the Creativitwins; platonic/parental Patton & Virgil; platonic/brotherly Logan and the Creativitwins with each other; platonic/parental Janus with Logan and the Creativitwins; background endgame Moceit.  Warnings: Probably some language; references to Christianity; non-graphic violence.  Word count: 1570 Notes: Wolfwalkers (2020) AU! You don’t need to have seen the movie to enjoy this, though. 

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: When Patton is charged with hunting down the wolves in the woods, he believes he is protecting his young son Virgil. But Virgil is afraid to watch his father vanish into the woods, and sneaks after him. When Virgil runs into three wolf cubs who hold the secrets of the forest, he has to make a choice: obey the rules he’s known all his life? Or try to help the three shapeshifting boys find their missing father—even though Virgil's always been taught that the only safe wolf is a dead one? As Virgil explores the wonderful world his new friends show him, and uncovers the lies his town is built on, he may be too late to realize that his choices will cost him more than he ever bargained for.

Chapter 1

Remy would never have particularly considered himself a God-fearing man. Oh, he said his prayers and went to church, of course, but it was more a comfortable habit woven into the fabric of his life than something he devoted much thought to. Even at nineteen, he preferred to occupy his day-to-day thoughts with such matters as the tending of his sheep, the comfort of a nice dry pair of woolen socks, the avoidance of wolves, and, most of all, the brewing of a good cup of tea.

Remy was good at his job. He tended his sheep; he stayed well away from the woods. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with the woods. Stay away from their territory, and keep up the deal of old, and always be safe. He had never put much thought into this, either; it was much more important, in Remy’s eyes, to consider the fine taste that a brew steeped just right could carry.

He never expected his thoughtless respect for the woods to pay off.

The first time Remy saw a Wolfwalker, he was twenty-five years old and had started to wonder if he even believed they were real. But after that day, he never doubted again.

After all, how else could one explain the way the huge, snarling gray wolf, poised to deliver a killing bite to one of Remy’s finest sheep, had heard that commanding howl come from the woods, and put its tail between its legs and run back home in response?

Remy had watched the wolf run, standing frozen in fear and shock—and then he’d seen the Wolfwalker. A tall, tremendous wolf standing at the edge of the treeline, easily twice the size of the largest man, with dark gray fur and eyes gleaming yellow, a jagged scar running down one side of its face. Lean and powerful. Remy instinctively knew this was no ordinary wolf.

Remy had never considered himself a God-fearing man, but staring at the Wolfwalker and the way it commanded the pack of ordinary wolves surrounding it, he thought to himself that perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to pray a little harder.

“Thank you,” he croaked out when the Wolfwalker turned its eyes on him. “Thank you, m’lord—bless ye—I’ll never cross your territory, you may be sure of that—thank you for protecting my sheep—” He barely even knew what he was saying, babbling out his thoughts in more than a little healthy terror.

He wasn’t quite sure if the way the Wolfwalker bowed its head was a nod of acknowledgement, but the next moment, the Wolfwalker was leaping away, the pack of wolves trailing in its wake. And not a single sheep of Remy’s had been harmed.

Remy didn’t see the Wolfwalker often; over the next decade or so, he crossed paths with—him? Remy somehow got the feeling it was a him—perhaps half a dozen times. Every time he came away filled with awe and fear and a renewed sense that though the Wolfwalker was terrifying and fearsome, Remy would far rather live under his odd protection than whatever farce could be provided by all these guards the new Lord Protector kept bringing around.

Before he knew it, Remy was nearly thirty-seven and his appreciation of a good cup of tea had only strengthened over the years. He went to church and said his prayers with gusto, and every night he glanced out to the woods and gave a little nod of respect. For the Wolfwalker and, these last few years, the little cubs that followed in his wake.

As long as the people kept themselves to themselves and stayed out of the woods, Remy knew there was nothing to fear from the wolves.

***

“I don’t want you to go!” Logan clung to Janus’s wrist, digging his heels into the ground and trying to physically hold him back.

Janus lifted his powerful arm and picked the near-teen right up off the ground with almost no effort at all. “This is terribly grown-up of you,” he informed his eldest son dryly.

“There are too many humans,” Logan insisted, dangling from Janus’s arm, the little claws of his hands pricking at Janus’s skin. “You said only the forest was safe!”

Janus drew a long breath. “And that has been true for time immemorial. But things have changed. I like it no more than you do. But I need you to stay here and look after your brothers, you understand me, Logan? I will find us a new forest, a safer one, without any humans who want to cut and burn the trees or trap us with iron. And then I will come back and get you three, and we will go there.”

“But this forest is ours!” Logan protested. “No other forest will be ours like this one is.”

“Logan,” Janus said, and his voice bore an undercurrent of a warning snarl now, “I am doing what I must to protect my cubs.”

He didn’t know where to go, only that they couldn’t stay here. Not with the way the humans kept getting bolder and bolder and venturing deeper into the woods. Between Logan’s poor eyesight and the twins’ recklessness, and the way all three of them were only cubs and couldn’t defend themselves well yet, Janus was getting twitchier and twitchier by the day.

Logan stilled, an unhappy look on his face. “Can I come with you, at least? I can help! I’m very good at figuring things out! We could find a new forest together!”

“No,” Janus responded at once, his heart rate quickening at the idea. “I don’t—” He broke off and reconsidered what he was about to say. “I need you to look after the twins,” he said at last, striving to keep his voice casual.

Not casual enough. Logan stared at him, a look of dawning horror on his face. “You think you might not come back!” he accused.

Janus refrained from speaking the curse he wanted to let out. Logan had always been far too observant. “Of course I’ll come back,” he lied through his teeth, running a comforting hand through Logan’s tangled hair. “I only want to make sure the way is safe for my little ones first.”

Logan had spoken the truth a moment ago: there were too many humans these days. Janus wasn’t sure it was possible to safely venture past the borders of the forest anymore. He wasn’t sure there was anywhere left to take his little ones.

He wasn’t sure he would survive this search.

But it wasn’t like there were any other options left at this point. “Logan,” Janus said, kneeling down and putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He focused on making his voice honey-sweet and sincere. “I’m going to keep you safe, you understand? I would never abandon you. You are in charge of keeping your brothers safe until I return, but I will be back in a month or two.” Janus held the little boy’s brown eyes and tried not to think of humans with their traps and spears and guns and the way that once Janus left the forest he would have nowhere to hide.

“I will come back,” Janus told Logan, and he put his whole heart into his lie. “I promise.”

***

“I don’t want to move to some stupid village.” Virgil kicked his feet against the edge of the wagon petulantly, poking a piece of straw through the bars of his kestrel Thomas’s cage.

Patton sighed and reached back to ruffle his son’s hair, not taking his eyes from the winding dirt road. “I know, kiddo. We’re going to have a better life there. The Lord Protector offers a handsome salary to Hunters who can bring down wolves. They say the town is terrorized day and night, and they need to rid the forest of these pests so they can safely harvest the wood and expand the borders of the town.”

“But I hate when you go hunting!” Virgil crawled up to the driver’s seat beside Patton and clung to his arm. “I’m always so scared you’ll get eaten up! Or step in a trap! Or fall off a cliff! Or drown! Or—”

“Hey, there. Hey, now.” Patton wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “Breathe, child. Breathe for me.” He murmured soothingly for a few minutes. “Now, come on, tell me: who taught you to draw a bow and arrow?”

“You,” Virgil mumbled.

“Good lad. And who taught you to track?”

“You did.”

“And what do you think? Am I a good Hunter? Haven’t I always kept you safe as can be?”

“Yes, but—”

“Virgil,” Patton interrupted, gentle but firm.

Virgil fidgeted for a moment. “It only has to go bad once, and you’d never come home again!”

“It’s a good thing I’d never do that, then,” Patton said, chucking Virgil under the chin and chuckling. “I mean, I have a sturdy little lad to look after, I must always make sure I hasten home to him at the end of the day.” He drew Virgil close and gave him a protective, reassuring hug. “Nothing’s going to get your Papa. I promise. I will always protect you, Virgil, you hear me? And today, the best way to protect you is to find ourselves a new home out here. We’ll make do, never you worry. I’m sure you’ll have lots of new friends in no time!”

--

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): 

@theimprobabledreamersworld @private-snippers @fivehargreeves05 

[valleyofkings-if]

"You are teaching me to love"

With Lysander and Kestrel, please? 😳

‘you are teaching me to love’

LYSANDER

the commander had never seemed so fragile, curled up against his frame and blanketed in the glow of the campfire. always so sure of themselves - of their decisions, the way they refused to wilt, even under the gaze of a goddess. and yet, once asleep, the harsh lines of their body quiet and the melody of their soul shifts into a gentle lullaby.

lysander thinks that he might sunder the realm of the gods, if they only asked.

they wouldn't - the commander would never insist on such heresy from lysander, and it only makes him love them more. their simple kindness nearly shatters his heart - how could someone withstand the trials they've faced and still have the courage to remain unyielding and soft as willow wood?

he's never known love like this, he thinks, burying his face in the crook of their neck. he's terrified that one day, the commander will wake and find lysander lacking. he sighs into the barest of kisses along their shoulder.

the commander stirs, murmuring his name and sending lighting through his limbs. another kiss, rose petals on silk, and lysander wants to bask in their sunlight until the world breaks. a heartbeat skips, and he cannot tell if it's his own traitorous heart or if the commander's - it doesn't matter, though.

their hand tightens on his waist, a sigh drips from his lips.

"i did not know love like this, before i met you, my love. it seems you are teaching me how - and i cannot find it in myself to resist."

their laugh is blanketed in sleep, but it is a sound that lysander would lie in forever, given the chance. his fingers under their jaw, tilting their face so he might press a butterfly kiss to their lips.

in the forest, a meadow blooms.

KESTREL 

sunlight like honey floods the room as dawn breaks anew.

kestrel kneels in the center, murmuring quiet benedictions to their god. you lean against the door,  patient as the evening sun in summer, waiting for them to finish. this ritual, their ritual, brings a peace you've not yet known.

you want to, though - if only you dared.

they rise, gentle curves bathed in honeyed silks sighing as they move towards you. perhaps it is simply the morning light or their own magic, but kestrel seems to glow from within.

"you are up early, commander. is there something i can help with?"

so formal, your love. their voice is the sound of a breeze dancing through sunlit leaves, the buzz of honeybees drunk on pollen. you push off the wall, stretching a hand out to clasp theirs. the other slips into the curious valley between their waist and their hip, slowly pulling them close.

"i woke up this morning, missing you. i came to escort you to breakfast, once you'd finished your morning prayers. i thought that you might take advantage of me waking with the sun, for once," you say, a smile tugging at your lips, "you never know when i'll rise this early again."

laughter bubbles out of kestrel, and you cannot help but laugh with them. you press a kiss to their forehead, they hum in contentment.

"then i would be a fool to resist - although i had been planning on curling up next to you, after. i suppose we could simply skip sleeping in and go right to the grand hall..." kestrel trails off, eyes glimmering with mischief.

"oh, well there's no need to be hasty - i never can say no to a nap," you reply - and a nap is the furthest thing from your mind. simply curling up next to kestrel is restorative, and they know that sleep is never an easy thing for you.

as always, they anticipate what you need before you can even ask. kestrel claims it's just an inherent intuition, but they've never been as free with caring as they have with you. they've not said it yet, but you can feel it in every touch.

love.

a hand cups your face, and you melt into kestrel's touch. it's as natural as breathing to turn your head and kiss the palm of their hand.

"I've never let myself be this vulnerable before, you know," Kestrel's voice is quieter, sturdier - more serious. "I think that perhaps, you might be teaching me to love - and I will happily listen for the rest of my existence."

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 14)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

“So then,” Patton was saying. “We ran to the stables.”

“We went to gazebo first,” Logan cut in.

“Right, we tried to go to the gazebo first,” Patton corrected, “but Mr. Deknis was over there tending to the tomatoes, and we knew he’d tell Mama the second he saw us. So, then we turned around and went to the stables.”

Virgil tilted his head, listening to the story Patton was telling. Patton was not the best storyteller. He tended to get lost in the middle and embellish, though Logan always corrected him. It was still very entertaining to watch though because he got incredibly animated. He’d even toppled himself over in excitement a couple of times.

Virgil squeezed the small pillow he had in his lap. He… wasn’t 100% sure what was going on. Logan and Patton had settled him on the blanket covered ground near Logan’s bed and proceeded to feed him snacks and talk about a lot of different things. It had started with them talking about what they’d done that day, and when Patton had made reference to something Virgil hadn’t understood, the two of them ended up talking about things from their childhood.

Virgil found himself entranced by their stories about playing in and running around the castle. It was all so different from what Virgil had experienced.

“…but, right as we were about to get to the ladder to climb up into the hay loft, Logan tripped!” Patton said, arms whipping around him. “He fell into a container of grain for the horses and it spilled all over the place. He tried to get up but grabbed the edge of the water trough and apparently it wasn’t very secure because it fell over and soaked him. So, then he was wet and covered in grain. He looked hilarious.”

“I did not!” Logan protested, but it did not sound like all of the other times he’d corrected Patton’s stories that night.

Patton looked over at him. “You did! You woke up the cute stable hand and he laughed himself silly at you, and by the time we got you even partially cleaned up, your dad had already found us. That’s how we got caught.”

“I have no recollection of these events,” Logan clearly lied, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“Liar,” Patton claimed. “You complained about picking grain out of your sheets for weeks.”

“No,” Logan growled.

“Yes! It’s okay. It was a good laugh.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed on him, and he looked pissed, but a second later, his expression lightened up. “You know what else was a ‘good laugh’?” he asked.

There was a second of silence before…

“Don’t you dare Logan.”

Logan looked Patton directly in the eye. “Patton was thirteen,” Logan started, but was interrupted the next moment when Patton lobbed a pillow at his head. Logan grabbed the pillow and leaned forward to smack Patton back with it. “He was thirteen and had just ‘discovered boys’ as his mother and my father called it when they attempted to explain his behavior to me. The focus of said ‘discovering’ at the time was the son of an ambassador from Lamir” who was staying for the summer, a seventeen-year-old boy by the name Bernardo.”

Virgil flinched back as Patton suddenly threw himself across the semicircle they’d made with their bodies to tackle Logan to the ground. He watched as they ineffectually wrestled on the ground for a few seconds before Logan, voice strained, continued to speak, while battling Patton’s hands away from his mouth.

“Patton’s only knowledge about flirting… ow… at that point was laughing at everything someone said and touching their arms and shoulders.” Logan managed to flip himself onto his stomach which was a horrible move as far as Virgil was concerned. It put him at a disadvantage to get out of the pin. However, Patton just kept reaching for his mouth and didn’t bare down on his neck to try to cut off his oxygen like Virgil expected. So, perhaps it was a rational move. “Our parents were speaking leaving Patton, Bernardo, and I in the garden,” Logan mumbled into the ground. “Bernardo said something ‘funny’ and Patton went to slap his shoulder while laughing but shoved too hard… Patton did you just lick my face?!”

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up!” Patton threatened. That was a… weird fighting strategy.

Logan paused to consider his options. “He shoved Bernardo into the fountain and when Bernardo asked him why he did that, he ran away and wouldn’t talk to him the rest of the summer!” Logan rushed out.

Patton reached over and grabbed the nearest pillow, proceeding to whack him viciously in the back of the head. Logan was lucky the nearest object was a pillow and not something any sturdier. “It’s not funny!” Patton yelled, smacking him even more, which was when Virgil realized Logan was laughing despite the pinning and pillow pummeling. “It’s not!” Patton said. “I really liked him!!”

“He was seventeen!” Logan said. “It was never going to happen!”

Patton groaned and rolled off of Logan to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. “But he had so many muscles,” Patton said. “He probably could have thrown me 10 yards.”

“And that is… a benefit?” Logan asked, rolling over onto his side to face him.

“You don’t. Get me.” Patton tilted his head to look at Virgil. “Anyway,” he said. “That is the story of how I died at 13.”

Virgil stared at him, and Patton’s forehead crinkled looking at him.

“Is something wrong, honey?” he asked.

 “What was that?” Virgil asked.

“What was what?”

Virgil just blinked at him. Patton seemed to think for a moment.

“Oh, did you think we were fighting?” Patton asked. “Like, really fighting?”

“You weren’t fighting?” Virgil asked.

“No, sweetie,” Patton said. “We were just playing.” He popped up into a sitting position. “Well, play fighting, but emphasis on play!”

Virgil looked over at Logan for confirmation. “No one is harmed nor was there any intention to harm each other,” he assured.

Patton grabbed the pillow he’d been smacking Logan with. “Like this!” he said. “Bap.” Unlike how he’d smacked Logan ruthlessly, he basically just touched Virgil’s shoulder with it.

Virgil squinted at him.

“Bap!” Patton said again, smacking him once more, this time with a little bit more force and on the cheek. Virgil’s nose scrunched up. “Pillow fight!”

“Pillow fight?”

“You try,” he said, pointing to the pillow in Virgil’s lap.

Virgil glanced down at the bands around his wrist. “Um…” he said. “I don’t think I can?”

“Oh, right,” Patton said with a frown. He bit his lip and glanced over at Logan. “Maybe…”

“Ill-advised,” Logan said.

“But…” Patton said. “Pillow fight.”

“We would have to be very cautious and make sure there were no weapons in the area.”

“No weapons but pillows!”

“Fine,” Logan relented to whatever was going on. “Let’s clear the area.” Virgil watched them with mounting confusion as they removed everything within a few meters radius of him except for pillows and blankets.

“There!” Patton said after a minute. “All done!”

“What are you doing?” Virgil said.

“We’re going to have a pillow fight,” Patton said.

“But I…”

“We’ll temporarily allow your restraints to be in the third setting like when you’re in the closet.”

Were they serious? Were they stupid? Virgil could have killed them dozens of times with the second setting and now they were giving him even more range of motion?

“You have to promise not to try to hurt anyone though,” Patton said. Virgil stared at him dumbly, as Patton held out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Patton nodded solemnly. “We lock pinky fingers and make a promise. It’s the most binding promise in the universe.”

Virgil looked at his finger, confused. He’d never heard of that type of deal. “What kind of magic is it?”

“No magic,” Patton said. “Just friendship.” Virgil tilted his head but brought his hand up so Patton could twine their fingers together. “Now, promise you won’t hurt anyone.”

“I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” he said.

“It’s a deal!” said Patton, squeezing Virgil’s finger with his own briefly before drawing away. “I trust you.” Virgil felt a rush of something that was no type of magic he’d ever come into contact before but was definitely far more powerful.

Logan came over to them and waved his hand over the restraints on Virgil. They buzzed slightly and Virgil looked between them. “So, I just hit you with pillows?”

“Try not to hit too hard near the face, and Lo and I should probably take off our glasses before we start, but yeah,” Patton said, taking his glasses off as he said it. It was yet another foolish move on his part. “It’s fun, and it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay…” Virgil said.

“I will demonstrate,” Logan said as he took a pillow and smacked Patton in the stomach.

“Hey! No fair!” Patton giggled. “We haven’t started yet!” This did not deter Logan however, as he continued to smack Patton with a pillow.

“On the contrary,” he said. “It has started, and we’re getting you first.”

“No,” Patton whined, but the way he crumpled to the ground under the onslaught seemed far too staged to make Virgil worry. He didn’t even try to curl up into a ball or protect his head, just taking the hits and giggling.

Logan looked up at Virgil and motioned with his head. Virgil inched over and looked down at Patton. Logan slowed for a few moments. “Go on,” he urged.

Virgil bit his lip and reached forward to smack Patton lightly with his pillow which seemed to do nothing to him but renew his peels of giggles. From there, it was easy to continue. Logan picked up the pace of his strikes and he and Virgil proceeded to ‘fight’ Patton until he couldn’t breathe through his laughter and pushed the pillows away, curling up on his side to recover. Virgil took the cue from Logan to cease their attack.

“Now what?” Virgil asked when Patton sat up.

“Now I get vengeance!” Patton said, popping to his feet and smacking Logan in the face. “Help me Virgil!” So, Virgil turned on Logan and he and Patton gave the prince the same treatment. Then, because it was only fair, it was Virgil’s turn, though they were a lot more careful with him then they’d been with each other, and really Patton spent more of the time checking in on Virgil then actually hitting him with the pillow. It was nice. Fun. And when Virgil pushed them away, they pulled back.

Then, it was Patton’s turn again and they went around teaming up on each other and sometimes just smacking at each other at random.

Eventually, they slowed, and all ended up laying near each other on the floor.

“Well, that made me hungry,” Patton said, sitting up and stretching. “I asked Mama to make us a bunch of mini sandwiches. I’ll go get them.”

He hopped to his feet to walk over to where they’d stored the food earlier in those little glowing magical balls Logan had for food preservation.

Logan and Virgil sat up too, and Virgil offered him his wrists.

“Right,” Logan said with a blink. He made a motion and Virgil could feel the magic weighing down his hands once again. He’d almost forgotten, Virgil thought with an internal sigh. They’d given an assassin free range of motion, had a pillow fight with him, and almost forgotten to restrain him again. What was Virgil going to do with these idiots?

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 15

[stormcrawler75]

if it hasn't been done yet (re the bad things happenbingo) could I ask for either amputation or damaged wing(s) with Remus please? I love what you've done with the prompts so far

Warnings: Amputation, hospitals, diseases, talk of surgery.

Characters: Remus, Patton, mentions of Roman, Logan, Virgil, and Janus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hospitals smelt like absolute, sterilized shit.

Remus couldn’t fucking stand hospitals. Just the smell alone made Remus want to stay far away from hospitals for his entire life. Like, Remus got it. The people who worked there saved lives and the world would probably die without them. But Remus really hated hospitals. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t get enough money? Or that usually only shitty things happened at hospitals? Or maybe because of how many times Remus had been in one recently and he had only gotten shitty fucking news?

Whatever. No matter the reason, hospitals were still at the top of Remus’ shit list at the moment.

Plus, the gowns were itchy. Though, that might just be Remus’ opinion. He currently had one tied around in and was lying in a bed, waiting impatiently for the stupid kiddie clock - which was actually pretty cool because it was shaped like an octopus - hung on the opposite wall to hit three o’clock. Remus was so ready for this to be over with so he could go back home. Roman had promised to make whatever he wanted for dinner when Remus came back and Remus was so craving pancakes with cheese sauce.

Remus sighed and glanced over at his Dad, who was sitting next to him and reading a battered old Highlights magazine. “How much longer,” he whined, giving Patton his best pout. “We’ve been waiting here forever!”

“We’ve been waiting here for two hours, Sweetie,” Patton said gently, putting the magazine down on his knee. He glanced at the clock hanging opposite from them. “Well, it looks like you only got about twenty more minutes to go, Hon. Are you nervous?”

The question had been asked so many times by so many people lately that Remus could barely manage a scoff. “Me? Nervous? Nah, not at all! Hey, it’ll be pretty cool, if you think about it!” He forced a gasp and grabbed Patton’s wrist. “Do you think they’ll film it? Could I watch it later!?”

Patton laughed and shook his head fondly. “I don’t think so, Kiddo. But I’ll ask your doctor, okay? But if we do get it then no showing your siblings, okay? Especially don’t let Virgil catch you watching it, he would have nightmares for weeks. He’s already so worried about today.”

Remus’ jaw clenched at the memory of his two-year-old brother sobbing just a few hours ago and trying to cling to Remus’ hand. Virgil hated hospitals just as much as Remus and, unlike Remus, he didn’t have the maturity and wisdom that Remus had to understand why he hated them or remember just how long he had spent there as a baby. “He doesn’t have any reason to worry,” Remus spat, hating the pit of fear that was growing in his gut. “The doctors said that this is the best option for me and even if I’ll have to do therapy and stuff, I should be just fine.”

“Oh, Honey, he’s only a toddler, he doesn’t understand what’s happening,” Patton said gently, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “All he understands is that his big brother is in pain and is going away to a scary place and is going to come back without one of his legs. He’s much too young to know what osteomyelitis is.”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t even fully understand what this stupid disease is,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. So many people had tried explaining it to him and all Remus fully understood was that some stupid fungi had injected his right leg bone and they had caught it so late that amputation was the only option. “But I know that he shouldn’t be worried. It’ll be fine and he didn’t need to be crying so much. Logan and Roman weren’t crying.”

And, no, Remus wasn’t disappointed that Logan and Roman - old enough to understand what was happening - didn’t cry like Virgil had or looked worried. Not that there was any reason to be worried but it would’ve been nice for them to pretend to be worried!

Patton squeezed his hand again, looking down at him sympathetically. “Trust me, kiddo, they were crying plenty last night. Logan’s been looking up the operation ever since he learnt what you have and Roman is so scared about his twin. They were trying to be strong for you, that’s-”

“But there’s no reason to be worried,” Remus cried, throwing out his arms in frustration. “There isn’t, I’m going to be fine and there’s no reason for anyone to worry!” His eyes were filling with sudden tears and his jaw trembled with the force of keeping them back. “I-I’m gonna come home and annoy everyone a-and t-they don’t need to worry ‘bout me cause I am gonna be f-fine!” He sobbed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, images of all the things that could go wrong flashing through his mind.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward until he was leaning against his dad’s chest. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” Patton cooed, rubbing a hand up and down Remus’ back. “You’re gonna be fine, kiddo.”

“They’re gonna take my leg,” Remus sobbed, gripping Patton’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “D-don’t let them take my leg, don’t let them, Papa!”

“Oh, Kiddo,” Patton sighed, resting his cheek on the top of Remus’ head and holding him close. “Sweetheart, I wish I could stop them from taking your leg. If I could, I’d take this infection and put it in my own leg so you wouldn’t have to lose yours. But I can’t, Sweetie, and I’m so sorry. And I know this is very scary but I’ll be right outside the room the entire time. And I’m going to buy you the best prosthetic that money can buy, I promise.”

Remus sniffled and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up at Patton sadly. “O-one with some design?”

Patton gave him a wobbly smile and nodded, kissing Remus’ forehead. “I’ll buy you two. A plain one and one with any design that you want on it. We’ll do it together, okay baby?”

“Okay,” Remus sniffled, leaning back against Patton and closing his eyes. “...How long now?”

“...Two minutes.”

Remus’ breath hitched and he fought back the urge to vomit. It’d be hilarious but then they’d have to wait even longer for this surgery to take place. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m so scared, Papa.”

“I’ll be right outside the surgery room and I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Patton promised softly, sounding like he was holding back tears. It made Remus want to dig a hole in the ground and cry. He was making his Papa cry. “And as soon as the Doctors say you’re ready, we’ll go home and see your brothers and Uncle Janus, okay?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks.”Okay,” he whispered. He let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“Remus?” The two of them turned to see a Doctor and a Nurse waiting for them. “We’re ready for you.”

Remus glanced at Patton nervously and got a confident smile in return. “You’ll be okay,” Patton said, looking so sure that he might as well had been saying that the sky was blue. “I’ll be right next to you when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus said softly, turning to the Doctor and Nurse. “I’m ready.”

General Taglist

@mooniecoockie

@all-eyes-on-you-forever

@engineering-a-better-world

@hermitcreature

@punsterterry

@iris-sanders-athena

@heck-im-lost

@the-v-gees

@tiredfluid

@sevenatee

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@detroit-become-pan

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

@max-is-tired

@unikornavenger

@amazonprimebox

@emmydragon 

@thegaypasta

@lunareclipse-524

@thepotatoking1010

@bleepblopbloop56

@world-class-izzy 

@violetsandpride

@smolautumnchild

@sanderssmosh-n-musicals

@cookiethedevil

@satanblessi

@figurative-falsehood

@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny

@ao-koshka 

@onenightjoanly

@alsoyouremischievous

@figurative-falsehood

@mrtacothethird 

@analogical-mess

@combine-the-kitchens

@knight-shives

@the-office-cat

@dark-kestrel

@lizziepopanime

@razberrypuck 

@kastrefeila 

@lilcutekittykat

@ladyonce

@penguinpatty1502

@analogical-mess

@incorrectqueereye

@liz-a-belle

@imjustawibba

@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen

@fandoms-winkitywonk

@therubyjailcell

@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

@viva-la-pluto-dam-you

@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

@czcernys

@phander-trash 

@felicianoromano 

@maehemscorpyus

@the-anti-virgil 

@georganabanana

@kaileah-kat 

@omg-rainbowgalxy-things 

@chemically-imbalanced-romance

@just-another-rainbowblog

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@imtooaromaticforthis

@ambersky0319

@th3okamid3mon

@atomicljamm92

@lovebug5151

@shadowsfromthesun

@justpicturesofsam

@fuck-perfection-be-a-mess

@dragonsworn05

@entitydark

@sparkedawg

@luckybanana948

@holliberries

@hell-or-high-waters

@paint-in-flames

@purplepatton

@opaque-puppet

@pearl-topaz

@that-smol-tired-gay

@tired-fanboy

@rachel-eve-puppet 

@the-psycho-pie 

@the-warfstache-of-wall-street

@pastel-puns

@shadowjag

@saphirestrike 

@theatresweetheart

@gatlily

@pastelpatton

@agoddamnrayofsunshine 

@ps-reblogs

@tacohippy56900

@anxious-fander-bean

@winterknight1087

@moonfang03

@that-random-fandom-girl 

@cricks-loves-you

@teacupfulofstarshine

@hetaisawesome

@lilylunalovegood2002

@silverviolin069 

@bubbliee0 

@demigodnamedathena

@donalev

@flix-net

@sos-fandoms

@writingfeedsthedarkestones

@leesacrakon 

@clone-number-1

@ninja-wizard101

@never-end1ng-suffering 

@all-bridges-will-burn

@theresneverenoughfandoms

[swear-like-a-hare]

There Are No Such Things as Ghosts

Someone once commented on the irony that Martin didn’t believe in ghosts, and then he became one. I can’t even remember who, it was so long ago. So that inspired this little piece.

~1500 words

--

The feasting and celebrating the victory of the woodlanders over the Tsarmina eventually gave way to the return of normal life and work, and left Martin in peace to recover. The only visitors that Abbess Germaine and Columbine allowed were Gonff, Timballisto, and Dinny. Mostly, however, they were busy with preparing shelters for everyone in the coming harsh season.

“Here you are, Martin. Drink that.” Columbine handed Martin a very pungent drink, which he had been told was a healing brew of one kind or another.

Martin, having recovered his sense of humor, pulled a face. “No, thank you, I’d rather get better.”

“Now, none of your nonsense.” Columbine lectured good-naturedly, knowing it was all in jest. “Drink that and I’ll see if I can sneak some damson scones with meadowcream past the Abbess.”

“I wish you’d all stop treating me like a dibbun!” Martin pretended to pout.

The young mousewife laughed. “Then stop acting like one!”

Martin reluctantly picked up the beaker of medicine and drained it. He leaned back against the soft cushions that formed his sickbed, and had almost drifted completely off to sleep, when parts of an sweet, longing song drifted through his mind.

“You find me at Noonvale on the side of a hill, when the summer is peaceful and high…”

Immediately he came fully awake and looked around, before finally turning to Columbine. “Was that you just now? Singing?”

She frowned at her friend. “No, it wasn’t me. Maybe I was someone outside?"

“Maybe.” Martin echoed hollow, then leaned back against the pillows once more and looked out the window.

“... ‘Neath the rowan and alder, a vigil I’ll keep... every moment that you are away...”

There are no such things as ghosts.

--

“... Come back to Noonvale again.”

Martin paused his work as the song floated back into his mind. Piecemeal lyrics to a song he once heard, being sung by a voice so sweet that it could charm bees out of their honey.

“Is something the matter, Martin?”

Martin turned to see a hedgehog. A large, friendly creature whose name escaped him. But Martin recognized him as a real Pal, someone he once relied on and trusted. Distantly, Martin recalled that he had to leave him behind... somewhere up north...

Then he shook his head, blinking, and he saw young Coggs. It had been many seasons since Martin’s fight with Tsarmina, and all the young Stickle children had grown into capable young beast.

Coggs was carrying a large pitcher of cold mint tea for the workers to drink from. He paused when he noticed Martin staring at him. He set the pitcher down, obviously concerned. “Are you feeling alright, Martin? You’re not taking another funny turn, are you? Should I get the Abbess?”

Martin just shook his head, trying to smile at Coggs reassuringly. “No, just for a moment I thought you looked like someone I used to know. Funny, I thought I had his name a moment ago, and now it’s gone.”

There are no such things as ghosts.

--

Martin smiled as he watched his godson, aptly called Gonflet by all and sundry, play the little paper birch boat Ben Stickle had made him.

An image passed though Martin’s mind. He was laying on a beach, watching ships on the ocean. There was another mouse there, it must have been his father. He was pointing out the kinds of ships, and explaining to Martin about them, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. They were muffled, as if he were underwater.

“Hullo, Martin! You still in there?’ He heard Gonff say. His words were clear, a stark contrast to his daydream. “Where’d you go off to just then, mate?”

Martin blinked, and realized that Gonff was waving a paw in front of the warrior’s face. Martin brushed Gonff’s paw away, dismissing the memory.

“Oh, just somewhere far away. A long time ago.”

“Next time take me with you.” Gonff joked. “A good matey never lets his friends wander to far, not even in their own thoughts.”

Martin clapped his friend’s shoulder, grinning at him. “Of course, matey. I wouldn’t go anywhere without a good thief!”

There are no such things as ghosts.

--

Martin lay in a sunny meadow, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin, and a gentle summer breeze ruffling his fur. Somebeast sat up beside him, gently shaking him.

“Come on, dozy-bones.” She cajoled playfully. “Or we’ll be late for dinner. There won’t be any deeper’n’ever pie if we arrive after Grumm- oops, I mean, if we get there after Foremole and his crew do.”

“There’s other food.” Martin murmured. “And Brome will save me some. He’s a good friend like that. Best part of being married to you, getting a brother-in-law like Brome.”

She shoved him a little harder, trying to shift him. “Come on, Martin. I’ll leave you here for the mosquitoes if you don’t get a move on.”

Martin sat up with a sigh, as if it were some great thing to move. “Alright. Let’s go, Rose.”

They walked, paw in paw, back the village of Noonvale. Martin commented on the decoration. “Is there some kind of party? What’s going on?”

Rose smiled mischievously. “Why, Martin, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our anniversary?”

Martin froze in his tracks, momentarily confused. “Anniversary? But we got married at the end of autumn. It’s only just midsummer!”

“Not our wedding anniversary.” Rose assured him, and blushed a little as she explained. “It’s, uh… the anniversary of the day we met, or roundabout, all those seasons back.”

“Oh.” Martin smiled at her. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Rose. I think we could use a reason to celebrate. It’s been a bit dull around here.”

“Well it won’t be for much longer.” She teased, and Martin frowned.

“What do you mean. Rose?” He asked. “Is there some kind of trouble?”

She giggled. “No, nothing like that, Martin! I’ll tell you, but I don’t want everybeast knowing it yet.” She gestured for him lean close so she could whisper to him. He did, and as she spoke to him, a wide grin spread slowly across his face. He grasped her eagerly by the paws.

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

Then it all faded away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Martin?” Skipper shook his friend awake. “Martin, you awake?”

“Well I am now.” Martin said blearily. He wiped a paw across his eyes. “What’s going on, Skip?”

“Nothing, we were all about to head back to work. You were talking in your sleep.” Skipper commented.

“Oh, did I say anything interesting?” Martin asked.

Skipper shrugged. “It seemed like you were talking to somebeast called Rose. Couldn’t make out anything besides that. Does the name mean anything to you?”

Martin thought. “I must have known her once. I think was dreaming about her."

Skipper looked more concerned, now that they were away from other beasts. “Yes, well, there was another reason I woke you up. You were starting to cry a little. Oh, don’t worry, it was just the odd tear. But I know you’re a private beast when it comes to things like that.”

Martin’s paw flew to his face. It was indeed a little damp. “Hm. The dream I had. It’s mostly faded now, but I remember I felt so happy. Don’t know why I’d be crying.”

“Maybe a memory of something you lost?” Skipper suggested quietly. “You said that’s happened afore.”

Martin shook his head slowly. “No, I think this was more a memory of what might have happened. Wish I remembered more of it. Maybe then I could remember why it’d make me sad.”

There are no such things of ghosts.

--

Martin stood on the northern shores his family had once called home, and marched determinedly across the sand dunes, toward where the tall apparitions had disappeared.

“There are no such things as ghosts.“ He called over his shoulder to his friends. Not real ones, anyways.

Just the ones that haunted him.

--

“There are no such things as ghosts.” Gonff repeated mockingly. “That’s exactly what you said, matey. “There are no such things as ghosts.” Everyone heard it.”

“I know what I said, Gonff.” Martin replied. He’d heard this comment a lot about this lately from his friends, all in jest. “You don’t have to keep reminding me. And they weren’t ghosts after all, were they?”

“That’s not the point.” Goff retorted. “You said that there were no such blooming thing as ghosts, now you’re a jolly old ghost yourself! Can’t you appreciate the irony, mate?”

“I’ll appreciate my footpaw on your backside if’n you don’t shut up!” Martin whispered hoarsely. “Now, are you going to help me get Bella’s son free or not?”

Gonff immediately became serious. “Alright, mate. What’s the plan?”

“If you’d have been paying attention, you would have noticed that I already told you the plan.” Martin said patiently. “But I’m not telling you a third time, so pay attention. You remember that young kestrel we saw before? Well, when you were jawing on, he got himself frozen to that pine over there, poor creature…”

[writefinch]

The Prince’s Offering, Pt.2 (”Historical,” bondage, harems)

The Prince, the Brigand and the gift followed their host through to a sitting area, and all three visitors sat down on plush cushions indicated to by their host, though Thom had to guide the woman-gift into place, grabbing her chest roughly as he pushed her down.

Davai looked around and took in his surroundings. A low, square table, barely an inch off the floor, occupied the center of the room, with four plush cushions placed around it, upon which the three visitors and their host currently sat. The table was laid out with a selection of pastries, fruits and sweetmeats, as well as a heated bronze pot for the decanting of tea.

The floors were strewn with fine rugs and more cushions, and upon some of those cushions lazed serving girls, bronze skin visible under impossibly sheer gauze, their necks, wrists and fingers weighed down with a fortune's each of intricate jewelry. They all seemed in possession of an ethereal beauty unlike anyone the young lord had ever seen, and when one glanced his way with the briefest of sultry smiles, Davai felt his cheeks glow pink.

In one far corner a small pool was recessed into the floor with a gauze-clad attendant lounging beside it, in another corner was a set of bookshelves where one girl perused a scroll by lamplight, and the back of the room on a raised dais sat an empty throne, flanked by four hounds on each side.

As Davai peered at the dais, he realized that it was not a true throne, and they were not true dogs. The throne was a frame, empty underneath the seat and strewn with scraps of fabric, and the dogs were cast-iron statues with golden engraving, draped in many layers of the same gauze that the serving girls wore. It did not take a scholar of the arts to adduce the meaning of this display: The Old Duke had overseen eight fiefdoms, each ruled by a Lord Knight, and the symbol of the knights was a black wolf. In the Mughal display, the Old Duke's throne was hollow and worthless, his proud wolves were dogs and whores, and they would be nothing more than a near-forgotten backdrop to a new age of Imperial rule.

Finally, his eyes settled on his host. He was a man of Turkish stock, roughly two-score years of age, with a square jaw, a full moustache, and a day's growth of stubble across the rest of his face that did nothing to hide the thick white scar on his chin. He was tall, with several inches on Thom and a full foot over Davai, and carried himself with the bearing of a fighting man. His eyes were warm and his smile warmer, and Davai watched as the man bought a cup of hot tea to his lips and sipped at it, before setting the tea down and looking right at him.

"Heated floors," blurted Davai, and felt profoundly stupid for having done so. Their host chuckled graciously.

"Indeed, heated floors. Technology of the ancients, something the General had fitted into this castle by one of the finest engineers of Persia. Water is heated in a great vessel elsewhere in the castle and carried by pumps to an intricate series of pipes underneath the tiles, and a web of chimneys within the walls pulls away sweltering air and foul humors. Rather ingenious," he said, before furrowing his brow, "though of course this keep was never built with such a thing in mind, hence the damnable whistling. Pasha, play a tune for us."

Davai's ears perked up, and he could still hear the shrill cries of the vents until one of the serving girls placed a wooden flute to her lips and began to play. A soft, calming tune carried forth, and it seemed to have been composed in a manner that utterly masked the noise underneath.

"Thank you, my dear," said the man. "Now, Thom, I have met you before, yes?"

"You have sir, indeed," replied Thom. "I was delivering tithes from some of the nearby holdings, and you were receiving them. An honour to meet you again, sir."

"And a pleasure to see you, sirrah. Would you do me the favour of introducing your employer?"

Thom nodded. "I present to you Lord Davai of the line Kestrel, representative of the Houses of the Amber Plains, next in line to the Barony of East Barleycorn."

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Davai. My name is Sir Karim the Acquirer, and I am a... hm, how would I say... a scrivener, yes, a scrivener for the Great Empire."

"A pleasure in kind, Sir Karim," said Davai.

"Mhmm." Karim opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. "As we are to conduct our business on behalf of the Great Empire, the necessary ritual must be undertaken beforehand," he said, lifting his robes enough to stand up before pointing to a clear patch of rug beside the table. "From this spot, Karakorum lies in the direction of the pool."

Davai said and did nothing for a moment until he was poked in the ribs by Thom, who did not even have to mouth the word before Davai remembered the need to kow-tow. The three men each took kneeling positions facing east and touched their foreheads to the ground repeatedly in the correct display of respect, with both Thom and Davai making two more bows than Karim. With the ritual complete they returned to the table, where Karim bade them to eat.

They partook of crisp apple slices dipped in honey, black bread slathered in butter, almond sweets filled with pomegranate jam and strong black tea while Karim made light conversation. They spoke of the approaching harvest, of the last and next tournaments, of the advances in astronomy, and of playing companies.

Karim placed his empty teacup on the table, and a serving girl refilled it the moment he loosed his grip on it. He paid her no mind, and looked across at Davai instead. "I understand you have traveled some distance to join us here. How was your journey?"

"It was a straightforward one," said Davai carefully. "The new roads are smooth, and there is no worry of bandits." He aimed to acknowledge the benefits of Imperial rule, but was keen to avoid overt fawning.

"Yes, mhm. And, Lord Davai, might I ask why you have traveled all this way? As smooth and safe as our roads are, I assume you did not come all this way to merely test them."

Lord Davai fought the overwhelming urge to swallow and instead cleared his throat, but could not avoid nervously brushing a curl of hair out of his face. "Baron Vadim has sadly passed away, and as he was tragically bereft of heirs, some of his holdings stand to be inherited by the Houses of the Amber Plains. A great many of his holdings, in fact, and though the Great Empire graciously consented to oversee the Amber Plains in their stead in exchange for fealty and fair tithe, they did not offer such consent with holdings twice that size in mind.

"In light of this change, we wish to reaffirm our loyalty, to demonstrate our awe and fear of Imperial might, to give our gratitude for the Great Empire's mercy, to offer new gifts and tribute in line with our resources, and to beg counsel on the Great Emperor's desires in how his holdings should be overseen, should he deign to allow us to continue our stewardship." Now he swallowed, and quickly sipped tea to sate his suddenly dry mouth.

With a broad smile, Karim nodded. "Well, I cannot speak to everything you have mentioned yet, but I can say this: the Houses of the Amber Plains have made a wise choice in sending a well-intentioned emissary. Had every noble in every city in my homeland made the same choice in light of the Grand Empire's overtures..." He trailed off, and then grinned darkly. "Suffice to say there would be a great many more cities remaining in my homeland."

Davai nodded. "It behooves us to learn from the folly of others, and never more so than when the cost of folly is so dear."

"Indeed," said Karim, and there was a momentary and uncomfortable lull in the conversation. Davai looked to Thom for counsel, and the ruffian looked at him and then to the scroll case by his side.

Clearing his throat again, Davai held up the scroll case. "Sir Karim, I bear a written pledge of fealty from the Houses of the Amber Plains, alongside details of our holdings, and a new offer of tribute."

"My deepest thanks, Lord Davai," said Karim, taking the case. He called over the serving girl by the bookshelves and lectern, who took it from him in turn. "I will review it with our scriveners in due time."

Davai looked nervously to his companion once more and then said, "We would also humbly offer some gifts, as the Great Empire has shown us favour by simply offering this meeting." He looked to the bound girl, loaded with bags and boxes like a beast of burden, and felt a cold stab of regret, but continued nonetheless. "With your consent, Sir Karim, I would ask Thom to present these gifts."

Karim laughed warmly. "It would be my pleasure and honour to receive your gifts on behalf of the Emperor. Please, proceed."

"Yes," said Davai, wiping some of the sweat from his brow that had appeared from the warmth of the room. "Thom, sirrah, if you would."

With a flourish, Thom the Brigand unstrapped a finely-carved cypress box from the woman-gift, flipped it open, and began to display the contents.

"Among the first box of gifts is an engraved silver tin filled with a powder of mushrooms and antimony which is known to induce waking dreams, an enameled brooch which was made by the Gauls in ancient times, an alchemical treatise on that which can create a solution of gold, a relic of Saint Peter..."

Thom continued in this vein for some time, methodically displaying the contents of the dozen-odd containers attached to the woman-gift until she was bound but unburdened. He displayed jewels and gems, potions and tinctures, ancient heirlooms and war trophies, spirits infused with the essence of cherries, lambskin-bound tomes filled with painstakingly translated works from the Ancient Romans, old and secret maps.

The collection had been pulled together over months at great expense, and had already led to strife and bloodshed between the noble houses. A dark grin almost spread across Davai's face at the thought: such a collection would pale against the curiosities room of a moderately successful merchant of Mesopotamia, and to the Mughals these items would mean little more than children's toys.

Karim watched the display with mild interest, and clapped his palms together at the conclusion. "Lord Davai, I am an honest man, and I eschew mistruth wherever my fealty does not demand it," he said, "so I am afraid you must know this: my masters will most likely treasure the spirits more than anything else in this collection."

"I cannot fault their taste," said Davai wryly, "I am rather partial to them myself."

A belly-laugh from Karim carried around the room. "Quite so! In truth, you have provided one gift without knowing it--you have outdone several local rulers who claim more wealth than your noble houses but delivered a more impoverished offering than this. Such knowledge may earn favour with my masters, though I am not sure it will help your popularity among the wider local nobility, and as I said before, they will be glad to indulge in your spirits!"

Thom openly leered at a serving girl as she brushed pastry crumbs away from Karim's lap, and licked his lips. "I can think of some things they would prefer to indulge in."

"Yes, you spoke of them at great length on the journey here," said Davai acidly. "I'm not sure there is a single foul desire in your heart that didn't pass your lips over the course of the week."

Thom glared at him contemptuously. "I beg your pardon then, had I known you were not a noble lordling but instead a novice from the abbey, I would have been more circumspect."

"Address me as my station demands, brigand!"

Thom bared his teeth for a moment, and then muted his expression. "I apologize, Lord Davai. I spoke out of place."

"Yes. Remember that place, Thom the Brigand, or I will remember to make you remember."

They stared at each other for a moment before a noise returned them to their surroundings, and they both looked to see Karim snickering at them. Thom coughed awkwardly, and Davai's guts twisted with embarrassment. "My dear guests, please," said Karim, gesturing grandly, "I am keenly aware of the boredom and stresses inherent to long journeys. I implore you to accept a neck massage from the serving girls, you will feel like new men afterwards." He snapped his fingers. "Tabitha, Bahar, Mido, if you would."

Before he finished speaking, three serving girls appeared and slunk behind the men. Davai could not help but give a start as he felt soft hands on his shoulders, a gentle breath in his ear, and warm bosoms pressed against his back.

"I am Bahar, my lord," purred the girl, in a thick Persian accent. "May I begin your massage?"

Thoughts of continence, piety, and guilt swirled within Davai, and he froze. "Ah--"

"Dear guests," groaned Karim, already enjoying his massage, his voice so deep it was almost a croak, "my delightful girls are skilled beyond reproach, and they will take care of you completely. Take any offer from them as freely you would from me."

Davai did not need to be reminded to accept all and any hospitality from their host. He turned his head until he could see Bahar's veiled face out of the corner of his eye. "Yes--" he swallowed, "--yes, you may begin."

With a soft giggle, she ran her palms along the width of his shoulders, pressed, and Davai felt a shiver of warmth quite unlike anything he had felt before. Fingers played over his muscles and the sensation grew stronger still, a buzz of pleasure that seemed to both relieve his muscles and invigorate them. He bit his lip, stifling the urge to moan, but as he noticed Karim's contented humming and some kind of... gurgling coming from Thom, he let out a coo of delight and fell back into Bahar's skilled hands.

Pleasure mixed with pain in a way that seemed to intensify both at once as she worked her thumbs over a spot by his shoulder blade. "Were you injured, lord?" she murmured in his ear.

"Mhm." He had closed his eyes without even realizing it. "A jousting tourney."

Her lips brushed his ear for the briefest of moments, and he felt it glow red with heat. "Do you joust, lord?"

He nodded, his neck feeling unusually smooth as he did so. "Poorly."

The girl giggled and resumed her work. Davai worried that he would fall asleep, but as the massage continued the deep relaxation turned into something light and springy, and he felt more awake than he had done in several days at least. He opened his eyes again to take a drink of tea, which another girl had refilled at some point, and saw the two other men with dazed, slack expressions. Karim wore it well, appearing deeply contented, but it made Thom look quite demented.

As the three men roused from their dazed states, they each found their eyes drawn to the one person sitting at the table who did not have a serving girl behind them. Karim looked upon the woman-gift and observed, "I have travelled far and wide, but I do not recognize this breed of pack mule you have brought along."

"Mhm!" Thom jolted himself to attention. "Sir Karim, I lost myself so deeply in displaying the gifts she carried that I missed one gift entirely. She is to be yours, to serve the Great Empire in whatever way is most pleasing."

Karim appeared to mull this over. "I see. Might I ask who she is?"

"Her name is Justyna, and she is the fairest and most beautiful woman in all our lands," said Davai. The sensations of the massage could not touch the hollowness he felt inside as he spoke, and he hoped at least that the hollowness had not crept into his tone.

"A delight indeed, then." Karim ate a slice of apple, and then said, "I admit, such a heavy veil had me expecting something rather plain. Might I gaze upon her?"

With a nod, Thom moved behind the bound woman and untied the ropes that fixed the veil to her head. He removed the veil without ceremony, and returned to his seat. He grinned, Davai felt something ache inside his chest, and Karim beamed at the sight.

The sweat on her brow nor the tears on her cheeks nor the grease in her hair could detract from her beauty. Her eyes were a pale blue, her cheeks full and dotted with freckles, her copper-red hair was soft as any silk, and she had an unearthly air to her, like a captured nymph. She remained silent; a second, smaller gag had been underneath the cleave gag formed by the veil and rope the entire time. This gag was formed of two pilfered silken handkerchiefs, one balled up and stuffed between her lips, the other wrapped around her head and mouth to keep the first in place. Unbeknownst to all but the woman and Thom the Brigand, the handkerchief in her mouth had been doused liberally with Thom's male seed before being forced between her lips. She stared forward into space, exhausted on every level.

For the first time since the meeting began, Karim appeared genuinely impressed. "A true beauty indeed," he said softly. "Pray tell, is she of noble birth?"

Davai shook his head. "There are many striking noblewomen in the Houses of the Amber Plains, but none so enchanting as her."

"I see." Karim straightened up and looked directly at Davai. "I must inform you, if you intend to give this woman over as a gift, she will be received as a slave."

Davai opened his mouth to speak, but Karim held up a hand. "I beg you, heed me well before you speak further. To sell a slave is one matter, but to gift someone into slavery is another matter entirely. It is the custom of my people that before a slave can be given away, the giver must be wholly aware of what such slavery will entail."

For a moment Davai said nothing, and then he nodded. "What, then, would such a thing entail, Sir Karim?"

"The first detail is that she will become a serving girl for a harem. This is without question. The second detail is that this will require training and induction, both of which will be severe and intensely taxing. The third detail is that any serving girl--but especially one of such beauty--may be bartered on to another harem. She might never see her homeland again." Karim sipped his tea, set it down, and continued. "Finally, I counsel you to ask the girls how they became part of the harem. If your Justyna becomes a slave, her experience may be different in the detail, but not in the broad strokes."

The hollow feeling grew stronger, but Davai willed himself to push it down inside him. He heard a high giggle, and looked at the serving girl who had draped herself over Karim's shoulders. "Lord Davai, I am Tabitha,” she said. “Would you like to know how I became a serving girl?"

(Part 3 here: https://writefinch.tumblr.com/post/641949398777102337/the-princes-offering-pt3-cn )

[irrfahrer]

"Ziv... I think I have a fever..." he told her as he came home that evening from his shift in the hangar. The planet was cold but that couldn't be it; they've been here for several weeks and Poe had been fine. Now his cheeks were red and his eyes glossy as he sat at the table, laying his head on it missrably, pressing hus heated cheek to the cool table.

His scent was different. The second Poe had stepped into the room, Ziv had been alerted with her ears jolted up and her back as straight as a bow while she trie dto figure out why Kestrel smelled differently. She had spend most of the day preparing the herbs that she had collected outside of the starharbour- freeing the of the permafrost and slowly thawning them up not too fast or else the plants cells would be ripped appart and not too slow or the plants would start to mold before she could continue working with them. Still, although Ziv had been focused working for hours until her back was as stiff as a broad and her neck creaked like a old tree when she moved it, when Poe sat down by the table that drowned under the weight of cleaned and now in the warmth of the room drying plants, Ziv promptly looked up and shoved a few rustling roots to the side for him to have enough room to lay down his head on the table. Without wasting a single second the woman hopped off her chair and with skirts rustling, walked to his side to have a closer look at his sympthomes. In the room hung the scent of the herbs heavy like a blanket but between that, barely noticeable there was something else, something sour and nauseating that had alerted Ziv before without her even noticing what exactly it was.

She pressed her small muzzle against the mans forehead, her lips brushing against his skin that was hot and damp beneath as if his blood was broiling. There was a quiet rustling when the young woman moved her head to the side, nuzzling her small pink nose in the crook of the mans nap that was hot, almost boiling hot and took a deep sniff: There was the scent of burned ozone from the work in the Hangar that had sticked to him like a aftershave, there was the scent of muddled water from the snow, and eventually there as a sharp scent that stitched into her nose like a needle- the sour scent of sickness drenched sweat.

“...Yeh,you are hot.”, she mumbled against his neck more to herself than to him as she started to go in her head through the possibilities what sickness he had caught and how she should at best treat the sympthomes  adjusted to his physic. It was this moment in which the former AgriCorps member  loathed the fact that she did not knew on which planet the other was born on, after all the adjustment his physics made to his homeplanet and the sicknesses and allergics on this planet could not be changed even after thirteen years on Coruscant and not knowing about this details left a strange worry in Ziv everytime she treated Kestrels injuies or sickness like a cloth that pulled tighter and tighter around her neck with every other time she looked after the man. A second to late the young woman noticed what exactly she had said and promptly she straightend her back and her paw shot forward, pinching the mans ear just hard enough to be as annoying as she aimed to be when she groaned dramatically: “Nooooo, I did not mean it that way, do not even think of grinning, I mean it! You have a kriffing fever!” Her paw slided from Kestrels ear through his hair gently, while Ziv already went in her head through the next steps- get him to rest, watch his sympthomes, lower his fever with cold legwraps and a Nyssillin- ticture, give him enough liquid at best tea with antiseptic honey, give him something to eat so his body has enough strenght to fight the infection as best something light and also feverlowering like ice-mushroom-soup, keep him warm.... The knowledge of what to do was a routine as the young woman had treated already many sick people and especially humanoids and the routine gave her comfort and she nodded, her ears pinned back in determination and her voice more stern with professionalism.

“Alright, lets get you in bed-”, Ziv gently pinched the mans ear, this time so softly as if he was made of glass: “-I know, you love that sentences, but today I just mean kriffing bed. You need to rest and I will cook you some sweet tea, wrap you up in some kriffing blankets and make you cold legwraps. Does that sound good, hm?” Quietly she stepped to Kestrels side and wrapped a arm around his back to steady him when he would stand up again- Ziv was small, barely reaching up to Poes chest, but she was strong and the other would not be the first patient she had to carry when walking as she had already half carried clone troopers out of battes into sickbays when she had been a thirteen-year-old cub in the CLone Wars. Though she hoped she did not had to carry him for that would mean he was far more sick than she prayed him not to be: “Come, up! I will steady you.”

[ @poewingsdameron ]

[post-itpenny]

Nine in the Afternoon

The next part is here at long last!

Geeze this got really long.

@grotesquegabby @clownsgobeepbeep because so many of yours are here. I hope I got everyone’s reactions to things correct. uwu

Eight was a lot of people Vespers had to admit. But it seemed rather appropriate considering who it all was.

When Vespers announced he wanted to go to Blackwood’s home and get Magpie he wasn’t surprised Maggie wanted to come, and was grateful Juno volunteered. 

But then nearly everyone else offered to come. 

To see so many people worried for Magpie or missing her honestly made Vespers start to cry, Cosmos holding his hand tightly has he did so.

Why would she leave when she had so many friends that cared about her?

They all met at the observatory. It was decided that one group would stay to care for the little ones while the other group went together.

This was something Vespers’ grandfather insisted on. Go as a group rather than alone.

Kestrel had been the last of Vespers’ immediate family to visit the elder. Passing along a small box to Juno who went to see him.

“The planet changes according to his whim. I can’t say what it may look like now but remember to be polite. He doesn’t like conflict but still should not be angered.”

Vespers and Juno looked at the little box, it didn’t seem to be anything special however their grandfather had instructed not to open it until they were ready to leave. 

Vespers looked around at all the people currently in his home. He wanted it laugh, any other day he would think they had come together for a party. 

Cosmos clasped a had on his shoulder, “You good Vesp?”

The moth nodded, ignoring the anxiety that was curling around in his stomach. “Cosmos this just isn’t like her. She promised to be home three days ago. I just don’t understand.”

But it was more than that, it wasn’t like Magpie to just leave without a goodbye, just Blackwood passing along the message through his father who was the last to be visited. 

“Tell Honey and Brie to watch the house and not overfeed Trouble. Back in three days.”

She didn’t even say goodbye to him, she didn’t really say goodbye to anyone.

Why.

Maggie stood in the corner of the room whispering intently with Billy. Vespers watched them curiously, what could they be talking about?

Soon they stepped outside. Vespers, Juno, and Maggie were going along with Billy, Pepper, Cecilio, James, and Alex.

Eight people seems like a lot. But perhaps there was safety in numbers.

As they stepped out the door Calliope quietly pulled Maggie  aside. 

“Listen please,” she whispered to her. “Blackwood is not a violent creature by any means but still be cautious. He is very… he can be a lot to deal with. And clever, he’s more shrewd than one would think.”

Maggie nodded, arms wrapped tight around her waist. Calliope had wanted to come and to be honest they would have all felt better if she had. But in her condition it was not wise. Plus trouble between elders could mean trouble for everyone.

“One more thing,” she quickly added. “He and Bridgette… has she told you?”

“Told me what?”

Calliope sighed, “let’s just say there is history.”

Vespers took a steadying breath and looked back at Cosmos who stood at the door with the others. Cradling Phoebe who was peeking out of her blankets as she watched her moth-father with large eyes.

Vespers opened the box.

It was a key. A plain looking key.

“Whelp, I can tell right now this is going to be stupid.” Juno sighed as she picked the key up from the box.

A set of gates appeared.

Vespers jumped back in surprise. The gates were tall and made of curling wrought iron. The top adorned with metal thistles instead of more traditional spikes.

The gate was unlocked.

“Look it’s stupid. Why the hell-“

“Juno!”

“Why the heck have a fancy set of gates appears that are unlocked?”

“Maybe picking up the key unlocked it?” Pepper offered. 

Juno rolled her eyes but said nothing, reaching out to grab Pepper’s arm. “We’ll go in groups since we can’t all go through at once. Vespers you want to go first or me?”

“I will,” Maggie insisted.

Billy frowned and stepped in front of her, “maybe you should stay. I’m sure-“

“I’m going and I’m going first.” Maggie insisted. 

Billy held onto her hand and followed her through the gate. The last thing either of them saw being the observatory doorway filled with their friends and family.

Maggie walked through darkness. Aware she still had a hold of Billy’s hand who had sped of his pace so they could be side by side. Behind them came Alex’s voice:

“Marco!”

“Polo!” Maggie called back.

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

“Mar- oof! Cool here you are.” Alex chuckled as he crashed into the couple. 

They were at some invisible wall. They all crowded around. Not finding any way around it. 

“Damn this place is dark even for me,” Alex observed. “Who’s got a light?”

“I gotcha.” Cecilio announced as he struck a match. 

Maggie stifled a laugh which, the other’s turning to her in confusion.

Maggie giggled “whose not dead, sound off.”

Vespers rolled his eyes, Pepper laughed, James was extremely confused.

“But none of us are dead?”

“Just don’t worry about it man,” Vespers signed, turning to look up at what they had run into.

It was a set of doors, towering and covered in thistle flowers, live ones.

How were they growing here?

Juno reaches out and knocked.

The doors swung wide open, bright light spilling  forth forcing them to close their eyes. 

There were sounds: screaming, running….

Laughter?

Vespers opened his eyes. Gapping at the scene before him in shock.

Behind him the other’s gasped, someone whistled.

Pepper blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. “What the fuck?”

They stood on top of a tall hill, looking down on a massive carnival, one that seemed to span for miles and off into the distance.

Blackwood’s planet was one giant carnival.

They walked down the hill on a path surrounded by deep purple thistles that swayed in the breeze. The weather was bright and sunny but not two hot, clouds forming the shapes of different animals. 

As they entered the carnival a manger of all beings moved to and fro from booth to booth to ride. Some were human or human like, others alien-looking in features. None of them seemed to notice the newcomers

Cecilio’s stomach growled, the smell of Joy was so strong, Pepper’s stomach growled for and different reason.

“Cake!” He cheered as he ran to a booth piled high with every type of cake one could imagine. He grabbed a nearby plate and immediately began to pile on slice after slice before Alex pulled him away. 

“Hang on there buddy. Pretty sure all the sugar here will jack you up.”

Pepper frowned, “but-”

“No he’s right,” Cecilio stated. “Look at the people here.”

Pepper looked around him. Everyone looked like they were having a great time. Talking and laughing as they explored the carnival. Pepper watched a woman walk up to the candy apple stall across from them. Taking one of the tasty treats from an unseen hand and leaving without paying.

Huh…

The group observed the people around them. Big smiles on their faces but their eyes blank. Two people ran into each other and didn’t even notice in their rush to get to different destinations. 

“It’s not quite right is it?” Billy observed. “Half the sounds that should be here are missing. Where are the crying children or their tired parents? Where are the swindlers and pickpockets? I also would have expected to see someone vomiting after riding that.” He said as he pointed his cane at a monster of a roller coaster at the end of the isle. Billy gave a small smile, “though it does look like fun.”

Maggie watched as the coaster did loop after loop, “yeah it really does.... One ride?”

Billy looked at the line that never seemed to hold up in its smooth flow of putting people on the ride. A standard warning sign was placed at the entrance like some afterthought.

Billy frowned, “no perhaps not.”

Maggie pouted and looked back to the cake stand Pepper still gazed after longingly. 

“Hey Vesp?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember The Goblin Market?”

“The what?”

“We must not look at goblin men,

We must not buy their fruits:

Who knows upon what soil they feed their hungry thirsty roots?”

The group turned to quiet James in surprise. He cleared his throat, “I’ve read it before.”

Maggie shrugged, “Magpie said it was about not talking to strangers.”

Billy smirked, “it's about temptation but yes also strangers I suppose.”

“Magpie read you that?”

Did you say Magpie?”

They turned. Surprised to find two clowns walking towards them. The smaller one was wearing an over-sized sweater that covered half their face save for their cat-like eyes and a puff of curly blue hair. They held the hand of a taller clown. She wore a short pink dress with an over-sized sweater as well. Her pink hair tied up into two buns and across her ears and face were several piercings. She smiled and pulled the shorter clown along with her towards the group.

“Hey there name’s Cecelia, this here is little Risby. Say hi Risby.”

Risby waved their hand in greeting but said nothing, looking up at Vespers and Juno specifically. Risby tugged on Cecilia’s sleeve and pointed to Vesper’s white hair. Cecilia smiled. “Risby wants to know if you’re related to Mr. B?

Vespers blinked “Mr. B? Uhh, you mean Blackwood? Yeah he’s our elder.”

Cecilia grinned and, to Vespers surprise, pulled him into a hug. She turned and hugged Juno, only Juno was much taller than Cecilia leaving to hug Juno around the stomach. 

“This is so cool! Geeze the old guy is gonna do somersaults he's gonna be so excited. Risby go find Mr. B. and tell him!”

Risby nodded and ran off into the crowd. Cecilia turning back and looking up at Juno who stared down at her rather speechless. 

“So you’re here to see Magpie? She’s so, so great.”

Maggie perked up, “so you do know her then?”

Cecilia nodded with a grin, “oh yeah she’s like, really popular here. C’mon I think I know where to find her.”

They followed Cecilia through the crowd. Juno watching her closely as she followed along like a lost puppy. Alex leaned towards Juno with a chuckle. “She’s certainly fun to watch leave, you know what I mean?”

Juno turned bright red and shoved him, “sh-shut up.”

Vespers jogged to catch up with Cecilia. “So do you work for Blackwood? Or live here?”

Cecilia smiled, “yeah yeah it’s both. Risby is my tiny sibling, we needed a place to call home and Mr. B. gave it to us. I’m the official groundskeeper around here,” she proudly stated. 

They rounded a corner to find a large crowd cheering, and the familiar sound of snapping fingers.

Vespers’ heart leaped into his throat. He pushed through the crowd but stopped short, the others stumbling to a stop behind him.

Pepper’s eyes widened, “is that her?”

The woman in the center of the crowd looked nothing short but like a rainbow that had exploded. The locks of her hair were each a different color, her dress a mess of ruffles and different hues, she turned and looked at them with bright blue eyes.

Magpie gasped in surprise, as if not really believing that she was looking at her family and friends. But then:

“Hey chica! Look at you all stylin!”

Magpie grinned, “Alexander!” She shouted in joy as she ran forward and crashed into the party clown with a hug. Magpie laughed as turned towards her niece and nephew and hugged them tightly as well. “Oh my dear ones. My sweet little bugs I can’t believe it!”

Vespers and Juno hugged their aunt tightly, running fingers through her hair and holding her face all three starting to cry.

Maggie stood aside with a sad smile and watched, Billy stood next to her with an arm wrapped around her shoulders. He gave Maggie a pointed look but she shook her head.

Cecelio came up next to them, scratching his head in confusion. “So what's going on?”

Maggie looked up at him with a sigh, “this is what Magpie used to look like. I remember her looking like this as a kid.”

James shook his head in disbelief, “she mentioned being locked up but- I must ask, how long?”

Maggie frowned, “a very long time.” 

Magpie turned and greeted the others with hugs and laughter, her smile like warm light she seemed so alive. She stopped at last before Maggie, pulling her into a hug. 

“My little poppy flower why are you crying?”

Maggie sobbed into Magpie’s shoulder, hugging her tight. 

“I’ve missed you so much!” Maggie cried. Her tears staining Magpie’s colorful dress. “And I’ve just really needed to talk to you about things.”

“Magpie smiled and smoothed Maggie’s hair, “I’m here now my darling. What’s wrong?”

Maggie took a gulp of air to calm herself, “I-

“What’s all this about crying then hmm?”

They looked up. Blackwood stood atop a cable car that was passing over them. He leaped gracefully into the air, touching down with ease. Magpie smiled and moved to stand with him.

“Risby told me there were visitors! How wonderful! Look at this! Why Vespers and Juno long time no see!” Blackwood laughed as he pulled the two into a hug before turning to the others. “You must be one of the D’Vitts! Sorry I could not meet the new father but I’m simply delighted to get to say hello!” Blackwood greeted as he vigorously shook Pepper’s hand. Pepper himself relieved he was not pulled into a bone-crushing hug like the others. 

Blackwood seemed to like everyone immediately. Greeting James in a way that put him at ease and sharing cheesy jokes with Cecilio right away. He turned to Alex with a look of surprised. “Well goodness me, I must say you take quite a bit after your father don’t you my boy?

For once, Alexander’s signature smile dropped just slightly, “so you know my old man?”

Blackwood chuckled, “well of course I do. Chap certainly knows how to keep things lively though if I’m honest I think he and I have different ideas on a good time.”

The smile returned, Alex gave a short nod “cool.”

Blackwood shook hands with Billy, the two tipping top hats to each other. Then at last came to the short redhead. His smile faltering slightly.

“Hello,” Maggie greeted.��

“Hello there my dear,” Blackwood gave in kind. “Might I ask what your name might be?”

“It’s Maggie sir, I’ve come to bring my mother home.”

Magpie grew still, eyes wide. Vespers smiled and even Juno have a shrug with the smallest smirk.

“Did you now?” Blackwood asked, “I must say you put together quite a party to do so.”

Maggie shook her head, “no sir that was Vespers and Juno. But a lot of people were really worried with her gone for so long.”

Magpie smiled, “It’s only been maybe three days.”

James frowned, “Magpie it's been five.”

Magpie gasped in surprise, a look of horror passed over her face, “A week! Oh no the girls! Are they alright? How is my dog? What's been happening?”

Magpie turned to Billy in panic, clutching his sleeve. “Honey and Brie are they okay? I didn’t mean to leave them a whole week! Have you spoken with them?”

Billy placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, “they’re alright Magpie. They just miss you, from my understanding so does your puppy.” 

Magpie gripped her hair in panic. “Oh no, oh no. I’m so sorry I-”

“Hey now it’s alright, no need to panic my dear.” Blackwood reassured her with a calm smile. “Everyone loses track of time, may I suggest this: Tonight we shall all have dinner together and then if you wish then yes you can go home. In the meantime why not show our guests around? There is something here for everyone after all.”

“B-But the girls! I need to-“

“Tut, tut! I shall see you all soon!” With a dramatic bow Blackwood was gone in an explosion of confetti.

Juno looked to her worried aunt, then to the confetti on the ground, then shrugged. “Whelp, if you’re ready to go then lets go.”

Vespers frowned and checked his pockets, “Juno do you have the key?”

Alex smirked, “key or no key it's all good moth man. We’ll just pop over to the next planet and-”

Alex was gone in a snap, only to reappear one foot away from where he had previously stood.

The part clown frowned, “not cool. So guess we do need the key then, huh.”

Cecelia grinned, “this planet sits in a locked pocket dimension, no teleporting without boss man’s permission.”

Juno frowned, “well, that's an ass move.”

Cecelia whipped around to Juno, eyes blazing. “Excuse you bitch have some respect.” 

The pink haired clown stormed off leaving Juno stricken. “Oh no,” she groaned.

Vespers shook his sister’s shoulder, “hey Juno? Hey what's up, talk to me Juni.”

Juno gave another defeated groan, “she’s hot.”

They were left with no choice but to go to Blackwood’s home and ask for a new gate key. As they walked Magpie did end of playing tour guide as requested of her. Pointing out different rides and attractions. People saying hello to her as they passed. Vespers watched his aunt as she gushed about a ride she herself had made. Something he could only describe as five ferris wheels circling each other. Magpie looked so happy as she shared with them the world she had been staying in for the past week. Vespers frowned, what if she didn’t want to come home? Would it be right to make her?

Soon they arrived at a tall set of stairs that lead to a shining castle. Vespers choked back a laugh. His family lived in a ruin pretending to be important yet here was the real deal. 

In the entry hall stood Blackwood gazing up at a large golden tree, he turned in surprise at their arrival. 

“Oh is the tour over already? I can have Cecelia show you on a tour of the castle next if you would like?”

Magpie stood tall, “actually Blackwood I was hoping-”

“I’m here!” Cecelia shouted with Risby in tow, “what I miss? Whats shakin bacon?”

“Blackwood just a second-”

“Oh no need to worry my dear But do you recall what we discussed about the tree the other day? I do believe there is something you might wish to see?”

Vespers clenched his fist, stepping forward. “Blackwood sir my aunt is ready to come home. Could you please give us a new key?”

Blackwood blinked, “why leave right when you’ve just arrived? There is still so much we can do!”

Vespers frowned, “yes but-”

“Tell me moth child how about fireworks? I know they’re your favorite and each night I like to put on a spectacular show of them under the planet’s five moons. Every color imaginable! It’s about nine in the afternoon now but just wait!”

“That is nice but!”

“Oh and Juno I made the best rock climbing area just last year!”

Juno stepped back, “that's cool but-”

“Plus there's the raves on the planet’s south side, and we haven’t had dinner, then there were these new constellations I would really like a second opinion on-”

As Blackwood talked he floated up in the air, neon lights, stairs, cupcakes, and all manner of things began to appear and float about as if Blackwood’s thoughts were coming to life. Maggie pulled away from Billy and stamped her foot on the ground, “Blackwood sir please!”

Blackwood chuckled, “little seer what’s wrong? Did you have a bad vision? Will the fireworks get rained out?”

Small fireworks began to explode around them forcing the others to duck.

“No I. Will you please-,” Maggie growled and tugged at her hair in frustration.

“Stop, stop! ENOUGH!”

The world froze, the colors dulling. Outside the rides and people came to a stop. Freezing in place.

Inside the same happened to Cecelia and Risby, Juno waiving a hand in front of Cecelia’s face with no response.

Magpie felt a command in the back of her head, and order to freeze, some will that was not her own urging her limbs to lock up. She clasped the sides of her head, shaking her head no as she fell to the floor.

Vespers moves to help her but stopped, what was happening?

Blackwood floated down to where Maggie stood. Her bright red hair standing out like fire against the dull colors of the world.

“What is wrong with you?!”

Blackwood stepped back in surprise. No one really challenged him, not in a long time at least.

Funny who stood before him now.

Blackwood frowned, the floor beneath him cracking.

“Oh you’re just like her.”

Maggie blinked in surprise, just like who?

“Not everything has to be about the things you want little seer,” Blackwood hissed. “Can't I have some fun? Can’t the universe be a little happier? We follow fate like good sheep but what happens to the people given a bad path huh? On my planet I work hard to make everything perfect every day! I give whatever anyone could want! No sadness, no hurt!”

“But that’s not right.” Maggie timidity argued. “Bad things have to happen-“

“Why?!”

“Because without both there isn’t a point to living.”

Blackwood gaped at her, speechless.

“People who know how to be sad know how to be happy,” Maggie continued. “I mean really happy, because they know how to cherish it. But what you’ve made is… shallow.”

Vespers stood watching his aunt as she sat on the floor, hugging herself tightly as the colors began to fade away. Her bright blue eyes turning white and the rest of her following suit.

Maggie glanced at Cecilio who motioned for her to continue. Maggie took a breath. “It’s not fair I know that. But it’s how the universe works.”

“And if I don’t like the way the universe works? You don’t think I couldn’t just reach out and start rearranging everything one planet at a time? Changing the rules how I see fit?”

“You’re not a god so lay off with that,” Maggie frowned. “Besides you would just be miserable trying to maintain it all. Why else would you have deadlights here to help you manage things on one single planet?”

“Child, do you not think I am merely charitable?” Blackwood growled, the shadows of the room twisting and reaching out towards Maggie. Billy tried to move to help but found himself rooted to the floor, the tiles having melted remolded themselves around his feet and ankles. He panicked as a shadow shot out to wrap itself around Maggie’s neck.

But stopped.

Blackwood turned in surprise at the sound of a “snap” as the shadows receded. Magpie stood with her hand held out, her bright colors all gone as she had returned to her normal faded- out self. She wore no gloves revealing blackened hands that were riddled with the white lines of her veins. Around her static crackled as she glared at the elder.

“Do not touch my girl.”

Blackwood gasped but then seemed to deflate. Sitting down on the floor with a groan. 

“Magpie my dear, I’m just trying-“

“I don’t care, you will not touch what’s mine.” Magpie insisted. “Blackwood I want to go home.”

The elder groaned again with his face in his hands, outside it began to softly rain. 

“Magpie you were the one that told me you were so miserable.”

They all turned to Magpie in surprise, Vespers flinching at the statement. 

Magpie squared her shoulders, “and I still am. Please don’t misunderstand me, I do love it here. But it’s not like you magically “cured” me or anything. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

Outside it began to pour. Cracks forming in the ceiling as water seeped in around them. The floor soaked in seconds, Blackwood himself drenched. 

He gave a quiet “oh,” and nothing else.

Maggie sighed and walked to him, holding a hand out.

“Can- can we talk in private?”

They all sat around the entry hall while Maggie when off with Blackwood to speak. Magpie introducing Vespers, Billy, and Pepper to the family tree. 

“So gold leaves are blood line, silver are mates, bronze are extended family-”

“What is that green leaf?” Billy asked as he pointed at a particular branch.

Magpie smiled, “the adopted, that leaf is Maggie.”

Billy observed the little green leaf, noting with a smile that a silver one was attached to it.

Blackwood and Maggie returned looking thoroughly worn out. As if the conversation had been too much for them. Maggie took Magpie’s hand and pulled her aside from the other’s, Blackwood came to stand beside Billy. “By the way, congratulations to you.” 

Billy nodded to him with a particularly smug grin, Vespers watched them in confusion before hearing a soft gasp. He turned, Magpie was in Maggie’s arms crying.

“Wait what happend, is she ok?” Vespers worried only to be stopped by Blackwood. 

“Just tears of joy my boy.”

What?

“CECILIO!” Magpie screeched as she charged across the room towards the clown, launching herself at him in a hug.

“Ah! My back! Be careful!” He cried as he had no choice but to catch Magpie who was crying and laughing at once. “Where's the fire? What's going on?”

Maggie came to stand by Billy who wrapped his arm around her. She blushed as she patted her stomach and smiled at him.

Cecelio looked to Magpie, then to Maggie and Billy. A big grin made its way onto his face.

Vespers watched them all in confusion before Blackwood slowly tipped his chin up. Vespers observed a little green leaf that had a silver leaf right next to it.

Underneath was a new bud.

Oh

“Maggie holy fuck!” Vespers screamed just as Cecelio scooped Maggie and Billy up into a hug.

Alex doubled over laughing as the others watched in confusion as realization came over them one at a time.

Blackwood stepped back with a sad smile, musing over the conversation with the little seer.

Oh she was so much like her elder.

[whispersafterdusk]

The Master’s Apprentice - ch 9

He was still alive.  And he was still winning.

Thankfully they hadn't turned that disgusting room into his "permanent" residence - they painstakingly escorted him to and from every day.  After three days of fighting against Varea's attempts to remove Kestrel's spell they had left Onmund back in his room with a meal and a tub of hot (well...warmer than warm, but not really hot) water, and a change of clothing.  He felt a little awkward stripping down knowing that his doorway was wide open but the desire to scrub the grime and grit off overpowered his need for modesty. ((Continued below cut))

It was still a bit weird to be eating food after a year of not touching it but the sensation of something warm in his gut was a welcome one that he hadn't realized he'd missed; first it had been that tea and those potions, and then a proper meal later -- at the time he'd wondered how his body would handle having food and drink in it again but everything seemed to be working like it should be...and, he knew he couldn't go without food or drink without arousing suspicion.  It was bad enough they didn't believe him now - or seem to care - about his claims of what the spell did...if he wasn't eating that would no doubt make them even less inclined to believe him about anything else and that was the last thing he needed right now -- he did NOT want to give anyone any additional reasons to believe Varea over him.

Something about Varea bothered him; she was too...nice.  Too helpful.  Too determined to do the "right thing."  Admittedly Onmund only had Ancano and rumor to compare her to but the Thalmor were always haughty and vain, secure in their belief that Mer was superior to Man in all aspects.  Ancano had barely kept his disdain for the college and its inhabitants in check and the only stories Onmund had heard from anyone else were never pleasant -- their business of eradicating Talos worship meant they "disposed" of the guilty and the suspected guilty with indifferent and frighteningly swift impunity...Varea seemed to be the exact opposite of that, from what he could see.  She had certainly gotten angry with him challenging her and he knew he deeply frustrated her with his resistance but she'd yet to be openly cruel or rude and from what he could see and overhear she was always polite to Tolfdir and the others.

...something about it just seemed so off, though he could admit that maybe it was a mistake to paint all of a people in one broad stroke...but considering his current situation he couldn't manage to shake the feeling of something not being quite right.  Why would a Thalmor be so determined to help someone else when it didn't benefit them in any way?  It's not like she could have had orders prior to meeting him -- she'd admitted herself that she'd been expecting a corpse, not a man.  Was it a question of pride? Of wanting to show off her skill?  Was he merely some kind of a test subject for her to dissect? It just did not make sense to him.

So it went for the next two weeks: early mornings, escorted down into the Midden, and left in Varea's "care" for the day.  Her spells were growing in strength - like she was starting at one end of a relative scale and working her way up - but Onmund was still able to foil everything she tried (and he was thankful that his mental defenses required no verbal or somatic components to function - all of it was solely inward, and all it needed was his concentration).  At the end of each day Varea had seemed ready to pull her own hair out and had given him quite the variety of sour, ugly looks as they carted him back up to his room and left him to wait out the paralyze spell.

Tonight was no different -- they dumped him onto his bed and left and once the paralyze wore off Onmund rolled himself into his blankets and laid there as his muscles ached and quivered.

The whisper from his door seemed like part of a dream; he was already half asleep when he heard the "hsst" noise -- he couldn't figure out what it was or where it had come from at first, but it repeated two more times as he sat up and looked around.  There was a shadow at his doorway - a hooded figure - and once his mind realized what it was looking at he stood up, wards at the ready.

"Who's there?"

"It's...it's me."

Brelyna's voice was just above a whisper and she poked herself out into full view of the doorway; most of the magelights and torches were burned out or dimmed (he was thankful for that little comfort) so he couldn't see her clearly -- he immediately grew suspicious, then just as quickly felt foolish as she conjured a tiny magelight of her own and he could see her face beneath the hood.  She looked...uneasy.  Scared, even.  In one hand she held a small wooden plate that had a square of - from here it looked like a cut of some kind of cake or sweet, and she sat it on the floor and very carefully slid it across the threshold of the doorway.

The magical barrier there rippled but held and also allowed the plate to pass; Onmund cautiously padded over to stand over it, and over her, looking between both curiously.

"What's this?"

"A treat... I can't stay long, but I wanted to check on you."

Onmund bent and picked up the plate (whatever was on it smelled strongly of honey and was dusted with finely ground sugar) and gestured at himself with his empty hand.  "Still alive, despite that damned Thalmor."

Brelyna nodded; she crept closer to the doorway and knelt there, nervously glancing over her shoulder.  "Has she...said, or done anything to you?  Anything...odd?"

"She's been doing her damnedest to remove the spell on me, and I won't let her."

"Well yes, I assumed she was doing that.  But she's not...done anything else, right?"

"No...why?"

Again Brelyna glanced over her shoulder to the stairs.  "It's - it's weird.  No one here..."

Onmund stepped back and sat the plate on his bed then came back over to sit cross-legged in the doorway.  "No one what?"

"No one here disagrees with her...no one here believes YOU.  Not even slightly.  Like, no one can even consider the fact that you might be right."

He gently rocked back and forth where he sat, silent a moment; he'd at least hoped SOMEONE would believe him on some level...but no one?   "You're sure?  Not a single person?  Everyone's on her side?"

Brelyna nodded.  "Everyone.  I've been... I've been avoiding her, myself, but I've also been asking after you as carefully as I can.   Everyone is convinced she's right and that you're some poor soul enslaved to someone else.  It's weird.  You'd think someone, even if just a little bit, would be worried that what she's doing will kill you like you say...but not a single person I've asked has said otherwise, and I asked everyone but Tolfdir but he's been letting her do whatever she wants with you so I don't think I need to ask to know what he thinks."

Onmund frowned.  "That IS weird.  And...not exactly the best news for me."

"I don't know what to do about it, Onmund.  I don't think there's anything I CAN do."

"Do YOU believe me?"

Brelyna was silent a long moment; Onmund felt his heart sink - if she was right, and if she didn't believe him either, then he didn't have a single ally within the College.

And then, "Yes...I at least think there's a possibility you're telling the truth."

He let out his breath in a noisy huff.  "Oh, good...I was worried for a moment there."

She managed a weak smile.  "That still doesn't help you any."

"No, it's helpful to know I have at least one person who doesn't think I'm a liar or a slave."

"You weren't a liar before you disappeared...and, and yes, I can't confirm one way or another if you're a liar or slave now, but I...  I don't know.  I feel like something strange is going on."

Onmund bit his lower lip, looking at her; he wanted to tell her that yes, something WAS going on - he wanted to tell her all about the crown and what the spell actually did, and all about Kestrel  and her goals and what he'd been learning while he was gone...but what would Kestrel do to her if he told her everything?  And why was he even considering it in the first place? He didn't know too much about Brelyna...she was very tight lipped about her family and why she'd come to the College.   She'd mentioned that she enjoyed learning at her own pace, that she came from a family of powerful mages, and she had a love of books...if she wasn't practicing her casting or asleep Onmund had always found her with her nose buried in a book.

He thought of Kestrel's library, and wondered what Brelyna would think of it...and for a wild moment he found himself wondering if Kestrel would take a second apprentice -- Brelyna definitely didn't seem like the overtly ambitious sort, and he knew she had talent (probably more than he did, and look at what Kestrel had done with him!) But...that would also mean she'd be isolated.  She'd have to give up everything (at least until they came up with a solution for that crown).  Onmund hadn't been given much of a choice and Brelyna would be in the exact same position as he was if he told her everything...no.  No, he couldn't do that to her.

...not unless he had to, perhaps.  His denying Varea was as much for his safety as it was everyone else's - there weren't words to describe the terror he'd felt after just a glimpse of that crown and learning that someone was looking for it...someone who would easily harm anyone that may get in their way, whether that person meant to get in the way or not.  He felt like an ass even thinking it but maybe sacrificing one or two was acceptable (since it would technically be temporary isolation...just until the crown was taken care of) if it meant thousands more would be saved.  And, while he didn't want to force this on Brelyna, maybe she'd be the mind that Kestrel needed to help figure out how to destroy the crown.

He blew out a sigh that trailed into a growl, rubbing his hands down his face -- the biggest problem was there wasn't any way to tell her anything and still let her have a choice.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly.  "Listen...I do find it really strange that everyone is just wholly agreeing with Varea.  I have no idea what you've learned while I was gone but maybe see if you can find any traces of her using magic on anyone."

Brelyna raised an eyebrow.  "You think she's...bespelling the others?  Tricking them into believing her?"

"She said her career is built on breaking things like possession and control, it wouldn't be much of a stretch for her to reverse that for her own ends.  I just don't understand why she'd be so fixated on stripping this spell off me without anyone stopping her..."

"Maybe she's embarrassed."

Onmund nodded.  "Maybe.  She's definitely not happy with me, I know that much."

Brelyna glanced again to the stairs, then back to him.  "I should go before I get caught."  Her gaze moved around the edge of the doorway.   "I'm at least glad the plate went through."

Nodding again he stood and retrieved the plate with its sweet and went to shove it back through the barrier; it hit and almost fell out of his hand -- so, things could pass through to him but not back out of the sphere he was trapped in.  Good to know.

Brelyna didn't look too surprised at the result.  "I'll see what I can do...and I'll come back to check on you."

"Just be careful...if she IS using magic on the others somehow, you don't want her getting to you too."

Brelyna pressed her lips into a thin line - he hoped she'd thought of that before he'd thought to say something but he couldn't read her expression - and nodded to him with a weak smile before creeping away and back down the stairs.

He watched her go and once he was certain she was gone he quickly ate the little honey cake and then dropped the plate onto a chair next to the ward robe -- he of course wasn't hungry but it did make him feel a bit better to know that Brelyna was on his side (sort of) and cared enough to bring him the treat.  Of course, it also made him feel terrible to know he'd considered trapping her with him...he tried not to think about that half of it (or about the possibility that Varea wasn't so honest as she presented herself to be) and climbed back into bed.

[josnhoes]

Honey, I'm sending all the positive vibes I have over to you and your father. I hope things end up okay. It's been ages since I played Borderlands, but I remember maining Hunter in the first game and developing a bit of a crush on Mordecai as a result. How do you think he'd feel about meeting a fellow hunter with their own bird companion? Not a bloodwing, but maybe another falcon-like species.

We (dad and I) appreciate the vibes!

I'm thinking reader has an American Kestrel. Which are basically mini-falcons in appearance. If you want a different one let me know.

Mordecai and a fellow Bird buddy hunter/sniper.

-He was more surprised at the size of the bird that just stole a bandit's eye that he didn't even register his kill was stolen by some one else. Well until he noticed and was upset because he totally had the mark first what gives? But he brushes off his annoyance due to curiosity.

-He does his best to follow the small bird, and he is not disappointed by what he finds. He wasn't sure which was more impressive you or your gun.

-As soon as he knows you aren't completely bat shit insane like half the people of pandora he is all about talking to you.

-You talk tricks and tips in sniping and hunting, explain your little buddy who you had dubbed Bullet because he was small and deadly, and most importantly you both have birdy play dates.

-Doesn't even think romantic until someone points his crush out.

-He spends a while figuring out those feelings, probably suppresses it as he doesn't want to loose what he has. He's just so stoked to have someone who he vibes so well with!

-The pair of you end up in a few playful shooting contests and usually do playful bets like "looser brings the snacks next playdate", or things like having the other wear a silly hat for a day or silly voices for an hour. Just things that don't have any real downsides...aside maybe a small blow to egos.

-The contests are pretty balanced on who wins and looses bouncing between you both.

-Someday he'll come to terms with his feelings and take a chance but for now he wants to enjoy what he has.

[sussex-nature-lover]

Wednesday 28th October 2020

Warning - poor quality pictures ahead

Nothing like engaging readership by starting off saying your Blog’s going to be a bit of a dud is there, but fair warning. Another slight warning as you read on - the potentially upsetting photo at the end. It isn’t actually gory and it isn’t a wholly sad story, so don’t worry, I just thought I’d mention that from the off. Oh and as always

♦ any bold type leads to a completely unrelated outside link that I think might further explain something, or be of interest.

To business in hand. I forgot to mention that on Monday night when I went up to bed the noise of Owls was quite frantic, not sure what was going on with them. It took me by surprise. It’s been a long time since I actually heard Owls, although I know they’re here and here about, especially the Little Owls. They used to nest and breed up at the farm but this Summer it seemed like the Kestrel took over that very territory. They nested and inhabited a barn and a close-by tree. It sounded like these Owls were in our woodland, I’ll keep listening for them. I wonder if they were hooting at the moon? No I don’t really, I just wanted to find a way of mentioning the moon and how clear and pink tinged it’s looked this week. Has anyone else seen that?

Here’s a view from the front of the house, a tiny bit of colour crept in from next door’s front garden as a few leaves cling on, but you can’t see the distant tree line across the fields. We always know the weather’s bad when you can’t see across that far.

It’s so wet that the Christmas trees in particular are holding on to all the rain drops. Yesterday we were joking that they looked like they were laden with fairy lights. There was a bit of sunshine at times and the drops were shining either gold (for me) or green and blue (for OH) as we were in different places at the window. No sunshine now, so above is just the rain lashing down and the palm holding on to all the drops. All the trees are holding on to all the drops and I very much doubt the local reservoir is having any problems of late. Let me Look...

Oh, I’m wrong. As of 22nd it’s at 59% which seems loooooow, although it’s ranking second of four in the South East area. Weir Wood where we saw the Honey Buzzard is showing 91%. Quite a difference.

Going back to the window views, it struck me the outlook from one of ours is coordinating very well with the inside,

With the curtains and with the lamp

I bought this lamp years back on the sole basis that we both liked it when we saw it - we weren’t even lamp shopping. The colour goes with nothing else in the house really, until I looked out curtains from the last house and hey presto. Waste not, want not. I still love these curtains despite the fact you could call them vintage by now and I’d like to update but we’ve never really found anything we agree on that we like better, plus, they do a brilliant job of keeping light out of the room, which is my top priority. I always need double lined curtains for insulation and to hang properly. Curtains for me have to close the world out and when I go to sleep I really don’t want any disturbances  (slight Diva alert there) Owls are accepted from this rule, however, as I always like hearing them and they make me smile.

Now this photo is very poor. I didn’t get the little chap in focus but he demonstrates well enough what I mentioned yesterday. The Nuthatch breasts and bellies are much deeper than their usual pale buff and much more rust coloured. This Chaffinch, who spent a lot of time face on, skulking underneath the shrubbery,is indeed a Chaffinch and not the very elusive Bullfinch that I keep hoping to see. Of course it wouldn’t be a Bullfinch as I’ve never known one come to the feeders or into the shrubbery, but you know I’m always the optimist.  I have applied a bit of filter to that photo just to replicate on screen the kind of hue I was seeing in real life. There were Chaffinch here today and the males just looked regular brownish and buff colours. Now I’m wondering if the colours aren’t suddenly intense and the birds have just been soaked wet through!

It reminds me of last week when I was hoping I’d seen a female Greenfinch at the feeders, but sadly she turned out to be a fairly unusual (markings wise) House Sparrow whose underneath had taken on a reflected greenish shade with the last knockings of the sun that day. That was a lesson learned, that there are standards for birds, but there are always variations to be aware of.

Now, I’m getting a fair few sightings lately which are causing me some consternation and debate, not least the below, which is the photo warned about at the beginning. 

I consulted my Guru and Twitter friends as to what they thought had happened to this Stock Dove? I should say its eyes are bright and it came to feed and drink and it moved about OK, but it has a very large patch of feathers missing from its back. This picture isn’t the most graphic so don’t worry about that.

The consensus in the end was damage from an attack rather than disease and that all being well the feathers will grow back again without too much trouble. Fingers crossed.

To the kitchen...

COOK’S NOTE:

The other night we had a lovely chicken tagine, made in a le Creuset pot not an actual tagine, we don’t have one because we really don’t need one or have room to store one amongst our huge collection of kitchenalia.

The recipe comes from the book Tagine, spicy stews from Morocco, by Ghillie Basan and on page 33. It’s chicken tagine with preserved lemon, green olives and thyme. We used thighs and marinating them overnight meant they were really tender and succulent. Had it with cous cous and I kid you not, I could eat it all over again right now.

[jafreitag]

The New Sounds (6/20)

Hi, guys. How’s everything? Weird times. Hope you and your people are all healthy and happy (enough).

When I started these New Sounds playlists back in January, the concept was a compilation of the best songs of each month – I actually checked release dates for every track in January and February. Then COVID happened (or the clampdown happened, anyway – the virus had been spreading among us for a while), and WFH happened. And I had more time to listen to music.

There was alot of classical that I always wanted to hear. And now I have – all the symphonies by Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Mahler, and almost half of them by Shostakovich, as well as a few by Bruckner and Schubert. Sibelius is next. There was alot of jazz that I always wanted to hear. And now I have – all of the pre-Columbia Records stuff by Miles Davis, most of the pre-Atlantic Records stuff by John Coltrane, and most of the Jazz Messengers catalog. OM and I are now doing a deep, chronological dive into Miles’ fusion-era studio material. (Blogpost/playlist coming eventually.)

I also kept up with fresh stuff, and that included revisiting records from earlier in the year to which I hadn’t given sufficient attention. Accordingly, the playlist concept changed. Now, it’s more like a compilation of the best new-ish songs that I heard during the month, even if they were released in a different month. Example: Kiwi jr.’s Football Money dropped in January, but I circled back to it last week, and a funny little track ended up on the June ‘list. The upshot is that a less strict rule had led to more tracks. Still, all killer, no filler.

The New Sounds for June: Jenny Lin (Philip Glass composition), Zola Jesus (Black Sabbath cover), TORRES, Phoebe Bridgers, HAIM, Margaret Glaspy, Dream Wife, Alex the Astronaut, Waxahatchee, GIRL SKIN, Trace Mountains, Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever, Kiwi jr., 2nd Grade, Hotel Lux, Twin Peaks, Max Bloom, Porridge Radio, Fenne Lily, Hazel English, Peggy Sue, Honey Lung, Disq, Kestrels & J Mascis, Gum Country, Bryde, Why Bonnie, Momma, New Pagans (!!), Francesca Blanchard, Ellis, Liela Moss, Car Seat Headrest, Hinds, Melenas, Public Practice, Lithics, Retirement Party, No Age, Bob Mould, Dogleg, Charmer, Fire in the Radio, Cafe Racer, The Wants, The Cool Greenhouse, Fontaines D.C., Nat Vazer, Sorry, Tia Gostelow, Cathedral Bells, Ball Park Music, Nation of Language, I Break Horses, Hatchie & The Pains of Being Pure at Heart (Jesus and Mary Chain cover), A.O. Gerber, Jordana, The Fiery Furnaces, U.S. Girls, Methyl Ethel, Kate NV, Dua Lipa, Foxes, Charli XCX, Lily Konigsberg, Blanche, Sia, Michael Stipe & Big Red Machine, Fiona Apple, Meek Mill, Public Enemy, Saweetie, Noname, Tricky, Yaeji, Rival Consoles, Kelly Lee Owens, Caribou (Four Tet remix), The 1975, The Soft Pink Truth, Gia Margaret, Rosie Carney (Broken Social Scene cover), Mid-Air Thief (thanks, GB), and Inventions. And more.

Widget…

The header image is by ultraviolet (@ultraglitch on Ello). Thanks for that.

The virus is still a thing. Please be smart and safe! And Happy Independence Day!

More soon.

JF

from WordPress https://ift.tt/3f2hAip via IFTTT