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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Jon II (Chapter 7)

Get in loser, Janos Slynt is losing his head.

He almost burned the parchment then and there. Instead he took a sip of ale, the dregs of the half cup that remained from his solitary supper the night before.

The lead-up to this is going to be worse than the Red Wedding.

+.+.+

When Gilly entered, she went at once to her knees. Jon came around the table and drew her to her feet. "You don't need to take a knee for me. That's just for kings."

ha HA, get it? Jon's going to be exiled.

+.+.+

Is it Mance? Val begged the king to spare him. She said she'd let some kneeler marry her and never slit his throat if only Mance could live.

George puts a lot of thought and consideration into naming his characters, because he wants the names to perfectly embody the spirit of the character.

That's why Val has the most boring insipid name in the story.

+.+.+

"Refuse, and the boy will burn. Not on the morrow, nor the day after … but soon, whenever Melisandre needs to wake a dragon or raise a wind or work some other spell requiring king's blood. Mance will be ash and bone by then, so she will claim his son for the fire, and Stannis will not deny her. If you do not take the boy away, she will burn him."

We already know Mance is a dead man, but that's pretty much confirming it, yeah?

Only one royal left to burn.

+.+.+

"A mother can't leave her son, or else she's cursed forever. Not a son. We saved him, Sam and me. Please. Please, m'lord. We saved him from the cold."

Included the italics on son. Strange.

Of course Craster's wives/daughters did leave all their sons (no judgment), so I'm not sure what's being implied here.

Everyone's cursed!

Craster's blood is black, and he bears a heavy curse. - Jon III, ASOS

+.+.+

"Men say that freezing to death is almost peaceful. Fire, though … do you see the candle, Gilly?"

She looked at the flame. "Yes."

"Touch it. Put your hand over the flame."

Her big brown eyes grew bigger still. She did not move.

"Do it." Kill the boy. "Now."

If you chant this three times in front of a mirror Bowen Marsh appears.

+.+.+

"Down. Let it kiss you."

Gilly lowered her hand. An inch. Another. When the flame licked her flesh, she snatched her hand back and began to sob.

"Fire is a cruel way to die. Dalla died to give this child life, but you have nourished him, cherished him. You saved your own boy from the ice. Now save hers from the fire."

It's Gilly's Song of Ice and Fire!

Here's a guy that's definitely going to be down to fuck a woman who burns populated cities to the ground.

+.+.+

"Your son has no king's blood. Melisandre gains nothing by giving him to the fire. Stannis wants the free folk to fight for him, he will not burn an innocent without good cause. Your boy will be safe. I will find a wet nurse for him and he'll be raised here at Castle Black under my protection. He'll learn to hunt and ride, to fight with sword and axe and bow. I'll even see that he is taught to read and write." Sam would like that. "And when he is old enough, he will learn the truth of who he is. He'll be free to seek you out if that is what he wants."

Unless she's buried under Winterfell.

I'm guilty of forgetting this is not meant to be a short-term separation. Brutal.

+.+.+

Samwell Tarly turned up a few moments later, clutching a stack of books.

Time for some déjà vu.

We've already been shown this conversation in Samwell's first AFFC chapter, so I won't cover it all again.

Samwell I, AFFC

+.+.+

The raven did its best to peck through his palm. Sam yowled, the bird flapped off, corn scattered. "Did that wretch break the skin?" Jon asked.

Sam gingerly removed his glove. "He did. I'm bleeding."

"We all shed our blood for the Watch. Wear thicker gloves."

Ugh.

There isn't a single POV I'm looking forward to.

+.+.+

"At Winterfell, Tommen fought my brother Bran with wooden swords," Jon said, remembering. "He wore so much padding he looked like a stuffed goose. Bran knocked him to the ground." He went to the window and threw the shutters open. The air outside was cold and bracing, though the sky was a dull grey. "Yet Bran's dead, and pudgy pink-faced Tommen is sitting on the Iron Throne, with a crown nestled amongst his golden curls."

Bran and Tommen sat on a wall, Bran and Tommen had a great fall; All the King's horses And all the King's men, Could only put Bran back together again.

Sorry, nothing new to add. I'm only including so I don't forget to put this reversal under King Bran's foreshadowing.

+.+.+

"Yet Bran's dead, and pudgy pink-faced Tommen is sitting on the Iron Throne, with a crown nestled amongst his golden curls."

That got an odd look from Sam, and for a moment he looked as if he wanted to say something.

Lol.

Bran's not dead, Sam wanted to say. He's gone beyond the Wall with Coldhands. The words caught in his throat. I swore I would not tell. - Samwell I, AFFC

He will.

+.+.+

"Stannis says it's not enough. The more you give a king, the more he wants. We are walking on a bridge of ice with an abyss on either side. Pleasing one king is difficult enough. Pleasing two is hardly possible."

Many other jonsas have already identified that's exactly what Sansa faces in her final AFFC chapter.

+.+.+

The oldest histories we have were written after the Andals came to Westeros. The First Men only left us runes on rocks, so everything we think we know about the Age of Heroes and the Dawn Age and the Long Night comes from accounts set down by septons thousands of years later. There are archmaesters at the Citadel who question all of it.

Nice reminder to question everything we're about to be told.

I'll also use this opportunity to remind everyone it's Arianne Martell and Daemon Sand who will explore caves in TWOW, not Jon and Daenerys.

+.+.+

"I found mention of dragonglass. The children of the forest used to give the Night's Watch a hundred obsidian daggers every year, during the Age of Heroes.

If you're wondering where the children of the forest found obsidian, the answer is likely Skagos.

Though rarely seen off their island, the stoneborn once were accustomed to crossing the Bay of Seals to trade or, more oft, raid—until King Brandon Stark, Ninth of His Name, broke their power once and for all, destroyed their ships, and forbade them the sea. For most of recorded history, they have remained an isolated, backward, savage folk, as like to murder those who land upon their isle as to trade with them. When they do consent to trade, the Skagosi offer pelts, obsidian blades and arrowheads, and "unicorn horns" for goods they desire. - TWoIaF

Davos is headed there now.

That leaves Dragonstone. Who is going to Dragonstone?

+.+.+

"The armor of the Others is proof against most ordinary blades, if the tales can be believed, and their own swords are so cold they shatter steel. Fire will dismay them, though, and they are vulnerable to obsidian. I found one account of the Long Night that spoke of the last hero slaying Others with a blade of dragonsteel. Supposedly they could not stand against it."

"Dragonsteel?" The term was new to Jon. "Valyrian steel?"

"That was my first thought as well."

Question everything you're being told.

We've covered this before, but I'll say it again: the Long Night preceded the creation of Valyrian Steel by thousands of years. Sorry, Game of Thrones.

They're wrong, and if Samwell took a second to think about it, he'd realize that.

+.+.+

"My lord, my f-f-f-father, Lord Randyll, he, he, he, he, he … the life of a maester is a life of servitude. No son of House Tarly will ever wear a chain. The men of Horn Hill do not bow and scrape to petty lords. Jon, I cannot disobey my father."

Kill the boy, Jon thought. The boy in you, and the one in him. Kill the both of them, you bloody bastard.

Ugh.

Get yourself killed, leave Samwell out of this!

+.+.+

He knew what he would face today, and found himself tossing restlessly as he brooded on Maester Aemon's final words. "Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel," the old man had said, "the same counsel that I once gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born." The old man felt Jon's face. "You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born."

See, it's only fair Jon gets to send Aemon on a cruise to the netherworld. You get me killed, I get you killed.

We make our own canon, so I've decided it's Aemon's fault Egg went full Targ at Summerhall.

(never go full Targ)

+.+.+

Kedge Whiteye had the Wall when Jon made his ascent. Kedge had seen forty-odd namedays, thirty of them on the Wall. His left eye was blind, his right eye mean. In the wild, alone with axe and garron, he was as good a ranger as any in the Watch, but he had never gotten on well with the other men.

I hate it.

+.+.+

Ser Richard Horpe and Ser Justin Massey were both queen's men, and high in the king's councils. A pair of common freeriders would have served if all that Stannis had in mind was scouting, Jon Snow reflected, but knights are better suited to act as messengers or envoys.

Sorry, this reminded me of something I didn't connect in previous chapters. Small detour.

Barristan Selmy believes the Unsullied are not meant to be detectives ->

"Soldiers, not warriors, if it please Your Grace. They were made for the battlefield, to stand shoulder to shoulder behind their shields with their spears thrust out before them. Their training teaches them to obey, fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation … not to unravel secrets or ask questions." - Daenerys I, ADWD

Illyrio and Tyrion throw that same shade Barristan Selmy's way ->

"Let us hope this dream was not prophetic. You are a clever imp, just as Varys said, and Daenerys will have need of clever men about her. Ser Barristan is a valiant knight and true; but none, I think, has ever called him cunning."

"Knights know only one way to solve a problem. They couch their lances and charge. - Tyrion II, ADWD

Keep that in mind when this knight becomes the Queen's Hand, and tries to solve a locust mystery.

+.+.+

Ghost slept at the foot of the bed that night, and for once Jon did not dream he was a wolf. Even so, he slept fitfully, tossing for hours before sliding down into a nightmare. Gilly was in it, weeping, pleading with him to leave her babes alone, but he ripped the children from her arms and hacked their heads off, then swapped the heads around and told her to sew them back in place.

I wasn't sure if Jon knew all the details of what happened to Robb. I think I got my answer.

+.+.+

Jon expected hot mulled wine, and was surprised to find that it was soup, a thin broth that smelled of leeks and carrots but seemed to have no leeks or carrots in it. The smells are stronger in my wolf dreams, he reflected, and food tastes richer too. Ghost is more alive than I am.

Ugh.

Thanks, I got it. You can stop now, George.

+.+.+

Jon felt something wet and cold upon his face. When he raised his eyes, he saw that it was snowing. A bad omen.

[...]

"So do you, Sam. Have a swift, safe voyage, and take care of her and Aemon and the child." The cold trickles on his face reminded Jon of the day he'd bid farewell to Robb at Winterfell, never knowing that it was for the last time. "And pull your hood up. The snowflakes are melting in your hair."

Not always. What about drifting snowflakes?

That's not foreshadowing, Samwell will be fine.

+.+.+

"I've sent to Oldtown for more maesters. You'll have two ravens for when your need is urgent. When it's not, send riders. Until we have more maesters and more birds, I mean to establish a line of beacon towers along the top of the Wall."

That's a good idea. Will anything come of it?

+.+.+

If the climbers reached the top of the Wall undetected, however, everything changed. Given time, they could carve out a toehold for themselves up there, throwing up ramparts of their own and dropping ropes and ladders for thousands more to clamber over after them. That was how Raymun Redbeard had done it, Raymun who had been King-Beyond-the-Wall in the days of his grandfather's grandfather. Jack Musgood had been the lord commander in those days. Jolly Jack, he was called before Redbeard came down upon the north; Sleepy Jack, forever after. Raymun's host had met a bloody end on the shores of Long Lake, caught between Lord Willam of Winterfell and the Drunken Giant, Harmond Umber. Redbeard had been slain by Artos the Implacable, Lord Willam's younger brother. The Watch arrived too late to fight the wildlings, but in time to bury them, the task that Artos Stark assigned them in his wroth as he grieved above the headless corpse of his fallen brother.

Jon did not intend to be remembered as Sleepy Jon Snow.

Worldbuilding or cleverly hidden foreshadowing? I'm too tired to figure it out.

If anyone is getting flanked, I have to believe it's Ramsay's army during the Battle for Winterfell.

+.+.+

When Kegs and Dolorous Edd arrived with Slynt, Jon thanked them and bid Lord Janos sit.

That he did, albeit with poor grace, crossing his arms, scowling, and ignoring the naked steel in his lord commander's hands. Jon slid the oilcloth down his bastard sword, watching the play of morning light across the ripples, thinking how easily the blade would slide through skin and fat and sinew to part Slynt's ugly head from his body. All of a man's crimes were wiped away when he took the black, and all of his allegiances as well, yet he found it hard to think of Janos Slynt as a brother. There is blood between us. This man helped slay my father and did his best to have me killed as well.

I'm far too biased to take part in any discussion over whether Jon went too far with Janos Slynt, but I will say it's not ideal he wants to kill him.

I'm okay with it, for the record.

+.+.+

"Lord Janos," Jon said, "I will give you one last chance. Put down that spoon and get to the stables. I have had your horse saddled and bridled. It is a long, hard road to Greyguard."

"Then you had best be on your way, boy." Slynt laughed, dribbling porridge down his chest. "Greyguard's a good place for the likes of you, I'm thinking. Well away from decent godly folk. The mark of the beast is on you, bastard."

I love the theory that Jon's first chapter back will be called The Beast or something similar.

+.+.+

"As you will." Jon nodded to Iron Emmett. "Please take Lord Janos to the Wall—"

[...]

"—and hang him," Jon finished.

Janos Slynt's face went as white as milk. The spoon slipped from his fingers. Edd and Emmett crossed the room, their footsteps ringing on the stone floor. Bowen Marsh's mouth opened and closed though no words came out. Ser Alliser Thorne reached for his sword hilt. Go on, Jon thought. Longclaw was slung across his back. Show your steel. Give me cause to do the same.

[...]

"I will not hang him," said Jon. "Bring him here."

"Oh, Seven save us," he heard Bowen Marsh cry out.

Something tells me Bowen Marsh wasn't happy with Jon's decision.

+.+.+

This is wrong, Jon thought. "Stop."

Emmett turned back, frowning. "My lord?"

"I will not hang him," said Jon. "Bring him here."

"Oh, Seven save us," he heard Bowen Marsh cry out.

The smile that Lord Janos Slynt smiled then had all the sweetness of rancid butter. Until Jon said, "Edd, fetch me a block," and unsheathed Longclaw.

This is foreshadowed in two different books, and the theme of noose vs. sword is constantly revisited in many different POVs.

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. - Sansa VI, AGOT

A small gold spear tipped with red enamel pinned his cloak at the shoulder. "Your father died by the sword, but he was highborn, a King's Hand. For you, a noose will serve. Ser Alliser, take this turncloak to an ice cell." - Jon IX, ASOS

So I don't buy for a second that George changed it because of a bunch of fans.

And here's a comment on Reddit that supports that. (Thank you to @nimbledick for locating it for me!)

+.+.+

"Move to avoid the cut, and you will still die, but your dying will be uglier. Stretch out your neck, my lord." The pale morning sunlight ran up and down his blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. "If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them," he said, expecting one last curse.

Janos Slynt twisted his neck around to stare up at him. "Please, my lord. Mercy. I'll … I'll go, I will, I …"

+.+.+

No, thought Jon. You closed that door. Longclaw descended.

"Can I have his boots?" asked Owen the Oaf, as Janos Slynt's head went rolling across the muddy ground. "They're almost new, those boots. Lined with fur."

Jon glanced back at Stannis. For an instant their eyes met. Then the king nodded and went back inside his tower.

Sweet Owen, never take a dead man's boots.

Speaking of the Night's Watch and their boots, I doubt this is a coincidence:

This time she did not hesitate. "Dareon is dead. The black singer who was sleeping at the Happy Port. He was really a deserter from the Night's Watch. Someone slit his throat and pushed him into a canal, but they kept his boots."

"Good boots are hard to find." - Cat of the Canals, AFFC

Arya, you thief!

Also, I hate that nod between Jon and Stannis, because I'm sure many saw it.

Final thoughts:

One by one our little Starklings are avenging Ned Stark's death. Petyr, are you next?

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#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #jon ii

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middleearthpixie · 2 years

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Yes! I think you should definitely do “warm beverages” ☺️

Okay - here it is and I know it is REALLY late, but time just really has lost all meaning for me lately. And I know it's supposed to be a drabble, but for me, this IS a drabble (everything I write turns into a monster, after all) so here goes...

Hot Apple Cider

Prompt: Warm Beverages (Day 3)

Summary: You and Thorin spend a cold afternoon at a corn maze with your children…

Characters: Thorin x reader, Rina Durin, Frerin Durin, Dwalin

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,863

Khuzdul Translations:

’Adad - father

’Amad - mother

Raklûn - precious, darling one

Maralmizi/maralmizu - I love you

Mesmel - jewel of all jewels

Amrâlimê - my love

***

It was a gray, blustery day with a definite chill in the air. Not exactly the picture perfect weather for pumpkin picking or to wander about in an immense corn maze, but at the same time, no one seemed to mind the dreariness around them. Shrieks of laughter echoed all around you to let you know just how little the weather mattered. Despite the fact that you were freezing and your hands were almost numb, you still smiled. This was just as you remembered it from your own childhood—pumpkin patch, corn maze, hayrides, the earthy tang of apples as they were pressed for their juice, hints of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg in the air. You hadn’t been to the farm since you were a girl and as you slipped your hand into Thorin’s, your memories came rushing back as the heat from his hand sank into yours to thaw it a tad.

“I should go after them,” he said, frowning in the direction of the corn maze. “They’re in there alone and anything can happen.”

“They aren’t alone.” You squeezed his hand gently. “They are with Dwalin and he is never far behind either of them. Relax, your Majesty, and enjoy a rare free afternoon.”

He smiled down at you. “I’m not so good at relaxing. I have so much work waiting for me back at Erebor.”

“I know, but even a king is allowed a few hours to simply spend doing nothing but listening to his children have fun.”

“I know you’re right, and we needed a bit of time away from everything and it’s only a few hours, but I’m having trouble just the same.”

“Really?” you asked this with a grin. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sorry, mesmel, there is just so much going on now.”

“I know, but the world will not fall apart all at once. Balin is there if anything urgent comes up.” You slipped your hand from his and eased your arms about his waist. “We miss you, you know.”

“I know. And Mahal willing, the elders will stop being so fussy over everything and agree to the terms of the agreement between us and the elves.”

“They will. They merely need a bit more convincing.”

“Which I can hardly do here.”

“Thorin.” You didn’t even bother to keep the scolding out of your voice. “It is but a few hours away from the negotiations. Balin is more than capable of speaking on your behalf and your children are only young for a short while. Enjoy it.”

His blue eyes closed, his lashes thick black crescents against his cheeks as he drew in a slow, deep breath and then exhaled just as slowly. “You’re right and I am sorry again.”

“You’re forgiven,” you tucked your head against his chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms about you and pressed a kiss into the top of your head. You knew how hard he’d been working, in meeting after meeting from sunup until late at night, all trying to hammer out a trade agreement between the dwarves and the elves of Mirkwood. It had taken every ounce of persuasion you possessed to get him to agree to this outing. Now if only you could find a way to make him relax and actually enjoy his down time. One thing at a time.

Shrieks of laughter rolled your way and a few minutes later, two dark-haired children came racing out of the corn maze, almost falling into one another from laughing so hard. You had no idea what they laughed about, but the sound of them doing it was so silvery and melodic, it was contagious and you smiled as well.

Thorin pulled away from you, crouching to scoop up Frerin, your eight-year old son. “Easy, Frer,” he said, swinging him up into his arms. “Where did you lose Dwalin?”

“In there,” Frerin pointed back to the corn maze. “He’s too slow and too bossy and no fun, ’Adad.”

“You lost him on purpose, Rina?” you asked.

Your ten-year old daughter looked up and nodded. “Kind of, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he kept telling us to go left! Or not that way!” Frerin looped his arms about Thorin’s neck, but held himself away to look his father eye to eye. “He’s no fun, so we gave him the slip.”

Thorin arched a brow. “Gave him the slip?”

Rina nodded, trying to look somber, but you didn't miss the way her pale blue eyes sparkled with mischief. It was the same look you’d seen so many times in her father’s eyes as well. “At a tee, he said, Turn right, and we went left and he couldn’t keep up. He’s such an old sourpuss.”

You had to hold back your smile, and it wasn’t easy. Both Rina and Frerin seemed so very proud of their sneakiness and they weren’t entirely wrong. At times, Dwalin was very much an old sourpuss. You looked over at Thorin, and only one who knew him as well as you did could see the amusement sparking in his eyes, the slight twitch at the right corner of his beard that gave away his struggle to not smile as well.

“That wasn’t nice, Rina. We should probably go find him.” You looked back at the massive corn maze. The farm boasted they had the largest corn maze in all of Middle Earth and you didn't relish the thought of trying to find one dwarf in that mess of giant stalks.

Thorin shook his head. “Nah. He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way out. Besides, they’re right, it is not fun being ordered this way and that. Not,” he added as Frerin’s smile widened, “that I condone just ditching him that way, mind you. Because that was wrong. So, you two will go and find him and apologize.”

Frerin’s gaze fell and his smile faded. “Sorry, ’Adad,” he said sheepishly. “We just wanted to have fun, like everyone else.”

Like everyone else. You heard the laughter and shrieks of the other children in the corn maze and sighed softy. “You and your sister aren’t like everyone else, though, raklûn,” you told him softly, reaching down to rumple his windblown tangle of black curls. “And that’s why Dwalin goes with you places.”

Rina sighed. “But, ’Amad, he never lets us have any fun, though. And that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be fun, isn’t it?” She gestured to the maze, then to the rest of the farm around them. Then, she sighed softly. “Oh, all right. Come on, Frer, let’s go find him.”

She held out her hand to her younger brother, and you waited to see if he’d take it or not. Then, he slipped his hand into his sister’s and said, “Can we lose him again?”

“No.” Rina shook her head. “Not this time.” She shot you and Thorin both a pointed look. “It wasn’t nice.”

“Enough,” Thorin told her sternly. “Go and retrieve him before he has a chance grow even crankier.”

“Very well.” Rina let out a sigh that suggested she was the most put-upon girl in all of Middle Earth. “Come on, Frer. Let’s go find the old sourpuss.”

“And stop calling him the old sourpuss!” Thorin called after them.

You smiled as they vanished into the corn maze once more, then looked up at Thorin. “Now’s our chance to lose them all.”

He grinned. “I like how you think.”

With that, he caught you by the hand and tugged you toward the corn maze as well. You could hear your children ahead of you, so you made certain that when they went left, you went right. And vice versa. And as you wound further into the maze, the sounds of the farm, and of the other maze-goers, faded into the distance. The air smelled sweetly of fresh soil, apples, and cinnamon and it was cold enough that you didn't mind it when Thorin tugged you up against him.

He smiled down at you. “Finally, a moment alone.”

“Careful, dwarf,” you replied, the glint in his pale blue eyes making butterflies come alive in your belly, “you don’t want to jinx us.”

He bent to you, his lips soft and warm as they met yours, and you melted against him. How was it possible that after nearly a dozen years of marriage, and two children, this man still had the ability to make you feel like a young girl in the grips of her very first crush? Even on a cold, windswept, overcast day, in a corn maze, you felt as if you had just fallen in love with him and you wanted his kiss to last forever.

He kissed you slowly, deep and lingering, and when he drew back, he pressed his forehead to yours and murmured, “Maralmizi.”

“Maralmizu,” you whispered back, tracing your forefinger along the silvery patch of his beard. It was somehow soft and scratchy at the same time and you’d noticed there were more silver threads shot through with each passing day. Not that it mattered. He was still the same handsome dwarf he’d been when you’d met so many years ago. And you loved him as much now as you did then, perhaps even more.

“You’re shivering, mesmel,” he murmured.

“It’s cold in here and the wind is cutting thorough me.”

“Would you like something hot to drink?”

“Dwarf, I would kill for that.”

“Then we should probably go find our children,” he whispered, kissing you again.

“Probably.”

“Or we could just let Dwalin keep them.”

“We’d miss them.”

“Not for a while, though.”

“Dwarf.”

“Very well. We will take the children home with us.” He grinned, kissing you a third time. “Can we leave Dwalin here? He is an old sourpuss, you know.”

“I know, but we should probably take him back, too.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“There they are!” Rina’s voice rang out like a bell, lilting and silvery. “Ugh, they’re kissing again!”

“Ew!”

Thorin straightened up. “Who would like something warm to drink?”

Both Rina and Frerin nodded. “Hot chocolate!”

Dwalin rounded the corner, red-faced from windburn, what was left of his hair blown in all directions. “Aye, a drink sounds perfect. Preferably something with bourbon or rum in it.”

“How about you, amrâlimê,” Thorin turned to you, “would you like a warm drink?”

“Absolutely.” You clasped your hands together to blow on them and stamped your feet, which were cold despite your heavy boots. “I’m almost frozen through out here.”

“Very well. To the food tent and whatever warm drinks they’re selling here.” Thorin draped his arm about your shoulders and caught Rina’s hand while Frerin grabbed your free hand and you all made your way to the food tent to thaw out a bit.

Hot chocolate. Hot apple cider. Hot cider spiked with bourbon. Everyone had exactly what they wished to drink and you sighed as you slipped your warm spiked cider, and without thinking, leaned your head against Thorin’s shoulder and smiled as his hand came to rest on your thigh. In that moment, you forgot all about being cold.

***

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#fotfics #fotfics fictober #fotfics october challenge #not really a drabble #oops #richard armitage #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #romance #thorin x reader #thorin x oc #Thorin x you #corn maze #farm #the hobbit AU #fluffy fluff #Thorin fluff

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scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year

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Loveless - (mid Credits 😏)

<<<Prev Next>>>

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Can't be a marvel fic without a mid Credits scene can it?

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The beach was warm and the sun was out. Shuri watched as Namor laughed with Attuma by the edge of the water, they had gone fishing and to catch up. Wakanda was herself again and it filled Shuri with joy.

Okoye was tending a fire for the barbecue and waiting on Attuma to bring the meat which didn't seem like he was going to any time soon. It however didn’t stop M’baku from trialling his new barbecued corn from Talokan.

Ross sat by the cover of the trees escaping the hot sun, busy face timing Namora who didn’t need a translator anymore.

But as Namor turned towards her his elated expression transformed into one he reserved for strangers, his gaze looking beyond her to someone behind.

“Shuri, it has been a while.”, she heard him speak and knew who it was.

“White wolf. Brave of you to come back after what the Thunderbolts did.”, she turned to him.

“I was not a part of them, I was tricked into joining them by their noble cause.”, he explained and having experienced Val’s cunning attempts, she could understand.

“It was also because I wasn’t there and without his shield bearing friend, he lacks proper judgement.”, Sam was next to him, clad in new armour as Captain America.

“But we’re not here for a reunion.”, Sam’s expression sobered.

“We’re here seeking help.”, he explained.

“If you say yes, that would lead to a reunion.”, Scott lang was here too.

“Help?”, she asked, Sam and Bucky looked to Scott.

“We have a new threat on the horizon.”, Scott said looking frazzled.

Namor had joined her, his hand found her waist but his face looked terrorizing.

She introduced him to the others, as the king of Talokan and her husband. Which made Scott question what this year was and how long he had been in the quantum realm. A happy smile from Sam and a glance from Bucky.

“A lot has changed.”, Bucky remarked and she nodded.

“We would like you to take your brother’s place on the team.”, Sam told her.

It wasn’t just a place that they were offering, it was the call to a fight, a call to protect and though she could stay away. The guilt would eat her and she would let her brother down. She was the Black panther and with it she carried the creed of protection.

She looked at Namor and there was no need for an explanation, he knew what it meant to protect.

“I am honored.”, she accepted. But their attention turned to the man standing next to her.

“We would like any help we can get.”, Sam told Namor. It was an invitation.

She knew that look well, he was contemplating.

But the moment his eyes found her, he knew there could only be one answer.

“To fight alongside you.”, He looked at her.

“The honour would be mine.”, he told Sam.

*cue Avengers theme* 😵😏

#namor #tenoch huerta namor #mcu namor #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #shuri #the avengers #mcu shuri #loveless #mcu fic #nashuri #namuri

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queennicoleinboots · 7 months

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Taco Thanksgiving Shopping (entertainment purposes only)

Count Vanilla Manilla, Lindsay, and I were at Publix shopping for the essentials of a Thanksgiving meal with tacos because that's what King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear said his sister loved to eat. We also had to take into account that there were vegans at the reception, which is the original reason we were sent to the store.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel flew smack dab into us. We told him about our great bullshit adventures of this year, and he mentioned that he and his wife, Coraline were doing well and that they were in a spiritual war.

Count Vanilla Manilla was rattling off ingredients from his long list after things were, in his opinion, getting too political: corn tortillas, black beans, pinto beans, great white beans, brown rice, white rice, spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, jalapenos, onions, cilantro, serrano peppers, Annie's vegan macaroni and cheese, Daiya cheddar cheeze shreds, red bell pepper, yellow bell pepper, orange bell pepper, green bell pepper, limes, ground pepper, green tomatillos, red tomatillos, Tabasco, Tofurkey, potatoes, green beans, vegan flan, and whole golden kernel corn.

"Are we getting more margarine?" Lindsay asked.

"Oh yes, I forgot," Count Vanilla Manilla said.

"But we are not getting Blue Bonnet," I clarified.

"No, but are we getting Smart Balance with olive oil?" Colonel Mac asked.

"No," Lindsay said.

"Really? That's the kind I usually get for Mr. Williamson and his wife," I said.

Lindsay then stared at me as we were picking up all necessary items from produce: spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, serrano peppers, potatoes, jalapenos, onions, cilantro, red bell pepper, yellow bell pepper, orange bell pepper, green bell pepper, limes, green tomatillos, green beans, and red tomatillos. She said, "I heard Smart Balance wasn't very balanced at all."

"Everyone's been saying that lately," I said.

Lindsay sighed. "Let's go to the margarine aisle. All of life's questions will be answered there," she said.

So we travelled clear on the other side of the store to the margarine aisle.

She pulled out the Smart Balance Margarine with olive oil from the refrigerator and read the ingredients. "Vegetable Oil Blend (Canola, Palm, Extra Virgin Olive, And Flaxseed Oils), Water, Less Than 2 Percent Of: Salt, Pea Protein, Natural And Artificial Flavors, Sunflower Lecithin, Vitamin A Palmitate, Beta Carotene (Color), Vitamin D, Monoglycerides Of Vegetable Fatty Acids (Emulsifier), And Potassium Sorbate, Lactic Acid, TBHQ and Calcium Disodium EDTA (to Protect Freshness)."

"Oh yeah, that stuff is evil!" I said.

"Precisely," Lindsay said.

Count Vanilla Manilla looked up what TBHQ was on his smartphone. "Tert-Butylhydroquinone (TBHQ, tertiary butylhydroquinone) is a synthetic aromatic organic compound which is a type of phenol. It is a derivative of hydroquinone, substituted with a tert-butyl group," he read.

"It's an oil we have no business eating it in the first place," I said.

"Exactly!" Lindsay shouted.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel said, "Wow. What the fuck? Thank Goodness I don't get that. But I must check my butter at home to ensure that there is no TBHQ in it again. I shall return." He then flew out of the store.

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Crickets with Angel wings chirped as they flew through Publix. When we walked by the free sample booth, a FreeLee the Banana Girl video popped up on the screen.

https://youtu.be/ZRuytGHlpNc

Too long didn't watch (or maybe you did): It is about what she eats on a high-carb fruitarian diet... with a bunch of sugar.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and moved on with her life.

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Makolai the Great Arc Angel then screamed as he flew to the margarine aisle.

Everyone in the store looked at Makolai the Great Arc Angel and gave him their undivided attention.

"Fucking hell! Smart Balance invaded my refrigerator! So what if it is on sale?! It is poisoning humankind! I must burn it! NICOLE! Open the glass door with the Smart Balance margarine in it!" Makolai the Great Arc Angel shouted.

I opened the glass door with the Smart Balance margarine in it.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel shot blue death rays out of his eyes and burned all products related to Smart Balance margarine and screamed.

Lindsay screamed. Everyone in the store screamed. The cast of PeeWee Herman also screamed. Apparently, they needed to go grocery shopping, too.

"But remember. Save the Earth Balance margarine that's soy free. It's legit," Lindsay said in a normal voice. She then grabbed the Earth Balance Soy Free margarine and put it in the cart.

The Grinch then hobbled over and screamed. "Smart Balance is a balance of over-price and chemical deathhhhhh," he said. Then he hobbled away.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel then announced, "If we were not making vegan Taco Mac with Count Vanilla Extract..."

Lindsay, Count Vanilla Extract, The Grinch, Sir Paul the Goat, Smeagull, the cast of PeeWee Herman, and everyone in the store screamed. "Taco Mac with Count Vanilla" was still the phrase of the last three years.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel then continued, "Then I would prefer butter or a buttery spread."

"Agreed!" Count Vanilla Extract, Lindsay, other non-vegans, and I said with authority.

"Wait? I'm Vanilla Extract now?" Count Vanilla Extract asked as he raised his eyebrow.

"Not that I use much butter, but I know better than to use margarine on my own account. It is evil," Makolai the Great Arc Angel shouted. "And yes. I dub thee Extract. It's Thanksgiving, a holiday of using vanilla extract. Manilla is not sufficient for your caliber."

Sir Paul the Goat bleated loudly. "But it rhymed!" he shouted.

"In that case, am I granted the powers of baker?" Count Vanilla Extract asked as he walked around Publix with Makolai the Great Arc Angel.

"Absolutely!" Makolai the Great Arc Angel said with a salesangel smile as he pointed his two index fingers at Count Vanilla Extract dramatically. "And a baker's cap and apron to boot!"

"Oh boy! Grant me baking powers!" Count Vanilla Extract spoke with excitement.

"As you wish," Makolai the Great Arc Angel said with a huge smile before he chanted in a dark angelic language.

All shoppers were watching with awe.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel continued to chant as Publix was getting darker.

Count Vanilla Extract was smiling widely, and his teeth were getting whiter. He growled with excitement.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel continued to chant before he sang and danced to Lazy Town's song, "Cooking by the Book." https://youtu.be/ZD71JeX4Vk0?feature=shared

He was definitely one of the citizens of Lazy Town before he moved here.

OH SHIT!

Makolai the Great Arc Angel stopped everything after he sang "Caaaaaaaaaake" for just a liiiittle too long.

Count Vanilla Extract turned into a gray cub who wore the same outfit as the Pitsbury Doughboy.

Everyone gasped.

Makolai the Great Arc Angel looked over and gasped in horror. "OH SHIT!!!! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I held that note for just a liiiiiittle too long. Oh God I gotta reverse this!" he spoke quickly and frantically.

Count Vanilla Extract looked down at his strong paws and grinned widely. "COOL!!!" he said in a higher-pitched Southern accent.

"You're okay with this?" Makolai the Great Arc Angel said with his eyebrow raised.

"YEAH!" Count Vanilla Extract said as he jumped out of his chair. "I can bake! I can bake! Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart!" he started to skip. "And I'm wearing an apron, motherfuckers!" He skipped around the store and growled cheerfully. His white apron swished.

"Awwwww!!!!" everyone in the store said.

"Vanilla Mac is so cute," I said.

He turned around, skipped over to me, and looked up to me. "I like that name more than Count Vanilla Extract. I am a baker, not a count. I was a vampire Cub, so I had to be a Count," he spoke with a cute cub growl.

"YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT!" Makolai the Great Arc Angel shouted. "Keep going."

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," Vanilla Mac said.

Everyone said, "Awwwwwwww."

"You are welcome!" Makolai the Great Arc Angel shouted.

The cast of PeeWee Herman, FreeLee the Banana Girl, the Grinch, Seagull, and Paul the Goat screamed.

"And I am Chef Makolai!" the angel said before thunder, lightning, and light came upon him. He transformed into a chef. His wings were as white as Vanilla Ice. He now wore a big white chef's hat, sea green tie with a cupcake on it, a bright white dress shirt, bright white slacks, white shoes, and a long sea green apron. His skin was as white as snow, and he had a fiery red beard. "Happy Thanksgiving, Mother Fuckers!"

"Happy Thanksgiving, Chef Makolai," Vanilla Mac said.

"Thank you. Also, I dub thee Chef Vanilla Mac," Chef Makolai said with a booming voice.

"OKAY! OKAY! OKAY! OKAY! OKAY! OKAY! OKAY!" Chef Vanilla Mac shouted. "I am only seven after all."

"I have spoken!" Chef Makolai said.

"King Bruce Ice has a story with a title of him speaking," Chef Vanilla Mac said.

"I read that months ago!" Chef Makolai said with excitement.

"That meeting was bonkers. But we really do need to finish this shopping. I don't want him speaking about our tardiness," Lindsay said.

"No thank you. I don't want THAT AS A STORY!" Chef Makolai said.

Lindsay, Chef Makolai, Chef Vanilla Mac, and I continued to shop. We picked up Annie's vegan macaroni and cheese, canned pinto beans, canned black beans, canned great white canned beans, corn tortillas, bags of brown rice, bags of white rice, vegan flan, Tobasco, Tofurkey, and Daiya cheddar cheeze shreds.

Lindsay then looked around the canned vegetable aisle to look for the canned whole golden kernel corn.

I looked frantically for the golden whole kernel corn while Lindsay and Chef Vanilla Mac were absent-mindedly putting the other groceries in the cart.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY CORN?” I screamed loudly to the point where the whole store could hear. The ground shook.

Chef Vanilla Mac dropped the list because he was shocked at the random loud volume of my voice. “Chef Vanilla Mac, find the fucking corn now! What the hell?! Where the hell’s my corn, Chef Vanilla Mac?!”

“I don’t know! I'm trying. Stop yelling at me!” Chef Vanilla Mac said as he was crying and slumping his shoulders.

He was slightly shocked when a woman named Karen joined in with her voice. “Yeah, where the fuck is ze corn? You’d think canned corn would be easy to find in a fuckin’ grocery store,” she yelled.

A store associate rushed to the scene in a panic. “What kind of corn are you looking for, ma’am?” she asked.

Another woman sales associate chimed in, “We’d love to help.”

“Golden kernel,” I said.

Everyone in the store was looking for the corn she mentioned. Even Chef Vanilla Mac and Lindsay were in on looking for it. Lindsay lifted Chef Vanilla Mac in her arms as they looked for the corn.

“No, no, not here, dammit,” a fat Karen said. “Son ov a bitch!”

“Not here,” Chef Vanilla Mac said.

“Is this it, ma’am?” one of the customers asked me as she presented me with a can of God-forsaken creamed corn.

Chef Vanilla Mac randomly farted. It smelled like too much tacos.

“No! I said ‘Golden kernel,’ you stupid mother fucker!” I yelled as I got in her dopey-looking face. “I already told you. ‘Golden kernel’ ‘Golden kernel’ Goddammit!”

“Sorry, ma’am, Lord, please help us find this ‘Golden kernel’ corn,” she said.

The fat Karen interrupted, “SHIT WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS FUCKASS WOMAN'S CORN?”

“All of a sudden my corn is gone. It has been on this particular aisle for like three fucking years. Why is it gone? Where the fuck is the CORN?” I ranted.

Chef Makolai carried several cans of whole golden kernel corn as he flew to the carts we were pushing. Angels and Doughboys literally sang as he flew. It had no added salt, so the angels and Doughboys sang even louder.

He saved Publix.

"Really Publix saved Publix. It had this corn in stock. And I found it. They didn't move it 40 feet down like the Publix on I-11 did five years ago," Chef Makolai pointed out. He flapped his wings quickly for effect.

"But you still found the corn and saved Publix," I said.

He stared at me. I stared at him. We blinked. There was a moment in which I was honored by his existence.

"Thank God Publix can stay alive. Now can we pleeeasssse get out of here!? I would like to get over this Taco Mac with me series and move on," Chef Vanilla Mac said. "And if I have to listen to chemically-induced ingredients, I am going to scream."

Chef Makolai, Lindsay, the cast of PeeWee Herman, the Grinch, Smeagull, Garfield, and everyone in the store screamed.

"At least no one is reading ingredients. Ugh!" Chef Vanilla Mac said as he ran like the cub he was to the check-out.

"In non-GMO, organic, gluten-free corn tortillas, they have WATER, YELLOW CORN MASA FLOUR ENGINEERED BY DR. ROBOTNIK AND MAMA LUIGI, ORGANIC GUAR GUM, and LIME" I said as I read the ingredients just to troll Chef Vanilla Mac.

Chef Vanilla Mac screamed so loud that everyone else started screaming. "THAT'S ABUSE!!!!!" he shouted.

Paul the Goat even walked back in the store and bleated.

Then we went to check-out because Chef Vanilla Mac just couldn't take anymore.

End Credits: https://youtu.be/Tx-oMRYpH4U?si=eIh7N2AX5dOsEC_q

#youtube #family #thanksgiving #tofurkey #corn #shopping #vegan #tacos

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jerzwriter · 2 years

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Newlywed Games with Bree - Halloween Edition - Tobias & Casey

Old-school-ish fandom members remember these! I completely redid mine since I had a different FC last Halloween, and I was at the beginning stages of creating an HC for Tobias & Casey - I didn't even know if they were endgame! Can you imagine? So, they needed a redo (so do Ethan & Kaycee, I'll be working on that next!) Thank you again to @jamespotterthefirst for this magnificent template that inspired so much creativity!

Their "interview" takes place just after their first Halloween together. So they're dating for about 7 months, but the two fools were in love a good 3 months before that. By this time next year, they're engaged with a baby on the way. They moved fast. lol

More below break...

Tobias loved Halloween as a kid, mostly because of the free candy and the legendary parties his mother would throw. Momma Vivian was very, very extra about his costumes. But his mom's costumes were not as much fun once he started school. Fortunately, his dad (Charles) stepped in and asked his wife to tone it down. Tobias was then able to simply be his favorite superhero or ballplayer, and Vivian no longer had to call in favors from her friends from Broadway.

As a tween/teen, he would get into trouble on mischief night (I know, you're shocked!) In his later teens & college, he'd plan an attention-grabbing costume in advance, hitting up local bars where he took home many best costume prizes and usually a pretty fellow contestant as well. This only amplified when he hit med school and got Ethan on board. Though most of those antics were behind him once he became an attending, he still loved a good Halloween party and a good costume.

Casey grew up with parents who doted on her and made a full event out of Halloween each year. It wasn’t just about the day but the hayrides, corn mazes, and pumpkin carving parties that led up to it.

Her love for the holiday carried on into her college years and beyond. There has never been a year where she did not have a costume, and on most, she had 2 or 3. One was usually a fun/tamer choice for daytime, and another racier option for the parties she attended and sometimes hosted. Dating Casey meant you’d have a couple's costume. It was not up for debate.

These two are a match made in Halloween Heaven. Unfortunately, the first year they knew each other, Casey had broken up with him before Halloween, so they didn't spend it together (I have a fic coming up about that). The following year, they went all out. They had a couple's costume ready, and they had numerous parties to attend, but they only made it to one... you can imagine why. In year three, they were weeks away from their wedding (though secretly married) and had a baby on the way, but they still celebrated. Then after that, it was always a big family affair.

Favorite Song: (Tobias laughs) C: What’s so funny? T: Nothing, It’s just that I went 36 years of my life not realizing that I never really lived until I saw you doing the Time Warp. C: Hmm. (Grins) But it’s the pelvic thrust that really drives you insane? T: No comment. C: And let me guess, your favorite Halloween song is... Ghostbusters? T: (Shocked) How did you know? C: Please, I caught you prancing around the bedroom pretending you were Ray Parker, Jr. T: What can I say? Bustin’ makes me feel good. (They fall into a fit of giggles.)

Favorite Movie? T: Don’t say it. C: The Nightmare… T: I said don’t say it… C: The Nightmare Before Christmas. T: Yes. Christmas. It’s a Christmas movie Case. C: Tell that to Jack the Pumpkin King. T: I’d have to talk to myself since that’s what you have me dressing up as this year, Sally. And I say, it's a Christmas movie. C: And what are you dressing up for? HALLOWEEN! You just proved my point! So what’s your favorite? T: Ha! Clearly, I win because you don’t know my answer. C: It’s the Adams Family. T: Wait! How…. C: It could be because you always want to roleplay Gomez and Morticia. T: Hey, Gomez is my man! We have a lot in common. C: Such as? T: We both know what we’ve got, and we appreciate it! (He winks and pulls her close, trailing kisses up her arms.) C: (Laughing) And I don’t even have to speak French!

Favorite Candy?

C: (Immediately screams) Kit-Kat!!! T: Then why do you always steal my Butterfingers? C: Because they’re equally delicious. T: Then share your Kit-Kats with me! C: No.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FUNNY COSTUME ON YOUR PARTNER?

(Casey flips over a picture of Tobias dressed as Prince.) T: OK, you need to tell me what is funny about Prince. C: There is nothing funny about him, but you dressed as him... that’s a whole other story. T: You told me I was sexy, we ... you know what we did... for hours. Now it's funny? C: It's funny in a very sexy way. T: Whatever. (Shakes his head and flips over a picture of Casey dressed as Elle Woods.) C: Now, what’s funny about Elle Woods! T: (Picks photo up, leers at it lecherously with a lecherous grin on his face) Not a damn thing. C: (Smacks his shoulder to bring his attention away from the picture.) So why did you pick it? T: It’s just funny to think of you in law school.

C: I can't really disagree with you on that. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE HOT COSTUME ON YOUR GIRL/BOYFRIEND?

(Tobias tries to flip his picture of Casey over first, but she beats him, dropping a photo of him dressed as a shirtless baseball player.)

T: Wait, this was the year before we were dating. C: I know. T: But we were at that party together... I knew you were checking me out. C: I was not checking you out. T: Casey, we're together now. You can admit it.

C: OK, I was not checking you out... much... until you took your damn shirt off.

T: (Chuckles) Pretty irresistible, right?

C: You're an ass. Of course, YOU were all over me that night, and you didn't even know it was me.

T: I knew it was you. But I had to pretend I didn't know it was you because you weren't talking to me at the time. C: But I knew it was you. That makes no sense. T: Can we get back to how hot I looked shirtless. C: No. T: Ok, so let's talk about how jealous you were of that nurse who was flirting with me. C: I was not! T: Were too. What was her name again? C: (Instantly) Sophia. And I was not jealous. T: Which is why you recalled her name instantaneously. Sorry, Case, you just should have gone out with me sooner. C: (Appears annoyed but laughs.) Yeah, we probably missed out on a hell of a good time that night. T: I’m sure. At least you eventually came to your senses. C: (Swatted at him and laughed) So what do you have to share? T: (Flips a photo of Casey dressed as a very sexy angel.) C: T!!! (She grabs the photo). That wasn’t a Halloween costume!! T: Oh? Do you mean our roleplay costumes don’t count? Damn it. (He laughs.) C: You know damn well they don’t! (Raises her eyebrow at him.) Because I know damn well you have some others you liked more than this one. T: Yeah (grins), but I’m not sharing them. (Both laugh) WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COUPLE’S COSTUME THAT YOU HAVE WORN WITH YOUR BOY/GIRLFRIEND?

(Tobias tries to flip his first, but Casey wins again.) T: Damn it! C: That’s the thing about youth; we’re quicker! T: I’ll remind you about how dissatisfied you are with your old man's moves later. What have we got here? (He picks up the picture). C: T, we’ve gotten dressed up together once; we haven’t been together too long, remember? T: And whose fault is that? (Grins) C: That’s why I was so anxious to go first, now I have shown the world our amazing Beetlejuice & Lydia costume, and we’re done here. T: Yes, it’s amazing, but no, we’re not done. C: We’re not? T: No. (He flips a photo of them dressed as Aladin & Jasmine.) C: Oh my God! I forgot about this! T: You lie like the rug we were sitting on. C: It’s a carpet, T! I just didn’t think of it because it wasn’t Halloween. We were just cheering the kids in peds up. It was so nice of you to offer to be Alladin after Raf got sick and couldn’t come. (She kisses his cheek.) T: Yeah, I’m just that kind of guy. Do you know what my favorite part of this picture is? C: The cute little therapy dog on my lap? T: No. He was a nuisance. I was thinking positioning. C: (Smirks.) Really? T: Don’t act all innocent! Look at that hand action going on there. And in front of the children, Casey! I'm disappointed in you! C: It was nothing inappropriate! I was holding on because we were on a magic carpet ride and… T: Heh, heh, heh… C: Well, we did start dating shortly after this. T: Yep. POSITIONING.

Monster Mash or Thriller?

In Unison: Thriller. T: If there were any question, we’d have to break up on the spot. (She hits him.)

Apple Treats or Pumpkin Treats?

C: Pumpkin! (Simultaneously) T: Apple! C: That’s only because you’ve never tried pumpkin. T: And I never will. C: Yes, you will. T: How? C: Food play. T: (Shrugs shoulders) OK, maybe I’ll like it. (Casey laughs)

Fruit Candy or Chocolate Candy?

In Unison: Chocolate. T: Again, if there were a question, we’d have to split. C: You’re so full of it. T: What? I have standards!

Trick or Treat, or Hand Out Candy?

C: Both. T: I’ve never handed out candy before. But I have been informed that I like it now. C: Damn right you do. T: You see.

Horror Movies or Kid-Friendly Movies?

C: If I had to pick, kid-friendly. T: Casey hates horror films. C: I HATE them. T: That’s what I just said. C: I was emphasizing. T: OK (he rolls his eyes)

Creepy Costumes or Cute Costumes?

T: I can go either way. They both won prizes for me in the past. C: Hmmm. T: What? C: Prizes. (In air quotes.) T: (Lifts her hand and kisses it.) Long before I met you, dear. And like you never had "prizes" of your own. C: Next!

On your partner: Sexy or Funny Costume?

T: Heh, heh. C: His answer is sexy. T: And yours? C: It has to be sexy, baby. You’re sexy in everything. T: So, if I got a Fred Flintstone costume, you’d… C: Let you go all caveman. T: (Smiles and shakes head). God, I love her.

Perma All: @a-crepusculo @aishwarya26 @animesuck3r @annfg8 @annoyingmillenialnewbie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @different4strawberry @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheartt @fayeswiftie @forallthatitsworth @genevievemd @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lilypills @lucy-268 @mainstreetreaderr @mysticalgalaxysstuff @ofmischiefandmedicine @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @peonierose @peonyblossom @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @toadfrog26 @trappedinfanfiction @uneravine @youlookappropriate @zahrachoices @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @openheartheadcanons

Tobias Only: @icecoffee90

#open heart #tobias carrick #tobias x casey #tobias carrick x mc #open heart choices #semi-mature content #i guess?#not really - but people...

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crazyworldofemmamarie · 8 months

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Day 5 of Rammstein's Countdown to Halloween:

Tonight, is a new one and it's Children's of the Corn (2022 dir. Kurt Wimmer)

As an aviant horror geek, of course I started with Stephen King. My top stories, Carrie, Th Shining and of course, Children of the Corn.

Now, I'm a OG girl and I definitely prefer the 1984 version directed by Fritz Kiersch that follows physician Burt Stanton and his girlfriend as they navigate through a small town that is overrun by children who fallow a being known as He Who Walks the Rows by killing any adult that crosses their path. This was a breath of fresh air.

Of course you would always notice the differences between the orginial and the new rendition of things and yes, obviously the story includes a evil young boy named Issac as the kids' leader and this this version it was a girl named Eden; I noticed that the story had the kids as the main characters and the focus and not the adults, for example the hero is a young adult/child. Which is interesting.

Another thing, I am not the kind who enjoys giving villains sympathetic stories, I didn't mind them doing that for the kids in this film. Now to be fair, the adults Infound were very stereotypical and predictably terrible. Though they obviously found a way though to make that more satisfying when the children strike.

The writing for the children was well done. I found the kids were able to come off very creepy or odd. I especially found that for the lead villian and the same could be said for acting from the younger actors and once again, the lead villian was absolutely brilliant in her role. She wasn't creepy, but she was sadistic and I appreciate that a lot.

The costumes were interesting. Very modern, then theresome vintage 70s style I noticed and costumes really defined one character from another is which important I think. Pushes the story in a certain direction.

The way they portrayed He Who Walks the Rows is creative I really liked it and the film was surprisingly gory. Like, I don't thing the 1984 version is as bloody.

Either way, I highly recommend both and besides, everyone should watch at least one Stephen King film for spooky season.

#rammstein's countdown to halloween 2023 #horror #children of the corn 2023 #stephen king

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charlenasaxen · 3 months

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Queen of Hearts Quotes pt. 3

“just before she woke, her mind was battered with images of Wardley, the love of her life, who had fractured her heart”

“he rode behind her, his eyes never leaving her back for long. Everywhere she turned, he was there, and each time their eyes met, Dinah was flooded with fresh pain.”

“Wardley.” Her voice was barely a pleading whisper, choked with a restrained sob. “Please, leave me alone. I can’t bear to be near you right now.”

“Wardley’s eyes lingered pitifully on her face before he spurred Corning off”

“Should you disrespect me again, you’ll find yourself in shackles at the end of the line, trying your best to keep up with their steeds”

“Yes, my queen.” He began kissing her hand repeatedly.

“will become my men once the war is over. I do not wish to inherit an empty palace with only ghosts to haunt its walls”

“We do not have the men or resources to lay a siege. We must win the first push, or else we will lose.”

“Bah-kan lunged for Belft but was blocked by Wardley, who leaped in between them. All parties fell to the ground in a fury.”

“A young one. His name was Kingsley.” The commander of the Spades paused. “He was a good lad. Had a knack for the lyre.”

The sharp blade pressed into his neck.

“Do you want to say that again?” she whispered. “Say it so everyone can hear.”

“cradling their blackened, cracked heels in her hands.

Remember this.”

“Sir Gorrann handed her a spitting torch, and with grim determination Dinah set their bodies aflame”

“for the last moment with their fallen comrades.”

“Now, if everyone would just calm down. Let’s say farewell to our friends.”

“Wardley was galloping Corning up and down the line between the Spades and the Yurkei camp, daring anyone to cross the line”

“Dinah began violently shoving her way to the center. Sir Gorrann was beside her, his sword out.”

“two Spades burst out of line behind Wardley and Corning and charged”

“a miracle from the Wonderland gods, my queen,” he said through his sniffled sobs. “Can’t you see?”

“I believe it’s a gift. A gift for someone who needs it. Just look at it. How could it not be seen as anything but a miracle?”

“Both were left stunned by its massive size and awe-inspiring divinity”

“birds fell from their nests with ice-covered chicks hidden under their wings”

“Harris had been wrong. The Sky Curtain hadn’t been a gift.

It was a warning.”

“she would rather die by whatever split the sky than be this close to the man she could never have”

“Stretching down from the stars, the midnight-blue curtain divided the line”

“stars blinked back at her, so close that she could touch them”

lowered his voice to an awed whisper—“it’s something I believed I would never see again.”

“she wished that Harris could be here, to see the thing that had so touched his heart”

“Celestial bodies spun and moved inside the shifting cloak, their depths unfathomable and ancient. The king, wherever he was, was surely looking out at it.”

“Dinah! Stop! Don’t get too close to it!”

She turned around and saw Cheshire running toward her.

“She felt Cheshire’s hand on the back of her cloak, pulling her away. She reached up and undid the feather-shaped clasp.”

“The cloak fell away from her body, and Dinah stepped inside.”

“a warning to those who didn’t know that their fates would be forever altered by her fury”

“His lips curled back, and for a moment Dinah thought he might eat her”

Morte had pulled her out of the Sky Curtain.

“I’m here. I’m here,” she breathed.

“bringing it down hard beside her head, a deadly serious reprimand. The ground beneath it cracked”

“She’s fine,” he muttered to himself. “She’ll be the death of me, but she’s fine.”

“then the curtain vanished, as quickly as it came, flickering out like a dying flame.”

“I believe you’ve just made yourself a god.”

The funeral pyre sparked to life again, gentle crackling.

“Incredible,” breathed Wardley.

“Should we call you the Sky Queen?”

“Just queen will be fine.”

The Spade commander grinned.

“It was a warning to us, but also about us. War is inevitable.”

Sir Gorrann looked out at the Yurkei warriors, still on their knees.

she felt the creeping presence of someone watching her.

“Hello, Cheshire.”

“Hello, daughter.”

“She much preferred the scheming, genius Cheshire to the kind, fatherly Cheshire. It was obviously quite unnatural for him.”

“You can marry him, you can kill him, you can make him your boudoir slave.”

“No!” snapped Yur-Jee, using his new favorite word. He was still warming up to Dinah.”

“to show the men that while she ruled over them, she served them as well”

“Morte is not my steed. He is a soldier, under my command.”

“He could kill yeh, and think of how embarrassing it would be to lose yer life to yer own horse.”

“A talented painter among the Spades had amended the banners to include a red heart, broken down the middle”

kissing Dinah on the forehead. “Sleep well, Queen.”

“I would like to stay with you. As guard, once you are queen. It would bring me great honor.”

“the Yurkei did not bow to Dinah, only to Mundoo, and so Ki-ershan had just committed his life to Dinah as his queen”

“her heart sank. It wasn’t a man. It was a tall boy, no more than thirteen, pale and wild-eyed. He drew labored breaths.”

“taking him gently in her arms. He was almost the same age as Charles.”

touched his hair gently. “Why did you do this? Where is your family?” The boy’s eyes were fluttering.

“The king . . . the king . . . he took my family”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t . . .” His mouth gave a final tremble.

“the dark spot underneath Charles’s head, of the crown he made that she would never wear.”

“it’s big enough to sustain my rage and my mercy.”

“There were no stars that night, for even they trembled at what lay before them”

“a mad laugh that made her sound just like Charles. In Spades.”

“for my family, for the thousands of Yurkei, and for the innocent people of Wonderland he has murdered”

Dinah bent forward and kissed him on the forehead. “Thank you,”

his eyes filling with tears. “Oh, my fierce warrior.”

“They lined the walkway from her tent to Morte, who waited for her at the end of a long column”

Wardley, devastatingly handsome in his silver armor, stepped up beside her. The crowd fell silent.

“All hail the Queen of Hearts!”

“Will you join me, my friends and men? Will you march to Wonderland Palace beside me?” Their roar shook the ground. “The king waits for us. Let us go and meet him!”

“Facing Dinah on the south side, holding every manner of hideous weapon, Clubs grunted”

“voices rising and falling like thunder over the open ground. It was the sound of a united army”

“A small smile crept across her face. Of course Cheshire would be bored.”

“Then he turned, straight for the Heart Cards, and drew his sword. With loud whoops, Mundoo’s troops began galloping wildly.”

“Morte realized the gravity of the moment and for once stood perfectly still, his head raised with pride.”

“Wardley, I love you. I always have and I always will.”

“I know, Dinah. And with the gods as my witnesses, I will die beside you today or see you crowned queen.”

“Wardley held out his hand and she took it, lacing their fingers together. Together they stood for a moment.”

The Queen of Hearts released the reins.

“Go.”

“Dinah recognized him—he had been one of her palace guards”

“Unaware Dinah was gone in the midst of his battle fervor, Morte whirled and galloped”

“Crawling through the bloody mud, Dinah reached her sword and lifted it just in time”

“Dinah looked up in shock and relief as she saw Wardley emerge”

“He clasped his arms around her waist. She slumped against him. Together they ran through the fighting hordes.”

“in the second that he measured his aim, she buried her own dagger in his neck”

“She fought in time with Wardley now, a mirror image of the dance they had perfected years ago”

“The Jabberwocky!” screamed Wardley. “Move!”

Together, they ran as quickly as they could.

“Get down, swords up!”

Wardley slammed to a stop and pulled Dinah beside him.

“Get down!” she screamed, waving her arms frantically. He looked up just in time to see an agonizing death hurtling toward him.

“A pool of blood crept out from under the net”

“she saw Sir Gorrann shake himself off and head back into the fray. Her heart resumed beating.”

“Starey Belft, commander of the Spades, did not emerge. He was gone.”

“Dinah’s face was wet with tears. Her army was decimated. At least half of them were dead or dying.”

“Dinah spun out of their grasp. Wardley tackled the other man, pressing him to the ground and throttling him.”

“Ki-ershan yanked Dinah to her feet and threw her on Corning, who had found his way to Wardley”

“Screams of pain and the stench of smoke mingled in the air.

Hell had come to Wonderland.

She had come to Wonderland.”

“Juflee sensed that he was being watched and looked up, his eyes meeting theirs”

“With triumphant bellows, her remaining Yurkei and Spades flooded inside. Shouts of alarm rose up from inside the walls.”

“She looked back over her shoulder at the palace. From there she could see it all: the fields of wildflowers now stained red.”

“where she prayed an archer named Derwin Fergal was keeping his coat turned the right way”

“She tightened her arms around his waist, taking comfort in his touch”

Dinah shook her head. “Don’t ask.”

He grimaced. “Pity, I was quite fond of it.”

Cheshire hissed. “I swear on my life that a better crown than this will grace your head.”

“she felt a shard of pain twist in her heart. Was Morte all right? Was he in pain somewhere, wondering where she was?”

“Cards everywhere were shouting in glee, dropping their weapons, hugging”

“She saluted briefly, and an arrow hit the ground beside her with a thump, an acknowledgment”

“She winked at Cheshire in a rare moment of good humor, and he handed her a torch”

“Wardley’s hand wrapped around her ankle.”

“this really is the easiest way into the palace? Yeh made it sound like a stroll across the croquet court.”

“where exactly will the king be?” thundered Bah-kan, who could not keep quiet no matter how much they shushed him.

The two men stared up at Dinah, their faces full of terror. They nodded. “Yes, my queen.”

Wardley’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t lose you today. Not now.”

“I beg of you, surrender and save the men who defend you here. Their lives are still worth something to me.”

“Wardley, his face terrified and furious, kicked her sword toward her.”

“The Spades around the room began to chime in with their own names, names that Dinah had never heard.”

“He dropped his sword on the ground and bent his knee. After a moment, other Cards followed him.”

“she plunged her sword through the space in his armor and then pushed as deeply as she could”

“Dinah pushed him down, the crown falling roughly from his head as he was forced to kneel”

This sad man, her father, her king—was no longer either.

“Charles,” she whispered in his ear. “For Charles.”

The king was dead.

“I am the queen,” she breathed.

“Terrified children sat huddled in corners, crying softly for their fathers”

“bodies lay curled against the vine, as if these men were merely taking a nap in their fragrant blooms”

“Take off your cloak and wipe my boots,” she barked. The young Heart Card fumbled with his clasp.

“The Queen of Hearts took a deep breath and looked out over the Wonderland Plains. The wide afternoon sky was breathtaking—dewy lavender and orange.”

“I will grant her mercy, only because you have asked it of me.”

“I promise you this. I have come to rule over you not with fear, but with patience and strength.”

“Dinah’s own voice caught in her throat as she raised a bloody hand.”

“I swear as the daughter of Davianna, the Queen of Hearts, that I will empty the Black Towers.”

A shower of roses, plucked from the bushes around them, fell around her like rain.

“All hail the Queen of Hearts!”

“Dinah shut her eyes and let the glory sweep over her. For just a moment, the world was hers.”

Soon, she thought, soon I will come back for all of you.

“It’s the queen! It’s the Queen of Hearts!”

He was much thinner than she remembered, but his voice was so familiar—warm and loving.

She took his dear, withered old face in her hands and looked upon it with love. “You will never set foot in this tower again, old friend.”

He tenderly bowed before her. “My queen. How may I serve you?”

“Be at peace, my dear. Rest finally.”

Dinah then bent her face into his lap and wept unabashedly for all she had seen and done.

“These people want to tend to their farms, have their babies, eat their tarts, and live in peace”

“the boots that had walked the vast reaches of Wonderland, and the blood crusted on their sides had come at a great cost”

“Yes. I will show the people that Starey Belft did not die in vain.”

“looked with genuine care upon Dinah’s face. Loving Vittiore as a sister might be easier than Dinah had originally thought.”

“a new coronation dress had been designed by Cheshire, a man of seemingly endless talents”

“encouraged by what she saw. For a moment, Dinah looked just like her mother.”

“which shimmered with the light of hundreds of pink torches, Sir Gorrann waited, dressed in his finest Spade uniform”

“This is where I leave you.” Sir Gorrann bowed and kissed her hand.

“Wardley looked over at her, gazed at his friend with misty eyes”

“Harris was there, waiting like a father on her wedding day. He bowed.”

Harris clasped Dinah’s hands in his own and kissed both of her cheeks. “Finally.”

“Dinah closed her eyes and saw Charles before her, his blue and green eyes peering up”

“then took up the chant, again and again. The choir sang and birds fluttered”

The chief looked to the mountains. “It’s the same with power.”

“Believe that I came to love your tribe and your city, and I would bemoan any loss to your people as much as my own.”

“Remember the cranes that bore witness. Remember our peace and our people. We are of the same land, brothers and sisters.”

“few tiny children chased after the Yurkei, running behind the last of their army with makeshift wooden horses”

“He trusts him. And so do I. He must be king.”

“They stopped walking to let a few peacocks and flamingos strut past”

“He should be able to see the stars. Hire our best stoneworker to create something that Charles would love. I would like no penny spared.”

“she always ended up in the same place—Charles’s empty room, staring up at the window that sent him into that dead, still night”

“Charles was my brother, and his death will haunt me until the day I die.”

“she cradled him so lovingly, as if he were her child. It hurt Dinah’s heart to see it.”

“She had never known that happiness, and now she never would.”

“Dinah saw only Vittiore. The girl who had stolen her crown, and now her future.”

She was only her rage.

“Not as long as I have.”

With both hands, she brought the sword down.

“Wardley collapsed, unconscious, in Dinah’s arms. Dazed, she looked at him, at the tears.”

“Get it off, Harris! Get it off me!”

He simply stared at Dinah.

“Get it off me! I command it!”

“Her sister. Faina Baker’s daughter. A daughter and mother beheaded, an entire family wiped out by the line of Hearts.”

“A tragedy will befall her on the road. Pirates or robbers, I haven’t decided yet.”

“she stared at Cheshire in amazement. Of all the wonders she had seen in Wonderland, the mind of this devious man was by far the most impressive.”

“Take heart that you are more like me than him. So, shall we lie in bed and cry for days about it?”

“a bitter and defeated queen. She’d be loved by no one.”

“in the process, she had become mad. Mad like her brother, the Mad Hatter. The Mad Queen of Hearts, holed up in her palace.”

“Dinah was lying motionless in her bed when Sir Gorrann kicked down the door”

“yer a murderous bitch, that’s for sure! But yer also my queen, and it’s time to rule.”

“this nice, eh, peachy one? This is peach, right?”

“Black, red, or white,” answered Dinah glumly. Any other colors would remind her of Alice, always.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Your arrow shot true.”

He grinned.

“He had lied to her. So many lies, she couldn’t even trace where they began.”

“And you sent me off. Into the Twisted Wood, alone.”

“Dinah, I was destroyed when you left. I kept imagining you lost, alone.”

“Why? Why did you do this to me? You were my best friend. I would have gladly died for you.”

sobs broke loose from her throat.

“It is not who I will be! What do you desire? What do you want from me?”

“Live out her dream. Just go!”

“She was the love of my life, Dinah, and you were my best friend. I have nothing left.”

“The Mad Hatter’s elaborately crafted crown of diamonds sent thousands of tiny lights”

“She pointed to her own splendid diamond crown, resting on its designated lavender pillow”

“Which means that someone else was in Charles’s room that night.”

“Hopefully.” She kissed his ruddy cheek.

“a thread of memory that linked back to her carefree days of chasing Wardley through these alleys”

“Dinah spied one of her brother’s hats hanging on a lower rung”

“no need for such pleading apologies, though I would ask you to have more sympathy for those less fortunate”

Her eyes welled with tears. “It was such a sadness. Lord Delmont was a kind man.”

“To think they died from boiled dove meat . . .” She dissolved into tears again.

“she patted the little girl on the head. The girl beamed up at her like she was the sun.”

“always one step ahead of everyone.

Her father, the man in the purple cloak.”

“My queen, it is so nice to see you about at this late hour”

“The only evidence of your crime. You didn’t anticipate that I would go to Charles’s room. But why would you anticipate that? That had to do with love.”

“No. He waved at you because he knew I would discover the truth. Because he knew you would soon join him.”

“Pride was your fatal mistake. You wanted to give me that crown, because of its glory.”

“All this time it was you, the man in the shadows.”

“The calling card of Lord Cheshire is that he cleans up his messes.”

“You have a crown on your head because I put it there. You marched on Wonderland Palace because I arranged it.”

“Yet, it was all ruined by a mad boy, who wanted nothing more than to give a gift to his sister. Love ruined your plans.”

“Look now, and have your peace. Your daughter wears a crown, and will.”

Sir Gorrann’s voice rose over the clamor. “Orders, Your Majesty?”

“Off with his head.”

“head taken to the Western Slope to be thrown into the sea”

“there is only Amabel. She will be the keeper of my heart until my last breath.”

“Harris swings his pocket watch so violently when schedules are ignored, it’s likely to cut off our heads one of these times.”

“While she loved Charles’s crown, it was terribly heavy, and she only wore it when she had official business”

“A pouting Yurkei, she thought, is something I never thought I would see”

“If you must.”

“I must, Queen of Hearts.”

“But he never jumped. Hopefully, her presence didn’t inspire the leap.”

“Be my king,” she said plainly. “Be my king, Wardley Ghane.”

“I need someone to temper it. A fair king. A good king.”

“I need someone to be its heart. And it can only be you.” She raised her head.

“You are the heart that this kingdom deserves.”

A tear dripped down Wardley’s cheek.

“Dinah crawled up to his feet, her head still bowed”

“Say yes for Alice, and know that she will forever haunt my dreams and waking hours.”

her black eyes met Wardley’s red-rimmed ones. “I’m so sorry, Wardley. For everything.”

“It is your fate to become the next King of Hearts.”

“The man’s name was Lewis. I’ve never met a man like him before. He knew things.”

“You weren’t painted very well in the story. A villain for the ages.”

“I deserve it.”

“though Dinah used every resource available, it was as if he had fallen down a rabbit hole”

“Dinah smiled as she picked it up, turning it in the light. It was a wooden sea horse. ”

“a sound she no longer found terrifying. To her, the sound was comforting, like the trees were calling her”

“when Dinah approached him, letting out a nervous whinny”

“she could imagine the small lives taking place; Harris, asleep in the library”

“Wardley, staring out across the land with a burdened heart, wondering how much he would give for his kingdom”

“Morte began an unsteady walk toward the palace, step after tender step”

“Her heart sang that he had returned to her, and that this broken thing was not beyond saving”

“Dinah felt the beat of his heart thundering up from his chest. A heart that beat much like her own.”

“though many said the handsome queen had never been stronger”

“Dinah glanced back at Wardley”

He nodded at her. “Stay by the heads. There are wild animals in this wood.”

She knew it well.

“The King of Hearts gave her the smallest of smiles”

“As she walked away, she could feel the curious gaze of her husband piercing her”

“She found Mundoo’s head standing upright, a cascade of feathers down the side of his temple”

“blue sapphires that glimmered and danced in the canopied sunlight. Fitting for the hero of his people, and a dear friend.”

“covered with pale blue flowers, the morning dew glistening”

“though her eyes were angry, her face was serene, with a look of wisdom”

“Amabel and Charles, her nine-year-old twins, tugged at each other”

“Wardley lifted her up and kissed her hard on both cheeks, a fierce love for his children”

“The King of Hearts didn’t smile often, but it was always his children that made his face transform into the Wardley Dinah remembered”

“He lived for his children, and they adored him”

“with such a consuming envy that it alarmed Wardley”

black eyes glittered in the filtered light of the Twisted Wood. “I am the queen!”

“Dinah prayed that this time, love would be enough to quench the flame.”

#quotes #queen of hearts #war of the cards #❤️

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dailytafsirofquran · 6 months

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Tafsir Ibn Kathir: Surah Yusuf Ayah 58-62

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.

12:58 And Yusuf's brethren came and they entered unto him, and he recognized them, but they recognized him not.

12:59 And when he furnished them with their provisions, he said: "Bring me a brother of yours from your father. See you not that I give full measure, and that I am the best of the hosts!''

12:60 "But if you bring him not to me, there shall be no measure (of corn) for you with me, nor shall you come near me.''

12:61 They said: "We shall try to get permission (for him) from his father, and verily, we shall do it.''

12:62 And (Yusuf) told his servants to put their money into their bags, so that they might know it when they go back to their people; in order that they might come again.

Yusuf's Brothers travel to Egypt

Allah tells:

And Yusuf's brethren came and they entered unto him, and he recognized them, but they recognized him not.

As-Suddi, Muhammad bin Ishaq and several others said that the reason why Yusuf's brothers went to Egypt, is that after Yusuf became minister of Egypt and the seven years of abundance passed, then came the seven years of drought that struck all areas of Egypt. The drought also reached the area of Kana`an (Canaan), where Prophet Yaqub, peace be upon him, and his children resided.

Prophet Yusuf efficiently guarded the people's harvest and collected it, and what he collected became a great fortune for the people. This also permitted Yusuf to give gifts to the people who sought his aid from various areas who came to buy food and provisions for their families. Yusuf would not give a family man more than whatever a camel could carry, as annual provisions for them.

Yusuf himself did not fill his stomach from this food, nor did the king and his aids eat except one meal a day. By doing so, the people could sustain themselves with what they had for the remainder of the seven years. Indeed, Yusuf was a mercy from Allah sent to the people of Egypt.

Yusuf's brothers were among those who came to Egypt to buy food supplies, by the order of their father. They knew that the Aziz of Egypt was selling food to people who need it for a low price, so they took some merchandise from their land with them to exchange it for food. They were ten, because Yaqub peace be upon him kept his son and Yusuf's brother Binyamin with him. Binyamin was the dearest of his sons to him after Yusuf.

When Prophet Yusuf's brothers entered on him in his court and the center of his authority, he knew them the minute he saw them. However, they did not recognize him because they got rid of him when he was still young, and sold him to a caravan of travelers while unaware of their destination. They could not have imagined that Yusuf would end up being a minister, and this is why they did not recognize him, while he did recognize them.

As-Suddi said that;

Yusuf started talking to his brothers and asked them, "What brought you to my land?''

They said, "O, Aziz, we came to buy provisions.'' He asked them, "You might be spies.''

They said, "Allah forbids.''

He asked them, "Where are you from?''

They said, "From the area of Kana`an, and our father is Allah's Prophet Yaqub.''

He asked them, "Does he have other children besides you?''

They said, "Yes, we were twelve brothers. Our youngest died in the desert, and he used to be the dearest to his father. His full brother is alive and his father kept him, so that his closeness compensates him for losing our youngest brother (who died).''

Yusuf ordered that his brothers be honored and allowed to remain,

And when he furnished them with their provisions,

according to their needs and gave them what they wanted to buy,

he said: "Bring me a brother of yours from your father.

he said to them, "Bring me your brother from your father's side whom you mentioned, so that I know that you have told me the truth.''

He continued,

See you not that I give full measure, and that I am the best of the hosts!

encouraging them to return to him. He then threatened them,

But if you bring him not to me, there shall be no measure (of corn) for you with me.

He threatened them that if the next time they come without Binyamin with them, they will not be allowed to buy the food that they need,

"...nor shall you come near me.''

They said: "We shall try to get permission (for him) from his father, and verily, we shall do it.''

They said, `We will try our best to bring him with us, so that we spare no effort to prove to you that we are truthful in what we told you about ourselves.'

Allah said,

And (Yusuf) told his servants, (or his slaves),

to put their money,

or the merchandise they brought with them to exchange for food,

into their bags,

while they were unaware,

so that they might know it when they go back to their people;

in order that they might come again.

It was said that Yusuf did this because he feared that his brothers might not have any more merchandise they could bring with them to exchange for food.

#allah #quran #revert #dua #islam #help #religion #revert help #ayat #hadith #revert help team

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bills-bible-basics · 7 months

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LABORERS AND THEIR REWARD -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List KJV Bible verse list compiled by #BillKochman for #BillsBibleBasics. Topic: "Laborers and Their Reward". Visit https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see all my lists. "Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn." Deuteronomy 25:4, KJV "Then saith he unto his disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few; Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest." Matthew 9:37-38, KJV "For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace, And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you. And they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive. So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first. And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny. And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day. But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny? Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good? So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen." Matthew 20:1-16, KJV "Therefore said he unto them, The harvest truly is great, but the labourers are few: pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest . . . And in the same house remain, eating and drinking such things as they give: for the labourer is worthy of his hire. Go not from house to house." Luke 10:2, 7, KJV "Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest? behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal: that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together. And herein is that saying true, One soweth, and another reapeth. I sent you to reap that whereon ye bestowed no labour: other men laboured, and ye are entered into their labours." John 4:35-38, KJV "Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour. For we are labourers together with God: ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building." 1 Corinthians 3:8-9, KJV "Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges? who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock? Say I these things as a man? or saith not the law the same also? For it is written in the law of Moses, Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn. Doth God take care for oxen?" 1 Corinthians 9:7-9, KJV "For the scripture saith, Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn. And, The labourer is worthy of his reward." 1 Timothy 5:18, KJV If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.

billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/laborers-and-their-reward-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=102464&_unique_id=654e45762989a&LABORERS%20AND%20THEIR%20REWARD%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List

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lunagb · 11 months

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A Plague of Sleet and Rot (ASoIaF x The Walking Dead fanfic)

BOOK 2 - A Road of Snow and Grime

CHAPTER 1: The Long Road

Masterlist

Summary: A month has passed since Jon Snow awakened on a highway outside of Atlanta and joined Rick Grimes and his fellow survivors. His memories of his death have returned and our alien world is beginning to make a bit of sense. Ever since the loss of the CDC, surviving in the apocalypse has been a daily struggle. The group is on thin ice. Supplies are dwindling. Hope is fading. The dead are walking. And their only chance for life may be a run-down farm, an old man and his daughters.

Relationships: Daryl Dixon x Carol, Rick Grimes x Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes & Sophia, and basically a friendship tag with Jon Snow & Everyone else except Shane.

Chapter Summary: Jon and the group journey down a highway in search of shelter and supplies. Along the way they encounter death, decay and walking corpses while all the while, an ever-increasing horde chomps at their heels.

Time Frame: Farm Arc - TV Variant Adjacent

Featured Characters: Jon Snow, Ghost, Mormont's Raven, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Lori Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Carol, Sophia, Dale, Glenn Rhee, Andrea, T-Dog, Edwin Jenner, Shane Walsh

Warnings: gore, vivid descriptions of dead bodies, child mutilation

[Art above is a piece by Art.of.Azrael. You can support them here: https://linktr.ee/Art.of.Azrael ]

Any notes are appreciated!

“Corn! Corn! Corn!” The pest, Mormont’s raven, complained from its perch atop the RV’s overhead cabinets.

“No! There’s no corn!” Jon shouted.

The damnable raven bobbed up and down, eyed Jon with its scarred eye and muttered nonsense words.

Jon sighed and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“Trust,” Jenner said. The doctor sat across from Jon in the cramped booth of the RV, sullen and sweaty under the glare of Georgia’s summer sun. The past three weeks had done nothing to help the man’s already sour disposition. Lines marked a once smooth face. Grime darkened once cream-blonde hair. A dirty, matted beard hugged his face from mouth to neck. He regarded Jon with accusing, sunken, weathered eyes.

“Yes, trust.” Jon paused to put together the proper words in his mind. “It’s not that we don’t trust them. It’s just that the timing isn’t right. We’re too vulnerable. When we’re in a better position, that’s when we tell them.”

“Keeping the truth from them only makes them more vulnerable. They need to know now.”

“I agree.” Jon made sure to soften his words. “They do need to know, eventually. But right now, such a truth will only serve to dash their hopes. And hope is all they have. Without it, all of this falls apart.”

“No. The truth will make them stronger,” Jenner said.

“How can you of all people believe such a thing? Look what happened to your fellow doctors when they were confronted with the truth.”

Jenner shook his head. “These people are different.”

“Diff-rent!” The pest cawed from its cabinet perch.

“Men have their limits, Jenner. Even the strongest of them.”

“Not just men, remember? We don’t refer to collectives as men in this world, we say people. Keep it gender neutral.”

Jon’s cheeks burned. “Oh, yes, right. I forgot. Sorry.” Jon cursed himself without words. Jenner’s lessons had helped him a great deal in understanding this strange world. But there was a lot to learn and not enough room in Jon’s head to remember it all.

Jenner smiled a gentle smile. “Try again.”

“People have their limits.”

“Good. And yes, they do but I feel like you’re underestimating theirs’, Jon. You and Rick.”

Before Jon could give his rebuttal, the RV’s door flew open. Glenn poked his head through the doorway, struggling for a breath, drenched in sweat. Travel on the highway had sunken his cheeks and granted him a peppering of black stubble. “Guys, Daryl’s back.” The words tumbled out of him then as quick as lightning, he hurried away.

Jon rose from the padded seat of the booth. “Jamie Lannister killed the last dragon king.”

“Huh? Excuse me?”

“Our arrangement. A lesson of your world for a lesson of mine. Jamie Lannister or Kingslayer was a member of King Aerys II Targaryen’s Kingsguard and son of Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West. He slew the man he was sworn to protect with a gilded sword when all was lost for the King’s cause at the climax of Robert’s Rebellion.”

Jenner whipped out a notepad and a stub of a pencil and began scribbling down the words. Curiosity blazed in his eyes. “And what year was that?”

Jon had to think back to Maester Lunwin’s lessons. “283 AC.”

As Jenner scribbled down the date, the pencil used up the last of its lead. “Damn. That was our last one.”

“Have Glenn add pencils to the scavenging list.” Jon turned for the door. “As for our discussion. We will continue it later.”

“La-ter!” The raven swooped onto Jon’s shoulder.

Jenner rose too. “We will.”

Jon exited the RV and the midday sun greeted him; a blinding glare reflected off the highway’s black asphalt. He squinted through the glare and grit his teeth through the heat. Georgia seemed to be getting hotter each day. The summer of this land was relentless. It baked everything, all the time. Even at night while the sun slept, a muggy heat persisted. And still, Jon wore his cloak and mail. A folly, he knew. But they afforded him a strange sense of safety and in times such as these, safety was as luxurious as silk.

Carl and Sophia nearly tripped him as they raced past the RV towards the camp’s exterior, a palisade of broken cars. Oblivious to Jon or anything, they ran off giggling amongst themselves; a rare treat. Laughter had become a rare sight among the children since the CDC. Carl had taken to brooding and complaining. The foolish lad insisted he went on every scavenging trip, no matter how many times he was forbade. Even going as far as wearing his father’s hat with the golden star as if it made him appear more capable. When he was forbade, as he always was, he would spend his time wallowing and raging as far away from everyone as he was allowed. During his sulks, he only ever permitted Sophia for company. Sophia wasn’t much better. The girl refused to speak to anyone that wasn’t Carol or Carl. And insisted on carrying a stuffed pink bear that Daryl had found in a sewer drain everywhere she went. When the girl did talk, it was hardly ever more than a whisper. For the life of him, Jon couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually seen the girl laugh let alone smile, even when with Carl. Oftentimes, when the group made camp along the highway, they would sneak off into the woods. No matter how many times they were scolded, they continued to do it, putting their lives at risk.

Jon took note of everyone and what they were doing. Watching was important. It let Jon know how stable their little community was. Instability would be the death of them and addressing it as soon as it showed its ugly head would keep them alive.

Jenner had taught Jon how the titles of Westeros had no meaning in this world. But regardless, Jon found it useful to think of everyone as having a title.

Across from the RV, the group’s stewards, Lori, Carol and T-Dog worked around a pitiful, little fire. Several crates of supplies surrounded them. Carol, their seamstress, sewed patches onto damaged clothes. She had a heaping pile of work; most clothes were damaged nowadays. T-Dog, their cook, picked through their meagre food rations to organise meals. He had half a crate to work with and not a very large one either. They chatted with smiles and laughter despite the circumstances. Lori, their First Steward, lost herself in her counts. She went over everything with a piece of paper in hand. Counting all their supplies and comparing them to the tally Glenn had left her.

When Lori noticed him watching, she flagged him down with a wave. “Jon! I can’t find any pencils, have you seen any? I need one for the count.”

“We’re out it seems,” Jon said.

“Out!” Echoed the raven.

Lori sighed and kneaded the bridge of her nose. Jon studied her face. Dark bags loitered under her eyes. Travel had tangled her hair into brown, greasy, dangling ropes. Weathered lines marked her face. By all accounts, quite normal. Out on the road, they’d lost the privilege of a consistent wash. Fussing over one’s appearance had become a habit soon forgotten. Mirrors were a scourge best avoided. Jon’s own hair had become a tangled mess and his beard had returned as an itchy shag.

“That’s my bad,” Jenner said. “I used up the last stump.”

“What for?” Lori snapped.

“I have my own tallies to keep, you know,” Jenner lied. “You know, the medicine? The thing that keeps you all healthy?” A half lie.

If it were any other lie, Jon would have corrected it. But the lie was for his sake, he knew. Even after everything, the group still believed Jon to be somewhat mad. It wouldn’t serve to have them believe the only doctor had gone mad with him.

“You should have asked,” Lori scolded.

“Pencils will be added to the scavenging list.” Jon moved between Lori and Jenner. “For now, try making charcoal from the fire.”

Lori wrinkled her nose. “How?”

“I’ll show you once we’re done convening with Daryl,” Jon said.

Carol lifted her head from her work with a gleam in her weathered eyes. Her once short hair had grown into the awkward phase between short and long. Her already thin frame had thinned her to near mere skin and bones. “Daryl’s back?” Carol ran her hands over her stained blouse, flattening the many wrinkles.

“He is,” Jon said. “Feel free to join us.”

“Jon!” T-Dog called out. “Let ‘em know lunch’ll be ready soon.” T-Dog had gained the hearty facial hair of a man. A great curly black beard strapped his jaw, neck and upper lip. It stood in great contrast to his hairless head. The muscles that had once made him as stocky as a bull had shrunk, leaving him lean yet still broad of shoulder.

“I’ll let them know,” Jon said as Carol joined his side.

Dale, who had been working at the engine of the RV, called out. “Let me give you a hand setting the table, T-Dog!” He put down his spanner, wiped the grease from his hands on a rag and hurried over to the fire. His gut, once round and plentiful had all but receded. He'd almost look young if it weren’t for the bushy, wild silver beard and thick silver eyebrows to match. Together, Dale and T-Dog carried over a collection of food cans, a pot of rice and an assortment of potato chips to a long plastic table that Glenn had discovered in the basement of a church.

If Dale hadn’t joined them on that scavenging trip, they’d have never looked at the table twice. But Dale had insisted they bring it back with them so the group could share their meals together. Strapping the damn thing to the back of the jeep had taken a combined effort of the whole scavenging party. And even with the effort of four strong men, Dale, and Andrea, it had been a tedious process. Everyone had thought them mad when they returned with it, themselves included. Although, Jon had to concede that the table had value after all. Bringing everyone together for meals, rather than eating alone, breathed an otherwise absent sense of normalcy into their bleak circumstance. It made them more than a group of survivors. It made them a community. Jon only wished the blasted table wasn’t so prone to collapsing on itself.

Jon followed Dale to the table. “Dale, how goes the RV’s engine?” For a lack of horses or ships, Jon thought of Dale as their Master of Engines.

Dale laughed. “Oh, the old girl’s hanging in there. The new parts we found last scavenge will keep her running just fine, don’t you worry.”

Jenner regarded Dale with a plain look. “And the others?”

“Well… the jeep’s on its last legs. I can keep her going for a little while longer but unless we find some fresh cylinders that fit her engine, she’ll break down sooner rather than later. The range rover’s good as ever. As for Daryl’s bike, I’ll need to look it over once he brings it here.”

“What about gas?”

“Enough for the next stretch of travel, even if the hoard has gotten closer than we thought, but we’ll need to siphon more once we make camp again.” The light faded from Dale’s face.

The mere mention of the hoard caused an unsettling silence to linger over the group. It had followed them from the city. First, as no more than twenty or so walkers but with each day that passed, it only grew larger. They’d done their best to shake it off their trail but no matter how far they drove or how many twists and turns they took along the highway routes when Daryl drove back to check on it, it was always still there, stalking them. Daryl’s last report had counted the hoard as numbering 200 in strength. Jon fretted to think what their numbers looked like now.

The damnable raven broke the silence with two screeching caws. “Hoard! Hoard!” Which earned the bird a unified look of contempt from all. Mormont’s raven hadn’t received the warmest of welcomes when it followed Jon back to their camp. Tensions had already been high and the raven’s incessant cawing had only made things worse. Daryl liked the raven least of all. He’d threatened to skin the bird more times than Jon could remember. Not that it ever fazed the creature. Every time it cackled a caw of, “Skin, skin, skin!”

Jon gave Dale’s shoulder a squeeze and spoke with the voice of Lord Snow, Lord Commander of The Night's Watch. For their sakes. “I doubt the hoard is any less than a week away. We’ll have plenty of time to scavenge again before it makes it anywhere near us.”

A smile reappeared on Dale’s lips. “That’s right. That’s what Rick tells us time and time again, ain’t it?”

“Y-Yeah. It is,” Carol said with a thin smile.

“As long as we keep ahead of it we ain’t got nothin’ to fear,” T-Dog said, grinning.

“That’s the truth,” Lori declared. “And once we find someplace proper to settle down we’ll hunker down and let it pass right over us, just like we do with the smaller herds. Then we’ll be free of the dead.”

Jenner said nothing but the look he gave Jon made his position clear. It wasn’t the time or place to resume their discussion, however, so Jon turned his attention to the only other person who said nothing. On top of the RV, Shane sat in a plastic chair with a rifle in his lap, overlooking the highway. Ever since the CDC, he’d nary said a word to anyone, except to volunteer for day watch. His once orderly hair had grown into an unkempt, curly mess. A once stocky face was now weathered by stern lines and sunken cheeks. At all times, his eyes remained fixed on the boundless highway. Beyond the limits of their modest camps.

“Shane, have you seen Ghost return?” Jon asked.

“Nope."

“Let me know when he returns, won’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Yup!” the raven echoed.

Any disdain the group held for the raven, went double for Shane. Although, it remained unspoken. Shane had hardly spoken a word to the group and the group hardly ever spoke a word to him. Jon figured it better than outright hostility. It had taken quite an effort, but Jon had managed to put Shane’s actions at the quarry camp aside. The past was dust after all, as Maester Aemon had often said. If their group were to survive in the present they needed as many capable hands as possible.

“Ghost!” The raven cawed, interrupting Jon’s thought. “Ghost!”

Ghost had been out hunting for a few days now, as long as Daryl had been gone. Jon had found it best to let Ghost hunt only when Daryl left. All Daryl did when he wasn’t scouting or scavenging was hunt. Jon had once made the mistake of letting Ghost hunt at the same time as Daryl. The direwolf had stolen every single one of Daryl’s kills, which Daryl made sure to let Jon know about, loudly. Game was scarce around the highway. More often than not, Ghost would return from hunts with his jaws coated in rot rather than the blood of game. Jenner had often assured Jon that Ghost couldn’t become infected at all, let alone from eating the dead. Yet, the sight of Ghost's jaws matted with rot always left Jon feeling uneasy. But there was naught he could do about it.

“T-Dog, how goes our food supplies?” Jon asked.

T-Dog dodged his eyes and answered with little more than a mutter. “We’ve got four days left, and that’s if we half the rations.”

Jon glanced at Carol and her twig arms. “We’ll keep the travel light. I’ll talk to Glenn about organising a scavenge as soon as we make camp again.”

“This will have to be our last lunch for while, I think,” Lori said, clutching her tally paper. “When Rick gets back, I’m going to recommend we step back to one meal a day.”

A silent wave of despair washed over the faces of the group, except Shane who didn’t seem like he’d even heard. Jon kept his own face sturdy. Hunger no longer frightened him as it once did when he was a green boy. All he could do was have faith that their group had the strength to persevere. Even when the hardest of times reared its misshapen head.

“I’ll pass on your message when I see him,” Jon assured Lori. The assurance softened her weathered gaze somewhat, but it did not rid it of its despair.

Together, Jon, Jenner and Carol left the huddle of vehicles and crude shelters of the interior of the camp for the palisade of abandoned cars that formed the exterior. Abandoned cars littered the highway wherever the group went. Most had been left in the middle of the road, almost absentmindedly. Others they found crashed into the ditches and barriers that shouldered the highway. The, at first, seemingly useless inconveniences had in time proven to be a vital resource. The cars often had supplies left abandoned inside them. They ranged from the mundane such as briefcases full of papers and pens, to vital items like medicine and food. But even more importantly, the abandoned cars had parts that could be repurposed to suit the group’s vehicles. Jenner had spent the better part of a week recently trying to teach Jon how cars worked. Despite the man's best efforts, Jon couldn’t comprehend the machinery. At least he didn’t believe them to be magic anymore, Jon supposed.

Rick, Glenn and Andrea worked together to roll a car out of the way to allow Daryl to reenter the camp on his motorcycle. A two-wheeled vehicle that one straddled like a horse and had an engine that roared louder than any car. Daryl had discovered it in a ditch a few days after the CDC. He had worked day and night with Dale over the course of their first week on the road to get it up and running. But that was before the hoard, back when they could afford to be idle like that.

Sullen and silent, Daryl dismounted his motorcycle and walked it through the opening in the palisade of cars. His hair, longer and greasier, hung over his eyes. The rugged features of his face were dark, like a storm, as they often were nowadays. Although, he did brighten up a bit somewhat as he noticed Carl and Sophia watching him. Carl marvelled at the motorcycle as he often did. While Sophia, who had been staring at him, dodged his eyes the moment his met hers. Daryl opened a satchel slung around his shoulder and pulled out two brightly coloured plastic packets with pictures of queer creatures that Jon couldn’t possibly imagine to be real.

“Here,” Daryl gave Carl and Sophia a packet each. “Found ‘em in a van.”

“Whoa! Cool! These are fifth gen. They only came out recently,” Carl exclaimed as he marvelled at the packet.

“What do you say, Carl?” Rick said with the sternness of a father. The beginnings of a salt and pepper beard were growing on his face to match his salt and pepper hair. Sunken cheeks paired with sunken eyes. And dark bags beneath said eyes paired with a dark bruise across his temple that he’d earned during a scavenge. A mountain of a walker had come bursting out of a room as Rick passed by. The door slammed him across the side of the head hard and threw him to the floor like a sack of flour. A daring throw of a knife from Andrea fell the walker, sparing Rick from a bite. A matter of seconds had made the difference between life and death. Jon could still picture it clear as day; the rotting teeth inches from Rick’s arm.

“Thank you, Daryl,” Carl said, staring at the packet.

“Sir,” Rick corrected.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sir!” The raven cried.

Carl giggled. “Sir!” He echoed back.

The raven flapped its wide, black wings. “Sir! Sir! Sir!”

“You too, Sophia,” Carol said. More of a suggestion than a command.

Sophia glanced at her mother, Daryl, then clutched her pink bear to her chest. “Thank you, sir…” She whispered. In the next heartbeat, she darted away and ran back towards camp with Carl in tow.

“Sir!” The raven cried.

Daryl scowled at Jon. “That little bastard’s still followin’ you around, huh?”

In another life, that word would have soured Jon's mood. He chose to unhear it. “He is a persistent creature.”

Carol greeted Daryl with a meek smile. “You didn’t run into any trouble did you?” She asked.

“Naw, it was fine.” Daryl and Carol had formed a strange friendship of recent, Jon had noticed. The pair seemed about as unlikely friends as Robert Baratheon and Rhaegar Targaryen. But yet, friends they had become, of a sort.

“And the hoard?” Andrea interjected. “How many now?” Andrea was only four years Jon’s senior, but one would be hard-pressed to tell nowadays. Travel had made her the very image of Lady Stark, only with golden hair. Her face - hard, weathered and plastered with a permanent scowl - granted her the disposition of a warrior. As a woman, she may lack grace, but as a fighter and ranger, she outclassed nearly all of them. Jon could best her in blades, but little else.

The storm returned to Daryl’s face. “It’s doubled again.”

“Four hundred…” Andrea whispered, breathless.

“It doesn’t matter as long as we keep ahead of it, right Rick?” Carol asked.

Rick glanced at her and frowned. “How far out do you reckon it is, Daryl?”

Daryl clicked his tongue. “It’s slowed some. Maybe, a week and half, maybe two.”

“And it’s still following us?”

“Yup. It’s passed over the crossroads and headed our way.”

“That means we can’t go back, right?” Andrea asked. “We’re stuck on this branch of the highway until the next crossroads.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Glenn said quietly. He’d become something of a First Ranger. Always the one to organise scavengings and put together the teams. Dale had helped him study the maps but Glenn had surpassed his teacher as the authority on all things maps.

“We can work around that,” Rick said. “The dead walk. We drive. So long as we’ve got our wheels, there ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of.”

“Daryl,” Jenner interjected. “You should go tell the others what you saw. They’ll want to know.” Jenner shared a look with Rick and Glenn that the two dodged.

Daryl gave Jenner a queer look. “Uh, sure doc.” He rolled his motorcycle off into the camp. Carol followed after him.

“I’ll go too,” Andrea said. Once Daryl left earshot she added, “to make sure he doesn’t terrify anyone.”

“Right,” Glenn said, staring at Jenner.

“Good idea, Andrea. Make sure they stay calm,” Rick said, also keeping his eyes on Jenner.

Andrea nodded and took off after Daryl. As she headed off, Rick, Glenn, Jon and Jenner shared tense gazes. The tension only broke once Andrea left earshot.

“Rick-” Jenner began.

“No,” Rick snapped. “Dammit, how many times do I gotta tell you two no?”

“Come on, man. It’s almost been a month. They deserve to know,” Glenn said.

“We’ve discussed this,” Jon soothed. “The knowledge that we’re all infected will only dash their hopes.”

“I didn’t tell you so you could all keep it a secret,” Jenner snapped. “I told you because-”

“I heard you the first five times,” Rick said.

“You clearly didn’t because here we are. It’s just practical sense. We need all the information possible to survive in this world. Keeping something like this from them only serves to keep them ignorant.”

“And hopeful,” Jon said.

“No, it ain't practical,” Rick said. He sighed and softened his voice. “Right now, they believe that something separates them from the dead. That, us and them are opposing forces. If they knew that the virus lies dormant inside all of us and that only death separates us from them, they’ll break. The only thing keepin’ us united right now is the hope for a better future free of walkers. Once we’ve got some stability off of the highway, then and only then can we take that hope away from them.”

“And when will that be, Rick?” Glenn asked. “We’ve been out here for three weeks now. Last week was meant to be the last week, as was the week before. We’ve passed by a bunch of towns we could have settled down in but you said no to all of them. When is it gonna be good enough?”

“Those towns were overrun,” Rick said. “You saw that, as well as I did.”

“Every town’s gonna be overrun, man. You heard Jenner, the first wave hit everywhere at once. 35% of the population gone.” Glenn snapped his fingers. “Just like that. We aren’t gonna come across a town that wasn’t affected.”

Rick ran his hand through his greasy, salt-and-pepper hair. “Look… I know I promised you that the end of this was near. And I’m sorry I went back on that. But this time I reckon it’s close. We’re out in farmin’ country now. You know the map better than anyone, Glenn. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“We will be passing by some farms soon,” Glenn relented.

“And we’ll check ‘em out when we do. I’m confident we’ll find a place we can settle down in.”

“And how long will that take?” Jenner asked, scowling.

“Not long, I promise. No longer than another week at most.”

“Once we have a place to call our own, that’s when we tell them,” Jon said. “It’ll cushion the blow.”

Jenner shook his head. “You’re underestimating these people. They’re by far some of the strongest men and women I’ve ever met. Hell, even the kids have got more guts than some of the people I worked with.”

“That is where you misunderstand me.” Jon gripped Jenner’s shoulder firmly. “I don’t doubt their strength. Not even a little. But we all know how fear affects the mind. Most likely our group could handle the truth; some even better than you and I. But there is the distinct possibility that they don’t take it well and that risk, however small it may be, isn’t worth taking right now. Not while we’re so vulnerable.”

“Risk!” The raven cawed. “Risk!”

Jenner knocked Jon’s hand aside and his scowl flared.

Glenn stroked his chin. “That… makes sense. I hate to admit it, but it does. But you better commit this time, Rick. I swear.”

“I will. I promise, this time we’ll find a place,” Rick said.

Jenner looked aghast. “You can’t be serious, Glenn.”

“Sorry, doc,” Glenn said with the meekness of a boy.

“It ain’t a tie no more, Jenner. You’re outvoted. We wait,” Rick said.

“Let us put this constant bickering behind us, shall we? So that we may focus on more pressing issues.” Jon again tried to reach out for Jenner’s shoulder but Jenner knocked his hand away.

As wrathful a blizzard, Jenner marched back to camp but, after a few paces, suddenly turned around. “You know, the government hid all kinds of shit from you people before the world fell! Terrible, awful things! It was wrong then and it's wrong now!” Jenner snapped on his heels and marched back towards camp.

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” The raven cawed.

“Should we stop him?” Glenn asked.

“No, he won’t tell,” Jon said.

“You sure?” Rick asked.

“I am.”

Suddenly, the underbrush beyond the highway rustled. Rick and Glenn drew knives from their belts. Jon drew Longclaw. Each of them had a holster with a gun on their belt but they’d run out of ammo weeks ago. The three of them, without a word, formed a small V-formation with Jon at the front and Rick and Glenn on his flanks. Jon’s breath caught in his chest as he waited for the emergence of a rotting, shambling corpse.

But it was only Ghost. He padded out of the woods, nonchalant as a wolf of his size ought to be. They all breathed a sigh of relief and put away their blades. Jon offered his hand to Ghost. Ghost accepted, pushing the top of his head into Jon’s palm.

“Good hunting, boy?” Jon asked. He found his answer in the fur of Ghost’s jaws. It was brown; matted by rot.

Jon stomached the unease with a sort of sullen grace and turned back to Rick. “There’s something else we must discuss.”

“Sure, hit me.”

“With regards to our food. We’re running dangerously low. T-Dog and Lori both agree that we need to cut rations if we are to go more than couple more days with food. Lori has even suggested we cut back to one meal a day.”

Rick blinked at Jon, unfazed. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“I also promised them we’d keep this travel short and so that we might scavenge soon.”

Rick nodded. “Glenn, how far out are the farms?”

“Not far, a day at most.”

Rick nodded again. “We’ll take a day to pack, and a day to travel. Glenn, put together a team for scavenging when we arrive at the farms, a big one. Jon, get some rest, it’s past time. I don’t want you dozin’ off during night watch.”

“As you command.” Jon caught himself at the last moment. He didn’t bow his head or utter the courtesy, remembering what Jenner had taught him. There were no Lords or Kings in America.

***

They left their camp at first light in a single file of four vehicles. Daryl rode out ahead on his motorcycle, alone. It had been Jon who suggested making Daryl their scout. “The road will undoubtedly be full of blockages. Abandoned cars, walker herds and who knows what else,” he had told them. Jon knew what else. He didn’t dare say it, even to Rick; the distinct possibility that other people may want what little they have. Men are cruel in the best of times, let alone times like these.

While Daryl scouted ahead, Shane’s jeep led the way carrying only Shane, Ghost and the plastic long table. Jon would have preferred Ghost to travel with him but the direwolf was far too massive to fit anywhere else. Ghost could run fast, faster than any horse but the unnatural pace of an engine outmatched even him. Jon could have rode with him, there was room enough but all men must sleep and he was oh so tired.

Per Rick's command, Jon lay in the back of the RV, on a bed with a mattress of stone and sheets as thin as paper. He gazed out the back window at the tail of their column of cars. T-Dog drove a car known as a range rover. It carried all their supplies; food, water, medicine, clothes, camping gear; all scavenged. The meagre size of the supplies put the range rover's spacious interior to waste. Andrea sat beside T-Dog with an ammoless rifle in her lap, watching the woods with suspicion.

Everyone else road with Jon in the RV, in the middle of the column, in silence. Travel was often accompanied by silence. It ought to make for easy sleeping and yet, Jon lay awake, staring at the woods through the back of the RV. Dark, deep and green, the woods were a leafy abyss that followed them everywhere. They absorbed all sound and sight; equal parts shield and cell. Walkers often came stumbling out of the woods. Jon found himself wondering how the poor souls ended up in the woods in the first place. Were they murdered like the corpse he’d found the raven feasting on? Mayhaps. Were they exploring or hunting when the first wave swept across the lands of Earth? Mayhaps. Mayhaps, they’d lost their lives valiantly, defending the weak and innocent.

The rising sun twinkled off the green abyss oh so beautifully.

A voice spoke. A hand gripped his shoulder. Jon awoke staring at the RV’s waxy, peeling ceiling but he could not remember falling asleep. “Jon.” The hand shook him. Rick loomed over him. “Get up.”

The weight of a mind bogged down by sleep weighed on Jon as he rose from the RV’s bed. “Have we arrived?”

“No.”

“No!” The raven shot over Rick’s shoulder with a flurry of fluttering black feathers and landed on Jon’s knee. A film of wet rot covered its beak. “No!”

“There’s a bunch of cars piled up on the road. We’re gonna clear ‘em out of the way. And there’s a graveyard.”

“Out this far?”

Rick nodded. “Go with Daryl and scout it out. I wanna know how many cars we need to clear and how long we’ll be stuck here. Take Ghost,” Rick said.

“As you command.”

When Jon left the RV any lingering grogginess sobered at once. The stench of death attacked him. It assaulted his nose and throat in a desperate charge, making him gag for the first time in weeks. A ring of cars sat in the middle of the highway, drenched in blood and rot. Rotting corpses piled up against the exterior of the ring. A mound towered, forming a rotting ramp up against the palisade of cars. Inside the ring, a crust of blood and rot coated all. Fresh bodies lay strewn about and half devoured. Scattered weapons sat out of reach of their rotting owners. A huddle of collapsed and bloodied tents as well as several spilled crates rested in the centre. It all festered beneath the scorching summer sun, high above in the cloudless sky. Hoards of fat, black flies swarmed the corpses with a sickening chorus of buzzing wings that rang in Jon’s ears.

The group went about their duties. Rick hurried to help T-Dog and Glenn roll the cars least enveloped by corpses and open a lane of the highway. Jenner, Andrea and Dale sorted through the interior of the massacred camp like a band of crows. They worked together to collect any food, water, medicine, weapons or ammo left behind. Shane sat alone in a plastic chair on top of the RV, watching over the rear with an ammoless scoped rifle. No one opened any of the cars. Not yet anyway. Walkers liked to linger inside locked cars and ever since one tried to bite Andrea all those weeks ago, scavenging cars was done in teams with blades in hand.

Everything scavenged was brought to Lori, Carol and the children by the RV. They sorted them into piles and packed them into crates. Carol sorted the valuables into piles. Lori scribbled everything down onto an inventory with a piece of charcoal. Sophia scrubbed away rot from valuables on the pile. Carl packed anything clean into crates. Judging by the scowl on Carl's face, the argument that always broke out had broken out. The one about the dangers of scavenging and Carl’s age. The lad didn’t know when to give up. Stubbornness was as much a part of children as leaves were a part of trees, Jon supposed.

Jon would have be helping move cars too but per Rick’s command, he went to join Daryl. He found Daryl beyond the palisade and corpses in a car graveyard. A stretch of scattered, abandoned cars that ran the length of the highway. An eerie sight that Jon thought he’d seen the last of. Outside of Atlanta, car graveyards had been an almost daily obstacle. The long and arduous process of clearing them had already added extra days to their journey. Days they could scarcely afford to lose. But it had been close to a week and a half since they’d come across one, let alone one this massive. It stretched on and on, down a straight and around a distant bend.

Jon found Ghost by Daryl’s feet and greeted him with a pat. Ghost wagged his tail and pressed his head into the pat. “I’m to join you,” Jon said to Daryl.

“Yup. Let’s go.” Daryl started off without sharing as much of a fleeting glance Jon’s way.

“Yup!” The raven took flight and flew ahead.

Jon, Ghost and Daryl made their way through the graveyard side by side. They passed by flipped cars, crumpled cars and tangles of twisted steel. Scorched chassis, like the blackened skeletons of great beasts, shivered Jon's spine. Shards of glass covered the road. Jon worried for Ghost’s paws. But the direwolf avoided the hazards with swift and silent, surefooted strides. Rot smeared everything and its stench lingered everywhere, but there wasn’t a walker in sight. Even so, Jon kept his hand on Longclaw’s hilt and Daryl held his crossbow level with his eye, cocked and ready to fire. After a long, silent walk, they reached the bend in the highway. A semitrailer truck had flipped, blocking off seven lanes. It was there, Jon decided to break their silence.

“What do you think this was?”

“Don’t know,” Daryl more grunted than spoke.

“More victims of the first wave, perhaps? Or maybe just a panic?”

Daryl answered with silence.

“And that camp. It looked like some kind of final stand.”

Daryl scanned the scattered cars with his crossbow’s sight.

“Was it recent, do you think? The walker attack?”

Ghost stopped. His fur stood on ends and he barred his fangs. At once, Jon and Daryl stopped.

After a pause, Daryl whispered. “Something’s out there.”

Jon strained his ears and only heard more silence. He held his breath and strained his ears. A faint gurgling wafted through the air. Jon gestured to the turned-over semitrailer truck with his head. Daryl nodded and they climbed on top. Ghost waited on the ground, baring his fangs in the direction of the faint sound. On the truck’s side, they found the raven perched on a wing mirror. With its good eye, it stared out around the bend, at a distant hoard of walkers. Dense and packed tight, the hoard shuffled in their direction. With all the speed rotted legs allowed.

Daryl squinted at the hoard and teetered a finger back and forth in a silent count. “Thirty, give or take.”

“Manageable, then.”

Daryl nodded. “Yup.”

“How far out?”

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, then back at the hoard. “An hour.”

“Not enough time to clear all this.”

“Yup.” Daryl leapt off of the truck and started back.

Jon held out his arm to the raven. “Time to go.” He patted his forearm

With a flutter, the raven perched, muttering nonsense under its breath all the while. It often liked to mutter when the dead are nearby, almost like a sixth sense, Jon had noticed. Although, it also muttered when it was hungry, so Jon had learned to ignore the pest. Yet, he found himself listening anyway.

“Arm…” The raven muttered. “Arm…” It scratched its scarred eye with its wing.

***

Smoke billowed high into the air, snapping and twisting like a dancing black ribbon. The others had already begun to toss bodies into the great fire by the time Jon, Daryl, Ghost and the raven returned. Rick and Glenn took what once had been a young girl – no older than Arya – by its hands and feet from the great mound of corpses. As they lifted it, its arm snapped with a soft crunch and fell apart at the elbow with a gush of black sludge. What had once been blood splattered on Rick’s shoes and stained his stained jeans. Staining them a further shade of grime-brown. Rick neither flinched nor wretched. Instead, he stared at the corpse blankly and helped Glenn toss it into the fire. The flames ravaged the corpse like a pack of hungry feral dogs. Its dress, dirtied and rotting, burst into flames and disintegrated into flakes of ash that floated like falling feathers. Embers twinkled in the ashes, like red and orange stars. As the body shrunk and burned, the flames swelled and whipped. Everyone watched. Some from afar. Some up close. Soon, Rick and Glenn’s turn would end and another pair would take over until the job was done, or until it was time to leave.

Rick turned from the flames and met Daryl’s eyes with that same blank look. “How far?”

“A mile or so,” Daryl said.

Rick scorned the graveyard with a scowl.

“There’s another hoard,” Jon announced.

All eyes snapped to him at once. Except Shane’s. His remained glued to the road at the rear.

“Hoard!” The raven announced.

“Coming this way?” Andrea asked. She remained seated, as did everyone.

“Yes. Daryl counted thirty or so.”

Daryl nodded.

“How far out?” Rick asked.

“Hour,” Daryl said.

Rick nodded. “We hunker down then. Y’all know what to do. Be quick about it.”

Everyone stood as one and went about their duties without complaint. Glenn and Andrea beat at the fire and smothered it with dirt. Carol and T-Dog packed away the crates of supplies into the range rover. Lori supervised, taking count of all. Dale stepped inside the RV to collect t-shirts and blankets for the windows. Jenner followed him for a bucket. Shane turned his chair around atop the RV and watched the graveyard. Carl and Sophia should have helped Dale but instead, Carl ran up to his father, determined as a mule.

“Dad! Me and Sophia want to join Jon in the rear this time.”

“Carl…” Rick sighed.

“Please! We’ll keep real quiet and real low!” Carl promised, shouting. A boyish confidence gleamed in his eyes. “It ain’t fair Jon always has to stay there on his own! Right, Sophia?” Carl looked to Sophia. Sophia looked at the ground.

“Have you asked Carol?”

“Yeah! She said to ask you!” Carl said.

“And that’s the truth, Sophia?”

Sophia recoiled as Rick’s eyes went to her but she nodded all the same.

Rick sighed. “The RV’s safer. You-”

“No it ain’t,” Carl interrupted. “As long as there ain’t any gaps in the shirts or blankets, every car’s as safe as each other.”

“He’s right,” Daryl said.

Rick raised an eyebrow. Daryl avoided his eyes. “Well… he is…” Daryl muttered and glanced at Sophia.

Carl beamed at Daryl like he owed him his life. Sophia glanced at Daryl. A wisp of a smile flashed across Daryl’s lips. Rick kneaded the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. But I’ll be lookin’ at your windows when you finish and if I see even a single gap, you’re back in the RV,” Rick said.

“Deal!” Carl ran off with Sophia in tow.

Rick watched him with a face of fret and worry.

As light as a feather, Jon touched his shoulder. “If there were any real danger, we’d hide in the woods when we encounter herds, or confront them with blades. I’ve been safe in the range rover every time. Every time.”

“Safe! Safe!” The raven cackled. Jon swatted at him and the pest fluttered from his shoulder, still screeching. “Safe! Safe!”

Rick shook his head. “When we encourage him like that, it only makes him bolder.” He looked at Daryl. Daryl looked away.

“What are you guys doing?” Jenner interrupted. He approached from the RV, carrying a bucket. “Why haven’t you got the corpses?”

“Right. Sorry.” Rick looked at Jon and Daryl then gestured to the mound of corpses with a flick of his head. “Come on.”

“Yup.” Daryl approached the pile.

He grabbed a corpse by its ankles and dragged it from the mound. Jon and Rick did the same. They lay their corpses out beside each other in a row. Rick and Daryl drew their knives. Jon drew his dagger. They knelt. Ghost sat beside Jon on his haunches, silent but comforting. Mutilating the dead never got any easier. But it was as vital as stealing from their corpses. As one, they plunged their blades into the dead and opened their bellies into long slits. Black blood wept from the slits like tar seeping from a bog. Jenner knelt and placed the large bucket at the heads of the dead then joined Jon’s side. The four of them spent the next several minutes scooping rotting guts into the bucket in silence. Once the bucket had been filled, they left the dead where they were and started lathering the cars in rot. The bucket held enough to cover the jeep and half the RV before it required refilling from new corpses. By the time it came to lather the range rover, nary a word had been spoken. No one spewed. They were long past that.

Carl broke their silence. “Look, no gaps!” He declared, gesturing to the range rover.

Rick inspected every inch the range rover’s windows. Inside, shirts and blankets had been secured to the windows with a strange tool known as duct tape. It held the shirts and blankets to the inside of the windows, windscreen and back window. They covered them in their entirety and forbade an outside gaze to peer inside the vehicle. While Rick inspected, Dale showed Jon an empty cardboard roll.

“That’s the last of it.” Fear thinned Dale’s voice.

“We’ll find more. Take it to Lori. Let her know,” Jon said.

Dale gave a small nod and headed off for the RV. Jon looked over his shoulder at the distant graveyard. Where the herd was; hidden from view. He prayed they reached these farms before they encountered another.

Rick returned to Carl with the unreadable face of a father.

“Good, huh?” Carl asked.

“Yes,” Rick muttered. “Great job, son.”

Carl grinned at his father then Sophia. She gave him a tiny, thin smile.

“Carl.” Rick crouched before his son and grabbed both his shoulders. “You listen to everything Jon says. You don’t argue. You don’t talk back. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“You too, Sophia.”

Sophia’s smile vanished and her eyes snapped to her shoes. She hugged her bear and nodded. Rick squeezed Carl’s shoulders, looked him over and stood. A wary scowl darkened his dirty, weathered face.

“I’ll keep them safe. I swear it. On my honour,” Jon said.

“Safe!” The raven cackled as it circled above.

“Are you done?” Jenner asked, standing beside the bucket of rot. “We don’t have all day.”

Rick nodded. “Yes. Yes, okay.”

“Yes!” Carl cheered. He flung his arms around Rick’s waist. “Thanks, dad!”

A smile fended of Rick’s darkness and he returned his son’s hug. The hug lingered until Carl wriggled out of it, blushing as pink as a morning sky.

The children stood back with Ghost as Jon and the others lathered the range rover with rot. From rim to roof, they turned the once blue vehicle brown and black. They took extra care when lathering around the engine bonnet. Rot had a nasty habit of clogging engines.

Once the range rover was sufficiently lathered, Rick, Daryl and Jenner left with Ghost in tow. The direwolf was far too large for the range rover. When it came time to let herds pass, Ghost stayed in the jeep with Shane. Shane had no fondness for the direwolf but there was no arguing with Ghost. Trying to move him once he had gotten nice and comfortable was a sure way to lose a hand. Or an arm.

“Carl, Sophia. Come here,” Jon said once the others had left.

Carl was before him at once while Sophia took her time approaching. Jon put on the face of Lord Snow, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and directed it at Carl for the most part.

“This is not a game. Understand? You will keep your heads down and your mouths shut. Silent and still.”

Carl gave him the look of a boy trying his very hardest to be a man. “We will. We’re not scared.”

“You should be. The dead are scary.”

“Not to us. We’re strong.” Carl’s voice dropped low, as low as a boy’s voice could go.

“Strong people fear death, lad. Only boys laugh in its face.”

Carl scowled.

“If you want to be brave. You’ll sit there quaking in your crusty boots until I tell you its safe. Am I understood?”

Carl glanced at the RV. “Yes…”

“You too, Sophia.”

Sophia glared at him with sharp eyes. Jon could only blink at her, as the look to him aback. She looked as fierce as some starved dog at its wits end. The look only lasted a moment then in the next, as her eyes locked with his, she was a meek little girl again, clutching her pink bear.

“Yes,” Sophia whispered.

Jon cleared his throat. “Good… Now, get inside and practice being quiet.”

Carl wrinkled his nose but did as he was bid. He tugged on the car door’s handle and hopped inside. Sophia followed him and the two of them sat in the row of seats behind the driver’s seat. The range rover had an unusual layout compared to most vehicles, Jon had noted. It housed two rows of seats rather than one, and that second row could collapse to increase the size of the trunk. Truly, the ingenuity of this land never ceased to amaze him. Even if it only lived on as relics of a better time.

The raven landed on the roof of the range rover. It pecked at a chunk of rotten flesh and swallowed it whole. “Good,” it muttered. “Good.”

***

The stench of rot clawed at Jon’s nose and loitered in the back of his throat as he sat inside the range rover. A month ago he would have gagged merely laying eyes upon a sight such as a car lathered in rotting guts. And if he had been forced to sit inside he would have been counting down the seconds until he could leave. But those days had passed. The seconds slipped away from him as he sat in the darkness and musty air, waiting for Shane’s call. The shirts and blankets which covered the windows forbade light’s entrance. Shadows loomed over them, like great sentries on a tapestry of filthy cloth. Silence garbed their troupe of rot-covered cars; their shield and their torturer. Without sight nor sound, time seemed little more than a fable. A sensation Jon had grown accustomed to but never comfortable with. It felt queer to not experience it in solitude.

Solitude had been his decision when Glenn first suggested the idea of hiding from herds in such a manner. The RV’s windows – high above the ground – gave the most protection. All one had to do to stay out of sight was lay on its carpeted floor. It only made sense to ensure as many people as possible could wait out herds in its protection. But they couldn’t all fit. Jon had volunteered for the range rover at once. He had armour to keep him safe if anything were to go awry. Shane had volunteered for the jeep. Why exactly, Jon couldn’t say.

But now, Jon sat between two children whose number of name days combined was less than his own. They were still at the very least. Carl was a statue, back straight, head high. His hand rested on his knife's hilt. Sophia trembled, back hunched, knees tucked to her chest. Her arms crossed over her bear, hugging it close. Jon pitied the girl. The shadow of a father hangs heavy on the strongest of shoulders, let alone a child's. Given time, it will make her strong. The raven sat in Jon’s lap, as it always did. Jon stroked its long, black feathers. Nothing else kept the pest from muttering when the dead marched on by.

“Walkers!” Shane’s voice split the silence, carrying high into the air like rolling thunder.

“Down, now,” Jon whispered.

He slid off his seat and sat on the soft, carpeted floor of the range rover. Stiff as a plank of wood, Carl did the same. Sophia scrambled for the floor. On the floor, beneath the windows, their silhouettes were consumed by the dark.

“Feel your fear,” Jon whispered. “But keep it within. Silent and still.”

Silence answered him; the correct response. And silence followed. For a time. Until it began. The faint gurgling and hissing of the dead wafted through over the troupe. The gurgling and hissing grew louder and clearer until the first thump beat like a great, metal drum. Thump, thump, thump. The uneven, soft rhythm of mindless corpses walking themselves right into the cars. But then, a new, unfamiliar sound cut through it all. Tap. Tap Tap. Three beats, sharp and even. Distant and faint. But as the gurgles and hisses drew nearer and the hoard thumped against the RV, it happened again. Tap. Tap. Tap. The same even, sharp three beats, again. Louder and clearer. Jon touched Longclaw’s pommel, stupidly bringing his hand away from the raven.

“Safe,” it muttered.

Jon cursed himself without words and stroked the pest’s feathers, praying the dead hadn’t heard. The first thump came, right against the range rover’s hood. A walker hissed a gurgled complaint. Shadows danced upon the shirts and blankets; the uneven teetering of the deads’ march. Jon did not have to see, to feel Sophia’s trembling. He knew better than to offer a touch as comfort. A touch come Jon’s way though. Carl gripped his arm with strength beyond a boy of eight namedays. His grip trembled as it tightened.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Three sharp knocks rapped against the windows. A shadow slunk along the tapestry of shirts and blankets, slower than the others. It neither teetered nor wobbled, rather it moved as if it slid across ice. Tap. Tap. Tap. The knocks came harder this time; more incessant. It rocked the range rover; gentle like a cradle. The sickening sound of peeling tape dropped a pit in Jon’s stomach. A shirt dropped a mere inch. A slither of light slipped inside the range rover. At the gap, a peering, rotting eye appeared at the window. Tap. Tap. Tap. In a flash, Carl whipped out his knife. Hot wrath burned across his face beneath the slither of light as he kept his gaze locked with the eye. Sophia whimpered and backed up as far as she could with a soft thump against the opposite side door. Every shadow froze as one. The gurgling and hissing gave way to a brief silence.

The eye disappeared and a piercing howl of a cry erupted from outside. The hoard raged and every shadow descend on them. Sophia wailed. The dead wailed back. The car door flew open. Jon grabbed Carl and yanked him back. Rotting hands of blackened fingers and long, yellow nails descended on them. Carl screamed a wailing sob of a scream and stabbed the air with his blade. The mindless creatures fought amongst one another to crawl inside. Jon kicked at the dead with all his might. His heel lay a corpse limp in the doorway. For a brief moment, it clogged the advance. Jon’s mind raced for an escape, for a solution, for a trick. He found it over his shoulder. Behind him, the other door had but a few shadows at its windows. They were scraping uselessly at the door, complaining with hisses and wails. Mere whispers compared to the roaring cacophony before Jon.

“Sophia! To me!” Jon grabbed for the girl.

Sophia screamed as if the dead were upon her already. She flailed, kicked Jon’s hand aside then drove her heel into his face. A rotten hand took hold of Jon’s ankle. He cursed, and caved the walker’s skull with a kick. And in that brief moment, Sophia flung the door open. Screaming and crying, she dove between a waiting walker’s legs and scampered for the woods.

“Sophia!” Jon shouted. Sophia's screams peaked and she ran faster.

Dragging Carl, Jon hurried out of the range rover after her. Two walkers met him. A white blur fell them with a flying lunge. Ghost crushed one’s skull with his paw as he tore the other’s head from its shoulders with his jaws.

“Carl?!” Rick bellowed.

“Sophia?!” Carol screamed.

The others were out on the highway in the thick of the hoard. Back to back, they formed a tight circle formation. They stabbed at the dead over and over and over again, felling walker after walker. Jon couldn’t spy a way past the hoard to join their formation.

“To the woods, now!” Jon shouted at Carl.

Carl nodded and sprinted for the woods. Rick, Lori and Carol all made a move to break their formation.

“Stay where you are! Maintain formation!” Jon drew Longclaw and fell a walker descending on him. “I’ll go after them!”

Jon didn’t stop to wait for a reply. He bolted for the woods, sprinting with all his strength. Ghost stayed behind and fought with the others. In an instant, the woods swallowed up the commotion of their battle, veiling Jon in silence. It didn’t take long to catch up to Carl but Sophia was far off in the distance. Weaving and ducking, she sprinted through the thickening tangle of trees and brush.

The raven flew overhead. “Safe! Safe!” It cackled.

Jon vowed to skin the creature.

"Skin, skin, skin!"

“Sophia, stop!” Jon shouted.

“Sophia!” Carl echoed.

Sophia ran harder but Jon was gaining on her. Roots snagged his feet and low-hanging branches whacked him in the face. He kicked the roots and slashed the branches with Longclaw. Sophia seemed within reach. But as Jon made a grab for her she disappeared with a scream and dropped down out of view. Jon skidded to a halt as the slope of a steep valley presented itself amongst the brush. Sophia tumbled down the slope and crashed into a stagnant pool with a splash. In a flash, she was standing. Sobbing, she struggled to wade through the water on the weak legs of a child. Carl leapt over the edge, splashed down and chased after her with as much the same difficulty. Bubbles rose to the water’s surface. They burst with sprays of mud and black sludge. The bubbles frothed the surface as if the pool was at a boil.

“Out of the water, now!” Jon bellowed and scrambled down the slope.

Three walkers shot up from beneath the water, slick with mud. Their skin hung from their flesh like scraps of sodden cloth. As they wailed a gurgling wail, mud flowed from their mouths. They descended on the children. Two of them headed for Carl while the other perused Sophia, separating the children. Carl and Sophia drew their blades. Sophia held her knife out in front of her with both hands, shaking like a leaf. She faced her pursuer for but a moment only to then wail and turn, struggling through the mud towards the shore. Carl held out his knife low below his hip, twisted so his shoulder faced the dead and shouted a warring scream. The dead wailed back. Jon splashed down, drawing the attention of one walker away from Carl

The mud beneath the water may have been enough to hinder the weak legs of children and the dead, but not Jon. He raced through the pool, surefooted as a soldier marching the King’s Road. His blood boiled hot. A high slash from his valyrian steel rid the once-man of its head, heralded by a spray of black blood from its neck. Jon rushed to aid Carl, the closer of the two. The remaining corpses launched their attacks. One slashed at Carl, trying to grab his arm. While the other's fingers brushed the collar of Sophia's shirt.

Carl drove his knife into the walker’s palm, blocking the attack. He screamed and charged it, ramming his shoulder into its chest. The walker stumbled. It didn’t fall. Carl did. He fell face-first into the water and the walker descended on him. It opened its mouth, ready to bite the nape of Carl’s neck. Jon seized the walker by the shoulders and flung it off onto its back. As it hit the water with a muddy splash, Jon drove Longclaw’s point between its eyes. Its death blood blackened the water.

Carl rose from the water, coughing and spluttering. “Sophia!” He choked.

Splash!

The walker chasing Sophia threw itself at her, tackled her and knocked the knife from her hand. Sophia screamed, wailed and flailed as they both came crashing down. Jon charged across the water as Sophia wrestled the corpse. She took a hold of the walker’s face and pushed it away with all her might. But the walker kept on coming, gnashing its rotten jaws inches from her face. Jon grabbed the walker’s shoulders. Sophia’s hand slipped. The walker lunged and it’s slick skin slipped between Jon’s fingers. Sophia screamed and crossed her arms over her face. The walker sunk its teeth into her forearm. Jon tore it away, taking a chunk of flesh with it. Sophia’s life blood gushed and sprayed as she screamed a wailing, choked scream. Rot festered in the bite.

“No!” Carl screamed. He scrambled through the water, thrashing against the mud’s grip.

Jon cut off the walker’s head before the foolish boy got himself bitten too then wasted no time. He seized Sophia, flung her over his shoulder, raced her to the shore and threw her down into the muddy silt. Jon held out Longclaw with steady hands. Sophia looked up at him, silent and still, her face a mask of ice and stone.

“Hold out your arm, now!”

Sophia did so at once.

“Arm!” The raven cried.

Sophia shut her eyes and clenched her jaw. Jon heaved Longclaw above his head.

“What are you doing?!” Carl cried.

Jon cleaved Longclaw down onto Sophia’s elbow. The blade ate through flesh and bone in one clean cut. Sophia’s life blood sprayed from the stump. She let out a blood-curdling scream and writhed among the muddy silt, wailing long guttural sobs. Carl raced to her side and dropped to his knees, bawling. Jon’s mind raced. He hadn’t thought this far. Jenner hadn’t told him what to do past this. The bleeding, Jon realised. He needed to stop the bleeding. He thought back to lessons from Lunwin, from Aemon. The lessons brought him the answer. A tourniquet. Jon dropped Longclaw and ripped his belt from his jeans. Longclaw’s and Needle’s scabbards fell to the mud.

“Move, lad!” Jon shoved Carl aside and fastened the belt around Sophia’s upper arm until her flesh bulged around it. The spray of blood petered out into a gentle gush. Sophia’s eyes rolled back into her head and she went limp. Her chest rose and fell; staggered and rapid.

Carl tugged at Jon’s cloak as if trying to pull him to his feet. “We gotta get her back! We gotta save her!” he cried.

“I know!” Jon snapped. He flung the lad off of him and hoisted Sophia over his shoulder. She weighed as little as a newborn babe.

“I-I’ll go ahead!” Carl shouted. “For help.”

“No! You’ll stay by my side. Where I can see you.”

Jon bolted past the lad and across the muddy pool. Black blood swirled around his shins and mud grabbed at his boots, trying to suck him down but Jon was stronger. He charged across the pool and struggled to scramble up the valley’s slope one-handed. A short climb was made long and tedious. So tedious that Carl managed to catch up. Surefooted as a mountain goat, Carl raced up the slope ahead of him and waited at the top.

“Hurry!”

“Hur-ry!” The raven echoed.

Jon let his frustration erupt as a beastly shout as he dragged himself up the slope. The scars of his right hand ached as horribly as the day it’d been burned all those years ago. Once at the top, Jon lowered his head and broke out into a sprint. Carl chased at his heels, his face beet-red as he huffed, puffed and choked on sobs. Jon felt like sobbing too. But he didn’t. Strength could save Sophia. Tears would only blind him.

As they burst from the woods, back onto the highway, Andrea fell the last walker by thrusting her knife into its eye.

“Jenner!” Jon bellowed.

All eyes snapped to him. Carol screamed. The rest erupted into a chorus of shouts. They sprang into action at once. Jenner barked orders, pointing this way and that. T-Dog and Glenn rushed to the range rover and retrieved a plastic tarp. Dale got the medical kit from the RV. Andrea hauled over a jug of water. Rick held Carl back, hugging him to his chest. Lori knelt beside him, stroking his hair as the lad broke under the weight of his grief. Daryl restrained Carol who fought feverishly to free herself. She reached for her daughter, clawing at the air. Shane stood idle, watching from afar.

As soon as T-Dog and Glenn lay down the trap, Jon lay Sophia on it. Jenner knelt by the severed arm.

“A tourniquet. Good thinking. Andrea, water! Dale, the kit!”

Andrea dropped the jug at Jenner’s side.

“Jon, clean the wound!” Jenner barked at he snatched the kit from Dale.

Jon twisted off the cap and poured water all over the wound, washing away mud, silt and life blood. Water pooled in the tarp, red and stagnant. Besides Jon, Jenner raged. He flung the kit aside, sending it skittering across the asphalt.

“No bandages! Give me shirts! Now! Clean ones, dammit! Jon, lift her arm!”

Jon lifted her arm up straight. T-Dog tossed a pair of t-shirts at Jenner which were only partially stained. Jenner wrapped the stump up in a shirt. Using both hands, he held it in place.

“Jon, hold it in place.”

Jon took over for Jenner’s hands and held the shirt around the stump.

“Has she hurt her head or neck?” Jenner asked.

“No. Just the bite on the arm,” Jon blurted.

“She was bit?!” T-Dog yelled.

Carol wailed and kicked to get free of Daryl. Daryl buried his face into her neck, hiding his face as he restrained her tighter. His arms bulged and trembled.

“Yes! Why else do you think I cut off her bloody arm?!”

“Doesn’t matter. Glenn, lift her legs!”

Glenn scrambled over, dropped to his knees and lifted Sophia’s legs into the air.

“No, not that high. Twelve inches. Lower. Yes, that’s good. Keep them there.”

Blood began to soak through the shirt. Jenner swatted at Jon’s hands and wrapped the other shirt on top then Jon held the new layer over the old. Jenner sat back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair, eyes darting.

“Fuck…” he muttered. “Now what?”

“What do you mean, now what?!” Jon shouted.

“I’m not a doctor, Jon! I’m a virologist!” Jenner rapped his knuckles against his head. “Come on come on come on come on. Think, dammit.” His eyes widened. “The arm! Where’s the rest of the arm?!”

“In the woods and bitten.”

“Shit. Okayokay. Uh… a plastic bag! Get me a plastic bag!”

Andrea sprinted to the range rover and came back with a plastic bag. Jenner snatched it from her and placed it over the stump bound in shirts.

“Now, ice! Anything cold!”

“Ice?” Jon wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly.

“The hell we ‘posed to get ice from?!” Daryl shouted.

Jenner groaned and held his head in his hands. “God… Help me move her then. She at least needs some place comfortable.”

“I’ve got her feet, ready when you are,” Glenn said.

Jenner nodded and took Sophia under her arms. “Jon keep that arm elevated.”

“Will do.”

“Alright. On three. One. Two. Three.” Jenner and Glenn lifted Sophia together. Jon stood with them, keeping her stump elevated.

They carried her to the RV as if she were made of glass. Carol and Carl fought to follow, but Rick and Daryl kept them bound.

“Gods have mercy, let Carol go!” Jon shouted as they approached the RV.

Daryl looked to Rick. Rick nodded and he let go. Carol scrambled out of Daryl’s arms and followed after them inside the RV.

“Will she survive? Is she infected? Please, god, don’t tell me she’s infected!” Carol cried.

Jenner said nothing until Sophia was laying on the RV’s mattress. When he did answer, his voice was low and grim. “Time will tell. She’s strong though. I have faith. Jon, let her hold the arm.”

Jon nodded and relinquished the arm to Carol. Although Carol trembled and sobbed, once she took hold of her daughter's arm, her hands became as steady as a blacksmith. Jenner put two pillows beneath Sophia’s feet and ushered Glenn and Jon out of the tiny bedroom. He afforded Carol some privacy by closing the door behind them.

“How long after the bite did you sever the arm?” Jenner whispered.

“Immediately. As you said to.”

“Right away? You didn’t hesitate or move her first?”

Jon bit his lip. “Well… she got bit in a pool of dirty water. I carried her to shore first. You said not to sever the limb where infected blood could get into it. But it only took a second.”

Jenner clicked his tongue and glanced at the closed door.

“Do-Does she have a chance? Any at all?” Glenn asked. His olive skin had turned a shade of ghost white.

“Normally… yeah. In a hospital with doctors and antibiotics… Out here though? She might wake up before she passes. At least she’ll be able to say goodbye.”

Tears brimmed in Glenn’s eyes. Jon fought off his own. “I should have never let them in the blasted car…”

“Wh-What do we do when she dies?” Glenn asked, lips trembling. “What do we tell them?”

“The truth,” Jenner grumbled. He shouldered past Jon and marched outside.

The raven fluttered in as the doctor left. It perched on the cabinets and bobbed up and down. “Truth, truth, truth.”

Jon’s vow to skin the pest still tasted fresh on his tongue. But he hadn’t the strength for it. His arms felt as if they weighed twice as much. As did his legs. Every one his joints ached and a rhythmic throbbing pounded away in his head. The throbs came in triplets. Throb. Throb. Throb. Each one more painful than the last. Jon staggered for the RV’s exit. The stale air shortened his breath. As he came upon the exit a searing wrath surged through him, setting his flesh and bone ablaze. Outside the RV, Ghost poised to leap. His fangs bared in a silent snarl. His fur puffed and stood on ends. His red eyes bore into something out of view. Jon stepped out the RV and followed his eyes. A fist greeted him.

***

Jon awoke face down on the asphalt. Blood flooded his throat. Shouting barraged his ears. A great pain stabbed at his shattered nose. With a groan, he rolled over to see Ghost on top of Daryl, gnashing his jaws inches from his face. Daryl squirmed under the direwolf but Ghost had his front paws on Daryl’s arms, pinning him down.

“You killed her!” he screamed. “You killed her, you bastard!” He locked eyes with Jon, boring a deathly gaze into him. Tears stained his rugged, weathered cheeks.

The others were shouting, trying to scare Ghost off of Daryl. But when any got close, Ghost snapped his jaws at them, sending them scuttling back. All was unfocused, blurred by a murky mind. However, Dale’s voice cut through it all, clear as a summer sky.

“You alright, son?” Dale grabbed his arm.

Jon accepted the help and leaned into his grip to stand. He tried to speak but a flow of blood clogged his throat and he only sputtered blood instead. Once on his feet, his vision cleared. Distraught panic had set in among the group. Jon could hardly blame them. Only Shane seemed oddly clam. He stood behind Rick, watching all transpire with a face of stone. The raven circled overhead screeching, “Bast-ard, bast-ard, bast-ard, bast-ard, bast-ard!”

Jon swallowed blood and shouted with the voice of a Lord Commander. “Ghost! Enough!”

Ghost snapped his jaws one last time, inches from Daryl’s face before backing off and skulking to Jon’s side. Daryl scrambled to stand. His eyes were wide, manic pools of violence. He drew a knife. Rick kicked the back of his knee. Daryl buckled. Shane ran forward and leapt onto his back, slamming Daryl back to the asphalt. He dug his knee between Daryl’s shoulder blades and pinned his arms with either hand.

“Stay down,” Shane hissed.

Daryl thrashed. “Fuck your slut mom, pig!”

Shane dug his knee further between Daryl’s shoulder blades. Daryl cried out and ceased his thrashing. Tears welled in his eyes and all the hate drained from him like a flagon sprung a leak. “He killed her, he killed her, he killed her,” he groaned. The knife rolled out of his grasp.

“No,” Shane looked over his shoulder at Rick. “He did.”

“The hell you say?” Rick’s face became a storm.

“You heard me! Y’all know it’s true!”

“The hell we do!” Andrea shouted.

“He’s the one who put the kids in the rear! That was his call. Look where it got ‘em!”

“Shut the hell up, man!” T-Dog stepped forward, fists balled.

Rick stopped him with a touch to the chest. “No… He’s right.”

“Fuck no, he ain’t!” Andrea said.

Rick shook his head. “I should’ve known better. I take full-”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Carl screamed.

“Shut it, Carl!” Shane snapped.

Carl raged. He ran past his dad and drove the heel of his boot into Shane’s face with a wet crunch. Shane fell off of Daryl with a pained shout, cradling a smashed nose. Rick snatched Carl’s arm and dragged him, throwing him off his feet in the process.

Carl fell to the asphalt. He sat by his father’s feet, glaring at Shane. Lori crouched beside him and tried to wrap her arms around him but Carl wriggled free. His fists balled. His arms trembled. He breathed loud, frantic breaths that flared his nostrils. “It wasn’t my dad’s fault! Or Jon’s! Or mine’s! Or anyone’s! It was the walkers!” Carl snarled that last word. “They opened the door! They scared Sophia! They bit her!”

Silence lingered, festering in the air.

“Bit!” The raven cawed.

Daryl struggled to his knees with a bowed head. “I-I’m sorry, Jon. I don’t know what…”

Jon swallowed blood. “You’re forgiven.” He wiped the blood from his gushing nose, freed himself of Dale’s support and stepped forward. “Talk of blame is a folly best left for times of peace.”

“Folly,” Shane chuckled. He spat blood onto the asphalt. “Shut the hell up, kid.”

Lori stepped forward in front of Carl. “Go back to your little plastic chair, Shane.”

Shane’s face of stone shattered into a meek little scowl and he shambled off.

“Best we organise ourselves,” Jon continued. “Focus on solving this crisis rather than on where it originated.”

The group shared a round of nods before looking to Rick as one. Rick put on the face of a lord as he addressed them.

“Jenner?” he asked. “What do we need to save her?”

Jenner sighed. “A hospital.”

Rick nodded. “Glenn, does the town we’re headin’ to have a hospital?”

“Uh, kinda. It has a clinic and a vet.”

“Will that do, Jenner?”

“I mean… they might have antibiotics and painkillers if it hasn’t been picked clean already. But that won’t be enou-”

“Great,” Rick interjected. “Glenn, how far of a walk to the town from here?”

“I don’t know… it’s like twelve miles and that’s if we go straight. That way,” Glenn pointed to the woods, from the direction Jon had come from.

“Half a day.” Daryl mumbled, staring at the asphalt.

“We’ll need a team, who do you think, Glenn?” Rick asked.

“Let’s keep it small. We gotta move fast. You, me, Daryl and Jon. Together, Daryl’s sense of direction and Ghost’s senses will be better than any map. And Ghost only goes where Jon goes. Maybe leave the raven though, if you can.”

“If I would, I could,” Jon said.

“Could would! Would could!” The raven cawed.

“Jenner too,” Rick said.

“Why me?”

“You know what we’re lookin’ for, and you’ve done all you can for her here.”

Glenn nodded. “Makes sense. Jenner too, then.”

Jenner sighed and looked to Lori. “Taking care of her is simple. Change her bag every few hours. Change the shirts in the morning. Wash the wound between shirt changes. Keep her legs elevated and her arm. Can you manage that?”

Lori nodded. “We can.”

“Andrea, you’re in charge while we’re gone,” Rick said.

“I’ll keep ‘em safe. You just hurry along now,” Andrea said.

***

Longclaw lay in a bed of mud and silt beside its scabbard and Needle and Sophia’s rotting, severed hand. Jon sheathed the valyrian blade and attached it and Needle back to a new belt. After ensuring the latches were secure, Jon scooped up a handful of mud and covered the hand. Rot had already corrupted the severed limb. The skin had blackened and shrivelled. The fingers had curled into hooks. Covering it was a mercy. Jon saw no point in returning it to Carol. It bore no resemblance to human flesh, let alone Sophia. It more resembled rotting fruit than anything. It’d only serve as a reminder that hope is as slippery as ice; hard to grasp, harder to hold.

Jon smoothed mud and silt over the shrunken black thing and rose to his feet. Atop the slope of the valley, Ghost sat by Rick’s side, watching Jon with those piercing red eyes. A great sadness snuck up on Jon, forming a pit in his stomach. The cut on his nose gifted to him by Daryl itched.

“Got your sword?” Rick asked.

Jon nodded and patted the scabbard.

“Alright, well come on. Get up here. Let’s get a move on.”

“Right. As you command.”

Rick gave him a queer look, which Jon chose to ignore. Jon waded through the murky, stagnant pool. Black blood still floated on the surface, swirling around his legs as he waded through it. Amongst the mud and rot, Jon spied something bobbing on the surface. Something fuzzy. Hair, he realised. A walker. He froze, drew Longclaw and thrust the tip of the blade into the hair. But no black blood flowed into the water and there was no squelch of a blade piercing flesh. Jon lifted Longclaw to find Sophia’s bear skewered on the blade. No longer pink. Only black and brown and now with a hole through its chest. Jon sighed, freed the toy from his blade and tucked it under his belt. He wiped the grime off of Longclaw, sheathed it and started the climb up the slope.

With two hands instead of one, the climb was swift and smooth. Yet, the burn scars on his right hand still throbbed all the same. They hadn’t throbbed in years. Each throb flooded Jon with a scorching heat that clenched his jaw. I should have been able to save her. Sophia is but a girl and I am a man grown; a man of the Night’s Watch no less. When he clambered over the slope’s edge, he found Ghost baring his fangs. Jon looked behind him but saw nothing.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Jon asked, standing.

“Wrong?” The raven asked, perched high in a nearby tree.

Ghost put away his fangs and wagged his tail. Jon shook his head and ignored the queerness.

“That Sophia’s?” Rick asked, pointing to the bear.

“It is.”

“Good. Don’t lose it. She’ll need somethin’ to make her feel safe. More now than ever.”

Jon nodded. “I’ll keep it safe, I promise.”

Jon, Ghost and Rick joined the others waiting a little further ahead.

“Find it okay?” Glenn asked.

“Yeah, my gun too.”

“Good, that sword’s too valuable to lose out here.”

“Agreed.”

“Sword!” The raven cawed, flying overhead.

Jon expected Daryl to insult the pest, but the rugged man only stared out into the woods, away from everyone else.

“Come on, let’s get a move on,” Jenner grumbled.

“Glenn? Which way?” Rick asked.

Glenn unfolded a map and frowned. “North… I always used the highway to orient where we were. But now…” Glenn looked around at the green abyss that surrounded them. “Without a compass, I have no idea.”

“Ghost,” Jon said. The direwolf pricked up his ears and met his eyes. “Find, North.”

Ghost raised his snout to the air and closed his eyes. They opened, pools of blood amidst a shaggy coat of snow. He padded off into the woods a few paces then turned to look back at them.

Glenn stared at Jon, mouth agape. “No way you trained him to do that.”

Jon grinned. “Direwolves feel nature as if it is a part of them.”

Jenner’s eyes blazed with the same curiosity he had when Jon had spoken of the Kingslayer. It seemed the doctor had found his question to bring to their next lesson. Jon knew what question he would ask. Thinking of it robbed Jon of his grin.

“Let us dawdle no longer,” he said and followed after Ghost.

Ghost led them through thick brambled bushes, mazes of thin tree trunks and delicate little meadows hidden among the green abyss. As they went further, the forest closed around them. The tree trunks thickened and stood closer. The canopies blocked more and more sunlight until there was nary but a few stubborn rays to light their way. Mossy stones resolved to trip them with each step and twisted roots aided the effort. Silence lingered everywhere. Birds didn’t chirp. Insects didn’t buzz. No Frogs yelped. No underfoot creatures scuttled. Only the boots of their little troupe crunched against sticks and leaves.

It was in the deepest and darkest part of the woods yet, that they came across the stream. A thin, pale line glistened beneath spotted rays of sunlight. So shallow that Jon’s boots seemed to glide atop the surface and so thin that two steps were all it took to cross. Rocks huddled beneath the pale water, slippery but not hazardous if one were to pay them respect. Jenner, the last to cross, slipped on his second step. He stumbled forward and Rick caught his arm, stopping his fall.

Jenner muttered an awkward thanks and hurried away from the stream. They left it behind as they’d left behind everything in the forest. Little more than fleeting memories. Until a splash brought their attention back to it. They raced back to the stream, tripping on the thick underbrush with blades drawn. Ghost raced ahead, fangs bared. But as they erupted from the brush they all froze. Carl was on his rear in the water. A ray of sun gleamed off of the golden star of his hat.

“Carl?” Rick asked, keeping his voice low. “What are you doing here? Does your mother know?”

“Let me come with you.” Carl shot to his feet. His face hardened.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“You know why. I ain’t havin’ this talk again, here of all places. God… one of you’s gonna have to take him back.”

“I ain’t goin’ back! I’ll just sneak off again. I know the way.”

Rick stared at his son in a state between utter bewilderment and a flying rage. But before he could say a word, Carl shouted again.

“She’s my friend! I wanna help her.”

Rick’s face softened. He knelt before his son, in the water and took his hand into his. “I know, son. I ain’t ever gonna tell you you’re wrong to feel that way. But you’ll be better off protectin’ her at her side.”

Carl wrinkled his nose. “Andrea and T-Dog can do that. I’m gonna find the medicine that’ll make her better.”

“Carl…”

“I ain’t a kid anymore. I’m big. I can handle myself. I can kill walkers the same as any of you.”

“No, Carl. You can’t. One day you’ll be able to, if you must. But you ain’t got the skills yet, son.”

“Do to. I’ve killed five so far.” At once, Carl’s eyes widened as he realised his mistake.

Rick’s face darkened with a fierceness to tame a storm. “You what?”

“I-I-I,” Carl’s words tumbled from him. “When I snuck off with Sophia, we figured it out. We’re too small to kill ‘em like you do so we gotta run our shoulder into their chests to make ‘em fall. Then we stab them through the eye.”

Carl mummered a stab. Rick snatched his wrist.

“You listen to me and you listen good,” Rick whispered in a low, deep voice. “You never risk your life for no good reason. Never. This ain’t a game. Killin’ the dead ain’t a sport. It’s life and death. It’s-”

“I know-”

“Don’t you interrupt me.”

“It ain’t a game to me!” Carl’s arms trembled and his nostril flared. “We should be killin’ them! All of them! Every single one we see! They took everything from us!” Carl’s breathing became rapid. “Y-You all act like it ain’t gone! Like we can get it back! We can’t! It’s gone, forever and it’s all their fault!”

The bushes exploded with an eruption of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. A great stag, as tall as Jon and as long as Ghost emerged from the brush with a tall crown of antlers. Everyone froze as it stared at them. Silence lingered. Ghost bared his fangs at the stag. The proud creature stood its ground. It lifted its snout, making its antlers appear larger than life. A gurgling hiss wafted after the stag from the bushes. A walker stumbled from the brush, reaching and clawing at the air for the stag. Its eyes found their group and it changed course for them. Ghost moved right in front of Jon and lowered his head, ready to lunge. The stag lowered its antlers at the walker and scraped the ground. And as all eyes were on it, they weren’t where they ought to be.

“I’ll show you I can do it!” Carl broke free of Rick’s grip and charged at the walker.

“Carl, no!” Rick shouted.

Rick snatched at him. Carl dodged and Rick grabbed air. Carl bolted past the rest of them, weaving through grabbing hands as he drew a knife from his belt. He aimed his shoulder at the walker’s chest and bellowed a boy’s war cry. Thunder cracked. The walker’s stomach exploded. Then Carl’s. The boy gasped, clutched at his ruined belly and fell onto his back. His mouth gaped open and closed as his life blood pooled beneath him amongst the dirt and leaves.

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