#destined to be a knit hate for my father-in-law

[disgruntled-lifeform]

On the left we have yak and on the right baby alpaca and together they become the softest most annoying thing I've ever spun

[knitting-gay-nerd]

I Will Stand in the Dark for You

Turn Week 2021 | Day 2: Favorite Historical Event/Location

The Mutiny of the Pennsylvania Line, starting at about midnight January 1, 1781, Jockey Hollow

The following is a dramatization from the perspective of Temperance Wick, who, according to New Jersey legend, ran into some rebelling Continental soldiers just after midnight during the Mutiny of the Pennsylvania Line, tricked them so that they couldn’t take her horse, and hid him in a bedroom in her house. It is of course not historically accurate, for several reasons that include the presence of my original character Henrietta Wick, the mention of a nonexistent Dr. Kemble, and the fact that Tempe’s midnight ride likely never happened.

This is directly related to my fanfiction, All Done Up in Blue & Gold, although you do not need to have read it to understand this, and it contains the mildest of spoilers, as this will be from Henrietta’s point of view in the story itself.

This is over 3,000 words. Enjoy!

Mother’s labored breathing unnerved me. It was clearly audible even from the doorway, where I stood. Whatever this fever was, it had taken a toll on her. We had gone for the doctor, our brother-in-law William Leddel, when she first fell ill, but he told us that she would eventually recover and simply to take care of her as we normally would. She had become bedridden only days after Father’s funeral.

Her condition was not improving, but remaining stagnant. Father was not yet dead two weeks, and it seemed Mother might follow him into the good Lord’s arms before long.

“Tempe.” Henri’s hand rested, palm up, on Mother’s forehead. She looked at me, concern clear on her face, her brow knit together and fear shining in her widened eyes. My stomach wrenched itself into a knot. “Get Dr. Kemble.”

I straightened bolt upright from my position leaning against the side jamb of the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s burning up, worse than before, and she seems delirious. Get him now. Hurry!”

“Shouldn’t I get William? He’s been looking after her, and he’s our brother in law—“

“Kemble’s closer. Go!”

“Should you be looking after her? The baby—“

“I’m fine, Tempe! Go! Do you want to lose Mother as well?”

“No, of course I don’t!” I snapped back at her, tears pricking at my eyes. I ran, pulling on my outer clothes as quickly as possible, then running along the path through the snow to the barn to saddle Colonel.

I clicked my tongue, leading him out of the stall. “Come on boy. Ready for a nighttime ride?”

He nickered at me, nuzzling my shoulder. “We’re all business tonight, Colonel. You’ll do me proud, I’m sure.”

I kept up a meaningless chatter as I tacked him up, from his bridle to finally tightening his girth. It was a distraction for me as much as for him. Then, I led him out of the barn to mount.

“Allons-y,” I whispered. I knew he couldn’t gallop all the way to the doctor’s house, and it was dangerous to gallop, especially because Colonel was cold and the ground was frozen. However, it was imperative to reach our destination with as much speed as possible, and the doctor would have a fresh horse ready to visit Mother. We proceeded at a walk, until he was warm enough to trot.

Only the Pennsylvania Line was camped on our land this winter, but their New Year’s Eve festivities were loud and raucous as I traveled through the woods. Thankfully, I was not set upon by any drunken soldiers, but I could hear their singing and see their fires from the road. It was late, almost midnight. Mother is dying, I thought. I urged the Colonel into a canter, pushing the limits of safety given the conditions.

A few moments later, I realized that a canter was too leisurely for the gravity of the situation. Mother was dying. If ever there was a time to throw caution to the wind that streaked past me as I rode, it was now. Fuck caution, I thought. Mother would hate that that word even came to my mind. She would call it “unladylike”. Henri and I both had disappointed her in that regard. It can go to hell and reside with Lucifer himself.

I kicked Colonel’s sides, forcing him into a gallop.

The wind whistled in my ears, only the beating of my heart louder than it. My eyes watered from the cold rush of air. Colonel slowed to a canter as we reached town, only a few men in varying degrees of drunkenness milling on the streets.

“Whoa,” I called as we reached the doctor’s house. I swung down from the saddle, tying Colonel to a post. I scratched under his mane, whispering, “You did so good, boy. Thank you.”

I rapped on the door. No one answered. I knocked louder, then yelled, “I need help! Please!”

“Hold your horses, young lassie, I’m coming!” A female voice called out. After a moment and a bit of fiddling with the latch, the doctor’s maid opened the door. “What do you need, Miss?”

“My mother is severely ill. We’re afraid she might be on death’s threshold. Where’s Dr. Kemble?”

“Oh, Miss, he came home not an hour ago, drunk out of his wits. He’s not in any shape to come, and I doubt he’d be of any help.”

I sighed. “Alright. I’ll go the other way and get Dr. Leddel, then.”

“Before you go, what’s wrong with her? I might be able to offer some advice.”

“She’s in a right fever, burning to the touch and seeing things that aren’t there.”

“If you’ve any dogwood or tulip poplar bark, make a tea and get her to drink it, if you can. It will bring her fever down some. She might have to sweat it out.”

“Thank you.”

“Your mother is in my prayers.”

“Keep my sister in them as well. She’s with child, and we’re the only ones left to take care of Mother.”

“I will. God be with you!”

“Thank you.”

I mounted Colonel and urged him into a trot. He was tired, but we still had a distance to travel to reach the house Phebe and Dr. Leddel lived in. It was in the opposite direction of Morristown, on the way to Mendham. Dr. Leddel was my brother-in-law, but Mendham was farther than the doctor’s house in Morristown.

With any hope, however, we would get back home in time and the remedies Kemble’s maid had given me would be unnecessary.

We proceeded through the woods at a trot. An uneasiness came over me as I approached the point where I could hear the soldiers when I was going in the opposite direction. It was much quieter than it had been then, although not enough time had passed for their celebration to die down so completely. Just then, a shot rang out, with shouting following it. Colonel shied. He wasn’t used to gunshots, as he had never been trained to ignore such sounds. Once he recovered, I urged him on into a canter, a bleak attempt to escape whatever was happening in the camp.

I relaxed once I could no longer hear the commotion. We slowed to a trot. Despite my relative calm, Colonel remained alert, his ears pricked in the direction of the woods to our left. Rustling came from that direction, but I ignored it, assuming it was an animal. Even a few minutes later, Colonel was nervous, strange behavior because he was usually a sure horse in the woods.

Colonel’s ears swiveled, facing behind me.

“You! Stop!”

“We’re taking your horse.”

I urged Colonel on faster.

A man called out, “Continental Army. We’re commandeering your horse.”

I stopped. The man who spoke last came up to Colonel’s head and took hold of his bridle. “Get down.”

“What is the meaning of this, gentlemen?”

The brown eyes of the man who held my horse’s bridle met mine, and I was shocked by how young he looked. He was at least five years younger than me, to be certain. His dirty blond hair was in a rough queue, with strands falling out near his face. His face was thin, and he looked hungry. Yet, he had somewhat of a commanding air about him, and the two men who followed him to my side seemed subservient to him. “We’re marching on Congress to get the money we’re owed. Our bounty’s up, and we’re done. We’re barely fed and never paid for three years now.”

“Then you’re not Continental Army and cannot commandeer my horse.”

“That was only to get you to stop. Now, dismount, and we’ll be taking him. Don’t forget, we have muskets.”

“You don’t want Colonel. He’s just been at a hard gallop over to Dr. Kemble’s house. He’s too tired to make it far enough to be worth your while.”

“You think you can trick us with that? He looks fresh to me!” One of the other men said.

“Shut it, Kip, this lady probably knows more about horses than you. Please dismount, ma’am.”

“Alright, sir. Would you please help me down?”

He smiled at me. “Of course.” As he moved his hand from Colonel’s bridle, I felt a pang of regret for what he’d gone through. He was just a boy, and, if he’d been in the army for three years, he had spent most of his teenage years starving in winter camps, fighting in battles, and marching along the road. No one deserves that life, especially not someone so young. What I did not regret, however, was what I was about to do.

I turned Colonel’s head towards home and kicked his sides. Shouting erupted behind me, but we were already at a run, and far ahead of where they could catch up to us on foot.

We kept up the gallop until we reached the house. They wanted Colonel, they wanted to take him and march with him to Congress to demand their pay. No. Colonel was mine, and if they wanted him, they’d have to go through me. I couldn’t get William now, but we had to have some dogwood or tulip poplar bark that could be brewed into a tea. Now, how to hide Colonel…

They recognized me, they must have. I didn’t tell them who I was, but they would follow me home and put two and two together quickly enough. Where could I hide a horse that they wouldn’t find him? The barn would be the natural place to look; I couldn’t put him there. Not only would he be found right away outside, he would have no protection from the weather, should it start to storm. He needed somewhere with a roof, at least, preferably walls…

That’s it. The house.

I led him inside, where his shoes clopped against the wood floor. Henri ran from Mother’s bedroom.

“Temperance Wick! What is that horse doing inside? And where is Dr. Kemble?”

“Dr. Kemble is drunk in his bed at home, and Colonel is inside because the soldiers are rebelling and tried to take him. I can’t very well hide a horse in a barn where they will look first!”

“You will be the death of me! What shall we do about Mother now? We can’t ride out to Phebe’s with the soldiers in mutiny!”

“Dr. Kemble’s maid told me to brew her tea with dogwood or tulip poplar bark. She said it should help with the fever.”

“Of course! That’s what Mother used to do for us. There should be some in the cellar. Daisy!”

Daisy hurried from the kitchen. “Yes, Miss—why is Colonel inside?”

“The soldiers are mutinying, and it’s the only way to keep him from being commandeered,” I answered.

“Yes. Boil some water. We need to make dogwood tea for Mother. It should help her fever. Prepare more wet cloths as well. Tempe, find the dogwood bark in the cellar.”

“What about the soldiers?”

“I’ll take care of them. While Daisy brews the tea, you can keep watch. I’ll load a shotgun and stand guard at the door. Daisy, you can take care of Mother?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Good. Get the field hands first. They can use the other shotguns and stand guard at the north and south. Tempe and I will stay inside and watch from the house. Go.”

Daisy went off to find the few male servants we kept around during the winter to haul wood and perform miscellaneous outdoor tasks. “Tempe, after you get the bark, you can use Father’s pistol. I’ll get it and the shot.”

“All right.” Colonel snorted. “What should we do about him?”

“I don’t know; you’re the one who brought him inside! Find a place for him. You’re right, we can’t keep him in any of the outbuildings, that’s where they’ll look first. I’ll get the bark while you hide him, then I’ll get the shot. Father’s pistol is in his study; get it after you hide Colonel.”

I nodded, and Henri went into the cellar. I took Colonel’s reins and led him through the house, thinking of a good place to put him. Eventually, I led him into a bedroom, pulled the feather mattress off the bed frame, and led him onto it to soften the sounds of his hooves.

“Alright, boy. Stay here.” He nuzzled me and nickered. I scratched underneath his mane. “And try to stay quiet.”

I left him in there, closing the door behind me. This was a most strange night, even among years of strange days and nights. I entered Father’s study, a room that hadn’t changed much since his death.

The books he and Henrietta loved so much sat on the shelves, exactly where they had been before. I too had read some of them, but their reverence far surpassed mine. Though there were not many in retrospect, they were plenty to entertain and teach us.

I walked to the desk, where his pistol lay. I was much faster at loading and a much better shot with the pistol than the shotgun, so it was better for me to wield it and for Henri to have control of the shotgun. I picked it up and returned to the parlor, where Henrietta was commanding our defense, a veritable general, though one pregnant and clad in skirts and petticoats.

At this point, Isaac and Jeremiah, the two men we had sent Daisy for, had been brought to Henri. Daisy herself was presumably brewing the tea for Mother, after which she would tend to her. Henri was giving the men instructions.

“Jeremiah, you go to the north, and Isaac, you go to the south. The men could be here any minute. Do not confront them, but if they attack you, do not hesitate. If one of you hears a gunshot, run to help the other. Tempe, there are three men, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you’ll likely be slightly outnumbered, but we trust you. Go, and may God be with you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you. Good, you’ve got the pistol. Go by the window and watch, and keep a keen ear. It’s dark outside, so we’ll likely hear them before seeing them is feasible.”

“God willing, they won’t come, or if they do, they won’t see Isaac or Jeremiah.”

“They threatened you, a lady, so we can’t expect that they’ll leave them alone.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“That’s all we can be.” She nodded at me, and I left for the back of the house. She took her stance, her shotgun pointed at the door. I stood by a window, my pistol cocked, trying to breathe as quietly as possible and listening intently.

I stood there for what felt like hours. It was surely only a few minutes, but they dragged on as I listened and waited. The candles lighting the hallway flickered as the silence continued.

Henri broke the silence, saying in a low voice that carried through the mostly silent house, “I hear them.”

“Aye,” I responded.

A moment later, their voices were audible on my side of the house.

“Where could she have gone with that horse?”

“Why do we need it? Can’t we just march with everyone else?”

“Shut your gobs, we’ll check the barn and outbuildings and get going. Whoever’s in the house, it’s not worth messing with them, they’re probably armed.”

I waited a moment, then peered out the window, cupping my hands around my face so I could see. The mutineers were walking through the snow towards the barn.

“Henri. Henri, come here.”

“No, we need to maintain our positions.”

“Fine, they’re going to check the barn and other buildings, then leave. I think we’re safe. They said it’s too dangerous to try the house.”

“Alright. We’ll stay here until they’re surely gone.”

Silence fell again. I tried to keep my focus on the task at hand: defending my home from traitors, but my thoughts wandered. I thought about how these men were driven to this point by neglect and hunger. I thought about how my mother was on her deathbed as I stood by the window with my late father’s pistol. I thought about how my sister, pregnant with my brother-in-law’s child, was left responsible for taking care of my ill mother and defending our home, as I, feeling as helpless as I did as a child, tried not to get in her way. I thought about how Father was gone. I thought about how broken I felt inside, and wondered if Henri felt the same. I thought about how and why the thought of being left alone scared me, even though I didn’t want to fall in love or marry anyone. I thought about how desperately I longed to be happy with someone, though not in love with them. I thought about how I didn’t want to be in love, and didn’t know if I could. I thought about how I was expected to marry, expected to have children, expected to be happy with only that. I thought about how little I wanted, and how much I wanted at the same time. I thought about how much I could have, and how little I could have. I thought about how broken and divided I was, and how broken and divided the world was.

“They’re gone.”

I relaxed, not even realizing how tensely I had been holding my breath until I released it. I unloaded the pistol and placed it on a table, next to Henri’s shotgun, and together we hastened to Mother’s bedroom. Daisy stood from the chair beside the bed as we entered.

“She drank the tea, and her skin is cooler to the touch. I’ve been applying cool compresses to her forehead as well. She’s sleeping now.”

Henri placed her hand on Mother’s forehead. “You’re right, of course. Thank you, Daisy. You can tell Isaac and Jeremiah they can come back inside now.”

Daisy curtsied slightly, then hurried off.

I staggered to the chair and collapsed into it. I closed my eyes.

“Tempe, are you alright?”

“Tired.”

“You should go to bed.”

“You’ve been taking care of her all day. You should sleep first.” I opened my eyes, and hers, wide, blue, and sincere met mine.

“Mother’s better. We don’t need to stay up with her anymore.”

Suddenly, tears welled in my eyes, and I started sobbing. “Thank God. Thank God!”

She came around the bed, wrapping me in her embrace. “All is well. All is well. Come, let’s get you to bed.”

Still crying, I muttered, “Thank God we're safe. Thank God Mother is improving. Thank God, thank God, thank God.”

As we walked, she asked me, seemingly as an afterthought, “What did you do with Colonel?”

“He’s in the bedroom James used to have.”

“He’ll be safe there, so we shall leave him until morning. It’s been a long night, for him and us.”

Henri led me to our room, where she helped me undress and get into bed.

As she tucked the covers around me, I whispered to her, “You’ll be a great mother.”

The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was her smiling, and the last thing I felt was her kiss on my forehead. The last thing I heard was her telling me, “Goodnight,” then sighing. A wave of love, for her, for Mother, for Father, for everyone I had ever loved, washed over me, and I fell asleep, surrounded and covered by a feeling of safety and love.

[veliseraptor]

onward and onward, 2.6k, maeglin, follows on this, this, and this (read on ao3), things continue to not get better, cw: self harm, heavy suicidal ideation, it’s not an ‘everybody lives’ au without everything being kinda terrible

They were nearly halfway to the Havens of Sirion before Maeglin realized that there were only three people who knew what he had done.

It struck him sitting alone, sleepless in the dark, and he started up, though the moment after he thought it it seemed obvious. If it were broadly known that he was the traitor who had given up Gondolin’s location, that he was the reason they were now homeless wanderers, that he had betrayed them all because he was weak and a coward-

He doubted that Turgon’s word would be enough to keep him alive.

What explanation had been given for his behavior? The guards that had watched him in the weeks before they left the city - what had they been told? What had been said about his choice to remain behind?

Perhaps it was explained as an act of noble heroism.

That bent him over laughing until he couldn’t breathe and just shook with it, his chest aching.

**

The Havens of Sirion had become a kind of signal fire. A fixed point in time and space that he could orient himself to. At night when he lay awake with thoughts spinning, he contemplated what would happen when he came to it. Idril said I do not want you dead. He and Tuor had not spoken since his first attempt at escape, when the Man had dragged him back. Maeglin was not certain if he was avoiding his uncle or if his uncle was avoiding him.

I do not want you dead. He ought to be pleased with that, perhaps. It seemed the closest he had ever come to his cousin’s favor, even if it was no favor but a desire to see him pay for his crime by living.

Once they reached the Havens of Sirion, he told himself, it would be easy enough to slip away. He spent enough time in solitude that it would take some time to mark his absence. By then he could be well away. Once they reached the Havens of Sirion, the Gondolithrim would have a home, a sanctuary, in place of the one that they had lost. Once they reached the Havens of Sirion–

He would have done - not enough, never enough, but there would be no more. He was already emptied out. All that he needed was to reach that signal fire, and then he could turn and fade back into the dark.

“It will be you and I,” he said to Anguirel. “Perhaps we will ride north, like my mother’s father, and see how far we get.”

“Who are you speaking with?”

Maeglin fell perfectly still, one of his hands curling into a fist, eyes closing. “Where is your mother,” he said, in lieu of answering. “Or your father, for that matter.”

“Over there,” Eärendil said, and it must have been accompanied by some sort of gesture, but Maeglin did not turn to look at him. “There’s no one else here.”

“No,” Maeglin said. “There is not.” He had never had much of an instinct for children, and still less with this one, and still less now. He had been symbolic of a hated bond, but if that was gone now he was just another member of a family that he did not feel he could claim.

“So who were you speaking with?”

“No one,” Maeglin said, after a few moments of silence. “Myself.”

“Was it no one or yourself?” Maeglin opened his eyes, frowning, and found Eärendil’s grey eyes clear and altogether too innocent. Of course he would be clever, like his mother. Who had apparently had a streak of mischief in her youth, though Maeglin had seen it little.

That line of thought gave him a pang, and so he held it close with the other knives that pierced his heart.

“Are you here for some reason, or simply because your parents are busy,” Maeglin said. Eärendil’s face fell a little. You should be kinder, chided a quiet voice, but it was quiet, and he had no more kindness in him anyway. If he ever had.

“I’m here because I wanted to see you,” he said, apparently determined not to be put off.

“Is that so,” Maeglin said blandly. Eärendil frowned at him.

“Naneth says that you are-” he seemed to be trying to recall exact words. Or perhaps trying to think of more diplomatic phrasing. “‘Troubled,’” he said, finally. Maeglin gritted his teeth and let out a short laugh.

“I suppose that is one way of putting it.” Eärendil’s brows knitted together, and Maeglin shook his head. “I am not good company for you, boy. Go on and find your grandfather.”

He didn’t move to leave. “Why?” he asked. “Why aren’t you good company?”

The strangest blend of rage and despair and exhaustion rolled over Maeglin like a wave, and he lowered his head into his hands, suddenly unable to bear his own weight. “Because I have done terrible things,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother knows,” Maeglin said. “Ask her.” There was a hard edge in his voice, like bitter iron. He forced his hands down from his face and gave Eärendil a cold stare. “You are younger than I was when I watched your grandfather execute my father. But you are old enough to know some truths.”

Eärendil’s blue eyes were wide, and Maeglin wished he hadn’t spoken. “Your father was...”

Do not speak to me of my father. “Go,” he said. “As I said. I am no fit company.” He stood and walked as swiftly as he could away, not knowing where he was going, only knowing that he needed to move and needed to be out from under this child’s eyes.

He wondered what Idril would tell him.

**

When he dreamed, his dreams were all of darkness and cold fire, and the fear that ripped the soul to shreds. His mother had been there, in the dungeons of Angband. Even now, Maeglin wasn’t certain if he had dreamed her or if she had been some phantom of Morgoth’s making.

There, she had been kind. Now, she cradled his face in her hands and said you deserve this.

Waking, he rose and walked out into the night, looking up at Varda’s stars, the cold in his bones. After a long time of simply standing still he took a deep breath and turned back, fetching Anguirel before heading for the edge of the camp. It was not too hard to slip past the posted guards - they were watching for intruders coming in, not going out. There was no cover, not here, but the night sheltered him.

Raised in darkness, fallen back into it. Child of twilight, Aredhel had named him, in defiance of Eol, in the tongue of her youth.

Maeglin walked with no real destination or intention, the sword heavy at his side. He looked north, toward where Gondolin had lain. There was a soft wind that brushed against his face like a caress, and he realized slowly that he was weeping, without sound.

If there had been someone to beg, he might have begged: have mercy. Instead he drew Anguirel and wrapped his hand around the blade. It did not seem to hurt as much as it should.

He returned as quietly as he had gone and bandaged the wounds. How long, he wondered. How long.

**

The High King summoned him.

That was how it was put: the High King summons you. Maeglin picked at the words, trying to decide what they meant. Interpretation, or exact words? Was it that Turgon believed Maeglin would not obey, otherwise, or because he sought to distance himself, speaking not as family but as the voice of ultimate authority?

Regardless, he went. Of course. He didn’t know what to expect; they’d scarcely spoken three words to each other since Maeglin’s confession of what he had done. That this silence was ending now…

A slight unease curled through Maeglin’s body before he quashed it. What did it matter? The worst Turgon could do was order his execution, and that did not truly fall under the category of worst.

“You wished to see me,” Maeglin said. Turgon stood with his back turned, and they were alone - no attendants, no Idril, no Tuor. Just the two of them.

“Yes,” Turgon said. It sounded as though it took great effort. “I did.”

“May I ask what it is regarding?”

“We have spoken little of late.”

“We have,” Maeglin said slowly. “I guessed you were busy.”

“I have been. But I have not meant-” He broke off. Maeglin thought it was probably because he did not wish to lie. “Idril brought it to my attention that you have been - isolated.”

“Of my choice, High King,” Maeglin said, and thought he caught a faint twitch of Turgon’s shoulder, but little more. He still had not turned.

“Of your choice,” Turgon echoed, and Maeglin could not read what was in his voice. He turned, at last, and his face was no easier to read but that he seemed weary. “Since your mother’s passing,” he said, “I thought of you as a son.”

A part of Maeglin thought did you, truly, or did you want to think of me as such while resenting me in your heart as the get of your sister’s murderer. The other part of him only flinched at the past tense, and wanted to ask and what do you think of me now? “You gave me great honors,” he said instead.

“I have tried to think how I did not see it,” he said, voice quieter. “How I failed to notice that something was wrong.”

I was a skilled performer, Maeglin thought, and, because you saw what you wanted to see.

“I think I did not want to,” Turgon said. “Because if I acknowledged the possibility that you might not have escaped capture as you claimed, then...the law would require that I put you to death as a potential spy.”

A laugh bubbled up in Maeglin’s throat and he forced it down, holding his silence.

“If I had,” Turgon said, still quieter, “without your warning...it seems likely we would not be alive now.”

Maeglin blinked, swayed back. “You were in danger at all only because of my treachery.”

“That is the irony, isn’t it?” Turgon huffed, a sound that was not quite a laugh. “Were it not for you, the city would not have fallen. Were it not for you, its people would not have survived - or at least, far fewer would have.” He shook his head, his grey eyes moving from Maeglin’s face. “Only I wonder if Ondolindë was Doomed from the moment of its founding, as all our works are.” The melancholy was heavy in his voice, and Maeglin did not know what to say. What he should say.

“My lord,” he said, halting, “is there aught you wish of me?”

“No,” Turgon said, after a long and strangling silence. “Nothing.”

He did not realize until those words were spoken that he had hoped for something. That he had wanted Turgon to want something, even if it was to send him away, even if it was a sentence of death, even…

He bowed, and turned to leave, relieved only that it did not seem Idril had mentioned her other concerns regarding his intentions. And at the same time-

At the same time, he was reminded of how it had been in the years after his return from Morgoth’s embrace. The dread of discovery, and at the same time the yearning for someone to see, to realize, to understand. To look at him and say Maeglin, what ails you?

He quashed the desire.

“Hold,” Turgon said suddenly, and Maeglin stopped, glancing back. He gestured. “What happened to your hand?”

“An accident,” Maeglin said after a moment. “I was careless.”

Turgon scanned Maeglin’s face, eyebrows furrowed, and finally nodded. Maeglin bowed again, and this time departed without interruption.

**

The wind was beginning to carry an unfamiliar scent - Maeglin did not know it, but he guessed that it was the sea. It was faint yet, but it portended an end to their journey. He closed his eyes and imagined it, or tried, but he had no idea what it would look like. Vast, he knew. And invisible, on the other side, Valinor. A place as distant as Varda’s stars, and as unreachable.

He opened his eyes, hearing someone approach, but did not turn.

“Maeglin,” said Idril’s husband.

“Yes,” he said.

“May we speak?”

“We are now, are we not?” He flexed his bandaged hand. The cuts underneath were mostly healed now, but he had left them wrapped. There was a long quiet, and at last he turned with a sigh to meet Tuor’s clear, bright eyes, his direct gaze.

“It has been more than a week,” he said. It took Maeglin a moment to parse the statement, and then he remembered.

“It has,” he agreed.

“You have not left,” Tuor went on. “Does this mean you have reconsidered?” Maeglin tried to read what was in his voice, but could not find anything to read: no hope, no caution, no disappointment. He wavered between honesty and falsehood, but of all those he knew here this Edain was easiest to speak truth to.

“No.”

“No,” Tuor echoed, and Maeglin thought he could hear it there: the faintest traces of disapproval. He let out a faint laugh.

“No,” he said. “I have not reconsidered.”

Tuor frowned at him. “What amuses you?”

He didn’t know how to explain. “Nothing. Do you ask because you intend to try to dissuade me? Because you, as Idril, believe I deserve this condemnation? You said you would not.”

That steady regard did not change. “It isn’t meant as a condemnation,” he said. Maeglin stared at him.

“That is not what you said before,” he said. “It is too easy. Those were your words.” Tuor said nothing, and Maeglin looked away from him, breaking his gaze. “I will follow until the Mouths of Sirion,” he said. “I will remain until you reach your new home. But no further.”

There was frustration, Maeglin thought, in that furrowed brow.

“I am not yours,” he said, with some desperation. “Nor hers. If some scrap of me remains still my own - allow me some choice.”

Tuor exhaled slowly. “I said I would not stop you.”

“And your wife?” Maeglin asked. “Will she?”

“I do not have command over her.”

No. Of course not. And Idril’s will was insurmountable. But he did not need to overcome her will; only her watch, and that he thought he could do.

A peculiar relief swept through him.

“I have never wanted to be your enemy,” Tuor said into the silence between them.

“I didn’t believe you did,” Maeglin said. “Only I wanted to be yours.” He sketched a slight bow and moved to go past him, but Tuor caught his arm.

“I will not stop you,” he said, “but I will say that I don’t think you should go immediately. Give it another week after our arrival while things settle.”

For some unknown reason, he was almost tempted to agree. Perhaps because he was being asked to stay, and some foolish part of him yearned for that ersatz welcome as much as he always had. The desire to belong, the desire to be wanted.

He detached himself, though gently. “No,” he said. “I have waited long enough.”

**

“How long?” Maeglin asked aloud, and a soft voice whispered back to him, soon.

[dragonpressgraphics]

3 Tag Games

Tagged by @pod7et

1: Are you named after someone?  was. I fixed that 11 1/2 years ago.

2: When was the last time you cried? Uh, not caused by a fic? Not sure. But I was very close this saturday

3: Do you like your handwriting? Nope. And I know that seems weird, that as an artist I have horrible handwriting, but i do. I apparantly just have no patience to wait - my art thumbnails also look very awful. the difference is, the first time i'm trying to get the idea down fast before my brain moves on or forgets. the second time is to make it nice. I never get around to writing it a second time unless its typed up.

4: What is your favorite lunch meat? in general: Roast Beef. specifically - the Buttercup Dairy Store Cajun Roast Beef. A small mom and pop owned store back home where i had my first job.

5: Do you have kids? yes. one.

6: If you were another person, would you be friends with you? i don't see why not?

7: Do you use sarcasm? everyone around me does so if i do, it doesn't get noticed as sarcasm. i have it, i try to, but my levels of sarcasm just doesn't compare

8: Do you still have your tonsils? Yes

9: Would you bungee jump? *SHUDDERING* Why would you ask me that? WHY?

10: What is your favorite kind of cereal? I don't eat cereal anymore

11: Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? I used to, but i have a pair of shoes now that i can get on and off without having to, so i don't bother anymore

12: Do you think you’re a strong person? No

13: What is your favorite ice cream? Vanilla bean - Breyers or Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby

14: What is the first thing you notice about people? Uh...colors, I think. They'll draw your eye in and then you start noticing everything else.

15: What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? MY HEIGHT (I'm so short and its not fair - my dad was a whole foot taller than me. so's his brother. and his oldest sister is almost a foot taller than me as well

16: What color pants and shoes are you wearing now? blue striped pj’s

17: What are you listening to right now? Everyone's sleeping and i was too lazy to find my headphones, so all i'm listening to is my fingers typing and the humming refridgerator (i apparantly can't spell that.)

18: If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Well, that depends. Am I picking it? Or does each color have some deep meaning that would be applied to me? Becuase if it's the first, the color would be blue. if its' the second, you'll have to give me the chart...

19: Favorite smell? BACON

20: Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? my mum-in-law (and yes, i call her mum. and no, i'm not from England. so there.)

21: Favorite sport to watch? Yuri on Ice. that totally counts, right?

22: Hair color? plain old brown with silver creeping in. sometimes i dye it to bring out the red highlights that hide inside. usually that means i've just turned my whole head red. :P

23: Eye color? Brown

24: Do you wear contacts? I can't wear them anymore. they hurt my eyes.

25: Favorite food to eat? Bacon. what, i can use the same answer twice! okay fine - how about something i can't get anymore because i don't know how my father cooked it?

26: Scary movies or comedy? Comedy! I'll even watch scary stuff sometimes if it has enough comedy

27: Last movie you watched? You know what? NO. I ain't telling cause i really regret watching it. WHILE i was watching it, but i was too lazy to find something else.

28: What color of shirt are you wearing? my bright orange pj's

29: Summer or winter? Autumn!!!

30: Hugs or kisses? Hugs

31: What book are you currently reading? Does fanfic count? if not, I technically have several books i'm in the middle of right now - i think i started them 2 years ago. before i realized i could read fanfic on my nook.

32: Who do you miss right now? dad

33: What is on your mouse pad? N/A (laptop has the touchpad, and even when it doesn’t, i use a trackball. no mouse necessary - but we did have one a friend stole from our college computer lab that my hubby used for like, forever.

34: What is the last TV program you watched? um.....oh! the Red Green Show

35: What is the best sound? music. or laughing.

36: Rolling Stones or The Beatles? not sure

37: What is the furthest you have ever traveled? NH to California

38: Do you have a special talent? i like to think so

39: Where were you born? Deleware

******************************

Alright, I was tagged by @dmsilvisart to answer 8 questions and tag 9 people who I would like to get to know better. Here we go:

1. Relationship Status: Married 11 1/2 years, known each other for 22

2. Favorite Color: Blue!!!!!!

3. Pets: None. Everyone in my house but me is allergic

4. Last Song I Listened To: That was hours ago! you expect me to remember? :( Right now i have the Yuri on Ice open theme song stuck in my head. Which makes me mad because i tried to buy it on Amazon and the only copies i could find were NOT the version in the open (different singer) or only 30 seconds long (when the open is around a minute and a half)

5. Favorite TV Shows: Supernatural, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Sherlock, Yuri on Ice, M*A*S*H (no one said it still had to be on the air...or in its original run...or...any kind of...qualifier), Stargate, Eureka, slayers, Furuba and probably so much more if i had any brain left for thinking

6. First Fandom: Star Trek

7. Hobbies: Reading, writing, arting (though i want that to be more than a hobby), Games (puzzles, board, card and video - everything really), knitting, scrapbooking

8. Books I’m Currently Reading: Several. from like, 2 years ago, before the whole nook thing. BUT! I am holding @unforth-ninawaters "Glimmer of Hope" hostage until i get more of my work done and i'm sooooo antsing to read it right now!

************************ Alphabet Game

Tagged by @tenoko1

a - age: 39.9

b - biggest fear: Being in open water or being lost, or being alone

c - current time: 3:05am

d - drink you last had: tea

e - every day starts with: my daughter waking me up for a hug before she leaves for school. then i attempt to fall back asleep until i get a nerf shot at my ass (by my husband) as a pretend alarm clock

f - favorite song: Dust in the Wind (but really, so SO many good ones to choose from! how do you choose?)

g - ghosts, are they real: can't decide

h - hometown: where i live now? where i was born? Where i grew up? I never know which version of the question i'm being asked...

i - in love with: not sure what to put here

j - jealous of: anyone whose life is more together than mine i guess. Or people who waste their opportunities

k - killed someone: um, no

l - last time you cried: This saturday I came really close. I had to go hide.

m - middle name: Is my maiden name - i was rather partial to it and since i was moving my old middle name to the first position i said, sure, why not. Let's just lop off that first name and move everything over one to make room for that new last name. wasn't like i was using that old first name anyway.

n - number of siblings: 1.5 (aka, a full sister and a half brother. whom i havent seen since he was 5 except for one time, by accident, at a con. Where he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with our family.

o - one wish: To be able to support myself on my artistic ability

p - person you last called/texted: do the website IMs count? cause that would be either jhoomwrites or mittensmorgul

q - questions you’re always asked: did you draw this?

r - reasons to smile: my kid, music, my art, comments on my fics

s - song last sang: aaaaaah....All of me? i...think? I was singing along

t - which time? Because according to my fitbit, i was awake 17 times last night

u - underwear color: the hated pink color

v - vacation destination: so. many. places! japan, ireland, greece, a supernatural convention for the ENTIRE weekend

w - worst habit(s): Tumblr, procrastination - oh wait, same thing

x - x-rays you’ve had: i've had a variety of things like that - xrays, mri's, catscans...hip, sinus, teeth, baby, gallstones, foot, etc

y - your favorite food: For the third time, BACON!

z - zodiac Sign: Aries

Not tagging anyone - if you wanna do it, go ahead :D