#hand embroidered cushion covers

[mirooh4u]

Elevate Your Home Decor with Stylish Sofa Cushions: A Comprehensive Guide

Are you looking to revamp your living space without breaking the bank? One simple yet effective way to enhance the aesthetic appeal of your sofa is by investing in the right cushions. In this blog post, we’ll explore the world of sofa cushions, cushion covers, and everything in between. Get ready to discover the perfect accents to elevate your home decor!

1. Sofa Cushions: The Ultimate Style Upgrade

Sofa cushions are more than just accessories; they are an essential part of your living room decor. Explore various sizes, shapes, and materials to find the perfect match for your sofa. Whether you prefer big and cozy or small and decorative, there’s a cushion out there for everyone.

2. Cushion Covers: A Splash of Elegance

Give your sofa cushions a makeover with stylish cushion covers. From classic designs to contemporary patterns, the options are endless. Dive into the world of cushion cover design, and discover how a simple change can transform the entire look of your living space.

3. Outdoor Sofa Cushions: Embrace Comfort in Every Setting

Take your comfort outdoors with specially designed outdoor sofa cushions. Learn about the materials that withstand the elements and still provide the plush comfort you desire. Create a cozy and inviting outdoor seating area with the right cushions for your patio furniture.

4. Embroidered Cushion Covers: Artistry in Every Stitch

Explore the exquisite world of embroidered cushion covers. From hand-embroidered to Kashmiri designs, these cushions add a touch of artistry to your sofa. Discover the craftsmanship behind each piece and how it can enhance the overall ambiance of your living room.

5. Cushion Decor: Unleash Your Creativity

Cushions are not just for comfort; they’re an opportunity to showcase your personality and creativity. Learn how to mix and match different cushion styles, sizes, and colors to create a cohesive and visually appealing decor. Express yourself through your cushion choices!

6. Shop Sofa Cushions Online at MiRooh — Best Price Guaranteed

Ready to transform your sofa into a stylish haven? Look no further than MiRooh for a curated selection of sofa cushions, cushion covers, and more. Shop conveniently online and enjoy the best prices on a variety of options. Take the first step towards a cozy and chic living space — Shop Sofa Cushions Online At MiRooh At The Best Price.

7. Luxury Cushion Covers: Indulge in Opulence

Upgrade your sofa with a touch of luxury. Explore fancy cushion covers and pillow designs that exude opulence. Learn how these statement pieces can elevate your home decor, adding a sense of grandeur to your living room.

8. Sofa Cushion Slipcovers: Practical and Stylish

Discover the convenience of sofa cushion slipcovers. Not only do they protect your cushions from wear and tear, but they also offer an easy way to change up your decor. Find out how slipcovers can be both practical and stylish additions to your sofa ensemble.

9. Conclusion: Redefine Comfort and Style

Sofa cushions are more than just accessories; they are a reflection of your style and personality. With the right cushions and covers, you can transform your living space into a cozy and stylish retreat. Start your journey towards a more comfortable and aesthetically pleasing home — Shop Sofa Cushions Online At MiRooh At The Best Price today!

Enhance your home decor with the perfect cushions — because comfort should never compromise style!

[ravi666452]

Bedroom Looks Different When You Try Hand Embroidered Cushion Covers. Now it is Your Time. Buy Our Affordable Embroidered Cushion Covers Online from Bayaroost.

[pinkpampas]

Best Hand Embroidered Jungle Cushion Lining

Pink Pampas have collection of squared hand embroidered cushion’ lining one side decorated with tropical animals and nature, from an ideal jungle. Checkout collection today!

[handposh]

This cushion cover is a stunning piece of hand embroidery that showcases the skill and creativity of the artisan. The cover is made of a soft and smooth velvet material that is brown in color. Read more....A luxurious brown pillow with stunning gold and white. – Zari Fly

[sakshikaribykriti]

Our hand-Embroidered Cushion Covers from Kutch are a beautiful and unique addition to any home decor collection. They are crafted with care and attention to detail, and each one tells its own unique story. Bring a touch of tradition and culture to your home with these stunning cushion covers.

[sailorholly]

Strictly Business Pt 4

Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking his out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Use of a vibrator.

W/C: 1.2K

Strictly Business Masterlist

The next morning, Spencer came to your room. He wanted to make sure you would be able to ride together to the police station. He really was trying to make up for his behavior.

After three more days, the team finally closed the case. You couldn’t wait to be back home. Hotch had given everyone two days off. You planned to sleep for most of the first one. Those plans were scrapped when Spencer called, excitedly asking if he could come over.

When he arrived fifteen minutes later, he brought lunch and a black shopping bag. You ate the pizza together, watching an old Disney movie. Your curiosity finally got the better of you, so you asked what was in the bag.

He smiles, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “I was going for a walk this morning when I saw this shop. I got some stuff for you, but we don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.” His words run together. He’s speaking so fast it takes you a few seconds to understand what he said. You reach for the bag. “I’m sure I will love whatever it is.”

He hands it to you, eagerly waiting for you to see what’s inside. The first item you pull out is a lingerie set. It’s a lilac bustier with mesh cups, small flowers embroidered on the top with matching panties.

You hold it up to admire it. “You want me to wear this for you?” You ask rubbing the silky fabric between your fingers. He swallows, scrunching up his nose in that adorable way you love. “I saw it in the window when I walked by. I made it all the way home before I had to go back for it. I kept imagining you wearing it. But if you don’t like it..”

“It’s perfect! I love it! I can’t wait to try it on for you.” He visibly relaxes now that he knows you approve. “There’s one more gift in there.” He tells you pointing one long, slender finger toward the bag on your lap. You pick it up, reaching in to grab the last item.

You pull out a small, sleek box. You lift the tape on the side, carefully sliding out the contents inside. Your mouth opens in surprise when a blue, mini wand comes out of the box. “You got me a vibrator?” You ask, shocked that he would purchase it. “Do you want me to use this while you watch?” You raise your eyebrows as he fidgets with his hands.

“Actually,” he clears his throat when his voice raises a few octaves. “I was hoping I could use it on you.” You’re not sure you want the old Spencer back. The one that you don’t know what he sounds like when he comes down your throat. The one who who ate you like a starving man. This Spencer is dangerously sexy. You don’t know how you could ever go back.

Once you both ate and the movie was over, Spencer moved closer to you on the sofa. It wasn’t long before his lips descended on yours. His hands slid under your baggy t-shirt, cupping your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging gently. You lay against the cushions. Spencer climbs on top of you. You giggle when he sticks his head under the hem of your shirt.

He disappears under the large fabric. You feel his wet tongue slide up your stomach. His hot breath on your chest makes you squirm. His lips close around a pebbled nipple. Your hands cling to his head completely covered by your shirt.

He chuckles, his laughter vibrating against you. You moan wantonly. He kisses his way back down, large hands rest on the sides of your panties. He slides them down your legs, placing them on your coffee table. He reaches into the floor, picking up the vibrator.

Spencer presses the middle button and it comes alive with a low hum. Your eyes land on the wand, it looks even smaller in Spencer’s giant hands. The way his fingers wrap around it makes you imagine how it would feel to have those long digits curled inside you.

You weren’t ashamed to admit, you’d thought about it more than once, while watching him read. One slender finger sliding down each page as he absorbed the information. You would never understand how such a mundane task could make you clench around nothing, while at work no less.

He presses the head of the wand to your clit. It’s on the lowest setting. It feels nice, but it’s not enough to get you there. You rest a hand on the back of Spencer’s neck, twisting a curl between your fingers. He locks eyes with you. “More. I need more.”

He pushes the top button twice. You twitch underneath him, moaning his name. “Does that feel good, baby?” he asks. His dark eyes shining with lust as he looks down at you. “It’s so AHH!” You cry out, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He removes the vibe from you. You whine at the loss of contact. He spreads your legs wider, looking at your exposed center. Spencer swipes his finger down your seam collecting some of the slick gathered there. He pops his finger between his lips, sucking your arousal off it.

“Sorry, I just needed a little taste.” He states matter of factly. Before you can reply he turns the vibe up two more notches to it’s highest setting. He glides it through your folds, up to your clit. The little machine pulses against you.

You clutch at Spencer like you’re drowning and he’s your salvation. The vibrations roll over you in waves causing you to squirm. He places his free hand on your hip, holding you still. He moves the wand over just a tiny bit. The new position makes all the difference. “Spencer!” You cry out. “That’s it, come for me.” He encourages you, as if you have a choice in the matter.

You come apart underneath him. He lets you ride it out, keeping the wand pressed to you. When you’re finished, he goes to the bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to clean you up. His lips caress yours for just a moment before he pulls away. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I love watching you come.” He confesses. He sits down beside you and you lay your head in his lap.

“Do you think it will be like that with Chloe?” You hate that he brings her up. It’s like he dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. Way to ruin the mood, Spence. “Umm, I’m sure it will be.” You put on your biggest, fakest smile.

“I talked to her this morning.” “Oh?” You ask, even though you could care less. “We picked a day for our first date. It’s in three weeks, if we aren’t out of town for a case. I guess that’s when we will end this.”

You know that this is all for his benefit. That it’s practice. No strings, no emotions. You’re just helping your friend. So why do you feel so bitter and jealous?

Both of your phones receive a notification. The same text from Penelope lit up on both screens: Avengers Assemble. He groans before standing up, complaining that he has to go to his apartment before he goes into work. But you’ve never been so relieved to get called in on your day off.

Part Five

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[theladywholivesonthemoon]

New follower, but I love your writing so far! I’m not sure if you take a request but would you consider writing something short about drawing astarion or giving him a painting of himself please?

WHAT DO YOU SEE

pairing: astarion × fem!reader

warning: none, just fluff!

a/n: my first ask! thank you, I hope this does your vision justice!

The crackling of the fire burning and nature itself is all Astarion could hear. He stared at the mirror in hand, but as usual nothing is shown. He twisted the mirror, turning his face from side to side, grunting at the nothing that is shown, until she walked behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly as to not alarm him. He turned to her, a scowl glaring on his face in his surprise.

"Hello, my love. What is it?". Astarion tried to smile, that grin he used when he wished to hide something from her, usually a fear of his. But it never worked, not on her.

"I should be asking you that". She caressed his cheek, him nuzzling into her palm. "Is it because of the mirror?"

"Well, yes" He said, his voice small and faint. "I... I wonder what this face looks like, sometimes. It is petty vanity, but still. I have never seen this face, after I was turned, I can't even remember the color of my eyes. I want to know what people see- what you see, when you look at this face". Astarion takes her hand, bringing them closer together, his eyes never leaving hers. Wonder swam around in his red eyes as his gaze locked on hers, curiosity and fear of rejection brim on his look until she spoke once more.

"I see you. A piercing gaze that strikes anyone that it touches. Your curls that swirl around when wind brushes against them. The laugh lines across you face that make your smile shine brighter than any star. Astarion, you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I have lived a long time". She placed a hand against his chest, rubbing softly as he almost purrs at the action.

"Well, my love. I'm glad you like me, but truly, who wouldn't fall for this charming visage?" He said and they both giggled, covering their mouths as to not wake the others at camp. The conversation seemed to have been put to an end as the vampire took her hand as he lead them to their shared tent, but she tugged against his hand, her lips curling into a welcoming smile. She pulled away, leaving a confused Astarion to sit in one of the fluffy cushion placed beside his tent as she pattered to her bag, taking out a notebook overflowing with cutouts and notes scribbled onto misplaced papers. She walked towards him, sitting beside him in one of the cushions. Astarion stared in confusion as she summoned a brush and opened the notebook in an empty page and started tugging the brush up and down the paper as he watched.

"My love, I had no idea of your talent to the arts. May I ask, what is it that you draw so fiercely?" Astarion gazed as her brush passed through the ink on the carefully opened jug beside her bag and back again toward the page.

Slowly but surely the image of a man starts to form, pointy elven ears and all. A dashing fellow, complete with a well embroidered cravat, jewels strung like necklaces draped over his shoulders and to complete the look a big smile on his face seemingly brightening up the entire page. Soft hair curls around the elf's ears, perfectly arranged on top of his head, smile lines framing his sweet smile, soft dots pitter around the face. The woman keeps swirling her bush without so much as a response to Astarion, making the vampire even more confused until she smiles softly at the picture on the page and puts the bush down. She wordlessly hands over the notebook to Astarion who stills gazes at it confused.

"Oh, this one is quite a handsome fella isn't he? Ha ha". The vampires laughs nervously, but as the silence it seems to finally click in his mind who this is. "Is this-". His hold on the notebook turns shaky as the woman nods, slowly moving one hand to his to steady his slight shaking.

"This is who I see when I look at you. A man, one who has been hurt many times, but still finds hope within himself, so much life. I see you in your love for embroidery, turning that old cravat we found while looting that castle into a piece of art. I also see you in the patches in my clothes, which I didn't even ask for, but you stitched them anyway. I see your beautiful smile which turns any dark night into a bright sunny day while you focus so hard when enjoying a book, I love it so much when I see that smile directed at me. I see the lines on your face, telling so much history while you stand right here in front of me- living. As much as an undead can live, though". Her laugh turned into a snort, her hand moving to cover her mouth. Astarion laughed with her, wiping stray tears that escape through the side of his eyes. “Astarion, you are so beautiful, I can’t even express them in words. Beautiful inside and out, my dashing vampire”.

"I am quite wonderful, aren't I?". Once again they laugh together as he tugged her into his lap, hugging each other tightly while enjoying the fire sizzling in the middle of camp, welcoming them both into a night full of stars.

"Oh love look! A shooting star! Make a wish". She pointed her arm toward the rapidly passing star and Astarion hummed in thought, encasing his hand on hers, bringing them closer to his body.

"I doubt anything I'd wish could beat this". He smiled, his eyes downcast as they gazed at her lovingly. With relaxed shoulders and feeling a calm he hadn't felt in oh so long, he pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a slow, languid kiss. They kiss softly, not in a rush, as the silence of the camp welcomed them both, leaving their love undisturbed, until the sun shines in the sky again and their travel to Baldur's Gate continues.

[chiefdirector]

Risking | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve

One Year Ago.

March 16th. 

Despite every fibre of her being screaming for her to run in the other direction, (Y/N) kept her pace steady as she approached Lamberts Coffee Shop. The place had been in operation for as long as she could remember, the owner, Reggie Lambert, was (Y/N)’s landlord at one point in time. She had always come here on weekends when the old man had been working behind the counter. If he still did, she would not have come. He was another life that she could not risk.

Pulling her hood over her head, she entered the cafe and placed an order for a plain black coffee. She would normally go for some complex, overly sugary coffee but talking was the last thing she wanted to do so the bitter taste would have to do. It came in a flimsy paper cup, resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust, (Y/N) made her way to the back of the cafe and sat down in the furthest corner. 

This spot, unlike the rest of the store, did not attract many customers to sit. The lack of windows causes the area to seem unwelcoming and somewhat neglected. All of the sofas and the comfier chair were in the main section of the cafe, near the counter. If it were a normal day, she would have sat on the green sofa she had once owned. It got donated to Reggie when she moved in with Tim. 

The sofa was old and worn down in all the best ways. The cushions seemed to consume anyone who sat on it. The tops of the cushions had lost some colour over the years and the cotton blend covers had gotten softer with use. Blankets were strewn over the back and there were some decorative pillows stacked up one one side. 

Her favourite part was the small embroidery over top of the frontmost left foot. She had embroidered her and Tim’s initials into it just before she gave it away. The sofa had been her first purchase when she had started as a rookie Even though she had gotten it second hand herself, it had become one of her most valuable possessions. It hurt to give it away, even though she knew that she would be back in the cafe. It was like she was giving up a part of her life.

(Y/N) chuckled at the thought. Of course she thought it was one of the most tragic things, if only she could see herself now. Sitting in a cafe on the off chance she may see Tim again. 

He didn’t know she was here, so he had no reason to come. They had always come together, the only time they had come alone was the day they had met. Reggie had mixed up their orders (he claimed it was accidentally but (Y/N) knew that he had been trying to get her to get back on the dating scene for a while). They sat down together and chatted. Tim left with her number. It was March 16th.

And they have spent every March 16th there since. Until now.

(Y/N) winced at the strong bitter taste of her coffee, slightly regretting not taking the extra seconds to get cream.  She placed the cup back down on the table, she could bear the taste while she waited. It only took another couple of minutes, before the bell on top of the door chimed again. (Y/N) looked up at the noise and then back down at the sight of an elderly couple walking in. 

It passed this way for a few hours. She would look up when the door chimed, only to look away when another stranger entered. She would take a sip of her now cold coffee and wait for another chime. By the time the clock read 4:30, she had been drinking for an empty cup for at least an hour.

Resigned to the fact that she would not see Tim today, (Y/N) binned her cup and moved in a hurry, cursing herself that she had thought that he would be there. Why would he have, he had no reason to go anymore. She was no longer in his life, she was no longer an anniversary worth remembering.

Adjusting her hood and keeping her head down, she opened the door to exit but waited for a man to enter. Swiftly, she left the premises, barely registering the all too familiar voice thanking her.

(Y/N) left the city after that. She knew the risk she had taken by coming here today, a part of her was thankful that she hadn’t seen Tim today because her selfishness hadn’t cost him anything. It took a few hours to arrive back at the dingy motel she had taken as residence.

The door was open when she arrived.

She had always gone out of her way to ensure that her accommodation was thoroughly locked and secure. There was no way that she had left it like that, it wasn’t in her nature. Nothing Has changed inside, her spare firearm was still tucked away in the bathroom cabinet, and her phone she used to call Williamson was still under the bed-side table. None of her clothes had moved from where she had strewn them across the floor. 

The only difference was a polaroid on the bed.

The image was slightly blurry but it was clear what was being shown. Reggie slumped forward in a chair he was tied to. He was badly bruised, sporting a broken nose and a blackened eye. His lip was swollen up and cut from where had bitten down in pain. Blood was streaming from a wound on his head and from a single bullet wound in his chest.

As she examined the image even more, it became clear why such an atrocity had happened. At the bottom of the photograph in the white frame were two simple words.

Strike Two.

Silent, she picked up the photograph and moved to open the bedside drawer. Gently, she placed it down into the drawer on top of an nearly identical picture of her brother that read Strike One.

She knew what this meant. She had been sloppy. And she would pay the price. As she closed the door, she swore that she would not let her emotions allow her to make a decision that ended up taking a life of someone she loved.

Part Twelve | Part Fourteen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh  @kmc1989  @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e

Tags are open :)

[ravi666452]

Try Now The Best Hand Embroidered Cushion Covers Online - Bayaroost

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[dd122004dd]

Hiii!!! How are you?

I'm really sorry to bother you, I hope you're fine, I really don't know if your requests are open or not, but I don't lose anything by asking, right?

I wanted to know if you would be willing to write something for Ardeth Bay, it can be super fluffy or hurt/comfort, whichever option you choose will be fine with me.

Your account is one of the very few where I have found content for Ardeth.

If you don't want to write it, that's fine too. Thank you very much for your time, I hope you had a good week❤🤗

Scented Flowers & Sweet Melodies

A/N: Hello dear requester! Thank you for sending in this request! It was a pleasure writing it. Yes, my requests are open, I hadn't realised that people didn't know that and will make sure to include it in a more visible place.

Summary: The night Imhotep was imprisoned, the world was thrown into turmoil. With the future being so uncertain Ardeth seeks refuge with the person who beings him comfort, his wife.

Warnings: None

An air of despair echoed through the palace as the sandy dunes of the desert choked with grief. The dark night, all-encompassing the land of Egypt as the dark priest was entombed. His screams carried through the cool night’s air, through the desolate lanes of Egypt, miles away from Hamunaptra.

The palace was thrown in a state of turmoil that only settled in the earlier hours of the morning. The sun had not arisen on the dark night yet as a lone Medjai snuck from the palace, cautiously disguised as he silently walked through the streets of the city, looking for a destination in particular.

Through the tranquil streets of the kingdom were so quiet that he could almost forget the horrors he had witnessed that night, as if the silence would possibly drown out the screams of the high priest and his servants. As a Medjai he’d seen war, plague and death yet to be submitted to such a torturous curse, no matter how well-deserving, tugged at the more empathetic part of him. He also knew when morning came the world would be thrown into turmoil when the morning came, he was afraid of the future and it's potential consequences.

Before he was able to chase that train of thought he noticed that he was in front of a familiar stone house. It was small as compared to the other houses in the area, yet it was no less spacious and foundationally strong. The Medjai silently entered the house, ensuring not to make too much noise at the risk of waking up the inhabitant of the house.

Walking through the entrance hall he peered around the reception-room. It was tastefully decorated yet it radiated a sense of warmth from the hand-embroidered cushions that he knew she’d taken months to complete to the low tables that were made comfortable for their guests. The walls were decorated with tapestries that had been either gifted to them or that she wove. The soft scent of incense filled his senses, it was one of her favorites, a delicate floral scent that he’d never been able to quite place, yet it always reminded him of her.

Moving through the home, he made his way to the living room. It was larger than the reception room yet still, it reflected her personality. The room had touches of her sprinkled around. He saw well-loved furniture that they’d spent many moments on, talking, embracing, making love. The small and large jars scattered across the room with contents varying from incense to flowers. Beautifully woven textiles covered the floor and comfortable stools were scattered across the room, with a small table on one end.

After a few moments of looking around he finally made it towards their bedroom. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight before him. She was sprawled on their wooden bed, her hair tussled as her chest rose and fell. He remembered she hated the hard wood of the bed so she used extra layers of reed and soft cushions in order to fall asleep. He found her endearing and heart-warming.

He laid down his weapon on one of the storage cabinets before moving towards the bed. He tried maneuvering himself into her pillow-laden heaven without waking her yet he was unsuccessful and he found himself staring into her confused eyes.

“Ardeth?” she whispered, confusion filling her tone, “I thought you’d not be home for a few more nights. Is everything okay?”

At her inquiry he was unable to hold back his emotions. Within their home, in their bed, surrounded by the soft haven his wife had created he finally allowed himself to shed his harsh exterior, he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability.

As tears ran down his face, she merely embraced him unquestioningly, bringing his body closer to hers till he laid against her stomach, muffling his sobs as she ran her hand through his matted curls. She softly hummed to him, it felt familiar, almost nostalgic.

As his sobs slowly died down, he raised his head towards his wife, his blessing from Hathor herself, he slowly moved upwards till his forehead touched hers. He simply muttered a small ‘thank you’ before tucking himself against the crook of her neck and finding some much-needed peace. He knew that the world would soon demand his presence and his duties would call him away but for that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. For a single selfish moment, he found peace within a pillow-y haven with scented flowers and a sweet melody that carried him through his dreams.

[totowlff]

chapter forty-two — sweet fortune

➝ fortune of the day: you are not elisabeth lauda

➝ word count: 2,6k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: i would have thousands of things to say here, but i'll limit myself to a wish that you like the chapter.

APRIL, 2018

A subtle heat rose to Elisabeth's face, brought on by a delicate, familiar touch. She stirred slightly, letting out a sleepy sigh. She didn’t want to wake up. She was comfortable on the couch she was sleeping on in Toto’s office, covered and warm under a throw blanket she’d found, her head comfortably resting on one of the decorative cushions. She couldn’t think of a single reason she should wake up right then, not when it felt so good to sleep.

— Liesl — she heard someone whisper, as the warmth of the touch slid toward her head. She didn’t move. After all, there was no reason to get up. She’d been so tired lately. “No, I need the sleep,” she told herself. 

A new touch, this time on her forehead, made her move again. She reached up to swat the sensation away, this time making contact with something - someone’s hand. She opened her eyes to see that Toto was hovering just above her, staring at her intently.

— Good afternoon, sleepyhead — Toto said, sweetly  — How are you?

— Good afternoon — she replied, bringing her fingers to his face and touching his jaw — I'm fine. Is it time for qualifying yet?

The team principal laughed.

— Qualifying is already over, my love — he said.

Elisabeth blinked. She couldn’t have possibly slept through the entire session. How had she not heard the engines or the cheering coming from the stands? “The jet lag must have been bad this time”, she thought, sitting up on the couch as she rubbed her eyes.

— How did it go?

— Valtteri was third and Lewis fourth — Toto said — We had problems with the tires heating up.

Raising a hand to his face, Elisabeth caressed Toto’s cheek again.

— Shit — she muttered, making him chuckle.

— It's okay — Toto replied — Tomorrow will be better, I'm sure.

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

— You’re being optimistic?

— Well, someone has to be.

— And that someone is never you, Toto — Elisabeth said, making Toto laugh again.

— The data is promising, Liesl, I'm sure we'll have a good race tomorrow — he said, kissing her forehead again — And it's not just me who thinks so, your father agrees with me.

— Of course he does— she murmured, getting up from the couch as she rubbed her eyes — Speaking of my father…

— Downstairs, having coffee with Mark and Mike — Toto replied, already on his feet in front of her— Actually, he was the one that told me not to wake you up for qualifying and to let you sleep.

— Good thing he still cares about me — Elisabeth said, as she ran a hand over the front of the blouse she was wearing, trying to smooth out the creases that had formed during her nap — Is it really bad?

Toto looked thoughtfully up and down, taking in the state of Elisabeth’s clothes.

— Yes, it looks awful. I think you're going to have to throw that blouse away — he said, before giving a mischievous smile. Elisabeth stepped forward into Toto’s embrace and playfully patted his chest, just over the embroidered Tommy Hilfiger logo.

— Idiot.

— Just stating a fact, my love.

Shaking her head, she went to Toto's desk, where she had abandoned her bag before collapsing on the couch, searching for her phone. She saw a few notifications on the screen, including a number of messages from the secretary of Michael O'Leary, CEO of Ryanair, about the next steps in the negotiation of 75% of Laudamotion's shares, they left the office and walked downstairs, into the hospitality’s common area.

Niki was holding court at one of the tables, his coffee cup almost empty as he chatted with Mike Elliott and Mark Ellis, both of whom seemed entertained by the story Niki  was telling, something about a helicopter next to his hotel room in Zolder. Elisabeth had heard that story more times than she could count.

— Talking about Gilles, dad? — she asked, after placing her hands on his shoulders. Looking up at her, Niki smiled.

— Yes, Mauslein. Telling them what a complete nut he was. Imagine, landing a helicopter…

— In zero visibility — Elisabeth added — And then him telling you that he miscalculated the travel time between Nice and Zolder...

— Ah, you’ve heard this story before, I guess.

— You always tell it when you see a helicopter — she said, giving her father’s shoulders an affectionate squeeze as he laughed.

— Good stories always deserve to be told, you know that.

— Agreed, Dad — Elisabeth replied, before addressing the two men in front of Niki — Everything okay, boys?

— Everything’s alright, Elisabeth — Mike replied.

— Toto told me we had problems with the tires.

— Yes, we did — Mark said — They just weren't firing up.

— But they'll be fine tomorrow, dear, I'm sure — Niki said — We'll be able to recover at least six tenths with them at the right temperature.

— Are you sure? The weather doesn't look like it's going to change much, Dad.

The former driver raised an eyebrow.

— Are you being pessimistic?

— Considering that he — Elisabeth said, nodding toward where Toto was talking to Bradley — Stole my position as the optimist, I think that's all that's left for me.

— You should leave this post vacant, Mauslein.

— And where is the fun in not having anyone saying “I told you so”? — she said, flashing her father a mischievous smile. Niki shook his head. The moment was interrupted when Toto came back to the crowd, slipping a hand around Elisabeth’s waist.

— Everything’s good, Toto? — Mike asked.

— Yeah, I just came to invite Mr. Lauda for an interview.

— With whom?

— Sky Sports.

— Kravitz? — Niki asked, shoving his cell phone back into his pants pocket.

— Yes, sir. Are you going to talk to him?

The former driver gave a small smile.

— Do I have another option?

— Bradley didn’t say so, if there was. 

Niki stood up, adjusting the Mercedes coat he was wearing. The less-than-excited expression on his face made Elisabeth drop her bag on the table and turn to her father.

— I'm going with you — she said, her voice full of determination.

— Are you sure? — Toto asked — Don't you want to rest a little longer? You still look like you got hit by a truck.

— I appreciate the compliment — Elisabeth murmured, running her hands through her hair. She straightened it every day, but her nap had brought out some of its natural waves.

— I'm just looking out for your well-being.

— And you do it by saying that I'm ugly?

Toto huffed, running his hand nervously through his hair as his two engineers stared at him, looking clearly uncomfortable. 

— You're never ugly, my love, I always tell you that.

— And since when is saying that I look like a hit-and-run victim a way of saying that I look pretty? — she replied.

— I just want to say that you still look a little tired and you should take it easy if you’re still not feeling well.But, if you feel comfortable doing it, there's no problem.

— Great — Elisabeth said, putting her hand on Niki's shoulder — Let's go, Dad.

The former driver nodded, giving a quick wave goodbye to Mark and Mike before heading outside alongside his daughter, one hand casually placed in his pocket.

After opening the door leading to the paddock, the two of them walked down the small ramp together, finding Ted Kravitz holding his ever-present blue and red microphone, along with a clear bag with a red package inside. In front of the reporter, Ted’s usual cameraman, Pete, aimed the broadcast camera at them, the bright red light indicating that they were live.

— What you have there? — Niki asked, picking up one of the handles of the bag to look at what was printed on the plastic.

— Nothing much, I just have a bag of fortune cookies. We don't want to leave any Chinese clichés behind — Ted replied, his voice full of his usual good-natured cheer  — Oh, by the way, congratulations to you on the deal with Laudamotion.

Elisabeth couldn't help but smile at the mention of the family business. “Another perfect deal”, she thought, as her father talked about the partnership with Ryanair and the number of Boeings in their fleet. Then, the reporter looked at her with a smile.

— But will the planes have the Laudamotion or Ryanair brand, Elisabeth?

— No, they will continue to carry the Laudamotion branding — she replied — We will continue operating with our Airbuses, while Ryanair only works with Boeings, completely separate. Michael only wants the Laudamotion product and we will continue like this.

— And you have routes leaving from Berlin to popular destinations…

— No, no — Elisabeth corrected — We will take routes within Europe leaving from Vienna. In fact, the plan is to increase the number of routes departing from Austria, just like Niki did. And we're looking forward to it, aren't we, Dad?

— Yes, the intention is to increase competition and bring more benefits to passengers. Prices will fall, people will travel more, they will be happy and we will be happy too.

Ted smiled.

— I understand, and this is the Lauda family’s third airline, right?

— Actually, it's the second one — Niki replied.

— But…

— First we had Lauda, which was sold to Austrian Airlines, then we had NIKI, which was sold to Air Berlin but which we bought back last year — Elisabeth explained — So, in theory, it's Lauda, NIKI and NIKI again, but with a new name.

— Oh yes, perfect. So, good luck to you with Laudamotion — Ted said, looking at the producer who was next to the cameraman, gesturing for them to go towards the subject that really mattered there — Well, I think I'd better ask some questions about motorsport since we're here. It was a problem with the tires heating up today, do you think you can be better in the race? You know, Mercedes needs a win...

— No need to worry — Niki said, with a small smile on his face — We did what was on our run program and the data is looking very favorable. What's more, the Ferrari is only six tenths faster, so it's a gap that Lewis can certainly close.

— Do you agree with your father, Elisabeth? — Ted asked — By the way, I didn't see you in the garage during classification...

She swallowed hard, forcing a smile.

— I ended up having a last minute meeting. But I caught up on everything and I agree with my father. If there is anyone who can reduce the gap to Ferrari, it’s Lewis.

— Perfect — Ted said, finding the producer pointing to her wrist, informing him that their time was running out — Oh, do you want a fortune cookie? They have been amazing so far.

— Well…

— You don't need to eat, you can just look at the fortune inside it.

Elisabeth and Niki didn't have time to refuse before the reporter reached into the bag and pulled out two little red packages, handing one to each of them. Then, the former driver smiled, showing the packaging to the camera.

— Ah, the fortune is inside the cookie, do you want to open it? — Ted asked, holding back a laugh.

— Is there a fortune here? — Niki returned, looking surprised.

— Of course, that's the point of fortune cookies!

The former driver then tried to open the package, but was having a bit of difficulty. Ted took over, handing Niki the microphone. While the journalist talked about what was inside the fortune cookies taken by George Russell and Sebastian Vettel, Elisabeth decided to open her cookie, trying to imagine what was inside it.

— Here you go, Mr. Lauda — the reporter said, while returning the cookie to Niki — What does it say?

He allowed himself a few seconds to understand the sentence on the paper.

— Your wish will… Be granted after… A short delay.

— Your wish will be granted after a short delay! — Ted repeated, smiling — It means you want to win the race tomorrow, there will be a little delay because you're not on pole, but tomorrow it will happen.

— Yes, maybe — Niki said, looking at the paper again, a little thoughtfully.

— And you, Elisabeth, which is your fortune?

She looked up at the journalist after reading what was written.

— It says here that the love of my life is closer than I imagine, so I don't know if we can really take that into account — Elisabeth replied, giggling.

— Well, from what I can see here, there's someone standing at the hospitality door looking very enchanted with you — the reporter said, pointing to the building's entrance. When she turned her face, she found Toto peering at them with an admiring expression on his face. Waving quickly, she got a blown kiss in response, which made her cheeks blush furiously.

— He's always enchanted by her — Niki murmured.

— Of course, he's my fiancé. It's the least I expect from him — she said, smiling.

Ted ended the interview by wishing them good luck, to which they both thanked him. After the journalist walked away, the two returned to the hospitality door, where Toto was waiting for the two with his hands in the pockets of his team coat.

— How was the interview? — he asked.

— It was good. We even got fortune cookies — Elisabeth replied, showing both parts of her cookie — Do you want one?

Toto nodded, and Elisabeth popped one of the pieces of cookie into Toto’s mouth. She thought it was adorable, and so was his satisfied smile.

— And what fortune did the cookie have for you? — he asked, still chewing.

— Ah, something like the love of my life being closer than I imagined. In the end it was right, after all, I hadn't seen you at the door.

— Indeed — Toto said, before looking at Niki — And yours?

— Something about my wish being fulfilled after some delay.

— Ted thinks it's about the race tomorrow — Elisabeth said, before putting the rest of her cookie in her mouth.

The former driver snorted.

— I think it's about something else.

— What would it be? — Toto asked, raising an eyebrow.

— A grandchild — he replied, putting his hands on his jeans — More specifically a granddaughter, from the two of you.

Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

— Dad, you already know that we’re only going to plan our children after the wedding…

— And, considering the pace that all of the planning nonsense is going, you are not getting pregnant any time soon, right?

— It's not nonsense, dad, it's our marriage...

— I don't know why you insist on planning a big wedding when you both can go to the registry office, sign the papers and start fucking like rabbits to expand this family...

— Niki, please — Toto interrupted him, running a hand through his hair — We don't need to discuss this kind of thing here, do we?

Her father huffed, frustrated.

— If we don’t, I'll probably be dead before I hold my granddaughter in my arms. Excuse me — he said, before heading towards the hospitality stairs. 

Elisabeth pursed her lips as she watched her father walk up to the second floor.

— Something tells me he's looking forward to another baby in the family — Toto murmured, his thumb stroking her arm.

— You think? — she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

— Well, it's a guess, considering he wants us to postpone our wedding so we can start trying to have a baby — he said — And, if you wanna know, I don’t think it’s a bad idea…

Elisabeth snorted.

— You know this is not the right time. The season has just started, the car is terrible, we are ten points behind in the constructors' championship. We don't need another problem now.

— A child is not a problem, Liesl.

— Besides, I'm not going to cancel the buffet, the flowers, the venue, or my wedding dress...

— Have you had the dress made yet?

— Of course, in January.

— Well, I think there would still be time to adjust until the summer break…

She stared at him for a few seconds, not believing Toto's suggestion.

— You…

— Your belly wouldn't be so big, it would look good in the dress.

Elisabeth slapped his arm.

— If you think we’re getting married while I’m pregnant, you’re dreaming, Torger.

[kylobith]

Long Live the King!

In honour of Bernard Hill (1944 - 2024)

Rays of light caress the grass on the mounds of the Barrowfield at the foot of the mighty hill of Edoras. They bathe the landscape and the mountainside in their glow, enlivening the colours of the earth and the last snows of the season. What ochre dirt usually lies under the canopy of the sky now glows bright gold, nearly rivalling the roof of Meduseld, perched up far above it on its throne of stone. The land comes alive in the hues of the realm’s colours, proudly displayed on flagpoles held by soldiers.

Gathered around the newest mound on the Barrowfield, they line up the path to the temporary entrance. Heads held high with their helms down to their brows, their teary eyes behold the sky as the etiquette demands of them. Before them, closer to the path, courtiers stand in reverence, their weeping disturbing the otherworldly stillness of the scenery. By the carved stone frame of the mount’s threshold, a group of women cry out an ancient chant as armoured pallbearers carry forth the wooden stretcher upon which rests their fallen king.

Upon a cushion of green velvet embroidered with gold rests his proud head, once bearing the crown of his elders. His blond hair cascades upon it like a halo highlighting the kindness of his heart. Oh, a heart bearing much burden, yet that retained much affection for his demanding court and realm, and never once turned away from his family. Not deliberately, that is.

Behind him, what remains of the royal family follows. All are clad in black mourning dress, except for Éomer, whose shoulders are covered by a fur-lined cloak passed down from his uncle. His hand holds that of his betrothed, with her Gondorian hair braided in a Rohirric fashion. Across his chest, with its polished hilt resting on the crook of his left elbow, Herugrim awaits to be laid to rest in turn.

Following her brother is Éowyn, clasping an embroidered handkerchief to her quivering lips, supported by her husband-to-be. She leans against his shoulder, her trembling hand clutching his until her knuckles turn paler than her tear-streaked cheeks. Seldom has she managed to utter a word since she arose earlier this morning, so deep her grief stirs within her.

The pallbearers come to a halt before the threshold and those who followed them come to stand on either side of the pathway. Éomer releases Lothíriel’s hand and bows before his beloved uncle. The women cease their chants yet continue to weep, softly enough to bring attention to the king’s nephew. Keeping a firm grip on the crimson leather, he unsheathes Herugrim and holds it up above him, letting the blade reflect the sun’s glow.

‘All hail Théoden King!’ he cries out with his brow furrowed and a gleam of determination twinkling in his mournful eye.

And all respond, with the banners held high in their backs.

‘All hail Théoden King!’

Éomer solemnly lowers the sword and places it upon his uncle’s chest, closing his cold hands, which once ruled with firm grace over Rohan, around the handle. His sister steps forward and receives a small bunch of simbelmynë carefully picked from Théodred’s barrow from a soldier. She kisses the flowers and tucks them into her uncle’s grip. With a last caress on his brow, the Lady of Rohan murmurs.

Another sob wracks through her and warm tears flood her delicate traits.

‘Be at peace, son of Rohan. Your children shall never forget you, nor your gentle heart. Oh, find your fathers and embrace our beloved Théodred in our stead!’

‘Farewell, uncle, farewell!’

As she stumbles back, she collides with her brother, whose hand rests upon her shoulder. They look upon Théoden in grief as the women resume their laments, whilst bystanders bow their heads.

Faramir observes Éowyn from the corner of his eye. His heart sinks at the thought of her suffering, and never has he felt so helpless. What can one man do in the face of mourning? What more can he do besides embrace her when she needs it and listen to her memories of her childhood? Not that he minds any of it, he would wear his arms thin from holding her if he could, drown his fingers from brushing away her tears, grow deaf from hearing her speak. And he would do it all over again in a heartbeat, a thousand times over, if given the chance!

But the sight of her slouched shoulders when he knows how proud they always are triggers a pain greater than the arrows that pierced his body. Yet patience is all he must show. Patience and compassion. These virtues he has never lacked, despite his misplaced humility when praised about them.

And so, he listens to the laments sung in words whose meaning evades him, his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the shieldmaiden and her brother. When the chants end, Théoden is brought inside the barrow, beheld for the last time by the orphaned children he once considered his. The tomb is closed, and the crowd soon disperses, retracing their steps towards the Golden Hall, where a banquet will be held to reminisce about the great deeds of the fallen king and honour their new monarch.

Faramir stands by the pathway, nodding politely at the soldiers, courtiers, and those he has come to meet in Ithilien and Minas Tirith. Lothíriel, his cousin, comes to place a kiss on his cheek, squeezing his arm with a brief smile, before walking away. Éomer bows his head at him and Faramir pats his shoulder in silent support, which the new king of Rohan accepts gladly by placing his hand over his future brother-in-law’s.

But Éowyn remains by the mound, her eyes fixed upon the stone now separating her from her uncle. He awaits her, keeping his distance at first to allow her to mourn in peace. As long minutes pass, he pinches his lips and draws nearer, not wanting to startle her.

‘I would have you smile again,’ her sweet voice rises before he even reaches her, ‘not grieve for those whose time has come.’

Éowyn peers over her shoulder, her eyes brimming with tears.

‘That is what he once told me. Before the battle, before he—'

She turns again, choking up on her words. Faramir’s arms encircle her and press her gently to his heart as he rests his chin on the top of her head.

‘He must have been a great man, for him to earn such devotion from you,’ he whispers.

‘Far beyond that.’

With a sniffle, she looks up at him, speaking in a firm tone which contrasts with the vulnerability in her eyes.

‘I intend to respect his word, Faramir. So, I beg you never to make me weep.’

Faramir tucks an untameable tress of her golden hair and offers her a tender smile.

‘Beloved Éowyn, I would never dream of it.’

Nestling her head underneath his chin again, she lets out a sigh of relief. A smile grows on his cheeks.

‘I fear that I have spoken a lie. I can think of three instances where your crying would be welcome. The first is if one of the most moving poems recited from my lips by the hearth in our home would stir you so that tears would grace your eyes. The second would be our wedding day. And the third, if I dare dream of it, is the day that you hold our future child for the first time.’

Éowyn grins against his neck and places a kiss in its crook.

‘How presumptuous of you to believe that I would show any emotion in such instances!’

‘Would you not?’ he asks, his eyes widening in surprise.

A chuckle escapes her and her hands cradle his face.

‘Of course, I will. And I am ready to bet that you would weep before I do in all three situations.’

Faramir laughs along and brushes his lips against hers for a moment. A single instant where there is no place for grief. When he pulls away, his thumb traces her cheekbone.

‘We must return to Meduseld. You are the one to present the cup to your brother.’

‘Very well. Go ahead, I will be right behind you.’

Faramir nods and begins to walk away, respecting her wishes. Éowyn turns to the barrow and comes forward to graze the stone mantel with her fingertips. She presses a kiss to it and takes a deep breath.

‘Farewell, uncle. Be at peace; I am smiling again.’