#not tagging this one for anything so it hopefully doesn’t breach containment

[minecraftbookshelf]

Since it looks like traffic life season 5 might be imminent, I’m lighting a fire under my one-shot that is literally just me rambling about how to adapt omegaverse to Minecraft mechanics in the context of the requirements and restrictions of a life series game. (Rating is G/PG…at least the part I’m writing. Speculation about what comes after is entirely up to the individual readers XD)

There is a character in said oneshot who is literally just “tired administrative assistant not paid enough to explain this to people”

[damn-stark]

Dreadful summer nights

Chapter 8 of Different Light

A/N- I hope you guys liked it :) I can’t wait to write more!! Let me know what y’all thought?!

Warning- SLOWBURN, fluff

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Summer.

Summer was and has been completely dreadful. There's been nothing to do and nowhere to go beside the corridors of your own home, the garden, and Draco’s bedroom to pester him.

With your father out all day and sometimes all night, and with Narcissa defiant not to leave home without him, you've been stuck at home. Just bored, sitting on a reading chair with your legs on the headrest and your head dangling off the edge of the chairs cushion, throwing a green apple up in the air and catching it before it hits you.

That’s how it’s been all summer long. Well that and beside the letters—

“It’s that Potter boy again, he was attacked by Dementors today.”

You gasp at the sound of your fathers voice echoing from the entrance and instantly stop what you’re doing, forgetting in that quick action about the green apple you had thrown in the air until it fell back down to hit you in the face. “Ow.”

“Did he send them?”

Very quietly you twist your body around to sit up straight—as if that was going to do anything to make you hear better. Regardless you also do it because you didn’t want to be caught sitting improperly.

“No, but perhaps someone else did. But because of the attack he had to use magic in front of a muggle and break the breach of underage sorcery. He should be expelled from Hogwarts, but that’s still to be determined.”

You're quick to your feet after the rest of the news and instantly get drowned in worry for said boy and find the need to check on him the best way you could. You hardly even think to hear more of the news, if there was more, that instant just made your mind race to Harry; and that was your motivation to race to your room, slowing down just as you passed Narcissa and your father to greet him. “Hello, father!”

His head turned to follow you up the stairs and quickly come at you with a response. “Where are you going in such a hurry? You didn’t even have time to greet me properly.”

You sigh out heavily through your nose and stop in your tracks to trail back towards your father, offering him a quick smile before giving him a peck on the cheek. “Hello papa, it’s good that you’re home.”

“Hmm, go along now, but come back for dinner.”

You show him a beaming grin and then spin on your heels to retrace your steps back to your room, double checking the hall before closing your door, so that Draco wasn’t being sneaky and trying to find any dirt on you to go tell father.

Once you’re on your desk chair, you proceed to sit quickly and clumsily get out a small piece of parchment and a quill to write to Harry.

Dear, Harry,

I’ve heard the news of what happened to you, and I couldn’t wait until we returned to school to have to check on you, so I’m sending you another letter this week.

The way I heard the news was in the matter of eavesdropping so I don’t know much, but I think I know enough. I hope you’re doing okay, I’ve never faced Dementors, but I know you have so that’s keeping me from thinking the worst. if you have the chance to write back, do so as soon as you can with news of your well-being, or else I think I won’t sleep with the worry that’ll grow.

And maybe to ease your own worry, I also do have hope you’ll return to school, they can’t expel you for something that wasn’t your fault. So remain hopeful Harry. If you want more updates on what the ministry thinks, remember that you can always ask me and I’ll get whatever information I can from what I can hear.

Lastly to not make this any longer, good job! As unfortunate as it is, today’s attack was your second time defeating them, so I think that deserves some recognition!

With love, your friend, Y/N Malfoy.

Forcing yourself to leave this letter short, you end it before you could write a whole essay, rolling it up as small as you could and walking to your open window to attach it to your eagle-owl Athena. “I know I can always count on you girl, so please take this letter to Harry as fast as you can. And remember, remain undetected.”

Athena voices a soft ‘oohu’ before leaning in so you’d pet the top of her head before she flew off to do as she was asked; disappearing into the darkening, sweet smelling evening. Leaving you to wait, and wait for what seemed hours. Having to distract yourself with going down to dinner, but hardly even being able to concentrate on what was talked about around the table as your mind only worried for that awaited reply.

And before, in days, weeks and the few months that passed this summer, after Harry sent his first letter to you and you sent one back, that cycle started, you waited for a reply after you sent a letter. Yet the anticipation was never so deeply developed as it was today. Before you could wait to hear back from him, after all you didn’t want to raise suspicion, but today was different, this letter contained important matters that couldn’t wait for some other time. You wanted answers. And yet they took forever to arrive. Not until almost midnight as you were falling asleep on your desk chair.

And once the news thankfully did arrive, you ran the fastest you had ever done to meet your owl, almost ripping the letter attached to her leg.

Y/N,

You’re always so kind, so to put you at ease, I’m alright. My cousin Dudley, not so much though.

Regardless, thank you for believing in me, it seems from the past couple letters I’ve received today that no one has.You’re the first one to even congratulate me on winning against dementors in fact, so thank you, I appreciated that.

It seems that's all I have been saying to you all summer though.

But that’s because you’re the only person I’ve really talked to.You’re the only person who ever writes me with more than just a few bleak sentences.You’ve become a true friend to me and again I appreciate it.

And regarding your offer to help inform me with the news about myself, I’d like that. But if at any time it gets too hard just leave it as it is, okay?

I’ll hopefully see you when we return to school.

Harry.

A relieved smile grows on your face and you sit back in your chair and fold the letter back up to tuck it safely with the rest of his and Fred’s letters.

Now with that worry done with, all you had to worry about was what else you could hear. Which at the end of the day wasn’t a lot. The daily prophet seemed to be for once oblivious on news regarding Harry Potter, nothing new was reported, nothing about his attack, or the aftermath of the attack. All the news you received was from your father, but that too wasn’t a lot. You tried to get more news from Harry, but that end was cut off. The three days following the events, you tried to report to him with the little things you heard, but Athena returned with your same letter untouched. You tried the next day, but that too was returned.

It was odd.

All you had to rely on now was your father.

“So, father, what's on the news on Harry Potter's trial?” You ask innocently.

“I hope he gets expelled and has time in Azkaban.” Draco interjects with a smug grin.

You shoot a discreet glare before looking back at your father who remained serious. “Harry Potter, did not get expelled, nor did he get time in Azkaban,”

At the news you express a soft relieved sigh and take a sip of your drink to hide the fact that you were smiling.

“He will continue going to school because his charges were cleared.”

Draco scoffs and grips tightly onto his fork. “But he broke the law, he should be punished.”

“Should’ve. But Dumbledore was at his side.”

Your eyes study them both before you shift your gaze down to your food and add a daring comment before taking a bite of your food. “Well, I don’t think that would be fair, he was attacked, he was simply defending himself. How would you like it if you got put in a cell because you defended yourself, Draco?”

All three pairs of eyes flew to you at the sound of your comment and silence overtook the dining table for a moment. When you looked up you simply shrugged while you swallowed the food in your mouth.

Once Draco fully understood your comment he scoffs again and doesn’t think much of the comment. “Well I think, Potter, just summoned the dementor and then attacked it because he knew everyone would talk about it. He just wanted more popularity.”

Your gaze narrows on your brother and you set your fork down to argue. “You really think that? You think he summoned those horrible monsters just to gain popularity?”

“Yes.” Draco shrugs with his smug smile glued to his face.

Just as you’re about to shoot back, you’re interrupted by your father. “And does it matter if he, or did not summon them himself, y/n? He’s below us and shouldn’t be a topic that has you arguing with your brother.”

You swallow thickly and lower your gaze as you offer him one small nod. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Regardless. Kids how would you both like it if next summer instead of coming home you two went out of the country on a nice vacation?” Narcissa finally gets to interject with her voice sounding a bit shaky.

Both Draco look at her and then meet each other’s gaze for a brief moment, both finding it strange that she would suggest it, Narcissa was always so eager to see you both return from school, especially during the summer since your stay at home lasted longer than two weeks. She hardly liked being apart from either of you, it was at times overbearing, but it was at times also sweet. So her suggesting for the both of you to leave without having the chance to see her was completely off putting. “But—”

“Narcissa, we’ve talked about this,” your father cuts you off, “they’re not little children anymore. They won’t escape the reality of what we’re facing, they’re not cowards.”

“But they’re children, our children. I can’t let them fight for him, Lucius. They’re just children.”

“And we’re also Malfoys, how would it look like if they just ran away? They have to make this family proud.”

Once again, just like many times this summer after the dark lord returned, you’ve found Narcissa and your father arguing more than you’ve ever heard them argue. Usually always about the same topic, Draco and you. Which always leads to the both of you walking away where you couldn’t hear them.

This time is no different, you look to Draco to meet his gaze and point your head to the hall so he’d follow as you both quietly stood from your chairs and slipped away. Walking in silence until nothing was heard but each other’s footsteps inside the corridors of your dimly lit halls.

“They can’t seem to stop arguing.” Draco says in a much less smug voice than what he used moments ago.

You look to your side to see his shoulders were low and his eyes were unfocused. “Yeah, but they’ll stop soon. Once they come to an agreement.”

Draco manages a soft scoff and feigns to be more confident than he currently looked. “Well I can decide for them, I'll work with the dark lord like father, I’m ready.”

This time you scoff and raise your brow at him. “You are?”

“Yes, just like you.”

Your eyes instantly fly to him and you frown. “I’m not ready.” Draco looks at you and his confidence falters. “I don’t want to be a death eater, I agree with our mum.”

Draco’s lips part and he stays quiet for a brief second, he balls his fists and his eyebrows furrow as he glares at the ground before stepping out into the garden. Not daring to look at you as he tried to argue. “You’re scared. Just like her. But we’re not kids anymore.”

“She’s worried.” You correct him. “It’s okay to be scared, Draco, none of it is easy.”

Draco puts his hands in his pants pockets and looks to the hedges ahead that were lit by the lamps above, he tries to hide the fact that he was scared, that the topic of the dark lord scared him, but you were no fool, you could see right through him.

“So what are you going to run?”

“Not without you.”

Draco’s eyes snap to you and his gaze narrows on you, his lips twitch, but he’s quick to hide any sort of indication of a smile by looking away and simply continuing with his stubbornness. His reaction however makes you smile and playfully hit his shoulder with yours before adding one last bit and finishing with that topic already. “If you go, I go. Simple as that. Just because we may fight doesn’t mean I won’t have your back, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Draco rolls his eyes, making you smile wider.

——

It felt exciting being back on the train that went to Hogwarts, it felt exciting being away from home and finally getting to reunite with your friends and Fred; with Harry. You had been counting the hours since you had woken up until you would finally get here. That feeling was so strange since when you would go to Durmstrang you dreaded waking up to head to school.

Now you can't think of anything better. Hogwarts truly felt like a home away from home.

When you had gotten on the train albeit, since Draco had no recollection of all the torment from last year, it was hard convincing him that you were okay sitting somewhere else that wasn’t near him. As tough as he acted, he liked having you around, he liked showing you off like a proud brother. It was admirable, but you've been apart from your friends for too long and stuck inside a house with Draco for longer. Plus he loathed your friends, he didn’t know it was those friends you were saving a compartment for and he didn’t need to know. You’d deal with that headache later.

Now you counted the minutes—

Before you could finish your thought, a sudden loud crack goes off in front of you, making you jump off your seat and look to the spot where the noise originated from, to see two redheads suddenly in front of you with happy, mischievous grins on their face. “Malfoy!”

You hold onto your chest after your yelp and glare at them both, forgetting the greeting you and planned for them. “Well that just answered my question.” You say through gritted teeth.

“What no welcoming hug, or a happy smile for your best friends?” George remarks sarcastically, trying his hardest not to smile at your still frightened state.

You close your book and shake your head. “No, that was thrown out the window the moment you both chose to scare me.”

Fred chuckles and takes a seat beside you, wrapping his arm around you and continuing to tease you. “We saw you through the window while we were walking to the train,”

“And thought we’d show off the fact that we can apparate now.” George finishes as he sits at your other side.

You roll your eyes. “Show offs.”

Both brothers just grin and you continue to look at both, noticing the change in their appearance. You grin brightly and stand to get a better view. “You two got hair-cuts!”

“Yeah,” Fred says, beginning to smugly brush his fingers through his hair.

“We thought you’d never notice.” George continues.

“Well they look great, they suit you both.”

“But who pulls it off the best?” George asks, “be honest. And no pity votes for your boyfriend, now.”

Fred scoffs and shrugs. “It’s not a pity vote if she likes it better on me. Now, darling choose.”

Your eyes drift to both Fred and George for a brief moment before a smirk tugs on your lips and you simply shrug. “Like I said, I like them on the both of you. I won’t choose.”

Fred and George groan and just as they’re going to protest, three others come into the compartment. Your smirk falters and a smile threatens to show as you see Harry walk in after Ron and Hermione.

“Y/N!” Hermione greets excitedly, instantly throwing her arms around you. You return the embrace and her bright smile.

“Hello, Hermione, it’s so good seeing you again.”

“You too,” Hermione breaks away and walks back to sit beside Ron. “I was excited to see you, I hope your summer went well.”

“It went...okay,” you scoff, sitting back down in between the twins and focusing on Harry. “Hi Harry.”

Harry’s distant gaze looks away from the window and lands on you, seeming to take some time to really grasp who he was seeing until several minutes passed. “Y/N, hi.” A blush grows on his cheeks and he shifts in his seat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t write back if you sent me a letter after my last one, but I was well, busy with my trial and all.”

“Oh,” you wave off, “I understand, I imagined so. But didn’t I tell you; I knew you were going to return to school. I should’ve bet on it.” You grin, unknowingly catching everyone off guard with your conversation with Harry. “Are you okay, though?”

Harry hesitates, but he chooses to nod. Not really convincing you, but not leaving you a chance to follow up on his hesitation. “Yeah, I’m okay now. Are you? I mean, I remember you mentioned about your father and Narcissa arguing all the time.”

Your eyes widened at his comment and they briefly flicker to Fred; who you hadn’t mentioned about your father, or Narcissa arguing in your letters during the summer. You didn’t mean to leave it out and leave him in the dark when he would ask if everything was fine, but it just felt easier to talk about that with Harry.

With Fred, well it was all lighthearted and fun, while with Harry...well it could be the same, but it was also more serious. It just wasn’t the same.

“Oh,” you try to brush his comment off smoothly, “yeah, I’m fine.”

You avert your gaze and look to Hermione and then twins. Choosing to leave the letter talk for some other time and focusing instead on her and the twins the rest of the way to Hogwarts.

——

“Good evening children!” Dumbledore greets as he takes his usual spot by the podium, making you take your last bite of food before giving him your wavered attention. “Now we have two changes in staffing this year. We are pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who’ll be taking care of magical creatures while Professor Hagrid is on temporal leave. Now, we also wish to welcome our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dolores Umbridge. And I’m sure you’ll all join me in wishing the Professor good luck.” He pauses for everyone to clap before continuing, “as usual our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me—”

The sudden sound of a very squeaky clearing of the throat catches your attention, just like it had with the rest of the students. Where there had been some murmurs here and there, now there was total silence at the sound of the new professor in all bubble gum pink suddenly, and surprisingly interrupting Professor Dumbledore. It makes your curiosity heighten and your head raise so you could see her fully standing up from chair and begin to walk to the podium.

“Thank you Headmaster for those kind words of welcome.” She softly says. “And how lovely to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me...”

You scoff and pinch your eyebrows at her absurd and daring assumption.

“I’m sure we’re all going to be very good friends.”

Your eyebrows raise and a smirk appears on your lips as you try hard not to laugh, feeling the twins lean back towards you from their spots in their assigned table to both simultaneously add a sarcastic remark that made you snicker. “That’s likely.”

Albeit at the quiet and private comment the twins made, the pink lady looks to the three of you and shoots you a glare, whilst her smile that she carried seemed to have more hatred behind it than her actual glare. “The ministry of magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be a vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, process for the sake of process, must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be prohibited.” Professor Umbridge ends her speech with a giggle before walking back to her seat, letting you grin and lean back towards the twins to add one last comment regarding her.

“Well this year ought to be fun.”

The twins lean back and even if you couldn’t see it, they both smirked as they both simultaneously respond, “wickedly fun.”

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence , @ilovespideyyy , @m3ssytrash , @hogwarts-babe-blog , @yodaboo

[tolkienrsb]

TRSB19: Final Check In, Plus Posting, Pinch Hit and Treating Info

Goooood morning, TRSB-ers! 

Today is the day - final check in.  (Insert appropriately dramatic music here.) 

This reminder is going to be long - to save your eyes if you're in a rush, the key message for writers is, please check in within the next 24 hours to tell us you're on course to post your fic in the AO3 collection by 25th August.  As mentioned in the last check in email and the original posted schedule, if you don't check in this time you will be automatically defaulted and you will not be permitted to take part next year.  (A couple of you have checked in ahead of time, which is fine, you don't need to check in again.) 

Artists, if you haven't already, please supply your final art to your writers unless you've agreed another arrangements.  Writers, if you have an art-related problem, please speak up now!

(Info on posting, pinch hits and treats is under the cut)

Other stuff...

Posting Fic

We're sure you know the drill by now, but fics should be in the collection, with the artwork embedded, linked or appropriately credited, by 25th August*.  The AO3 collection is over here.

Fics must be complete.   If you're still making edits, please post anyway; we aren't checking your grammar, just that there is a complete fic for each artwork that meets the word count minimum.  Placeholders will be removed.

Again, if you miss this date or submit incomplete fic, your claimed art will be reassigned to a pinch hitter and you will not be able to take part next year.  

If you are having an unexpected life emergency and anticipate a problem with the deadline, please tell us ahead of the 25th and we will do what we can to help!

*In reality you may have a few hours' grace.  Due to work commitments and time differences, the mods are unlikely to be checking the collection until around 1200 BST/CET on the 26th.  However, please make every effort to observe the official deadline!

Posting Art

As per the FAQ, artists are responsible for posting their own artwork and supplying the link to their writer ahead of posting on the 25th.  Yes, we know this means that depending on how you go about things, the art may be revealed approximately a week before the fics.  This isn't breaching the rules so please don't worry.

Please discuss posting logistics in your pairs - e.g. are you embedding the artwork in the fic, linking in the story notes, other?  It is up to each pair to decide how to do this; the mods are not responsible for sorting this out!

There are several options commonly used when posting an Author/Artist collaboration: “Co-Authors”: Creating a single AO3 work with both the Author and Artist listed as Co-Authors, with the artwork embedded into the story. (If you’re going with this option, the images need to be hosted somewhere because AO3 doesn’t offer image hosting. Please don’t use Tumblr hotlinks if you can help it. If you change your url, the links will die and sometimes they die anyway because Tumblr, so please choose something more reliable. Contact us if you need help with image hosting.) “Inspired By”: The Artist creates an AO3 work for their artwork, and the Author posts their fic to AO3 as a work inspired by another work – this is a good option if your team prefers not to embed the artwork into the story “Gift”: The Author creates an AO3 work, gifts the work to the Artist and either embeds the artwork or includes a link to wherever the artist has chosen to post their artwork (eg: Tumblr, Deviantart, Dreamwidth or Livejournal, etc.)

Tumblr Promotional Posts

This caused some confusion last year.  Hopefully this year the instructions are clearer, but please get in touch with any questions ASAP.

To ensure the fruits of your collaboration get the love and admiration they deserve, one of your pair (it’s up to you who) should create a Tumblr promotional post after August 25th but before Sept 1st, advertising the amazing results of your collaboration.  The TRSB Tumblr blog will be reblogging these in staggered schedule until around Sept 10th, to ensure maximum exposure for each team.

The Tumblr promotional post should contain:

A SFW crop of the artwork, or a story banner (note: Whole art pieces should only be included if the artist is posting the masterpost and if the art is SFW)

Fic title and AO3 link

Link to the artwork if posted separately

Links to Author’s and Artist’s tumblrs and/or AO3     accounts

Fic and Artwork Rating (G/PG/M/NC-17)

Warnings (As per AO3 guidelines, please warn for     graphic violence, underage, non-con or major character death) and use any     other relevant tags as you see fit

Relationships

Characters

Word count

A blurb or story summary

@ mention of the @tolkienrsb tumblr

Story Banner: the tumblr dashboard’s image width is 540px.  The largest image size is 1280x1920px.  Banner can be a SFW crop of the artwork by itself, a whole SFW art piece if the artist is posting the masterpost, or an actual story banner made up of a crop of the art which includes fic title, author, artist. Tagging: the first 5 tags you use are searchable on Tumblr so we suggest tagging your promotional with: main pairing, main characters, name of author and artist, fest, warnings. Reblog Dates:  Please discuss in your pairs if you have any preferences regarding when we reblog your post, and tell the mods so that we can accommodate these - for example, not posting on Shabbat.

Pinch Hits

We currently have one piece of art looking for love - no. 25 in the preview gallery, featuring Dwalin and Gloin (plus Gimli and Legolas) in the Glittering Caves of Aglarond.  If anyone is able to pick this up then please let us know by email ASAP!  

There may also be other pinch hits coming out in the next few days.  Given the time frames we are willing to flex the deadline for our pinch hitters - drop us a note to discuss.

Treats are also highly encouraged - speaking of which...

Treats

If you've finished your fic, missed author signups, didn't get your preferred artwork, or would like to help with the pinch hits but can't muster 5k words, then please consider treating!  Treats can be added to the collection any time between now and reveals (Sept 1st).  A treat can be any length from a semi-drabble to a full blown novel (though if you can write a full blown novel before Sept 1st, Mod Narya would love to know your secret).

If you don't have access to the gallery, please get in touch with the mods and we will sort this out for you.  The sign up form for writing treats is here.  You don't have to be signed up to write a treat; this just helps the mods monitor which artwork we can expect fics for.

***

Phew - think that's everything, but as always, shout if anything is unclear or you need our help.  We can't wait to see what you've created! 

Mods Raiyana and Narya

[gluupor]

Idk if you are taking prompts/you know anyone who is willing to, but I just read a short story by the SOC author called Ayama and the Thorn Wood and I just thought of an andreil au. It’s about a girl who’s family doesn’t care about her at all and they send her to bargain with a beast in the woods as they will be compensated by the king. The beast tells her to tell him a story that will make him feels smth other than anger and she goes back a couple times, and they fall in love it’s so cute💕

This ended up being very long. Hopefully the Read More works; if it doesn’t I’ve tagged this post #long so you can blacklist it. It’s also available on AO3.

If you are the person who originally sent me the ask can you write back to let me know if you liked it?

Deep in the Western Mountains a spoiled and selfish King ruled over a lush valley. He lived lavishly, excessively, while his people suffered hardship. Their Kingdom was involved in several pointless disputes with neighbouring territories due to the King's easily bruised pride. The people in the valley grumbled angrily over the high taxes and hard living, but quietly, always quietly, not wanting to bring the King's wrath upon themselves.

The King had three advisors that he kept close by; he treated them as possessions and ensured that they all knew that they were his to command as he pleased. The least of the advisors called himself Neil, but only in his own mind. The King had other epithets for him.

The war in the East was getting particularly bloody causing both conscription in the army and taxes to rise at an alarming rate. The King's advisors begged and pleaded with him to forgive the slight, to call their people home, but their requests fell on deaf ears. The people of the valley began to grumble less quietly, angry and vengeful over their lost sons and gold.

Tensions were at a high when one day a goatherd went out to his pasture in the morning and found all his goats dead, their remains scattered. His was not the only pasture affected, causing panic among the commoners.

"No ordinary man could have done this," they whispered. "Only a Monster could do such a thing."

For some years it had been known that a Monster had taken up residence in the Thorn Wood. As a rule the valley people avoided entering the surrounding forest at all and so there had been an uneasy truce between them. One which the Monster had now broken.

The King promised to protect his subjects from this threat. "This is why your sons and tax money must support a strong military," he told them and they fervently agreed.

"Silvertongue," said the King idly to the least of his advisors, "you are finally to put your tongue to good use. You are to go and speak with this Monster to convince him to leave our herds alone."

"He'll be killed!" protested the King's favourite advisor, the man who was second only to the King.

"But he's so quick and clever with his quips," drawled the King, his beetle-black eyes boring into Neil with malevolence. "Surely he'll be able to talk his way out of danger."

"What will my reward be if I succeed?" asked Neil in resignation. He belonged to the King; he could not disobey him.

"Money," said the King. "I will reward you handsomely."

Neil strung a copper cup and a silver knife onto his belt and headed across the valley. The sun beat down on him relentlessly as he passed through now-empty pastures that contained only the remains of herd animals, their corpses obscured through black clouds of flies.

He was unafraid. All his life he had been at the mercy of violent men, the Monster could not be much worse than them. Perhaps it would even kill him quickly.

He approached the Thorn Wood cautiously, the magic of the place causing his skin to break out in gooseflesh. He pushed a thorny bramble aside and stepped into the forest.

Even without the tingle on his skin, he would have known that the wood was magical. It was dark and cool under the trees, the night sky above dotted with stars, even though it had been high noon when he breached the forest's boundary. A light breeze blew through the trees, soothing his overheated skin.

It was ominously quiet, no sounds of birds or insects, only the slight gurgle of a brook. Neil could never remember being quite so thirsty, so he moved forwards, taking the copper cup from his belt and dipping it into the fresh, cool water.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you," came an indolent voice from behind him, "unless you wish to become a beast like me."

Neil whipped around, cursing himself for momentarily forgetting why he was here. The Monster stood fairly close by. He was shaped like a man, albeit a very short one, but he had curling horns protruding from either side of his head. His eyes glowed yellow, and his nose emitted a thin stream of smoke when he breathed.

Neil slowly gripped his silver knife. "Monster," he said.

"Little rabbit," replied the Monster. "Were you sent to kill me?" he continued mockingly, before his hand darted forwards, impossibly quickly, and grabbed Neil's knife. He plunged it into his own chest, but the knife turned away, unable to pierce the Monster's hide. "This won't help you." He threw the knife down at Neil's feet and smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, it was distinctively threatening, all of the Monster's pointed teeth showing.

"I am not afraid of you," said Neil.

The Monster cocked his head thoughtfully. "Interesting," he said. "Why are you here, rabbit?"

"You have killed our grazing animals," said Neil.

"Have I?" responded the Monster. "Well, the King's own herds have not been touched. I am sure that he will be able to make up the difference."

"While the King is happy to do so-" Neil's words cut off in his throat, choking him, and a loud siren echoed in his ears. He looked around wildly.

"Careful," said the Monster once the sound had ceased. "The wood has no rules but one. Speak truth."

Neil clenched his jaw in frustration. "Will you agree to leave our herds alone?"

"For nothing in return?" asked the Monster. "No."

"What do you want?"

"A story," said the Monster, after some contemplation.

"A story?" echoed Neil.

"Yes, a story," said the Monster. "If you can tell me a story that does not bore me I will agree to leave your herds be. If not," he smiled again, showing his teeth, "I will eat you."

"I can't imagine I'd be a very satisfying meal," said Neil, gesturing at his skinny frame.

"No," agreed the Monster, "but perhaps killing you would discourage future trespassers."

Neil rolled his eyes and tried to think of a story to tell. He wondered if the wood's rules would prevent him from saying anything untrue.

"Once," he started hesitantly, "there was a boy who was always hungry. No matter how much he ate he couldn't fill himself up and he was desperately unhappy. His parents consulted doctors and wise women and sages from far away lands but no one could tell them why their son had such an appetite.

"News of the boy's strange affliction travelled far and wide until it was heard by a doctor's daughter, a beautiful, compassionate, and intelligent girl. She brought the news to her father who had travelled all over the world and knew many things. She entreated him to help the boy.

"Together the doctor and his daughter travelled to the boy's hometown. The doctor examined him, making him open his mouth up wide so that he could peer down into his gullet. 'Ah,' said the doctor. 'I see.' He turned to the boy's mother. 'Did you ever sleep with the window open while the boy quickened in your belly?' he asked.

"The boy's mother was taken aback but answered in the affirmative. The doctor explained that while the mother had slept she had accidentally breathed in the night air and a small piece of the night, black and void, was now lodged in her son. The only thing that could fill the emptiness was the sun.

"The boy was perplexed. How would he reach the sun in order to consume the teaspoonful he needed to sate his hunger? There were not any ladders tall enough to reach the sky. The doctor's daughter was the one who came up with a solution. The sun, she realized, was not always up in the sky. In the evenings it touched the sea in the west. She and the boy sailed to where the sea met the sky and at sunset the boy collected a teaspoonful of sun-"

The Monster scoffed. "And I suppose it filled the void within him and he married the beautiful, intelligent doctor's daughter and had twenty babies and lived happily ever after?" he asked scornfully.

"No," said Neil indignantly, although that was how the story had ended when his mother had told it to him when he was a small child. "That would be nonsense. The boy did drink the teaspoonful of sun and it did cure his everlasting hunger. And he did marry the doctor's daughter and have many children. But despite all that, the boy found that he was still unhappy. Some people are born with a piece of night inside them - a hollow place that can never be filled with good food or sunshine. The empty void can never be banished and we must simply endure it, as the boy did."

The Monster watched Neil intently, his yellow eyes seeming to see through him completely. Neil regretted what he had said; he had not wanted to reveal so much of his own truth. Casting his eyes away from the Monster's knowing stare, he noticed pale, thin scars along the Monster's forearms.

"I thought that knives couldn't pierce a Monster's hide," said Neil in confusion.

"Not a Monster's hide, no," agreed the Monster, with a significant look over to the brook. Neil remembered what the Monster had revealed earlier.

"Were you once a man?" asked Neil.

The Monster was quiet for a long time. "I will not harm your herds, rabbit," he said finally, turning away from Neil. "Go now, and don't return."

Neil knew that the vow was good because the wood demanded truth, but he needed proof to bring back to his King. The Monster seemed to know this. "Take a sprig of quince blossoms," he said. "It only grows in enchanted lands. That should be proof enough."

Neil's return from the Thorn Wood caused widespread joy and relief. The word spread that the Monster would trouble their herds no more. The only one displeased by this turn of events was the King.

"And what did you have to offer the beast in order to protect our herds?" he asked snidely, his eyes cold and calculating. "What have you given away?"

"Nothing that couldn't be parted with," replied Neil placidly.

The King hemmed and hawed but under the watchful eyes of his two other advisors he granted Neil with the reward he had been promised.

Life in the valley resumed its normal rhythm, but Neil found himself often distracted. He thought often about the Thorn Wood, the cool, enchanted clearing, and the creature that dwelt there.

As the fear of the Monster lessened, the old complaints of the common folk started up again. The King had raised the taxes even higher to help fund his petty squabbles. Tensions were again at a high when one day a farmer went out to her field only to find that her crops had been ravaged and destroyed. Hers was not the only farm affected, and again fear spread among the commoners.

"Silvertongue," said the King lazily. "The Monster is at it again. Go to him once more and convince him to leave our crops alone."

"Just because he survived once doesn't guarantee the Monster won't kill him this time," argued the King's favourite advisor.

"He will do as I command."

"And what will be my reward?" asked Neil.

"Land," said the King. "I will gift you land carved from my best estate if you succeed."

Again Neil tucked his copper cup and his silver knife into his belt and journeyed across the valley. When he reached the Thorn Wood, he pushed eagerly through the brambles, heaving a contented sigh when he stepped into the cool, enchanted clearing.

The Monster was before him, pacing as if he had been waiting. He stopped as Neil stepped forwards.

"You must not be valued if they would send you to your death a second time," remarked the Monster.

Neil ignored that, knowing it was truth due to the rules of the wood. "You have destroyed our crops."

"Have I?" responded the Monster. "The King's own crops and stores have not been touched. Let him make up the difference."

"Will you make a bargain to leave our crops alone?"

"You know the only bargain I will make, little rabbit," said the Monster. "Speak truth and then I will decide your fate."

Neil had been prepared for this. His last story had revealed a truth about himself which had led the Monster to sharing a truth of his own. "A woman with a sad countenance came to a small village. There she met a man who was in want of a wife and they were married and before long they had a child. As the child grew he became difficult and disobedient. He was often sickly, which led to a deep unhappiness, and he was a great burden on his mother. The women of the village felt sorry for the mother whose countenance grew even more sad and they commiserated with her often.

"One day, an evil spirit from the North arrived, preying on the poor mother. It broke her cream pitchers, and destroyed the tinctures that she had made to keep her child healthy. It broke her husband's plow so that he was stuck at home during the day. But mostly it followed the child, as if drawn by his bad behaviour. It would rattle the windows and shake his bed so that he could have no rest and it would spill his dinner on the floor when he tried to eat."

The Monster growled. "Let me guess. The child cried and prayed and promised to behave itself which caused the spirit to leave, and this is a lesson to ungrateful children everywhere."

That was how the story had ended when Neil's mother had whispered it to him after he had endured another punishment from his father, but it was not how Neil's version of the story ended. "No, that would be nonsense," he said. "The child realized that the spirit was trying to communicate so one day when his parents were out he quieted down and sung a lullaby to lure the spirit to speak. When the spirit spoke it revealed that it was the spirit of the child's mother's firstborn son whom she had caused to sicken and die in order to gain sympathy from the women of her village. The mother had then travelled away to find somewhere new to repeat her crimes and it had taken the spirit several years to find her. It had then tried to protect her new child: smashing the tinctures that the mother fed him to keep him sickly and ill, destroying his food to keep him from eating poisons, keeping him awake so that she could not administer anything in his sleep. The spirit had even broken the plow to keep the child's father home more often.

"The child was shocked but he told his father what the spirit had revealed. His father was skeptical but he agreed to investigate and he found that all that the spirit had said was true. Because sometimes those that are meant to love us most are the ones who do us the most harm."

Again the Monster watched Neil intently, his eyes bright with understanding. "What happened to the mother?" he eventually asked.

"Bad fates do not always follow those who deserve them," said Neil. "But I believe that she was eaten by a dragon."

The Monster gave a little huff. "Very well, rabbit, I will leave your crops alone." He turned to leave.

"What is your name?" asked Neil asked, not wanting the Monster to leave yet. Why not rest here and share another story? Why not learn more of the Monster's truth?

"What is yours?" countered the Monster.

Neil opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it quickly. The wood demanded truth.

The Monster watched him silently for a long time. "Take another sprig of quince blossoms," he said finally, "and leave me in peace."

Neil's return was once again heralded through the land, much to the King's displeasure. After reluctantly agreeing to grant Neil the reward he had been promised the King regarded him shrewdly.

"Does the Monster trust you?" he asked.

"Not killing me and trusting me are two very different things," replied Neil.

"Still…" said the King thoughtfully. "It does let you get close."

"What are you suggesting?" asked the King's favourite advisor.

"Silvertongue," said the King sharply. "You will return to the Thorn Wood and slay this beast so that we all may live in safety."

"No blade can pierce the hide of the Monster," Neil protested.

"A blade carved from the enchanted quince that grows in the Thorn Wood can kill anything," replied the King, gesturing to his second advisor. The man came forward carrying a box that held a knife carved from the sprig of quince blossoms that Neil had carried back from the Thorn Wood.

"If you do this," said the King, "then I will release you." Neil looked up sharply. "If you plunge that blade into the heart of the Monster, your servitude to me will be complete."

Neil could scarcely dare believe the King's words. Freedom and a safe place to call home were all that he had ever wanted out of life. He reluctantly reached out and gingerly picked up the quince blade.

"Kill the beast," said the King, "and you'll be free to do as you please."

For the second day in a row Neil made the trek across the valley to the Thorn Wood. The Monster seemed taken aback when Neil walked into the clearing, but recovered himself quickly.

"Are you that eager to be eaten?" he asked dryly.

"Do you want to hear a story?" Neil asked in reply.

"In exchange for what?" said the Monster warily.

"You'll see," said Neil. "Can I speak?"

The Monster gave a hesitant nod.

"Once upon a time a boy was born to two parents who hated each other," Neil started. "Their marriage had been arranged by their families against the wishes of them both. But they did their duty and brought a child into their unhappy union. The wife came to love the boy, in her own way, but the husband was full of hate. He hated everyone and everything but most of all he hated his own son and he often punished the boy just for existing.

"After many years the husband found a way to rid himself of the son he despised and sold him into the servitude of a King that he had angered. The wife did not wish for her son to be sold so she absconded with him in the night. Unfortunately, her husband anticipated this and stopped them, killing his wife for her disobedience.

"The boy was not sorry to leave the house of his father, but the King was also very cruel and he often punished the boy for his words. Just as the boy was resigned to his fate he was sent to treat with a Monster."

Neil looked up and caught the Monster's eyes. "Twice he spoke with the Monster, trading truths. But the King was still not happy. He sent the boy back to kill the Monster with a magic blade. He offered the boy freedom and a home, the two things that the boy had always wanted. But the boy realized that more than those things he wanted a place to belong."

"And how does this story end?" asked the Monster.

"I don't know yet," said Neil. "But the moral is that sometimes we don't know what we're looking for until it shows up in a way we weren't expecting."

The Monster was silent for a time, staring thoughtfully at his old scars. "There once was a boy who was unwanted by everyone," he said haltingly. "The only people that ever wanted him desired to hurt him. No one could hear his cries for help and when he tried to make them listen they said that he was a monster inside. He tried to match his insides to his outsides, carving his pain into his skin for the world to see, but the world turned a blind eye.

"He retreated into the forest, isolating himself. One day he stumbled upon an enchanted wood. The wood was safe and solitary but only a magic creature can live in a magic environment. Knowing that it would change him, he drank deeply from the brook until his outsides finally matched his insides and everybody kept away."

"What was his name?" asked Neil.

"His name was Andrew," replied the Monster.

"Andrew," repeated Neil thoughtfully. "My name is Neil." The wood did not object.

"One day a nearby King needed to distract his subjects and so arranged to have the commoners' herds attacked and their crops destroyed to unite them against a common enemy. But the King was foolish and he sent a kindred soul to reason with the Monster and the Monster realized that his home was lonely." The Monster stepped forwards and gently detached the copper cup from Neil's belt. He knelt and filled it with water from the brook before offering it to Neil. "Stay with me?" he asked.

Neil never returned to the valley Kingdom. Within a week of his departure, the King was found stabbed through the heart with a quince blade. Soon after, evidence was found that he had been the one to kill the herds and destroy the crops. The King's favourite advisor ascended to the throne and he ruled the land with justice and benevolence. He decreed that the Thorn Wood was never to be breached by any of his subjects and so the two Monsters who dwelt within were able to spend their days together in peace, forgotten by all who would bring them harm.