#regarding war and the people who get swept up in the midst of it.

[brutalmasks]

' it's quite funny how the world works. suddenly, killing makes you a villain if you're not some high end fancy pants ordering men to die in the name of honour. a flag is a stupid think to waste your life over, but, it's made glorious and beautiful and honourable. nobody tells you about the rage that comes with it, with the understanding that war is man-made violence and, therefore, it isn't a part of the natural cycle of life and death. '

bunny mask's first thought when the other first began speaking that the other had a very powerful way of commanding her attention; a trait that bunny mask herself found interesting, for this meant whoever possessed it oozed confidence, in her opinion. and although the spirit herself would willingly listen to anyone given the chance, it made her wonder about who this woman beside her was already. or what all she had experienced, as it were, since life events seemed to often have a tendency to shape who you are. bunny mask was clad in her usual attire at the moment; her mask in the shape of a rabbit obscuring the upper part of her face completely, with only wide slits cut out of it near the top to accommodate her glaring white eyes, and the dress she wore a nearly pristine looking white color.

and i say nearly because of the soot that was smeared across her collar. however, she thought she knew what she was getting into whenever she followed the sight of smoke in the distance, so this was of little importance to her: what was important to bunny mask was seeing if anyone needed her help here. it was usually a bad sign whenever a deep, dark smog that screamed ' fire ' had created a wall of it's own in the sky. but it turned out that she was wrong. this place was clearly pillaged and completely torn apart brick from brick, as the places that people used to call home were reduced to piles of wood scorched by embers. a thick layer of ash seemed to have formed in the midst of the landscape, and bunny mask could feel in her gut that something terrible had happened here.

perhaps as part of a war, as mya highlighted. the spirit could feel her heart drop while the other described her perspective on the sometimes militaristic and bleak nature of humanity. no, was it her experience? bunny mask thought that the way she phrased her words made this all sound very personal. a frown tugged at her lips as she bent down to touch the ash, letting it run through her fingers. mya was right — this was nothing to be proud of. she looked up at the other from the side, then, and spoke, ❝ you are right. i sincerely hope you were not here to witness what had happened here, for that would be a horror that you would likely never forget. but the men who do things like this, who ordered their own to risk their lives to ruin other's; they simply refuse to think they are the villains of anyone's story because they believe they are doing it for a noble purpose. though they are certainly not. ❞

bunny mask stood up and took a deep breath as she surveyed the land before her. there looked to be no survivors here, so the people here were either all killed, or maybe some had escaped. the latter might've been wishful thinking but bunny mask wanted to have some hope that this place was not turned completely into a mass grave, ❝ was that what this conflict was born from? the excessive pride of a nation, who are of the mind that they're righteous and good, but commit barbaric acts such as this one? ❞ she had to tell herself to take a deep breath now or she would likely lose herself to anger. and that would not be a pretty sight, for neither her, nor the other who stood just an arm's length away from her. in and out. bunny mask could feel the claws of her right hand dig into her palm as she took a moment to inhale, then exhale, but she didn't care.

everything about this was wrong. bunny mask let her eyes become half-lidded with the sense of sorrow that had come over her suddenly, like a tidal wave. it was just as she feared. mya had experienced this for herself, ❝ it is not natural. that, i must agree with. i am of the belief that we are fated to leave this world at a specific time and the lives of the humans that died in this town were stolen. they still had much to experience, to love. and from what i am hearing, you were forced to partake in the wrongful robbing of people's lives yourself, were you not? through war. an organized form of slaughter, glamorized to appear necessary by the masses, where there is no true victor. where everyone loses something and you are left feeling full of rage because of what you were coerced to do. ❞

the chill running through bunny mask's bones only intensified when she saw it on the ground. a doll, abandoned by it's owner, within the ash. bunny mask's voice became low, ❝ i am sorry. i am... so sorry. ❞

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Part 17

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

A/N: It is here! So sorry for the late update lovelies! I’ve been having really bad writers block lately and my job keeps switching my hours up so now my sleep schedule is all fucked up. And after writing this part I want to go stargazing so bad but the light pollution kind of sucks where I live. 🥲 Also this is my first time writing a steamy scene so I’m sorry if it’s awkward. Feedback is much appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 😊

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appears at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, angst, some foreplay and making out

You had still been wrapped in Zemo’s arms, the two of you indulging in each other’s presence in a silence, which combined with the faint beating of his heart, you only found to be comforting. The meteors still swept by the earth’s atmosphere above you in flashes that lit up the sky, leaving behind trails of white that resembled the strokes of a brush, as if your mother Asteria had painted the celestial bodies using diamonds onto a canvas that was the night sky. You could only make out the few stars and constellations that were scarcely scattered across the vastness above you, caused by the light pollution that unfortunately managed to mantle the wonders and beauty that settled just beyond, separating humanity from the marvels of the universe. The stars flickered like the diminishing of the flame of a candle, a farewell to the billions of years lived by the remnants of those enormous spheres of hot plasma, thus leaving behind the birth of other stars to fulfill their legacy. However, there was a certain star that did not flicker like the ones around it, a certain spectacle distant in time and space that still managed to burn bright despite the innumerable amount of light-years that separated Earth from it. The remaining light of your planet Olympus. You stared at that particular star, your brows knit together and your face etched with this certain melancholy that one could not explain. How could one thing be so near, within the reach of your fingertips, and yet be entirely outside the capacity of reach.

“Draga.” You heard Zemo softly speak, his chest slightly wavering beneath your cheek from his words.

“Hm?”

“Something troubles you.”

“What makes you say that?” You stared off, your eyes still fixated to the fading existence of your world.

“Your eyes draga.” Zemo looked down at you, his eyes scanning over the troubled creases that masked your features. “I have seen this shadow in your eyes that has seemed to occupy them as of recently. What troubles you?”

“…………You see that star there, right between those two constellations?” You pointed above you.

“Mhm.” Zemo nodded as he followed the line of your finger, his eyes now focused on the same exact star yours have not yet left.

“That’s my planet………Olympus.”

“You’re welcome to tell me about it if you’d like.”

“Well, when I was little, I used to live with my mother in this quaint cottage by the sea, similar to the one I live in now with my daughter. She used to bring me out most nights for stargazing. She had built this outdoor platform with bedding and blankets and we would have a small fire going to keep us warm as we watched the stars and constellations while she told me different tales and epic poetries. As silly as it sounds, she would make shooting stars appear in the sky for me knowing how much I loved them. Gods, I wish you could’ve seen my home back in its days, back when everything still remained. Everything was so…..beautiful, and the skies, gods the skies, you could see the different planets and galaxies as if they were only miles away. To this day, I have yet to see anything in my travels that compares.”

“I would have loved to seen it Schatzi. Your mother sounded like a wonderful person.”

“She was the kindest soul I knew.” You turned your body so that you could look up at him, resting your chin on your hand.

“You miss her.”

“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my family and planet.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to them Schatzi. I wish you never went through what you did.”

“If only I could bring them back. I’d do anything to be able to just see them again.”

Zemo was silent, believing that no amount of words could have provided you comfort, no matter how deep the meaning or how significant. He could not imagine what you went through. He had lost his country and his family, and you had lost your family as well, but you lost your world, your entire race, leaving you to be the last remaining entity of your people, the last Olympian and the last Chthonian. Words could not bring your family back, just as they could not with his. So he only did what he was able, making a silent unspoken promise within the abyss of his damaged heart to be there for you as he held you closer to him and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

A sudden feeling of guilt crawled up your spine like a venomous scorpion ready to sink its stinger in your skin with means to cause nothing but pain and suffering. You felt guilty for being here, lying next to Zemo wrapped in his arms like a pair of star-crossed lovers from the pages of a novel. A part of you felt selfish for what you did, undeserving of the affection that was bestowed upon you from a man who had suffered enough from the loss of his family. How much longer did you think you could give in to your mindless emotions without a single thought of the consequences it might bring about. Did you really think you could go on as if nothing is happening? As if you can conceal your true form from him forever. No. You could not. You did not have the heart to keep such knowledge from him. If you wanted to pursue what you had with him, you would have to tell him the truth when the time came.

“We should probably get back before Sam and Bucky notice.” You mumbled, blinking back the tears, your heart aching to go back to the way things used to be, wishing you could leave all of this and just be able to go back home. You didn’t belong here on earth, an immortal amongst mortals. At least on Olympus, if your titaness form had been revealed, many would not have bat an eye. They had already seen the likes of Titans before and the locals had become accustomed to you. But here on earth, you were nothing but a stranger, a drifter.

The two of you walked back to his place in silence, the only sounds being the whistling of the wind, the chirping of crickets, the voices of the few pedestrians and the humming of the cars that drove by. Your hands brushed against each other, craving to intertwine your fingers with his as you walked down the stone paved streets lit by the lamps that lined it, the two of you still withdrawn despite what occurred between you both. You felt it would have been silly, holding his hand like a couple of teenagers, though a century ago, you wouldn’t have gave it a second thought.

You arrived at his place, standing at the bottom of the steps in front of the double doors with Zemo opposite you, illuminated by the street lamp that stood just behind. Feelings of conflict washed over you, drowning you in waves of despair. As much as you wanted to be with him, a small part in the back of your mind kept telling you that it was wrong. Neither of you wanted to go through those doors just yet, wishing you could have spent the night under the stars. But life seems to have a way of working against your favor. The Wakandans would be here to collect him possibly tomorrow, and you would have to bid him farewell, separated from each other for what could be forever. As much as you did not look forward to that moment in having to turn him in and never see him again, you wouldn’t stop the Wakandans from what they were promised. And though you hadn’t said a word, Zemo had already knew what your decisions were regarding it, and he could not blame you for it. You were a woman of justice and you followed a code, and he respected that.

“Zemo.” A frown appeared on your face.

“Please,” Zemo whispered to you as he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Call me Helmut.”

You looked at Zemo once more, a look of longing hidden behind your eyes as you unconsciously swiped your tongue across your mouth, watching how his eyes followed the movement before lingering on the wetness of your lips that resembled the petals of a rose after the pouring of cold rain in the midst of spring. Oh how he wished to be the drops of rain that were gifted the pleasure of grazing upon the velvety petals that belonged to such beauty of a flower, a symbol of union between the two domains in which the heavens came down to declare its love for the earth. A pulling sensation filled within your core, drawing yourself to Zemo as if he were the sweet berries of deadly nightshade that have lured many unfortunate souls. Banishing the thoughts of doubt that clouded your mind, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Zemo was initially shocked by your bold gesture and stiffened from the way your mouth moved against his, surprised you would pull something like this when just a wall away Sam and Bucky were awaiting your arrival, before loosing himself into your embrace.

Your fingers clenched the collar of his sweater and your fingers grazed across the exposed skin of his neck while his hands went to your waist in a desperate attempt, fumbling to grab at anything and bunching up the bottom fabric of your sweater as he pulled you against him. The tips of his fingers brushed against the skin of your waist that was exposed below the hem of your sweater, leaving behind goosebumps in its trail. You smiled into the kiss from the way he completely melted under your touch, a part of you amused from the affect you held over him as you managed to elicit a moan from deep within his throat. Zemo’s brows were furrowed in the passionate moment, something you have noticed when you first kissed him, a small crease in the muscles of his face that showed just how lost he was when encased in this moment with you, and it absolutely melted you. He was addicted from the warm numbness, the ecstasy he felt from kissing you. Your lips were like heroin to him, leaving him yearning for more, and it didn’t ameliorate the fact that his years spent in a German prison had left him somewhat inexperienced and filled with a chasmic longing for touch and intimacy from the lack thereof. Deep within him, masked by his ideas and objectives, Zemo wanted to be able to love someone again, a chance at a new life and a family, and perhaps, he saw that possibility with you. But, behind the passion of the kiss you shared with him, there was something else, a poison that laced your lips with feelings of despair and forbidding that consumed you as if you had tasted those sweet berries of nightshade, slowly loosing yourself to its malice. His lips which were at first warm to the touch, now felt cold like ice and sent shivers of dread through your veins, as if this would be the last kiss you shared with him.

You pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, your teeth softly grazing against his bottom lip as you did so. Both of you were left breathless as you rested your foreheads against each other, panting as your breaths fanned each other’s face as if you had just been trapped in the depths of the ocean before breaking through the surface to allow oxygen to fill your lungs.

“If you keep doing that Draga.” Zemo rasped between breaths, “I won’t be able to compose myself.”

“Good. Maybe I don’t want you too.” You smirked before placing a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “But I really should go back inside, and you should do the same. Just make sure you go unnoticed.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders, his cologne that lingered on his fur collar leaving your senses with discontent as you returned his coat to him before going over to the doors, stopping to turn back to him with a smile before stepping inside and closing the door behind you. Gods, what the hell did you do that for???? You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you wanted to slap yourself for pulling a move like that.

“Gods I’m stupid.” You muttered to yourself.

“Hey.” Bucky smiled once he spotted you, his voice soft as if he were afraid you would shatter at any moment from the discussion that took place earlier. “How was your walk?”

“It was nice, relaxing. I went to the park to stargaze.”

“That’s good. As long as you feel better.”

“I do, actually. Thanks Bucky.”

“You look flushed. You okay?” Sam noted as he stepped over to you.

“Huh?” You stopped short. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just had to kind of uh power walk back here so you guys wouldn’t get worried. But I’m fine, yeah. Anyways, I’m going to hit the sack since I’m feeling a bit tired. Goodnight you guys.” You waved them off before going to your assigned room, making Sam and Bucky give each other questioning looks before they both shrugged it off.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a breath of relief that they had not caught on to anything and praying that Zemo had managed to sneak in. You had just gotten off the phone with Maze and your daughter, catching up on their activities after cleaning yourself up and changing into your nightgown. You had pulled up a chair next to the window that was in your room, your feet tucked underneath you and a warm cup of rose and blackberry tea in your hands. Your robe hung loosely off your shoulders as your index finger twirled above the small silver spoon that swirled in your cup, mists of violet wrapping around the handle of the spoon as you used your powers to stir the contents of the tea. You stared out the window onto the old streets of Latvia before glancing down at the teacup that was nestled in your hands, the glow of your eyes reflected off the window pane along with the tiny stars that swirled through the small globe of your necklace your mother gave you. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the moments that passed and the ones that have yet to come.

There was a knock on your door, interrupting you from the thoughts that had resided in your mind. “Come in.” You spoke as you looked through the reflection of the window and saw a figure step in. “Zemo?” You stopped using your powers, the clinking of the spoon scraping against the sides of the porcelain cup coming to a stop. “You know, you gotta stop sneaking into my room.” You teased before frowning, seeing the expression that sat on his face. “What’s wrong?” You got up from the chair, setting your cup down on the table before walking over to him.

“The Wakandans will…….be here for me tomorrow.” His eyes were lowered to the floor, the browns of his irises which reminded you of the dunes of the Sahara desert were whirling in thought, resembling the dunes caught in the midst of the fury of a sandstorm, as if searching for an answer to his troubles.

“Ze-Helmut, I………” You sighed, your tongue and mind lacking the ability to compose any words that might have provided some solace. “I’m sorry………..I don’t know what to say.”

“Y/n, schatzi” Zemo grabbed your hand, tracing his thumb over the bumps of your knuckles. “You don’t have to say a word. My actions………must be accounted for.”

You were silent, your brows knit together and your lips sealed as if your voice was ripped from your throat. Your heart wanted to tear itself from your chest, begging to be released from its cage so that it could be free to lament, so that it may be able to express the words that held it captive. But your tongue was tied, held back between the prison that was your teeth as you clenched your jaw. Zemo’s hand still held yours, stroking the soft skin on the back of your hand which were a contrast to the small rough patches on your palm, before you heard him speak again. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, lips parted in surprise that he would even ask such a question when you were honestly willing to kiss him any time of the day. The Zemo you had come to know was far different than the one you had heard about, his cold demeanor seemed to completely fade when he was around you, like a fog that dissipated with the coming of daylight. A part of you pondered whether this was how he used to be, before the events that happened. Though he hadn’t had a chance to share such affection with anyone and lost practice, you still found him to be great kisser and it always managed to leave you breathless. “Yes, please.” You whispered, your voice barely audible before you felt his lips brush against yours. What was sweet at first became more feverish and filled with hunger as an unfamiliar spirit seemed to possess your body, darkening the amethysts and golds of your eyes that resembled the galaxies, into the blackness of the abyss that swallowed the outer edges of space where not even the slightest bit of light could reach, almost as if you were sinking your claws into your prey.

A heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, filling your body with an electrifying warmth as his mouth moved against yours more confidently this time, catching you utterly by surprise and leaving your knees weak, a feeling similar to the stillness in the air a mere second before lightning strikes the ground beneath your feet. His hands slipped down to grab the flesh of your waist, dehydrated, and filled with an intense thirst that could only be quenched by your body that was the ocean, your skin separated by the silk fabric of your nightgown. Your hands went up to grip his shoulders as a gasp escaped your lips upon feeling him move down to your jaw and neck. Gods, since when was the last time you were touched like that?

“Helmut.” You rasped, struggling to hold back a moan as his lips sucked on the skin where your collarbone met your neck, making you lean your head back to allow him better access. Your robe had fell to the floor, leaving your arms completely bare while Zemo’s hands caressed the skin that lined them before resting on the dorsal part of your upper arms, the combination of the frigid air and his fingertips that felt like the touch of fire sending shivers through your body. “What if they hear?”

“Let them.”

“No……….I’m…….serious.”

“Well if you’re that worried Draga.” Zemo stopped to look at you. “The walls are thick enough.”

Gods that completely sent you over the edge. It felt as if you were on a high, your mind was not even within this dimension as Zemo met your lips again. You had to throw your arms around his neck to keep yourself from collapsing as the two of you shifted in the room, Zemo guiding your body before the back of your knees came in contact with the side of your bed. You let yourself fall back into the soft mattress, bringing Zemo down with you. You both were a mess, your hair disarray, the thin straps of your nightgown fallen past your shoulders had almost left your breasts exposed, and the skirt of your nightgown had ridden up to your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Zemo squeezed at the soft flesh of your thigh before attacking your neck again. He didn’t know how to describe it but you tasted absolutely divine. Perhaps being a goddess made you taste of ambrosia; the golden, honey-flavored fruit that grew on the trees of Olympus. You were in absolute bliss and thanked the gods he wouldn’t be able to leave a mark, at least you hoped not.

“Helmut.” You moaned, your nails digging into his biceps as his warm lips made a trail down your collarbone and lower to where the lace trim of your nightgown met just above the curve of your breasts, lingering on the space between, filling your mind with thoughts of a certain region you desired those lips to be. “Fuck.” You hissed from the contact, your hand moving its way to his head as you ran your fingers through his soft hair, your nails raking across the back of his scalp as the heat between your thighs only grew. You unconsciously pressed your heel to the lower part of his back, beckoning him closer to that heat between your thighs as you bucked your hips up. Zemo growled at the movement, slightly nipping at the skin where your breast had started to form, causing you to gasp and your eyes to fly open from the sensation.

“Apologies draga.” You heard him mutter before tenderly kissing the spot where his teeth had been.

Seeing Zemo in a close proximity above you in such a position had you dazed, wanting him to take you right then and there and not caring if the others heard you or not. And as your eyes wandered lazily over the sight of him, they widened in horror once they glimpsed at the image of your hands. Your nails became sharp, claw-like, and that deathly color had returned once again, slowly making its way up your arm like the tendrils of a shadow belonging to a demonic spirit.

“Helmut.” You whispered, your voice becoming panicked as you loosened your grip on his arms, being careful not to pierce his skin. “Helmut wait.”

Zemo stopped, pushing himself up to meet your eyes as his concern grew from seeing the frightened look that filled them. “Schatzi, what’s wrong?” He brought his hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair. “If you’re uncomfortable let me know.”

“No, gods no. If anything I don’t want you to stop.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath. “It’s just that………….”

“What is it schatzi?” His voice was soft as his fingers caressed your cheek, afraid that he might have offended you in some way, afraid that he might have been too forward.

“I’m sorry Helmut. I want to, I really do, but not like this.” You shook your head as you got up, shifting over to where the dark shadows of the room fell on the bed to hide your arms, afraid to meet his eyes as if you had made a fool of yourself. “Not like this.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me y/n.” Zemo smiled at you. “If you’re not ready, than I’m not ready.”

“Thank you Helmut.” You smiled back before giving him a delicate kiss. “I’d………uh like to think some things through.” You prayed that he didn’t see your hands, hoping that the darkness of the room managed to disguise it.

“Of course draga.” Zemo placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before leaving your room, stopping at the door to give you a comforting smile as he carefully shut it behind him.

Your eyes still lingered on the door, waiting to make sure he didn’t come back before turning on the bedside lamp and staring down at your hands. You had managed to stop the color from spreading up your arm, yet it strangely still remained, stopping halfway up your forearm. This wasn’t good.

“What the hell?” You scrunched your nose, trying to use your powers once again to remove it but to no avail. Fear coursed through your veins as you attempted to remove the color, spell after spell, hoping those vine like tendrils would crawl back down your hands and disappear. You cursed under your breath as each attempt proved to be as futile as the one before. What the hell was going on? Why were your spells not working? It vanished before from your magic, why wasn’t it doing so now? You were struck with a sudden realization that perhaps this change would become permanent, that maybe suppressing your true form for all those years had caused it to spiral out of control and in turn try to overpower you as if it had a mind of its own. You growled through gritted teeth, the furniture around you shaking as your fists were clenched in frustration, the violet mists of your powers encompassing your hands and sparking with small bolts that corresponded with the vexation that overwhelmed you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, the mist around your hands disappearing and the shaking of the furniture coming to a stop. You had to work something out. You were left no choice but to keep your hands covered from now on until you found a solution. If any of them questioned it, you had to have a damn good lie. Getting up from the bed, you walked over to the double doors that led to the small balcony and opened them, your hands gripping the cold iron rail as you stared out at the view of the Latvian streets and buildings before you. Oh how you wished your sister Athena were here. She knew everything.

“Oh Athena.” You stifled a sob as you stared up at the stars, focusing on the light of your planet as if she could have heard you, a tear cascading down your cheek and dropping to the streets below. “Gods I wish you were here. I really need your help.”

Despite your pleas, you knew she wasn’t there, her existence only an artifact of the past. You were praying to nothing but a memory. It was extremely urgent that you got information on this matter of your form and the words of the prophecy that still threatened and echoed within the depths of your mind. And since you couldn’t obtain such knowledge from another Olympian, you would have to gather it from the old texts. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you waited, searching, until a small white moth came into view, fluttering in your direction. You held out your finger, letting the tiny creature come to rest upon it.

“Hello little one.” You smiled at the moth as you gently stroked it in greeting, bringing it closer to your face so that you could speak to it in your language. “Please send word to my familiar and tell him to gather as much information he can on Titans and the prophecy. And tell him to come find me when he is done. Thank you.” The moth looked at you with understanding behind his tiny black eyes, it’s antennaes twitching before fluttering away into the moon. You sighed, watching it disappear into the night before giving your distant planet one last glance before shutting the doors and going back over to the bed. You laid down under the covers, your hands rested on your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, dreading the day to come. How could you face Zemo? And however were you going to keep your hands a secret? Surely the three are bound to find out sooner or later? You just prayed that the message you sent would be returned in a short time. You needed to fix this before it would be considered too late. And the sooner you found Karli the better. Your mind was racing with thoughts, but you closed your eyes, desperate to get some rest and forcing those thoughts away. Gods help you from this moment on.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thehornyles @awhorewithissues @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic @hargreevesd @death-is-beautiful @ilovespideyyy @peakyrogers

[artificialqueens]

In Sickness and In Health Ch7 - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - It’s been a looong day without you my friend…

Oops. I’m sorry. I am a busy busy bee and I love you all!!

Last time: Under Yvie’s control, Alaska forced Sharon to leave without her. She starts an ill-advised plot to feed her a taste of her own medicine.

This time: That won’t happen (CEO of changing ur mind xo)

“I need your help, urgently. I cannot do this alone.”

Three pairs of eyes. One narrowed slightly, almost squinting, silver-blue and filled with desperation. The other two curious, eyebrows furrowed, calm and yet intrigued.

“What an odd greeting. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“No one has. But I need you, both of you. Please.”

A pause. Two pairs of eyes regarded the first, each watching for something different. Nothing but sincerity lay within them, the pain and honesty laced within her voice.

“I had heard you were unwell, is it true? You seem to be in good health now.”

“It’s true. I’m well again, at a terrible price. I have lost something dear to me, and I have every intention of getting it back, but I can’t do it alone. I have a feeling I’m not the only one to have suffered this fate.”

Sharon sat rigidly straight as she spoke with the other two women, her hands folded in her lap to keep them from shaking. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been taught not to express emotional extremes to anyone outside of the palace, just in case they should turn against her. Even some of the palace staff should be spared from such moods, she was told, in case they might gossip. Only Miss Michaels knew the true extent of her temper. The thought of bearing her heart in front of two different kingdoms - it was scandalous. Her father would’ve thrown a fit, ironically, if he could see her behaviour.

There was a certain level of respect that the other women needed, Sharon knew that. Their three kingdoms were not currently the greatest of allies, but Sharon was working on it and planned to even more once she had been crowned. An allyship would be greatly beneficial to all three of them, and Sharon saw no harm in starting early, even if she was still just a princess whilst they were queens. Never mind that it was highly unorthodox for Sharon to even ask two queens for a personal favour.

Queen Brooke was very charitable and a pleasure to talk to at a ball, but in the setting of a meeting between three royals in her own parlour, she was a little intimidating. Her blonde hair was swept into a neat bun, silver tiara resting atop, and her cold grey eyes stared impassively forwards. In front of her, an ornate teacup sat on a dish, undrunk. 

Queen Scarlet was a totally different story. Her coronation had been more recent than Brooke’s, and whether formal or informal, she was a calamity of a person. Sharon’s father had warned her that partnering with Scarlet’s kingdom was a no-go, given that they were ruled by a young woman who had once been incarcerated and treated for hysterical madness, but Sharon had always quite liked the strange queen. Having recovered from her insanity, she was a fairly successful and friendly ruler.

“Your letter was distressing. I thought perhaps our kingdoms were on the brink of war, and we needed to negotiate.” Brooke’s voice was level, measured. Sharon decided she would be a fantastic person to emulate once she was a leader.

“No, not at all. I’m here about something much more serious. Her name is Yvie.”

At once, the atmosphere shifted. Previously in control, Brooke’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly and she drew in a sharp intake of breath. Next to her, once carefree and kindly concerned, Scarlet looked as though she had seen a ghost.

Thank fuck, Sharon thought to herself. A reaction. If any of her research and guesswork had been incorrect, she might as well have kissed goodbye to her kingdom, her alliances, her family and her life.

“What… What about her?” Scarlet winced, the terror in her voice painfully evident. It was clear that she didn’t want to hear that name, or she hadn’t for a long time. Something about it arose memories that she had most likely tried to forget.

“She cured my sickness. She brought me back from the brink of death so that I can sit here before you now as healthy as I ever was. Not a single physician could cure me, but she did in an instant.”

Brooke’s eyes were glassy. “At a price.” The words left her lips without a thought, drawn out as though in a trance, or by force. She swallowed roughly and hardened her gaze.

“What price?”

Sharon closed her eyes, her mind filling with hazy memories. A sweet common girl with her hand stuck firmly in the air, stood up in front of everybody. Alaska, with her joyful laugh and fighting spirit. The feeling of safety as she slept in her lap, her arms, by her side, comforted with the knowledge that if she died, she would have died alongside somebody who really cared.

“The price of a loved one.” Sharon equalled Brooke’s stare, confident now that she was armed with facts that would ensure Brooke’s cooperation or the ruin of her kingdom. “I believe you wanted prosperity for your kingdom in the midst of a crisis. Your commerce and trade had dwindled to almost nothing. Your people were dying, it was necessary. You needed Yvie’s help and the price was Vanessa.”

There was no stopping her now. “Vanessa, a commoner who worked as a lady-in-waiting for you whilst you were a princess, and continued when you became queen. The two of you were in love and so she accompanied you on what appeared to be a perilous journey. Yvie demanded her as a commodity and you gave her up.”

Perhaps her attack was a little harsh, but Sharon had no time to worry about that. Brooke’s face was flushed crimson, though with anger or shame, she couldn’t be sure. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white, and it seemed the more stoic queen was losing her propriety with every word that came out of Sharon’s mouth.

“How do you- How do you know about that?” She demanded. “I never told a soul.”

Scarlet was watching the exchange with an expression of sheer melancholy, saying nothing. Sharon knew her turn would come, but she needed to focus her attention on Brooke, and it seemed that Scarlet was content to listen and say nothing for the time being.

“Gossip, rumours, and a little bit of research assistance from a kindly witch. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is, I can help you or hurt you. You can have your lover back, or have the reputation of your kingdom shattered. It seems like an easy choice.”

In hindsight, delivering such an outright threat to a powerful Queen when Sharon herself was still only a princess… was a little risky. But there was no time to back out, and judging by the way Brooke’s nostrils had flared, her face pinched in abject fury, the damage had already been done.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Princess, but I-”

Sharon prepared herself to be sentenced to execution, or to be exiled from her land, or to have a cup of hot tea thrown at her, but instead, Brooke was cut off by Scarlet, who placed a gentle hand on her leg and looked forlorn.

“Yvie… She didn’t want them to take me away. She wanted to help me herself.” Her gaze dropped into her lap. “I went crazy. It’s not fake, it’s not rumours. I was insane. The facility helped me. But Yvie…” Scarlet blinked, her eyes filling with tears. “She was so angry that I went with them. I wasn’t in control, but she felt so betrayed by it… Is this what she’s been doing? Taking people’s loved ones?”

The story started clicking into place, and Sharon’s heart sank. She had questioned Max within an inch of her life about everything relating to Yvie, naturally, but she hadn’t made the connection that Yvie’s hard bargains were inspired by her perceived betrayal.

“Yvie has been doing these kind of deals for years, that always come at a price. My sickness was my parents’ price. But it seems people are the currency now, since she lost you, Scarlet. We need to go to her, get them back, and… Scarlet, maybe you and Yvie can work something out.” She paused. “My family don’t know I’m here. They think I’m still on the journey to the witch who can heal me, or perhaps still with her being treated. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

Brooke frowned, her eyebrow furrowing. “Your kingdom?”

“It’s not mine yet.” She shrugged. “I don’t even want to rule it without Alaska there. I don’t think I can.”

A silence settled over them. There was nothing else to be said - three noblewomen having shared their sorrows in the unlikeliest of situations. After a moment, Sharon picked up her teacup and held it before her, offering a solemn, unspoken toast. Brooke and Scarlet joined her.

“Please.”

-

Alaska folded her arms and flopped back down onto the ground, where Vanessa lay beside her. They had schemed a million times by now, it seemed, and nothing would work.

“You were right. It’s not like we can trick her into drinking her own truth serum that she made us brew! She’s not that stupid.”

Vanessa puffed her cheeks out. “She’s fuckin’ smart, it’s the worst. I’m startin’ to think I’m never gettin’ outta here, and maybe I shoulda figured that out a while ago.”

Alaska shook her head. “Yeah. This might be it, for us. But at least we have each other, right?”

“Sure. You’re all I got, now.” She hummed. “Your princess seemed pretty set on coming back here, though. Must be nice.”

A grimace made its way onto Alaska’s face; it was the only thing that could hold her tears back. “I hope. I hope she’s fighting for us.”

In the beginning of her time with Yvie, Sharon had been all she’d thought about to get through the day. Those few minutes that she had been able to see her in full health and beauty again, when she had seen a flicker of the righteous anger of a queen instead of the feeble protestations of a princess. Even dwelling on the way her eyes had filled with furious tears and heartbreak was better than nothing at all, as something of a comfort to remind Alaska that once, she had known her.

Still, the memories got more painful as time went on, and she soon decided that perhaps it was best to not think about her. As much as she wished Sharon was out fighting for her, amassing an army to storm Yvie for her return or maybe bargaining and charming her way back, she doubted it. Princesses had to adhere to strict rules.

She missed Willam, and Courtney. It had been forever since she’d thought about them, and she wondered if they were anxiously waiting for her to come home. What she wouldn’t give to see their faces again.

“Let’s just get back to work.” Alaska sighed, feeling miserable. “If we haven’t cleaned up Yvie’s mess by the time she comes back, we’re done for.”

Vanessa nodded. “Alright, Blondie, let’s go. We got fuckin’… books to shelve, or whatever. I didn’t listen to what she asked.”

Reluctantly, Alaska pulled herself up and made her way into the centre of the cottage. The room was cluttered and messy from Yvie’s musings, and she had ventured out into the surrounding forest a short while ago, leaving her two servants to clean everything up. At least it was a distraction from the boredom, Alaska thought, even as the spilled potion she wiped up with a rag started to burn her hand. It was better than nothing.

Yvie returned with a bag slung over her shoulder and an irritated expression, meaning that no doubt, she would take out her anger on Vanessa and Alaska.

“That’s the last time I listen to Raven, stupid fucking creature.” She hissed, throwing her bag down upon the newly-swept floor. “And now this isn’t even done! Do I have to do everything myself, you imbeciles?”

Alaska bowed her head. “We’re working on it.”

“I’ve a half mind to-”

Yvie trailed off abruptly, freezing in place. Vanessa stared at Alaska in confusion, the both of them watching Yvie to see if there was a reason for her unusual behaviour.

“The wards.” Her voice came out hardly a whisper above silence. “She wouldn’t dare…”

She turned suddenly. “The two of you, out. Now.”

As before, they were all but shoved back into the small room they shared. Vanessa scrambled towards her small pile of belongings and produced two strange-looking opalescent lenses. She handed one to Alaska and pressed it against the wall.

“I took these fuckin’ forever ago because I thought they looked pretty, but you can see through shit with ‘em. I wanna know why she’s so fuckin’ rattled.”

Alaska did the same, shuffling as close as she could to look through the wall. The lens focused just in time, as Yvie graciously opened the front door and offered a chilling smile.

“Sister.”

Yvie laughed. “Ha! You have a lot of nerve to walk down my path, let alone to address me as your sister. Most inferior witches tend to avoid associating themselves with superior witches, do they not?”

Max stood, tall and unwavering in the doorway, her short silver hair moving in the wind. “Perhaps they do, sister. You know I care little for which of us is better or worse. But I have been incited to care about which of us is good or bad.”

“A truly wonderful philosophical concept. I’d invite you in to debate it over some tea, but I don’t trust myself not to poison yours with belladonna.” Yvie’s voice was dripping with sickly sweet venom. Alaska shuddered at the sound of it. “Why do you dare to come to my door?”

Max remained still. “See for yourself.”

Almost at the exact same time, Alaska and Vanessa sprung backwards from the wall and darted towards the door, seemingly sensing the same thing. Anticipation and fear wrestled angrily in the pit of Alaska’s stomach, but she had to see if her hunch was right. The two all but fell over each other as they stumbled into the centre of the cottage once again, gazing open-mouthed out of the front door.

The sight that met them could’ve been an illustration from the beautiful book Sharon had read to Alaska in the carriage. A few feet behind Max, two proud stallions pawed the ground, their riders equally as dignified and powerful. Alaska didn’t recognise one of them, a pale blonde wearing regal purple riding gear, but the other was a face she could never forget, even in the deepest of nightmares.

Sharon’s face was resolute, her body language firm and unmoving. Like the other rider, she wore jodhpurs and a shirt, an outfit unbefitting for a queen or a princess but perfectly suited to a courageous storybook heroine. The other woman held Sharon’s hand and lifted their arms into the air, at the same time as Vanessa and Alaska clung to each other in disbelief.

“Oh my god. That’s my Brooke.”

Alaska couldn’t muster speech, but she didn’t need to. Behind the two, cavalry reinforcements waited for their command, leaving Yvie well and truly outnumbered.

“Let them go.” Sharon climbed off her horse, Brooke doing the same. As they approached the door, where Yvie looked dumbfounded and furious, she shot Alaska a brief, reassuring gaze. “That’s an order.”

Yvie kept her cool in spite of the army facing her. “Oh dear… someone seems to have forgotten that we made a deal.”

Brooke smiled. “Do you have it in writing? What happens if we take them?”

“This.”

Yvie snapped her fingers, and in an instant, she and Vanessa were hoisted into the air, suspended by thorny vines. Alaska could feel that one of them had drawn blood, but regardless she strained and struggled against the bonds. They had to win this. Freedom was so close. 

“We thought you might do something like that.” Sharon crossed her arms. “Your Majesty?”

Brooke stepped closer. “Another deal, then. Make a new deal with us to overwrite these previous ones. We have something you won’t wanna miss out on, and your sister here as a witness in case you try to fuck us over. It’s that, or we take them by force and destroy our offer to you.”

Yvie snorted. “Sure. A failure of a Queen and what, some pathetic little Princess have something I would want? I have power, the more you’re indebted to me, the better. Why should I agree to this? Why shouldn’t I just…”

She snapped her fingers again. The vines tightened, smaller ones creeping their way around to Alaska and Vanessa’s throats. They choked and coughed, the vines only squeezing more as they tried to resist. Tears came to Alaska’s eyes, the pain and fear overwhelming her. Whatever this power play was, it needed to work.

Sharon’s glare was murderous, but her jaw was firm and resolute. “Fine.” She unsheathed the dagger hanging from her belt, which Alaska immediately recognised from their visit to the palace from what felt like years ago. “I was loaned this dagger by another kingdom. We could wage another several wars by me desecrating this blade with the blood of another royal, thus pitting kingdom against kingdom against kingdom, which surely means a lot of deals made in your favour…”

With a tiny nod, both Sharon and Brooke stepped aside at the same time, allowing a third woman to step forward between them. Her head was held high, regal, but her pretty face was marked with disgust.

“But that also means killing Queen Scarlet here. I’m sure you won’t have an issue with that if you get so much power from it, right?”

She levelled the dagger at Scarlet’s throat, just below her chin. All three royals stood defiant, while Yvie’s face went slack. Without warning, the vines receded and disappeared, and Alaska and Vanessa hit the ground with a thud. It hurt, and Alaska’s hands went straight to her neck as she tried to catch her breath, but her gaze remained firmly on the spectacle in front of her. It was unparalleled - Yvie, silent, dumbfounded.

“Sc… Scarlet?”

She nodded, and Sharon lowered the blade, sheathing it. “It’s me. But I’m not sure you’re you. I don’t remember the Yvie I knew being this cruel.”

Yvie swallowed thickly. “They took you away. I could’ve fixed you but they took you away and you let them!”

“I needed to go!” Scarlet grabbed Yvie’s shoulders, steadying her. “But I’m back, and I’m fine, and I’m successful. You don’t have to do this. The old you would never do this.”

“She wouldn’t?”

“She wouldn’t. Don’t forget how well we knew each other, Yves.”

“I couldn’t forget. You’re unforgettable.”

“Let them go.” Scarlet’s voice was gentle, but commanding. “You have to let them go.”

Yvie whirled around, her eyes landing on where Alaska and Vanessa were crumpled on the ground, recovering. They still clung to one another, and her eyes seemed to widen at their desperation, as though she had no idea that she had caused it.

“How can I? Give them over, face trial, go to the dungeons, lose everything?” She was growing frantic.

Scarlet held out her hand. “No trial. No dungeons. I’m taking you home. Let them go.”

There was an ever-so-slight inclination of Yvie’s head, but that was enough. Both girls got to their feet without wasting a second, and whilst Alaska was sure Vanessa had run straight into Brooke’s arms, she didn’t bother looking to check. Every fibre of her being was pulling her towards Sharon, some kind of invisible magnetic connection forcing them together. She gave in to the impulse, almost throwing herself into her lover’s waiting arms.

“I’m so sorry it took so long I’m so glad you’re safe,” Sharon rushed out in one breath, her lips pressed against the top of Alaska’s head as she buried her face in her blonde hair. Alaska could hardly breathe, pressing herself into the crook of Sharon’s neck, just letting the feel of her skin against her own say everything that she couldn’t articulate.

“You came back.” Alaska’s heart was pounding. “You really came back.”

Sharon clung to her. “Of course. I could never leave you behind. You risked everything for me.”

It felt like centuries ago that Alaska’s only motivation had been the money. The reward was still a tantalising offer in the back of her mind, but almost all of her other thoughts were consumed with nothing but bliss. She had taken on a seemingly impossible task to find a cure for a cursed princess who wanted nothing but to die, and would return with the princess alive and well, and madly in love.

Willam and Courtney were going to lose their minds.

“How do we proceed from here?” She asked, her voice muffled against Sharon’s skin. “What happens now?”

Sharon tensed for a moment, but she relaxed again so quickly that Alaska thought maybe she’d imagined it. “Well, Her Majesties Queen Brooke and Queen Scarlet will come to the kingdom with the two of us, as they deserve equal credit and respect for removing the witch problem. You’ll receive your reward. I’ll deal with some business and then… I don’t know what. But I want you to stay in the palace, if you accept. You don’t have to, if you’re more comfortable in your home with your friends, I just thought maybe-”

Alaska silenced her with a kiss, and then smiled. “I’ll think about it. Let’s get home, yeah?”

-

The journey back to Sharon’s kingdom was pleasant, and uneventful. Scarlet and Yvie left together in a carriage, already discussing plans for a formal pardon and perhaps even to instate her as an apothecary in Scarlet’s kingdom. Alaska wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea, but she knew better than to argue with a queen, and since it didn’t affect her own kingdom, she held her tongue. Brooke and Vanessa took a carriage together too, seemingly too wrapped up in each other to really notice anyone else. As Alaska helped Sharon into their carriage, she was pleased to find that the dread that previously filled her chest was gone. 

It was still awe-inspiring, how miraculous her recovery had been. Alaska swore her hair had never been so dark and glossy, her eyes so bright, her lips so pink. She could spend hours just looking, taking her in, if only she could resist the urge not to kiss her whenever the sunlight hit her face.

With Sharon’s life no longer hanging in the balance, the journey seemed to pass much faster than it had before, although the days and nights stopping and starting still grew a little bit tedious. By day, they did everything they could to distract one another - Sharon had been reading fairytales with her again, and Alaska felt shyly proud of being able to muddle her way through a couple of pages at a time. Sometimes they sang, Alaska showing off the lewd, patriotic, and always drunk songs that people sang in the tavern to make them both laugh. Or they would just talk; endlessly, for hours, with comparisons of their lives and general excitement for the future.

But at night, things were different. They would both curl up to sleep, often leaning against one another, but Alaska kept noticing how Sharon’s eyes would stay open long after she’d fallen silent, staring out as if in thought. She didn’t probe, but it concerned her. She sincerely hoped Sharon hadn’t sacrificed anything for her - she couldn’t think of anything worse than the whole cycle repeating again.

As they approached the edge of the kingdom, Sharon drew the curtains shut around the carriage to give them a little more privacy, and they made their way into the centre, towards the palace. Brooke and Scarlet had stopped for a few days in another kingdom, and would be following in a week or so once life had settled back into a normal pace with Sharon’s return. Excitement was starting to take hold; Alaska’s life was about to change forever.

She still hadn’t decided what she would do, yet. A life in the palace sounded tempting, but she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to get mixed up in all the politics of royal life. A part of her wondered about taking the money, buying a decent sized home somewhere nice in the kingdom, and living with Willam and Courtney, working only because they wanted to, not out of necessity. Sharon could visit anytime as an escape from the difficulties of being a leader, and they’d be in love just the same.

Alaska loved Sharon, but she didn’t know if the palace was somewhere she’d thrive. After all, she’d spent her entire life humble, or in other words, dirt poor. She wondered if it would be too big of a change.

When the carriage came to a stop, Sharon took a deep breath, and started to laugh.

“My god. I just realised I have so many apologies to give. I was such an asshole when I was sick.” She giggled nervously. “I hope Laila forgives me. Being her age is rough.”

Alaska nodded. “Honestly. I know they’ll all forgive you, though. It wasn’t like you could control it.”

It didn’t feel like Alaska’s place to intrude into the palace, or even to step out of the carriage first, so she smiled and waved her hand, allowing Sharon the first glimpse of her home since they’d left. For a moment, just briefly, Sharon hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure, and then drew the curtain back and moved to step down. It struck Alaska right in the chest - she hadn’t expected to be coming home. When they’d departed, seemingly forever ago, she had been on the very brink of death and expecting it to take her. 

A part of her wondered if the reason she had even agreed to go on a treacherous journey to find a witch had been solely to allow her family the privacy to mourn her without having to witness her death within the palace walls. It was a dark thought, and she shook it out of her mind. The what-ifs didn’t matter, not anymore. Sharon was safe and well, and she glowed with life.

The palace was much less intimidating without the entire royal family welcoming her into it. Around her, members of staff were busily cleaning and scurrying and working, almost paying no attention to their special arrival, although Alaska swore she could see a few nudges and smiles as they undoubtedly gossiped. Sharon made to start walking inside, only to stop in her tracks as a woman ahead of them did the same thing.

Miss Michaels was working by the palace gates, sweeping the leaves and dust from the ground, but the moment she locked eyes with Sharon, the broom fell from her grasp with a clatter. Her face twisted with a mixture of sorrow and relief, an expression that could only reflect a mother’s love. She all but ran towards them, enveloping Sharon in her arms.

“My girl… my sweet, gorgeous girl…” Alaska could hear the thickness in her voice, in turn making her well up at their reunion. She pulled back only to hold Sharon by the arms, taking in as much of her as she could before resuming the embrace. “Oh, look at you! You look like a summer’s day! Oh, darling girl…” 

Sharon sniffed, not too good to hide her tears. “Mother Dust… were you worried I wouldn’t come home?”

“Not at all,” Miss Michaels told her. “Just infinitely glad that you did. Come on, we have to get you inside this instant. Your family will be overjoyed, dear. And you too, Alaska! The hero of our story.”

Alaska blushed, pretending to herself that it was from the compliment, and not from how easily Sharon took her hand as they started walking. “Oh, I can’t take all the credit.”

“Yes she can,” Sharon butted in, “And she should. She gave me a reason to keep fighting.”

Miss Michaels raised her eyebrows, a small smile playing on her lips. Alaska felt as though her heart was going to beat right out of her chest.

“Oh, she did?”

Sharon laughed. “I didn’t say you could tease me.”

“My dear. I’ve changed you, bathed you and fed you. I don’t need permission to do a little light teasing.”

“I love you, Mother Dust. So… let’s go console my grieving family, right?”

Sharon’s hand slipped into Alaska’s so naturally as they made their way up the palace steps, and yet it almost took her breath away. She didn’t know what the royal family would make of this - hell, she didn’t know how Sharon was going to play it. They were in love, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a complicated situation. Future queens were rarely seen marrying commoners, let alone female commoners.

Once they were stood just outside of the doors into the throne room, they came to a stop. Miss Michaels had tears in her eyes.

“You’re crying?” Sharon sounded perplexed, but her expression was kind. She pulled her maid into a hug. “Why are you crying?”

“It’s - It’s a real life mir-miracle, seeing you walk so far without losing your str-strength.” She managed, her voice wobbling. “Standing upright… not coughing at all…”

Being back where it all began, Alaska wondered about who had been hit the hardest by the illness. Miss Michaels was doing everything she could to swallow back her tears, overcome by the sight of Sharon healthy and flushed with life. She had cared for the princess ever since the onset of her sickness; she had most likely watched her rapid deterioration with a heavy heart, and sent her away in a carriage feeling sure she would never see her alive again. Hell, beyond that, she had raised Sharon since she’d been born, and what a horrible way she’d been led to believe it would end.

“I’m not ready to do this.” Sharon faltered. “I don’t- I don’t know if I can go in there.”

Alaska squeezed her hand. “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

“You’re right. Especially when I have you by my side.”

tags - purecamp, in sickness and in health, shalaska, sharon needles, alaska thunderfuck, yvie oddly, brooke lynn hytes, vanessa vanjie mateo, scarlet envy, scyvie, branjie, chad michaels

[minaa-munch]

Did Minato suffer abuse during the war to make him turn out that way? Did Kushina?

Abuse hm? Ano, I’m no expert, and I can’t exactly speak for Kushina because I haven’t explored her character [feel free to ask @himekushinada and @fox-mother for this one] but I have a few theories where Minato is concerned. Brace thy browser, anon. 

Disclaimer: know that I am no authority on abuse - I know what I know with regards to the very little that I’ve read and the...people I’ve bugged [I owe a certain copy nin and a drunk blonde thingus enough cookies to fill our basket of ideas]. Moreover, this pertains to my interpretation of Flake Sensei. To each their own, ne?

Before I begin rambling, I’d like you to keep a few things in mind: Minato, along with the rest of his generation grew up in hostile times. They didn’t have the luxury of being soft and squishy for long, and their actions in the manga reflect the nuance. As such, what could be considered as ‘emotional abuse’ didn’t necessarily translate as abuse, and therefore, was hardly a priority. 

That being said, it depends on how you identify ‘abuse’ because back then, in the midst of wars and dwindling resources, a lot of things were swept under the rug as expectations. As the militia of Hi no Kuni, shinobi were expected to prioritise missions over sentiments, their client’s safety over their own and -- basically, murder because they were getting paid for it. 

With regards to Minato; I headcanon him being an orphan who had none sans a grandmother to rely on. He loses said grandmother when he graduates the academy, and the void left by her is eventually filled by Jiraiya sensei. Brief history lesson aside, his grounding isn’t as...stable as most other’s [and they aren’t stable themselves to begin with] - the problems associated with that manifest in his need to be perfect. Demo, since he was an asset to the village that way, ‘twas hardly a matter worth pondering on, ne? That’s a sort of neglect everyone faced. Not just him. 

ANYWAYS on to abuse. From what I’ve gleaned from the manga so far, there exists a few...possibilities of the sort of abuse he could have suffered during the wars. I’m going to tackle physical and emotional in a certain context because my limited reading covers those. If you’d like to talk about something specific, let me know. I love such discussions. 

Emotional: Already covered a bit of this earlier on, but I’ll elaborate a little. Konoha lost precious manpower in the form of generations prior to Minato due to the wars. As such, the pressure on his bunch to be able to fill certain...voids, be it in the form of military, or as part of the driving force of their economy. Hidden villages procured funds through missions/Daimyō’s assistance, ne? They probably had a lot of expectations riding on their shoulders, which means little room for friendly socialising important for cognitive growth and more ‘must be an asset rather than a liability’. 

For Minato in particular, he was quite keen on maintaining a certain... appearance because of his reputation as a genius born once every decade. He could not allow that to dull for any reason, and went to certain lengths in order to achieve it. You can tell because of how quickly he became Hokage; charm, skill and all. As his generation’s new ‘legendary’, he was supposed to appear invincible and he kinda did, didn’t he? This is further enunciated by the fact that when he became Yondaime, the ‘legendaries’ of the previous generation, i.e., Densetsu Sanin had flown the coop - and don’t forget the Daimyō approved of Jiraiya [a major reason why he approved of Minato’s ascension as Yondaime, by the by - and this is besides the overwhelming Jōnin vote]. The system needed their sparkly new hope and he was it; the youngest Hokage in history with a Jinchuriki wife [-shoves conspiracy no jutsu in a closet-] 

Oh, and PTSD? Given the wars, every shinobi suffered from it in one way or form [it’s a given - enough to be considered a ‘norm’]. Minato does too, but his sparkles are very distracting. Gives the allusion that he actually cares, ne? Given the background I consider for him, there are very little things he truly cares about. He will use an individual if he has to. [Kakashi was his Jinchuriki wife’s bodyguard - the same Kakashi who only had Minato left in the world, and a sharingan that could potentially control a biju if the need so arose. Creative speculation, ne? I need to explore this conspiracy some time] 

Random note: There’s this nice little resource shared by the amazing ultimumspes on writing PTSD. Your question reminded me of it, and the writer and I thought I’d place it here in case anyone would like to consider it. _ 

Physical: As a reputed genius, Minato had a certain image that was often blown out of proportion by rumours and the fact that he was an apprentice to Jiraiya of the Sanin. Couple that with breaking Hiruzen’s record at the ninja academy, and you have a scary ninja child you don’t want to mess with. However, considering the incessant need for maintaining honour/dominance and the thread of - excuse my French - consistent male ego in the manga, it’s very possible that a fellow cadet could have challenged him at an outpost in order to test their own mettle, or establish a certain hierarchy over a scrawny little midget who suddenly thought of himself as good enough to participate in the war [whereas there are people who have been posted at the same outpost since forever]. 

Traditional Shinobi Sparring [Dentōteki no Shinobi Kumite] was a thing, ne? War brings out the worst in people, and with dwindling resources and massacred forces [the Densetsu Sanin’s generation and the ones before that], it’s unrealistic to imagine that everyone would still be all...fuzzy wuzzy with each other. Likewise, it is in the realm of possibility to suggest that Minato probably lost a match or two [not more, mind. Ego gotta come from somewhere]. Said losses, coupled with subsequent experiences in the Second Shinobi War, were probably enough to not only fuel his paranoia, but also to justify the lengths he has gone to with regards to evolving his fighting style so that he would be unbeatable. 

Attack regardless of the opponent being ready? Yep. Kill for sheer numbers? Absolutely. Steal intel/ninjutsu/informative scrolls from other territories if he found them interesting enough? You bet. Theirs wasn’t a profession or a system that fostered honourable means, despite Sakumo’s example persisting otherwise [Honour is more of a samurai thing, methinks]. A shinobi must look underneath the underneath and Minato dug deep. You can imagine a lot of characters from his generation went down similar routes - theirs is an interesting little rabbit hole one could explore for ages. Minato simply happened to be a lot sneakier.  

At the end of the day, you could say ‘abuse’ played a part...demo, but as much for him as it did for others. All of them suffered but said nuances didn’t register as ‘abuse’ because for them, it was probably the norm. Thinking along those lines, I can’t help but imagine that kunoichi - especially the foreign sort such as Kushina, or the common, non-special-clan-affiliated sort such as Anko [maybe?] - probably had it a lot worse. 

I digress. Hope this answered your question. Ano, unless by ‘that way’ you were referring to the heartless thingus I tend to write at times - that’s been explored here. 

[cutxthroat]

I’m Going to Protect You. ❜

Summary:  Cutler is talented with a sword but he still needs help sometimes.

     This wasn’t quite how he’d envisioned that the night would go.

     When they’d first entered the small town bar, Cutler had been under the impression that he would be able to have a round or two with his friends and leave peacefully.  The atmosphere was second to none, bustling with chatter and flirtation, and he sank into the normalcy all too willingly. We’ll each buy a round, he’d said with all the confidence of a rich man, and then we’ll disappear into the night.  We’ll board the next fleet and be on our merry way., and nobody will be any the wiser!

     With his hands full of beer mugs, Cutler turned to head back to his friends.  Once he’d found his seat around the small, circular table, he slammed the round down with a joyous whoop, face contorted into a mischievous grin.

     “A toast!”

     “A toast!”    Zachariah and Luffy echoed in unison, mugs raised high, froth spilling over the edges.

     “To freedom!”     He spun in a wide circle, spilling beer everywhere, only to come face to face with an all too familiar uniform.  His expression took a moment to fall, though when it did it happened all at once.     “Ah.”     He cast a feeble glance to his still-raised drink, tipping it in the officer’s direction.     “...thirsty?”

     His wrist was seized before he could think to do anything, beer tumbling to the floor.  By now, patrons were beginning to turn around, once lively ambience dissolving into confused murmuring, the bartenders peering over their customers in an attempt to get a glimpse of what was causing the commotion.  Cutler began to wriggle and writhe, tugging with all the ferocity of a captured animal.  It disconcerted him to hear the clink of handcuffs, though the officer didn’t get to set it around his wrist before Cutler’s right-hand man had picked up the nearest barstool and hurled it at him.  He stumbled to the ground, completely caught off-guard, more than a little wounded.

     “Thanks…”     Cutler mumbled, backing up to be by Zachariah’s side.  The man was his second for a reason.

     “Hate to cut your toast short, bud, but I think we’ve got a situation here.”

     “Heh.  You might be right about that.”     Cutler chuckled as his fingers wrapped around the worn handle of his trusty sword.  It wasn’t commonplace to see a peasant like him with such a specialised weapon, but his old teacher had taught him well.  He unsheathed it, metal catching the lowlight of the ceiling lanterns.  By now, a deathly silence had befallen the bar.  He was almost sure that at least somebody wanted to do something, to intervene somehow, but what was there to do?  Most didn’t like their chances when it came to opposing the law.

     “Come quietly.  Have you not dragged us far enough now?”

     Zachariah spared the man an indignant huff, head tipped dismissively to the side.     “We didn’t tell you to follow us like dogs.  It ain’t our fault.”

     The guard didn’t like that.  His face twisted into a scowl, eyebrows furrowed taut, and his hand reached for the rapier secured to his belt.  The thin blade glared at its opponent from beneath the dim light.     “Then I shall drag you back by force.”

     Cutler rushed forward to intercept the guard’s maddened dash, his cutlass swept hard at the opposing blade.  His parted feet kept him firmly locked in place as he briefly regarded his friends over his shoulder.     “Don’t just stand there like muppets!  Get outta here!”

     With a hand protectively around Luffy’s shoulder, Zachariah began to back up.  The smaller of them spoke up, worry hinged onto every syllable.

     “But what about you?!”

     Cutler spared a moment to chuckle, successfully deflecting another hard swing.     “I’ll be fine, same as always.  Now go!”

     The pair stared for only a moment longer before beginning to make their hasty escape.  Though there were muffled whispers about stopping them coming from some members of the crowd, they were simply too stunned to do anything.  Zachariah counted his lucky stars for that.  We can’t stay.  We can’t leave Luffy in the middle of that.  Besides, they’ll come with back-up any second.  If that happens, we’re all dead.

     As they tore into the streets, the pair of them slipping through back allies, clumsily staggering into bins as they struggled to make it onto the streets, Luffy’s hand closed around his friend’s wrist.

     “We can’t leave him!”

     “We’re not gonna leave him.”   Zachariah grunted, dragging him to a street corner, stationing him in the shadows of the houses.  To most walking the streets, he was fairly well concealed     “But you’re not gonna move from that spot.”

     “Zach…!”

     “I’m serious, Luffy.  Don’t.  Move.  That’s an order.”     It was all he said before he began to run.  He made his way down the street, his footsteps loud against the cobblestone sidewalk.  In the dead of night, everything sounded loud.  He tried not to think about how much attention he could be drawing to himself as he skidded around the corner, making a mad dash for the bar’s front entrance.  He knew that Cutler had wanted him to run, to head to their designated safe spot and wait for him, but he couldn’t leave him there knowing that more guards were going to come.  It was inevitable;  to patrol alone was a death-wish, regardless of strength or skill level.

     He peered through the front window in time to catch Cutler in the midst of a heated sparring session.  Despite the focus on his face, his lips were moving periodically.

     God damn it.  You’re gonna talk shit until the bitter end, huh?

     “Yield.”     The guard spat, teeth grit hard as he attempted to force Cutler’s sword away from him.     “This is ridiculous.  You are a peasant, yet you oppose our King;  you speak of war like it is a divine prophecy.  The people of Efsev need to see you dead.  It is for the greater good.”

     “FAH!  ‘’Greater good’’--  don’t make me laugh.”     He attempted to lunge, sharp point thrust towards his opponent’s chest.  He was stopped by a powerful swing of the guard’s arm, a sound of raw frustration torn from his throat as he corrected his stance.     “If this was fer the ‘greater good’, you wouldn’t need to kill people.”

     That seemed to tick his opponent off royally.  His blade was brought down harder with an indignation so fierce that it made the peasant want to cower, wrist bending unpleasantly as he flinched.  Though he’d grown accustomed to fighting by now, he didn’t take much pleasure in it. If it was up to him, none of this would have happened in the first place.  His desperate rally for revolution wouldn’t have blossomed so quickly had his district not filled him with such hopelessness.

     It’s the King…  he’s corrupt.  He needs overthrowing.  I know that I’m right.  A revolution would fix all of our problems.  A revolution would get rid of him.

     His anger acted almost as a secondary dagger.  While his body was steadily growing tired, that terrible flame remained lit, roaring like a train as it engulfed him.  His rage was such an ugly thing…  it was why he went to such lengths to change what was causing it in the first place.  If not me, who?  If not now, when?

     “Face it,”     Cutler growled.     “You’re defending a murderous tyrant.  That makes you no better than one.  If anybody deserves to be hung, it’s you.”     He suddenly lurched forwards with all of his weight, free hand wrapping around the handle of his sword alongside his other.  Both arms swung down heavily, jagged point dug straight into the guard’s rapier, forcing him to relinquish his hold.  The weapon spun across the floor.  A member of the crowd gawked as it made gentle contact with their boot.     “You yield.”

     I am more than willing to die for this cause.  I will be a martyr.  I will be written about in history books.  I will appear in testaments and people will talk about how fearless a sev I was.  You will be the villain.  You will be the scum that tried to stop a peaceful district from developing because there was money to be made from conflict.

     His confidence was short-lived as two more guards spilled into the bar, swords drawn, cuff’s jangling like death cries.  Though he doubted he could fend them both off, Cutler swore that he would die trying.  They charged straight for him, unprepared for the way he carried himself.  He was no prodigy, no covert superhero, but the smith who had once taken him in as an apprentice had trained him well.  Hours had been spent sparring with one another around the shop, though the only thing they ever killed was time.  If only it was that playful now.

     His feet weaved in and out of tables and chairs, as if they were people he needed to evade, blade swinging hurriedly.  He could feel it now-- that exhaustion that was beginning to creep up on him. He couldn’t keep going like this.  He had to find a way to end this.

     Cutler took a gamble, elevating himself atop one of the tables and sparring from above.  The higher vantage point made his body harder to reach, though the screech of metal blades scraping against one another remained dreadfully close.  As one of them slunk around the table to attack from behind, the bandit raised his leg and delivered a harsh kick to the wrist of the man in front.  His sword was knocked to the ground, hard clatter ringing in his ears along with his pulse.  

     His body followed shortly after.

     The guard behind him had pulled him down from the table, dragging him to the ground.

     He laid there in pain, writhing desperately as he pushed himself to sit up.  Every muscle ached;  now that he’d stopped fighting, he felt how worn out he was.  I’m just one sev…  this is why I need a united front to help me achieve peace:  I can’t do it alone. 

     Cutler felt horribly small as the guard’s shadow was cast over him.

     “You’re under arrest,”     he said coldly, glowering at him as if he was little more than dirt beneath his shoe.     “It’s ov--”

     He watched, stunned, as the guard went rigid, then collapsed to the ground unconscious.  As he fell, an angry Zachariah was revealed, both hands clutching a beer mug.  A glance to the side showed the opponent he’d managed to beat slumped over in a similar fashion.  He must have given them one hell of a whack with that mug.  I wonder if he’s aware of how strong he is.

     “You idiot…”     he muttered, though a relieved smile stretched across his face as he came forward to offer his hand.  Cutler stared at it for a moment before smiling meekly, allowing himself to be pulled back to his feet.

     “Thanks…  I was pretty much done.”

     “How many times, Cut?  Don’t thank me.  We’re best friends.  You protect me, so I’m going to protect you.”     We’re all we’ve got in this world.  You, me and Luffy, in it for the long haul.  Dark brown eyes shifted to the small crowd that had formed, drinking in their stupefied expressions.  There was no doubt in his mind that a few of them had fancied themselves as heroes;  if they stayed there any longer, he was certain that they would do their best to apprehend them by themselves.  The element of surprise would wear off eventually.

     His hand tightened around his friend’s wrist, pulling him closer.   In a low voice:     “We gotta get outta here.  Now.”

     Cutler didn’t need to be told twice.  They both tore from the silent tavern before anybody could utter a word, the swordsman breathing hard as the adrenaline slowly began to leave him.  Tired.  I’m so tired.  They barely stopped to retrieve their third party member before continuing the desperate rush to the dock, feet hot, bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat.  They were all panting by the time they stopped, though Cutler was worse for wear;  his tunic’s thin material damp as he doubled over and heaved for air.  Had he been a little greener, he would have planted himself on the ground exactly where he stood, but he had learned the hard way that resting before they were out of the woods only led to a deeper sense of fatigue.  Getting up again was always harder than staying up. 

     “We’re better off waitin’ here,”     murmured Zach, running a hand through his thick hair.  Curls caught in his fingers, squeezed taut with frustration before he released them once more.  He was an angry man, all things considered.  It felt good to display aggression.     “The fleet’ll come at dawn.  Let’s just keep a low profile until then.”     His eyes followed Luffy as he moved to lay on a bench, small form huddled and quiet.  They slowly moved to where Cutler stood panting.  His breathing was slowly levelling out, an arm sweeping across his forehead in order to dry it.

     “You okay?”     Zach asked as he approached, normally hard features softening a little.  A hand hovered briefly before it made delicate contact with Cutler’s elbow.     “Didn’t get hurt, did you?”

     The swordsman shook his head, flashing a confident smile.  It was more for his friend’s sake than his own.     “Course not.”     Slowly, the expression wavered, becoming meek.     “Maybe a little…  but nothin’ serious.  Didn’t even get a cut.”

     “That’s a shame.  Maybe it’d stop you runnin’ your mouth so damn much.”

     “Hah.  So harsh.”

     They met eyes briefly, sharing a moment of solidarity.  Their quiet smiles spoke relief despite the fact that their lips did not part.  Zachariah was the first to be visited by sobriety.

     “... I’m serious, Cut.  One day your mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.  Talk less.”

     Cutler spared him a quiet laugh, hands meeting his hips.  Come the end of things, he knew that his friend was only looking out for him.  It was what he’d always done.  Being the son of a cruel general lent him some benefits, the most noticeable of which being a steadfast resolve.  He’d give his life for those he deemed worthy of it, and he knew that he made that cut.

     “Heh...  but where’s the fun in that, sir?”

[alexsmitposts]

The Age of Anxiety Redux In 1948 the poet, W.H. Auden, published a long poem he titled, The Age of Anxiety, in which four characters express their anxiety about their place in a world that has been destroyed by two world wars and was threatened by a third, and nuclear, world war. He described the faces in the bars, the people trying to cling to average days that no longer existed, all hoping that the lights wouldn’t go out, that the music would always play, that they could avoid looking at where they were, lost in the dark, “children afraid of the night, who have never been happy or good.” The entire period, from 1914 until today, has been an age of anxiety created by our common experience of life in the dominant economic, social, and political system that atomises the individual, reduces them to fragment of themselves and constantly threatens them with annihilation. A tortured humanity cried out for something better and, for a time, during the rise of socialism, during and after the First World War and through to the counter-revolution in what was the Soviet Union, a new human spirit appeared and created conditions that made people aware of their own possibilities and taught them that the other was not an enemy or a competitor, but a friend, a brother, a sister, who, together, could do anything, for when you can do things and know it, anxiety transforms into confidence and calm, into resoluteness and courage. Liberation movements arose against all the imperialist countries, supported by the socialist nations. The possibility of a better world arose, and as Che Guevara wrote, the possibility of a new human being governed by the spirit of cooperation and regard for fellow beings, by love instead of war. But, though the struggle goes on, the present reality is a return to universal anxiety. Nuclear war is a possibility at any time. The Americans threaten it, the Russians, Iranians, Koreans, Chinese prepare for it, and the rest of us can only bite our nails and hope they will not see that bright flash on the horizon just before they are swept into oblivion. Human caused climate change alone threatens us with an immediate existential threat. Temperatures are rising faster than expected by the official journals, though as expected by the more astute scientists, climate systems are disrupted, crops are threatened, the oceans acidified, the ice melting, the seas rising. Our industrial civilisation has destroyed the world ecological systems so that the scientific consensus is that we are in the midst of the 6th Mass Extinction event and its ultimate conclusion is not far off; decades at most, much shorter by some estimations, certainly within my life time. And the daily grind in the capitalist system generates the daily anxiety we all face, worrying about getting the money you need to live in this system, about paying the bills, about losing the job that you probably hate in any event and only do out of necessity, for most of us do work that creates no satisfaction and from which we can see no escape. The alternative is the street, the hunger, the cold, the heat, the loneliness of being poor. Charlie Chaplin expressed it in Modern Times, the human being as human machine, used up and then discarded by the machine system, worse than slaves, now reduced to subhuman slaves. On top of all this background anxiety we now have the warnings of imminent death from the corona virus and the unprecedented disruption of every aspect of our lives its appearance has created. Now many face the cruel reality of losing their place in the capitalist lottery as the capitalist economic system breaks down, the system ceases to function, and uncertainty and fear are ever-present. And, as with all states of anxiety, we see the rise of irrationality and superstition, as people try to convince themselves, “like children afraid of the night” that it is not really happening, or that man created it instead of nature, feeling more secure that it was designed than is a random product of nature, which seems to frighten them the more, and that however it came to be, it is much ado about nothing, just another flu. We have seen several articles lately making these claims. It has been claimed it was a result of a Chinese bio-warfare lab making a mistake and leaking a virus. It has been claimed it was an American Army laboratory that leaked it; that China was attacked by the US Army sports team that went to a competition in China. For none of these claims is any evidence presented, Instead, they use speculation and conjecture based on false facts or coincidence. Some of them contradict themselves in different articles, One wrote an alarming essay the US Army was behind it. Later he wrote another suggesting it was all a plot by Bill Gates and friends. Well, which it it? They don’t know because they don’t know and don’t care about being consistent so long as it is alarming. But these articles are passed around and soon Trump begins blaming China and China blaming the US exacerbating the already tense situation between the two countries that could lead to nuclear war. These articles fan those flames. While those that claim it is a plot for “world domination” and that it is either not really happening, or, if happening, is nothing to be concerned about, cause people to put themselves and others at risk by ignoring any measures put in place to protect them and the rest of us. That superstition is involved is plain to see. Those making these claims state that world governments are lying to us. Yet they cannot then explain why the Chinese, Russian, Iranians, Cuban, North Koreans and other anti-imperialist nations take it very seriously and have acted to contain it. But they don’t think about that. They are whistling in the dark because their own anxiety levels are so high, so, to comfort themselves, they invent comforting stories so that they can feel in control. But we are not in control. Nature is. For it is probable, as the Chinese have shown with their genetic studies of the virus that it likely came out of nature not out of a lab. Of course there is no denying the evil intentions and potential of the western war machine, and of course anything is possible, but until someone comes up with some concrete and reliable evidence that, for example, the virus was an attack on China by the USA, a claim which could add the spark to the powder keg of war, I will assume it is something Nature has thrown at us, at the world, and that instead of creating more division between the nations and peoples of the world we must all act together to help each other as humanity unites to overcome this new threat.

[tuneoftyourdeath]

So I wanted to show people this

I wrote this story some while ago and never really showed it to anyone, but I’m somewhat proud of it. I miss writing so much and I guess I still cling onto the old stuff I’ve written BUT ANYWAY I hope you (whoever is reading this) enjoy it!!

A Report of Time 

By mightytime.

      I’ve always been impressed with the abstraction with which people define me. The use me, make the most of me, throw me away, and some don’t even know what to do with me. I can go by faster or slower; therefore, they keep on trying to keep me organised. Pathetic. For some, I’m the most precious thing in the world; for others, I’m just a heartless bastard weighing on the shoulders. But not this fellow in particular, whose story I’m about to tell you. This one simply couldn’t make up his mind.    

      John was his name. Not very tall, not very rich, not very lucky, not very much of anything, really. He lived in London, God Save the Queen!; and despite looking like an ordinary man, worried about the weather, the traffic, the bath temperature; only two things took hold of his thoughts: Alice and me.    

      Each minute of each day he thought of us two, his thinking about her entwined with his thinking about me. It’s a funny thing, I’d say. It had been quite a while they hadn’t seen each other, John and Alice; they met at school years ago when I was still an ally and my permanence didn’t seem to interfere. Naivety, I’d say; allowing yourself into such substantial feeling, regardless of the damage that my prolonged stay might cause, is one of the sweetest innocences I’ve ever encountered.    

      She was, humbly saying, what you’d imagine an angel looks like: Beautiful, generous, caring, delicate and strong at the same time, clever and cautious, capable of making any lad fall head over heels, and specially John. He felt lucky. “How come me?” he thought; “Why me? Why the shy, unnoticed, so messed up me?” Maybe she was just as misunderstood as him, or maybe she regarded a sense of wholesomeness in him that fit perfectly into whatever was missing in her life. It doesn’t really matter, what only did matter was that they must have found something in each other that made my presence insignificant, till then, the war.    

      John had been sent to war, Vietnam. He had left Alice in tears but he had no choice. Two years in combat had been inflicted to him and it was the best offer he got, believe it or not. There was a goodbye party, friends, drinks, lots of speeches and hugs. And as before the altar and God himself, Alice and John promised themselves to each other for as long as they were apart. The makeshift wedding ring, a brooch that was gently threaded upon Alice’s coat, vouched for their hasty, yet true, vow.    

      Bombs, chaos, unceasing firing and fear. John had never seen anything like it; he’d never been capable of imagining how far the eyes could behold such horror. I’ve seen worse, in all my raging unstoppable existence, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn my guts or makes me sickly miserable; but to him it was immeasurably worse; to bare it all, the sweet tender John; and I must admit that my having been there didn’t help him very much.  

      John counted me, constantly thinking and avoiding thinking about me. He couldn’t decide whether to ignore me or if to just endure my lingering about would make it hurt less. Which somewhat made me upset, because it’s not nice at all to know you’re part of someone’s suffering.   

      In spite of always mailing letters to each other during their separation, as to help with coping, he had been yearning acutely to see her again since the day he left. In his words, he’d put it the same way: “Still alive, still for you”. And every night he used to sit on the edge of his bed, looking at the brooch, flipping it through his fingers, imagining her smile and the soft warm touch of her lips pressing onto his once again.    

      Given that I never, and could never, stop, he eventually came back home, thank The Lord. He had a rendezvous with Alice in a nice charming restaurant downtown London. He could just picture it: She would walk in through the double doors and ask the waiter for John, but no answer would be necessary, because before the waiter could even conclude his sentence, Alice’s eyes would meet John’s. She would then rush to his arms, and dive into his embrace; finding in it again the ease and reassurance of John’s clasp; and like in a movie, they would kiss as if it were the last time.    

      It was around midday and John was already there. He had bought her flowers. Daisies; her favourites. Even forgot to throw the receipt away, so it was still in his pocket, staining his pound notes. He was dressed up in a military uniform, sharp, and even had a dog tag tangling down his bruised neck. Was he trying to prove something to himself, to make up for the war frenzy, or was it just pride? Go figure... And again, he insisted upon thinking of me, awful things really; that I was stalling Alice’s arrival; that I had some sort of problem with him. Not fair, for neither John, nor me. They say I can drive people quite unhinged, and there are a few times I do believe that, the way they derange themselves around me.    

      By the table, John was a grenade with its pin pulled off. He would explode at any moment. Affliction took hold of his senses. At the table behind him, an old lady tried to convince her husband that The Bahamas were the best place to spend this holiday season. A bit ahead, a mother was hopelessly trying  to make her fretful baby stop crying. To his left, two parents were telling their daughter off for getting home late the night before.  

      There was a silent nervous breakdown. The shrieking sound coming from the coffee machine when filling another cup hit his ears the same way a bullet does when it grazes the scalp. Each piece of cutlery dropped onto the floor made him shiver; they reminded him of a projectile brushing the surface of his helmet. The yelled words between waiters and cooks were as unclear as those between soldiers and their commanders resonating midst the disarray of bloodshed.     

      He was back in the battle field, sifting through in his head, instructions he had received whilst in training, searching for an evasive manoeuvre: In case of running out of ammunition, check the bottle temperature before giving it to the baby. No, wait. If an air raid menaces, then we won’t have to buy any presents this year. What? What was it again? “AH!! LOOK FOR SHELTER!! “But dad I’m already fifteen!” “AH!! HELP US!!” 

      He couldn’t bring himself to hearing himself think with so much going on around. Praying for the mayhem to cease at once, he glared at his watch, that stupid little thing people use to... how is it again? Oh, right, measure me. He swore he could hear me laughing at him through it. And how heavy it was, it trapped and squeezed him like a handcuff, straining him away from his girl... 

      ...his girl.     

      Suddenly it all went mute; John could only but hear his heavy breathing when his gaze fell upon her visage. There she was, waiting across the street for the lights to go green, distracted, almost ditsy-like; and staring wistfully at a piece of paper in her hands. Alice looked beautiful, gorgeous, flaring; the breath-taking usual Alice. She’d had her hair cut, and a locket was perfectly visible around her neck. The sun reflected vividly on her golden locks, aiming straight at John’s astounded eyes, who had broken free from the trance he was deep plunged into and was now moving towards the door.    

      Stepping out onto the pavement, he tried to come up with what to say to Alice, but there were no words to express what he felt, what he had been feeling, how bad he missed her. His feet led him while he crossed the street.  “That’s odd”, he thought, “Why haven’t you seen me yet? I mean, I’m right in front of you, and the lights are already green! Why are you still looking at that silly piece of paper? What on earth is it!?” And then he saw. It was a picture he had given her before going away, so she could remember what he looked like, in case she’d come to forget it.    

        She looked over, her distracted feature was instantly undone into such a smile I swear, not even I could ever forget it. John stuffed his lungs with air: 

      - Alice! I…    

      He was swept off his feet as his legs were disassembled by a sudden bumper, tossing him away, making him soar in the air like a leaf adrift in autumn. Alice was speechless for a moment, and I must admit, so was I. People who were passing by turned at the scene. Some were shocked, some disgusted, some dismayed; but they all felt sorry for the dead man and the sobbing girl who lied hunched forward on what was left of him.  John’s soul, and then of course, his body, was withdrawn amongst the cars, that opted to just swerve the mournful scene, rather than to properly stop and demonstrate a shred of respect for our unfortunate lovers. All because they couldn’t wait; apparently, they were also worried about me...

...but that’s never done any good to anyone, has it? 

Well that’s about it, folks! :)

[loveofyhwh]

September 12: Proverbs 13–14; 2 Timothy 3:1–9; Psalm 68:19–35; Proverbs 23:13–14

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September 12: Proverbs 13–14; 2 Timothy 3:1–9; Psalm 68:19–35; Proverbs 23:13–14

Old Testament:

Proverbs 13–14

Proverbs 13–14 (Listen)

13   A wise son hears his father’s instruction,     but a scoffer does not listen to rebuke. 2   From the fruit of his mouth a man eats what is good,     but the desire of the treacherous is for violence. 3   Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life;     he who opens wide his lips comes to ruin. 4   The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing,     while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied. 5   The righteous hates falsehood,     but the wicked brings shameOr stench‘>1 and disgrace. 6   Righteousness guards him whose way is blameless,     but sin overthrows the wicked. 7   One pretends to be rich,Or One makes himself rich‘>2 yet has nothing;     another pretends to be poor,Or another makes himself poor‘>3 yet has great wealth. 8   The ransom of a man’s life is his wealth,     but a poor man hears no threat. 9   The light of the righteous rejoices,     but the lamp of the wicked will be put out. 10   By insolence comes nothing but strife,     but with those who take advice is wisdom. 11   Wealth gained hastilyOr by fraud‘>4 will dwindle,     but whoever gathers little by little will increase it. 12   Hope deferred makes the heart sick,     but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life. 13   Whoever despises the wordOr a word‘>5 brings destruction on himself,     but he who reveres the commandmentOr a commandment‘>6 will be rewarded. 14   The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life,     that one may turn away from the snares of death. 15   Good sense wins favor,     but the way of the treacherous is their ruin.Probable reading (compare Septuagint, Syriac, Vulgate); Hebrew is rugged, or is an enduring rut‘>7 16   Every prudent man acts with knowledge,     but a fool flaunts his folly. 17   A wicked messenger falls into trouble,     but a faithful envoy brings healing. 18   Poverty and disgrace come to him who ignores instruction,     but whoever heeds reproof is honored. 19   A desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul,     but to turn away from evil is an abomination to fools. 20   Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise,     but the companion of fools will suffer harm. 21   DisasterOr Evil‘>8 pursues sinners,     but the righteous are rewarded with good. 22   A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children,     but the sinner’s wealth is laid up for the righteous. 23   The fallow ground of the poor would yield much food,     but it is swept away through injustice. 24   Whoever spares the rod hates his son,     but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.Or who loves him disciplines him early‘>9 25   The righteous has enough to satisfy his appetite,     but the belly of the wicked suffers want. 14   The wisest of women builds her house,     but folly with her own hands tears it down. 2   Whoever walks in uprightness fears the LORD,     but he who is devious in his ways despises him. 3   By the mouth of a fool comes a rod for his back,Or In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride‘>10     but the lips of the wise will preserve them. 4   Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean,     but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. 5   A faithful witness does not lie,     but a false witness breathes out lies. 6   A scoffer seeks wisdom in vain,     but knowledge is easy for a man of understanding. 7   Leave the presence of a fool,     for there you do not meet words of knowledge. 8   The wisdom of the prudent is to discern his way,     but the folly of fools is deceiving. 9   Fools mock at the guilt offering,     but the upright enjoy acceptance.Hebrew but among the upright is acceptance‘>11 10   The heart knows its own bitterness,     and no stranger shares its joy. 11   The house of the wicked will be destroyed,     but the tent of the upright will flourish. 12   There is a way that seems right to a man,     but its end is the way to death.Hebrew ways of death‘>12 13   Even in laughter the heart may ache,     and the end of joy may be grief. 14   The backslider in heart will be filled with the fruit of his ways,     and a good man will be filled with the fruit of his ways. 15   The simple believes everything,     but the prudent gives thought to his steps. 16   One who is wise is cautiousOr fears [the Lord]‘>13 and turns away from evil,     but a fool is reckless and careless. 17   A man of quick temper acts foolishly,     and a man of evil devices is hated. 18   The simple inherit folly,     but the prudent are crowned with knowledge. 19   The evil bow down before the good,     the wicked at the gates of the righteous. 20   The poor is disliked even by his neighbor,     but the rich has many friends. 21   Whoever despises his neighbor is a sinner,     but blessed is he who is generous to the poor. 22   Do they not go astray who devise evil?     Those who devise good meetOr show‘>14 steadfast love and faithfulness. 23   In all toil there is profit,     but mere talk tends only to poverty. 24   The crown of the wise is their wealth,     but the folly of fools brings folly. 25   A truthful witness saves lives,     but one who breathes out lies is deceitful. 26   In the fear of the LORD one has strong confidence,     and his children will have a refuge. 27   The fear of the LORD is a fountain of life,     that one may turn away from the snares of death. 28   In a multitude of people is the glory of a king,     but without people a prince is ruined. 29   Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding,     but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly. 30   A tranquilOr healing‘>15 heart gives life to the flesh,     but envyOr jealousy‘>16 makes the bones rot. 31   Whoever oppresses a poor man insults his Maker,     but he who is generous to the needy honors him. 32   The wicked is overthrown through his evildoing,     but the righteous finds refuge in his death. 33   Wisdom rests in the heart of a man of understanding,     but it makes itself known even in the midst of fools.Or Wisdom rests quietly in the heart of a man of understanding, but makes itself known in the midst of fools‘>17 34   Righteousness exalts a nation,     but sin is a reproach to any people. 35   A servant who deals wisely has the king’s favor,     but his wrath falls on one who acts shamefully.

Footnotes

[1] 13:5 Or stench [2] 13:7 Or One makes himself rich [3] 13:7 Or another makes himself poor [4] 13:11 Or by fraud [5] 13:13 Or a word [6] 13:13 Or a commandment [7] 13:15 Probable reading (compare Septuagint, Syriac, Vulgate); Hebrew is rugged, or is an enduring rut [8] 13:21 Or Evil [9] 13:24 Or who loves him disciplines him early [10] 14:3 Or In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride [11] 14:9 Hebrew but among the upright is acceptance [12] 14:12 Hebrew ways of death [13] 14:16 Or fears [the Lord] [14] 14:22 Or show [15] 14:30 Or healing [16] 14:30 Or jealousy [17] 14:33 Or Wisdom rests quietly in the heart of a man of understanding, but makes itself known in the midst of fools

(ESV)

New Testament:

2 Timothy 3:1–9

2 Timothy 3:1–9 (Listen)

Godlessness in the Last Days

3 But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. 2 For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, 3 heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, 4 treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, 5 having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people. 6 For among them are those who creep into households and capture weak women, burdened with sins and led astray by various passions, 7 always learning and never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth. 8 Just as Jannes and Jambres opposed Moses, so these men also oppose the truth, men corrupted in mind and disqualified regarding the faith. 9 But they will not get very far, for their folly will be plain to all, as was that of those two men.

(ESV)

Psalm:

Psalm 68:19–35

Psalm 68:19–35 (Listen)

19   Blessed be the Lord,     who daily bears us up;     God is our salvation. Selah 20   Our God is a God of salvation,     and to GOD, the Lord, belong deliverances from death. 21   But God will strike the heads of his enemies,     the hairy crown of him who walks in his guilty ways. 22   The Lord said,     “I will bring them back from Bashan,   I will bring them back from the depths of the sea, 23   that you may strike your feet in their blood,     that the tongues of your dogs may have their portion from the foe.” 24   Your procession isOr has been‘>1 seen, O God,     the procession of my God, my King, into the sanctuary— 25   the singers in front, the musicians last,     between them virgins playing tambourines: 26   “Bless God in the great congregation,     the LORD, O youThe Hebrew for you is plural here‘>2 who are of Israel’s fountain!” 27   There is Benjamin, the least of them, in the lead,     the princes of Judah in their throng,     the princes of Zebulun, the princes of Naphtali. 28   Summon your power, O God,By revocalization (compare Septuagint); Hebrew Your God has summoned your power‘>3     the power, O God, by which you have worked for us. 29   Because of your temple at Jerusalem     kings shall bear gifts to you. 30   Rebuke the beasts that dwell among the reeds,     the herd of bulls with the calves of the peoples.   Trample underfoot those who lust after tribute;     scatter the peoples who delight in war.The meaning of the Hebrew verse is uncertain‘>4 31   Nobles shall come from Egypt;     Cush shall hasten to stretch out her hands to God. 32   O kingdoms of the earth, sing to God;     sing praises to the Lord, Selah 33   to him who rides in the heavens, the ancient heavens;     behold, he sends out his voice, his mighty voice. 34   Ascribe power to God,     whose majesty is over Israel,     and whose power is in the skies. 35   Awesome is God from hisSeptuagint; Hebrew your‘>5 sanctuary;     the God of Israel—he is the one who gives power and strength to his people.   Blessed be God!

Footnotes

[1] 68:24 Or has been [2] 68:26 The Hebrew for you is plural here [3] 68:28 By revocalization (compare Septuagint); Hebrew Your God has summoned your power [4] 68:30 The meaning of the Hebrew verse is uncertain [5] 68:35 Septuagint; Hebrew your

(ESV)

Proverb:

Proverbs 23:13–14

Proverbs 23:13–14 (Listen)

13   Do not withhold discipline from a child;     if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. 14   If you strike him with the rod,     you will save his soul from Sheol.

(ESV)

[madewithonerib]

     1 Corinthians 4:8 | Already you have all you want.       Already you have become rich. Without us, you       have become kings.

     How I wish you really were kings, so that we      might be kings with you.

Pulpit Commentary by Donald Spence Jones [1836-1917] |  | 1 Corinthians 4:8

     Verse 8—Now you are full, now you are rich; rather, already      you have been sated, already you grew rich.

     There is a strong but healing irony in these expressions, &      in the entire contrast between the comfortable, full fed,      regal self satisfaction of the Corinthians, & the      depression & scorn in the midst of which the apostles lived.

     The loving delicate irony is, in a different way, as      effective as the stern denunciation of John.

     John: "You say, I am rich, & increased with goods, &      have need of nothing; & knows not that you are wretched,      & miserable, & poor, & blind, & naked" [Revelation 3:17].

     Paul's satire is always akin to charity;       it is never satire with no pity in it.

     You have reigned as kings.

     The word simply means "you reigned.”

     Like the Stoics, so each little Corinthian sectarian      regarded himself as a king.

     "To reign" was, however, a proverbial phrase [like the      Latin vivo et regno] for being "happy as a king.

     Without us [comp. Hebrews 11:40].

     The Corinthians were cultivated enough to      appreciate the deep irony of the phrase, "We poor apostles      have become quite needless to you in your lordly      independence. And I would to GOD ye did reign.

     The words "to GOD" should be omitted.

     The loving heart of Paul could never long keep up      astrain of irony.

     He drops the satire, & passes on to impassioned &      affectionate appeal. That we also might reign with you.

     If the exalted eminence which you now only enjoy      in your own conceits had been but real, then we,      whose "hope, & joy, & crown of exultation      you are in the presence of CHRIST"       [1 Thessalonians 2:19],      should share the grandeur with you.

Charles John Ellicott, Christian Theologian [1819–1905] |  | 1 Corinthians 4:8

     [8] Now ye are full—These three following sentences is      satire. The emphasis is on the word “now.”

You are already [as distinct from us Apostles] full, rich, kings.

     You act as if you had already attained the crowning point      in the Christian course.

     “Piety is an insatiable thing,” says Chrysostom on this      passage, “and it argues a childish mind to imagine from      just the beginnings that you have attained the whole; & for      men who are not even yet in the prelude of a matter to be      high-minded, as if they had laid hold of the end.

     Without us—The Apostle would have his converts be to him      as his crown of rejoicing; but they now assume to have      “come into the kingdom” without any connection with      HIM who had won them to GOD.

     And I would to GOD—Here the irony is dropped, & these      words are written with intense feeling & humility.

     The Apostle, reminded, as it were, by the word “reign,”      that the time will come when the war & controversies of the      Church militant shall end, expresses his deep longing for      that blessed change [See 1Corinthians 3:22; 1Corinthians      9:23, where similarly the Apostle shows that in rebuking      the folly of the Corinthian Church eh does not      under-estimate their privileges].

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Joseph Benson, English Methodist [1749–1821] |  | 1 Corinthians 4:8

     Now you are full — The Corinthians abounded with spiritual      gifts; & so did the apostles.

     But the apostles, by continual want & sufferings, were      preserved from self-complacency.

     The Corinthians suffered nothing; & having plenty of all      things, were pleased with & applauded themselves.

     And they were like children who, being raised in the world,      disregard their poor parents.

     Now you are full, says the apostle, in a beautiful      gradation; you are rich; you have reigned as kings — A      proverbial expression, denoting the most splendid &      plentiful circumstances; without us — That is, without any      thought of us; or, by the ministry of your own teachers,      without our help.

     And I would to GOD you did reign — In the best sense: I      would you had attained to an eminence of grace & holiness      as well as of gifts; that we also might reign with you —      Might have no more sorrow on your account.

Matthew Henry, Nonconformist Minister [1662-1714] |  | 1 Corinthians 4:7-13

           1 Corinthians 4:7-13 | For who makes you so superior?            What do you have that you did not receive? And if you            did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?

           Already you have all you want.            Already you have become rich.

           Without us, you have become kings.

           How I wish you really were kings, so that we might            be kings with you. For it seems to me that GOD has            displayed us apostles at the end of the procession,            like prisoners appointed for death.

           We have become a spectacle to the whole world, to            angels as well as to men. We are fools for CHRIST,            but you are wise in CHRIST.

           We are weak, but you are strong.            You are honored, but we are dishonored.

           To this very hour we are hungry & thirsty, we are            poorly clothed, we are brutally treated, we are            homeless. We work hard with our own hands.

           When we are vilified, we bless; when we are            persecuted, we endure it; when we are slandered,            we answer gently.

           Up to this moment we have become the scum of the            earth, the refuse of the world.

     4:7-13 We have no reason to be proud; all we have, or are,      or do, that is good, is owing to the free & rich grace of GOD.

     A sinner snatched from destruction by sovereign grace      alone, must be very absurd & inconsistent, if proud of      the free gifts of GOD.

     Paul sets forth his own circumstances, [v.9].

     Allusion is made to the cruel spectacles in the Roman games;      men were forced to cut one another to pieces, to divert the      people; & where the victor did not escape with his life,      though he should destroy his adversary, but was only kept      for another combat, & must be killed at last.

     The thought that many eyes are upon believers, when      struggling with difficulties or temptations, should      encourage constancy & patience.

     We are weak, but YOU are strong.

     All Christians are not alike exposed.      Some suffer greater hardships than others.

     The apostle enters into particulars of their sufferings.

     And how glorious the charity & devotion that carried them      through all these hardships!

     They suffered in their persons & characters as the worst &      vilest of men; as the very dirt of the world, that was to      be swept away: nay, as the off scouring of all things,      the dross of all things.

          And every one who would be faithful in           CHRIST JESUS, must be           prepared for poverty & contempt.

     Whatever the disciples of CHRIST suffer from men,      they must follow the example, & fulfill the will &      precepts of their LORD.

     They must be content, with HIM & for HIM, to be despised &      abused. It is much better to be rejected, despised, & ill used, as      Paul was, than to have the good opinion & favour of the world.

     Though cast off by the world as vile, yet we may be      precious to GOD, gathered up with HIS own hand, & placed      upon HIS throne.

Albert Barnes, American Theologian [1798-1870] |  | 1 Corinthians 4:8

     Now ye are full - It is generally agreed that this is      spoken in irony, & that it is an indignant sarcasm uttered      against the false & self-confident teachers in Corinth.

     The design is to contrast them with the apostles; to show      how self-confident & vain the false teachers were, & how      laborious & self-denying the apostles were; & to show to      them how little claim they had to authority in the church,      & the real claim which the apostles had from their      self-denials & labors.

     The whole passage is an instance of most pungent & cutting      sarcasm, & shows that there may be occasions when irony      may be proper, though it should be rare.

     An instance of cutting irony occurs also in regard to the      priests of Baal, in 1 Kings 18:27].

     The word translated "ye are full" [κεκορεσμένοι      kekoresmenoi] occurs only here, & in Acts 27:38,

           "And when they had eaten enough.            It is usually applied to a feast, & denotes            those who are satiated or satisfied.

           So here it means,            "You think' you have enough.

     You are satisfied with your conviction of your own knowledge,      & do not feel your need of anything more.

     Ye are rich - This is presenting the same idea in a      different form. "You esteem yourselves to be rich in      spiritual gifts, & graces, so that you do not feel the      necessity of any more.

     Ye have reigned as kings - This is simply carrying      forward the idea before stated; but in the form of a climax.

The 1st metaphor is taken from persons "filled with food;"

2nd from those who are so rich that they do not feel their lack of more;

3rd from those who are raised to a throne, the highest elevation, where there was nothing further to be reached or desired.

     And the phrase means, that they had been fully satisfied      with their condition & attainments, with their knowledge &      power, that they lived like rich men & princes - 

          revelling, as it were, on           spiritual enjoyments,

          & disdaining all foreign influence,           & instruction, & control.           & instruction, & control.

     Without us - Without our counsel & instruction.

     You have taken the whole management of matters on      yourselves without any regard to our advice or authority.

     You did not feel your need of our aid; & you did not      regard our authority.

     You supposed you could get along as well without us      as with us.

     And I would to GOD you did reign - Many interpreters have      understood this as if Paul had really expressed a wish that      they were literal princes, that they might afford      protection to him in his persecution & troubles.

     Thus, Grotius, Whitby, Locke, Rosemuller, & Doddridge.

     But the more probable interpretation is, that Paul here      drops the irony, & addresses them in a sober, earnest      manner.

     It is the expression of a wish that they were as truly      happy & blessed as they thought themselves to be.

     "I wish that you were so abundant in all      spiritual improvements; I wish that you had made such      advances that you could be represented as full, & as rich,      & as princes, needing nothing, that when I came I might      have nothing to do but to partake of your joy.

     So Calvin, Lightfoot, Bloomfield.It implies:

[1] A wish that they were truly happy & blessed;

[2] A doubt implied whether they were then so; &,

[3] A desire on the part of Paul to partake of their real & true joy, instead of being compelled to come to them with the language of rebuke & admonition [see 1 Corinthians 4:19, 1 Corinthians 4:21]

Expositor's Greek Testament, William R. Nicoll [1897-1910] |  | 1 Corinthians 4:8

     1 Corinthians 4:8 depicts the unjustifiable “glorying” of      the readers with an abruptness due to excited feeling      [the asyndeton of 1 Corinthians 3:16]:

     “How much you have received, & how you boast of it!       So soon you are satiated!” etc.

     The three first clauses—ἤδη, ἤδη, f1χωρὶς κ.

     .λ—are exclamations rather than questions [W.H[703]].

     Distinguish ἤδη, jam, by this time; νῦν, nunc, at this time      [1 Corinthians 3:2, etc].

      ἄρτι, in præsenti, modo, just now or then, at the moment      [1 Corinthians 13:12, etc].  κεκορεσμένοι ἐστέ [κορέννυμι, to glut, feed full; in      cl[704] Gr[705] poetical, becoming prose in κοινή; for      tense-form, 1 Corinthians 1:10, ἦτε κατηρτ.

      “So soon you have had your fill [are quite satisfied]!

      The Corinthians reported themselves, in the Church Letter,       so well fed by Paul’s successors, so furnished in talent       & grace, that they desired nothing more—

      ἤδη ἐπλουτήσατε [as before]:       “So soon you grew rich!” The Thanksgiving

      [1 Corinthians 1:5] & the list of charisms in [12].

       appear to justify this consciousness of wealth; but        ostentation corrupted; riches;

         spiritual satiety is a sign of arrested growth

      [contrast Philippians 3:10-14, & Revelation 3:17,       “Thou sayest, ὅτι Πλούσιός εἰμί καὶ πεπλούτηκα”.

      The climax of this sad irony is χωρὶς ἡμῶν ἐβασιλεύσατε

          “Without us [without our help]            you have come to your kingdom!

     Paul was given to understand, by some, that they      had outgrown his teaching: “Then,” He says, “you have      surely entered the promised kingdom & secured its      treasures, if GOD’s stewards have nothing more to      impart to you! I only wish you had!”

     So he continues in the words       “Ay, I would indeed that you had entered the kingdom,      that we too might share it with you!

      It is Paul’s sigh for the end can only relate to       the Messianic reign

     [1 Corinthians 4:20, 1 Corinthians 6:9; 1 Corinthians 15:50       Luke 22:28; Luke 6:2 below; the judicial assumptions       of the square with this]; & the “state” is inceptive

      —not “you reigned,” but “became kings” [ἐβασιλεύσατε].

     This, of course, can only come about when CHRIST returns      [see 1 Corinthians 1:7; 1 Corinthians 1:9, & notes]; then      HIS saints will share HIS glory [2 Timothy 2:10]—

     It marks, with following an impracticable wish; [to be sure]      accentuates the personal feeling.

     Πλουτέω, βασιλεύω remind us again of Stoic pretensions; see      note, 1 Corinthians 3:22.

[magmasliveblogs]

1.26

aaaaaaaaaand im back! to recap: last chapter the workers played chess and klb died defending  erin from goblins! now, lets see how this progresses! 

Silence. Erin walked in it. It was the numbing static in her head. It was the sound of tears falling in her heart. It was everything.

She walked in the darkness. Short, narrow walls of dirt enclosed her. She followed a massive shape as it led her through the tunnels.

Noise. Erin still heard it echoing in her memories.

tunnels? is she in the hive? 

“Klbkch? Summon the Captain! Get a [Healer], now!”

“—Not breathing. Contact his hive! Get the Human out of the way!”

“Klb? Buddy? Speak to me.”

“—Human. What have you done?”

Erin looked up. She was standing in a massive cavernous room. Across from her, something sat in the shadows. The Queen of the Antinium under Liscor.

The gargantuan figure moved. Erin couldn’t see. It was so dark. But she caught a glimpse of a massive, bloated body and bulbous backside. The massive Queen of the Antinium was so huge she couldn’t move from her spot.

The Queen raised one massive foreleg. She wasn’t like her subjects who looked vaguely humanoid. The Queen was completely insectile, and her wide, faceted eyes glowed with dim orange-red light as they focused on the human before her.

“Your name is Erin Solstice. I have summoned you to explain the death of my subject to me.”

Erin looked at the Queen. She didn’t know what to say. Her chest was hurting, but her heart was already broken. They’d taken his body away. She felt like she was still dying. She couldn’t feel the pain, it was so great.

well erin is speaking with the queen 

The Queen gestured behind Erin. She pointed to the two silent giants flanking the doors.

“Do not fear my soldiers. They will cause you no harm.”

Erin glanced over her shoulder. She’d been grabbed in the midst of the confusion. A group of giant Antinium had swept her out of the guard barracks against her will and the protests of the other guards. Now, they silently watched her.

The two guards that stood in the back of the massive chamber were giants among Antinium. Unlike Klbkch or the Workers, these Antinium were nearly twice their size, with massive forearms and spiked, sharp gauntlets formed of their exoskeleton.

What was strangest and scariest about them was that they held no weapons. Instead, their four arms were bent and they appeared to be ready at any moment to leap on Erin. Their hands—Erin saw their hands had no real digits, just awkward stumps and tearing barbs. These Antinium were clearly soldiers, built for war.

“Erin Solstice. I hold you accountable for the death of Klbkchhezeim.”

Erin looked back at the Queen. She opened her mouth and didn’t know what to say. There was nothing. The silence in her was too large for words.

But she had to speak.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for it to happen.”

The Queen loomed above her. Her deep voice deepened further.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Erin shook her head.

“I don’t—I can’t say sorry enough. Klbkch—he died protecting me. He was a hero. I’m so sorry.”

The Queen silently watched as Erin wiped at her eyes. She raised a single leg.

“Human. You misunderstand me. Klbkch’s death in itself means little to me. Individuals die in service to the whole. That is natural. But his death was wasted—needless. I am told he perished fighting Goblins. That is what I find unacceptable.”

“…What?”

“Klbkchhezeim was more than a match for a hundred Goblins. If he were by himself and failed thusly I would eliminate his memory from the Hive in an instant. But even so, his foolishness has cost the Antinium living within the city greatly.”

Erin stared at the Queen in shock. In turn, she felt the giant Antinium’s eyes piercing her to the core.

“I am disappointed, Erin Solstice. I had expected better of my Prognugator’s judgment. He spoke highly of you. Klbkch called you a Human worthy of emulation. But I see nothing to back up his claims. I see no reason why he would have wasted his life saving you.”

What? Erin’s head felt fuzzy. What was she saying?

The Queen continued. It was hard to discern emotion in her monotone rumble, but there was a definite element of irritation in her voice.

“My Workers play games in their resting periods. They gain useless levels in classes not needed for their work. Three have already become Aberration. This experiment has created naught but waste. My Prognugator’s judgement has been in error.”

Erin struggled for words.

“He—he was only doing what I asked him to. He was helping. He saved my life.”

She felt the titanic gaze on her. Erin had to look down. She couldn’t meet the Queen’s eyes.

“Nevertheless. Klbkch died a failure.”

Erin’s head rose. She stared at the Queen.

“Take that back.”

The Queen’s presence beat down on Erin, but this time she refused to look away.

“I will not. My Prognugator’s foolishness has cost Liscor and the Antinium this day. He died a failure.”

“He was a hero!”

Erin shouted at the Queen. The guards behind her stirred, but the Queen raised one foreleg.

“He died worthless, against enemies he should easily have overcome. He died a failure.”

“No. He died free.”

The Queen paused. She stared down at Erin.

“Klbkchhezeim said that? Then he is a fool as well as failure. We Antinium are not free.”

Erin stared up at the Queen. The massive insect regarded her, and then looked away. She flicked one foreleg at her.

“You do not understand. You, the creatures of the above world fail to understand all of what is Antinium. Enough. I waste valuable time.”

Erin was shaking. The two Antinium soldiers marched up to her, but she stepped forwards towards the Queen.

“Why’d you summon me then? To tell me how worthless Klbkch was? He wasn’t. You’re wrong.”

The soldiers seized her roughly. The Queen gestured, and they released her.

“You are not what we seek. You cannot understand. Begone from this place, Erin Solstice. I have much to do.”

The Queen slowly turned away towards the far wall. Erin was dragged out of the cavern by the two soldiers. She wanted to say something, anything, to the Queen of the Antinium. But she could think of nothing.

well the ants dont like erin 

Erin walked out of the entrance to the Antinium tunnels and back into the light of the day. She blinked, shading her eyes. The two Antinium soldiers turned and left without a word. She was alone.

For a moment. Even as Erin looked around another Drake walked up to her. He was the yellow gatekeeper Drake.

“Human. You’re wanted by the Captain. Follow me.”

Erin walked after him without a word of protest. As she walked down the street she was conscious of people watching her as she passed by. Some murmured and pointed. Others flinched away.

She realized she was still covered in blood. Hers, the Goblin’s and Klbkch’s.

The yellow Drake stopped when he realized Erin wasn’t following him. He turned and opened his mouth angrily until he saw her throwing up. Silently, he passed her a water bottle and cloth. Erin wiped her face and rinsed her mouth. She walked on.

yeah, i feel thats a worthy reaction 

The guard barracks was full of quiet voices and one loud one. They all fell silent when Erin entered. She looked around, and saw a blur pushing his way through the crowd of guardsmen.

Two Drakes tried to grab Relc, but he shoved them aside like they were made of paper. More grabbed him as Relc loomed over Erin.

“You.”

She looked up at him. Relc snarled at her. His tail was thrashing around and his fists were clenched at his side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry? Klbkch died protecting you! All because you didn’t want to kill those damn Goblins!”

“I know.”

“This is all your fault.”

“I know.”

Erin stared at the ground. Relc stepped forward and the other guardsmen all tensed. But he didn’t attack. Instead, he took a deep breath and spoke with a trembling voice.

“I had a good partner. He was a silent guy and a real idiot, but he was one of the best guys I knew. And then he died because he went and tried to protect a damn Human.”

“I’m sorry.”

Relc narrowed his eyes as he stared down at Erin.

“I don’t want to see you around here again. And if you come running here for help again I’ll stab you in the gut. Got it?”

Erin looked up at Relc. His thrashing tail stopped dead as he saw her wipe away the tears in her eyes.

“Yeah. You do that.”

She walked over to a seat and sat down. Tears began flowing from her eyes once more. Relc hesitated. He turned away and kicked a chair. It exploded in a shower of splinters.

Erin barely noticed as the pieces of wood rained down around her. She covered her face with her hands, but the tears leaked through her fingers. She heard a door open, and a loud, female voice.

“You! Human!”

Erin barely moved. The other Guardsmen moved aside as a female Drake advanced. She marched up to Erin. She glared down and snapped.

“Thanks to you, the fourth-strongest Guardsman in the city is dead. Not only that, he died because he wasted his emergency healing potion on you.”

Erin didn’t look up.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the Captain of the Liscorian watch. Klbkch was one of my best Senior Guardsman. Without him, there’s no one to control the Antinium.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

The Captain’s tail twitched.

“Really? Is that all? From what I’m told, Klbkch had to protect you from a mob of Goblins. You’re no citizen. He should have let them eat you.”

“I guess so.”

Erin didn’t look up. The Captain’s eyes were narrowed in fury and her tongue flicked out. She hissed.

“The Liscorian Guard should never have interfered themselves in the affairs of outsiders. You don’t live in Liscor and you are not one of their citizens. From here on out, the Watch will cease patrols in your area.”

The Captain of the Watch glared at the young woman holding her head in her hands. Erin didn’t look up.

“Is that understood, Human?”

No response. The female Drake’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I said, is that understood, Human?”

“You done?”

Erin looked up. Her eyes were red, but she’d stopped crying. She met the Captain’s gaze without flinching.

The female Drake stared at her. She had a scar on the left side of her face. Her scales were light blue. Her eyes were yellow and narrowed with rage. She held Erin’s gaze and then turned away in disgust.

“Get out of my city.”

The Captain slammed the door shut behind her. In the silence, Erin looked around the room at the other guardsmen.

“Klbkch died protecting me. He was a hero. He looked out for me when no one else would, and he helped me even though I’m a human. He was a good person. I’m sorry that he’s dead.”

She looked at Relc. He looked away.

Erin wiped at her eyes and then walked out of the room.

erin is just not having a good day 

Selys found Erin sitting next to Krshia’s stall in the marketplace. The human had curled up into a ball and was hiding her head in her arms.

“Hi? Erin? Are you—are you okay?”

“Go away.”

Erin didn’t look up. Selys hesitated, and then came to stand by the stall.

“Hi Krshia. Um, how’re you?”

The Gnoll shopkeeper sniffed and nodded without smiling to Selys.

“Miss Selys. I am well, but Erin is not. She is resting here, away from unkind words. If you have any you will leave, yes?”

Selys raised one hand as her tail twitched.

“No, not me. I just wanted to see how Erin was doing. I uh, heard what happened.”

“Everyone in the city has heard.”

Krshia nodded. She finished arranging a display of onions.

“It is a dark time. Others mourn, but many are simply upset. The death of Klbkch, it is a bad sign for the city. He was strong. Without him there will be trouble. But it is wrong to blame it all on the Human. So think I and other Gnolls.”

“Really. Really? That’s surprising. I uh, thought you lot would think differently.”

Krshia shrugged. She crushed a rotten onion and tossed it in a bin of refuse behind her with more force than necessary.

“Blood and death. It is not Erin Solstice’s fault where Klbkch chose to fight and die. It is not her fault the Goblins attacked, yes? We do not blame those who are not guilty.”

“That’s good.”

Selys looked at Erin. She wasn’t moving. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Look, Erin, I wanted to talk to you. I know this isn’t a good time, but I don’t think you should go back to your inn. You should stay here, at least for tonight.”

Erin didn’t move. Selys glanced at Krshia. The Gnoll shrugged impassively. Selys tried again.

“I know you felt safe in the inn, but after this things will be different. It isn’t just about Goblins. If the Watch doesn’t patrol the plains, more monsters will start appearing. Without protection or high levels, you won’t survive.”

Again, no response. But then Erin wiped her eyes on her sleeve before she buried her head back down.

“Look—I could get you a job in the Adventurer’s Guild as a receptionist. Some of the others might not like it, but you’d be safe there and you’ll earn enough to eat and live in the city.”

This time Erin moved. She shook her head slightly.

“No.”

Selys opened her mouth, but Krshia placed a huge furry hand on her shoulder and shook her head. She squatted down next to Erin.

“Erin. I regret the loss of Klbkch. He was a strange creature, but a good one, yes? Many in the city mourn his death. But he would not want you to die. And it is death without the Watch to keep monsters away. Know that.”

“And it’s not like you have to stay here forever. We could look into finding you a place in a Human city if you really didn’t like it. It’s just that it’s a bad time to be here. I know it’s not your fault but the others—”

“I’m not going.”

“Look, Erin, I know how you’re feeling but—”

“I’m not going.”

Erin stood up. Her eyes were swollen and red with tears. Her nose was dripping and she wiped her face on her sleeve. She glared at Selys.

“I’m going back.”

“Not a good idea. Those Goblins might still be out there.”

“They’re all dead.”

“But—there’s monsters. Just stay here. I have an apartment. You can stay the night, okay?”

“No.”

“Erin, please.”

Selys wanted to say something else, but she looked over Erin’s shoulder and gasped.

“Oh my—”

Erin turned. The street had gone deathly quiet. Every shopper and shopkeeper in the marketplace was looking in the same direction. They slowly backed away as a procession of dark insects slowly walked through the market.

They weren’t soldier Antinium. They were just Workers, but there were nearly a hundred of them as they slowly walked towards Erin. The group stopped a few feet from her as Selys stepped behind the counter and Krshia sneezed.

uh oh. are they here for vengence? are they abberation? 

Erin looked around. Black-bodied Worker Antinium filled the street. They stood in front of her. Suddenly, they all bowed their heads and the Worker in front spoke.

“These ones offer condolences to the Innkeeper Solstice.”

Selys whispered in a panicked voice to Krshia and Erin.

“What are they doing? They shouldn’t be here! Someone should call the Watch!”

Krshia nudged Selys hard.

“Silence. Listen.”

The Worker continued.

“These ones wish for the Innkeeper Solstice to heal from wounds received. These ones express their regret for her suffering.”

Erin stared at him stupidly.

“Why?”

The leading Worker appeared confused.

“It is part of custom. These ones are taught to express regret/sadness/loss for death.”

“But I didn’t die. What about Klbkch? What about your—friend. The other Worker? He died protecting me.”

The Worker paused, and then shook his head.

“The Prognugator carried out his duties. The Worker died carrying out his duties. No mourning is necessary for broken shells and dead individuals. These ones merely express regret of individual Klbkch’s failure to protect.”

Erin stared at him.

“So you’re saying you’re sorry I got hurt?”

“These ones express regret for the failure of the Prognugator to protect the Innkeeper Solstice.”

“It wasn’t failure. Don’t—don’t say that.”

The Worker bowed his head again.

“This one offers apologies for its mistake.”

“Can’t you feel sorry? For Klbkch? And your friend?”

“This one apologizes. But this one cannot. These ones offer regret to the Innkeeper Solstice.”

Erin waited. But the Worker just kept its head bowed.

“Is that it?”

“Yes. These ones will disperse to assigned duties. Forgive these ones for disturbing the Innkeeper Solstice and others.”

As one, the Workers turned. Erin hesitated.

“Wait.”

They stopped, and turned back to her. She paused, and closed her eyes. Erin took a deep breath, and then looked at the Worker.

“…Come to my inn. I’ll feed you, and you can play chess with me.”

“What? Erin!”

Selys grabbed for her, but Erin was moving. She reached out and touched the lead Worker on the shoulder. He went very still.

“You said you’re sorry? I’m sorry. It was my fault Klbkch and the other Worker died. And that’s a bad thing. Even if you can’t understand it, I want to do something. Let me help you. Somehow.”

The Worker hesitated.

“These ones are not permitted to leave the city or move about without permission.”

“Why not?”

“These ones are not suitable for independent action. These ones must not be unaccompanied.”

“I’ll accompany you. Just—come with me. Please? It doesn’t have to be all of you. What about just you? What’s your name?”

The Worker went deathly still. All the Workers did. Erin looked at them curiously. Selys gasped and ran forward.

“Erin!”

She grabbed the human’s shoulder urgently. Selys whispered loudly in Erin’s ear.

“You never ask them what their names are! They don’t have any!”

“Why not?”

The Worker shuddered and looked at Erin. Selys raised one hand as her tail thrashed wildly.

“They just don’t!”

“This one has no name. This one is not important. This one is not an individual.”

“You could be.”

“Erin!”

This time Selys tried to grab Erin and drag her away. Erin fought her hands off.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

She poked the Worker in the chest.

“You’re an individual. You’re you. And the Worker who died? He was someone. Klbkch was someone. You’re all important, and that means when one of you dies it’s a bad thing.”

The Worker shook his head as the other Workers around him backed away.

“This one is not an individual. This one cannot be.”

“You are. Can’t you understand? You’re all special.”

The Worker froze, and then looked at Erin. Something changed in his eyes.

“This one—I understand. This one has become I.”

Selys gasped in horror. The Worker stared down at his hands and then looked up.

“I understand sorrow. I understand regret for the death of individual Klbkch and Worker.”

“Good.”

Erin didn’t notice the other Workers backing away. The Worker that she’d addressed quivered. His hands opened and closed restlessly. Selys and the other Drakes instantly backed up. Krshia slowly reached below her counter.

“I. I am. I have become I. I do not understand.”

He looked around, up at the sky, at Erin. He shook like a leaf.

“If this one—is not—how are the many one? An individual cannot exist—the many are—how am I?”

He shook. Erin grabbed him.

“I don’t know. I try not to think about it. Come on. Let’s play a game of chess.”

He stared at her. Selys was trembling, and air in the marketplace was tense. But then the Worker nodded.

Erin turned.

“I’m going.”

She began walking out of the marketplace. The Worker followed her, and the rest of the Antinium followed in a silent, winding procession. Selys stared at Erin’s back, eyes wide. She looked at Krshia.

“She’s insane. They’re going to kill her. It’s going to kill her.”

Krshia nodded.

“Yes. Let us follow quickly, yes?”

“What?”

Selys yelped, but Krshia was already gone from behind her counter. She barked something at another Gnoll and strode in the direction the Antinium had gone. Selys stared around at the other wide-eyed Drakes and then ran after Krshia.

this could go very badly for erin. 

The Worker walked behind Erin, and his fellows followed the two in a silent mass. She left the city gates behind, ignoring the Drake shouting at her. She walked as fast as she could, trying not to think, to feel.

Behind her, the Worker shuddered and twitched as he walked. Erin ignored that, but she heard him begin to mutter as he walked along.

“I. I am. But it is wrong. All is wrong. When the many become one, it is Aberration. I am Aberration.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I cannot be individual. I cannot have names. I cannot choose my own actions. It is wrong.”

“Klbkch did it.”

The Worker shook his head. He opened and closed his four hands restlessly.

“He is Prognugator. I am—was Worker. I should not be.”

Erin turned her head.

“You’re fine. You should be. It’s fine to be a person, and not a thing.”

“I cannot understand. I am Aberration. All is Aberration. This Experiment—I cannot accept it.”

“…I’m sorry. But I wanted you to feel something.”

“I feel. I feel all.”

“Good.”

Erin kept walking. But the Worker stopped. He started twitching again, and then his gaze snapped on the back of her head. Slowly, the Worker increased his pace until he was right behind Erin. She didn’t notice, lost in her thoughts.

In the silence, the Worker reached out for Erin as he walked behind her. The other Workers watched as they followed. They said not a word.

“I don’t know what it means to be me.”

Erin said it as she walked along. She didn’t know how to explain it to the Worker. She had to say—something. To tell him what it was like.

“I don’t even know what it means to be human. All I know is that there’s a big hole in my heart. Because Klbkch and the Worker died. I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing. I’m just—sad.”

The Worker paused. His hands hesitated at the back of Erin’s neck.

“Why?”

Erin smiled. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked through the grass.

“I just am. That’s how it works. You don’t get to choose to be someone. You just are. Even if you’re not special. Even if you don’t want to be. You just are.”

He paused. Slowly, the Worker lowered his hands.

“I do not understand. But—I am. And I too am sad.”

“Good. That’s—that’s good.”

Erin sniffed and wiped at her eyes and nose. The Worker slowly walked faster until he was next to her.

“Innkeeper—Erin Solstice. I am sorry for the death of Klbkch and the Worker. I regret their death and your suffering.”

“Thank you.”

They walked on in silence. Eventually, the Worker spoke gain.

“I am no longer a Worker. I am an individual. I would like a name.”

She looked at him.

“I can’t help you. I’m not—I can’t give you one. Couldn’t you ask your Queen?”

He shook his head.

“I—do not wish to. I must have a name. Where may I find one?”

“I don’t know. Can’t you choose one for yourself?”

The Worker paused. He turned his head to Erin and hesitated before nodding.

“I will do so.”

She waited. After a minute of walking, the Worker spoke again.

“I would like to be known as ‘Pawn’. It is a fitting name for this individual.”

Erin nodded. She gave him a weak smile.

“Hi, Pawn.”

“Hello. Erin Solstice.”

“…Will your friends be like you?”

Pawn looked over his shoulder. The other Workers looked away. He bowed his head.

“They are afraid. They will not be like me.”

“That’s fine.”

“But I have told them what it means to regret the passing of individuals. They understand.”

“Really? Good.”

Pawn nodded.

“They—we. We are all sad.”

“…I’m glad.”

They came to the inn on the hill, and the bodies. Erin stared down at the blood and collapsed. She’d forgotten they were still there.

that could have gone very badly for erin 

Pawn caught her before she hit the ground. He helped her up, and Erin sat down while the other Workers surrounded the area. They paused as they surveyed the wreckage of the inn and corpses, and then seemed to come to a decision. As one, the Workers began hauling the corpses away while other of their number began digging several hundred feet away from the inn. More still entered the inn and began dragging out broken wood.

Erin sat in the grass and looked away. She glanced up as one of the Workers dragged out the body of their comrade. Then she threw up.

Eventually, Erin felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She looked up, and saw it was Krshia.

“Erin Solstice. I was looking for you, yes? The Workers, they have finished their cleaning.”

She looked, and saw it was true. The area around the inn was clean. Even the grass had been cleaned with water, and the Workers stood silently around the inn. They were all staring at her.

“Thanks.”

She said it to Pawn, and then to the other Workers. They nodded as one.

“We assist to maintain order and preserve peace.”

“Thank you.”

Krshia stared at the sign above the Wandering Inn. She looked around, and then followed Erin as the human stepped inside.

“So, this is your inn, yes? It looks better than I had thought. Worth defending.”

Erin nodded. She looked around the empty room. The Workers had cleaned it almost to perfection. All the broken chairs and tables were gone. But they hadn’t touched one thing.

A splintered chess piece lay on the floor. Erin slowly walked over to it. It stared up at her, a Drake caught in mid-strike, a spear in his hands.

She looked down at the broken knight piece on the floor, and picked up the base. Carefully, Erin put it in her pocket and looked around. Silent Workers filled the room. More stared through windows.

Erin looked around. She saw the chess board and picked it up. It was heavy in her hands. She remembered sitting at a table and staring at a brown ant across the board.

Her eyes stung, but there weren’t any tears left. Erin brushed at her eyes and then turned with the chess board.

Slowly, Erin brought the board out and set it down in the grass outside the inn. The Antinium formed a huge circle around her, and Pawn stood in the center next to Erin. She sat down, and placed the board in front of her. She gestured, and Pawn hesitated, and then sat opposite her.

Erin looked at him. He was a bit shorter than Klbkch, thinner, and his features were somehow less sharp than Kblkch’s had been. He looked nothing like Klbkch at all, in fact. But her heart still hurt to look at him.

Slowly, Erin put the broken knight on her side of the chess board. Pawn rearranged the pieces on his side. She stared at him. She stared up at the sky. It was too blue, too pristine for a day like this. It wasn’t even night yet.

The sky should be raining blood. The world should be filled with darkness, and the earth should have opened up and swallowed her whole. She should have been paralyzed by sadness, but Erin just felt hollow. She understood nothing. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

And there was nothing she could do about it. So Erin moved a piece on the board. The broken knight moved up to C3. She looked at Pawn. He stared back, and the rest of the Workers stared with him at the human who wept for Antinium.

Erin bowed her head.

“Let’s play chess.”

lets hope erin can use chess to cope this time. 

that the end of the chapter! will any of these workers become abberation? will erin have to fight off a horde? 

see you next post 

[docsamurai]

Sleeping With the Enemy: Eclipse

Weeks pass with the Cullens never far from me before Jacob finally confronted Edward and I in private. He reminds Edward that the wolf tribe and the Vampires will go to war if they bite a human. I could see Jacob seething in anger, knowing full well that the Cullens have left a trail of bodies in their wake miles long but not having the proof needed to convince his elders to risk the lives of his kin. The message was clear, the wolves knew I was with them and would take my disappearance as a declaration of war and Jacob would make it his personal mission to avenge me. I had never been so mad at my friend. I know he meant well but his blundering idiocy could jeopardize my plans and I couldn't let him stand in my way. I needed to find a way to get away from the Cullens and to find a way to tell him everything in secrecy.

More than a month passes with Edward by my side every day as news is reported of murders happening in Seattle. Edward dismissed the news and I could see when I looked into his eyes that he thought I would trust him as though his word were truth. Part of me knew that after a century hunting my kind Edward had so little regard for humans that it must never have even crossed his mind that I might see through his lies. Carlisle might have been the mastermind of the clan but he at least had the decency to respect me as an adversary. I would take personal pleasure in looking into Edward's eyes as the light faded from them.

I couldn't take any more of the overbearing, patronizing bullshit. Thankfully I knew exactly what strings to pull to get what I wanted out of Edward. I told him that I wanted to visit my mother Renee, that it might be the last time I see her while I still lived. Naturally he came along, most likely under strict orders from Carlisle to never leave my side until the wedding day. I at least got to enjoy watching him squirm as he tried desperately to find excuses to stay out of the sun. In a beach House. In Florida.

As my mother and I laid on the beach she half turned to me, eyes closed "Aren't you going to miss this?" For just a moment I thought she might know. That she might somehow have found out everything. "Don't you just feel the Vitamin D soaking up in your pores?" Of course she was just talking about the sunshine. I almost cried in frustration. "Yeah I am gonna miss this…" We made small talk about colleges and she asked about Edward. "You're different with him." "I don't know we're just…" "In love. I get it. I just want to make sure you're making the right choices for you. You're the one that's going to have to live with it." As impossible as it would have been for her to know what Edward was, what I was planning to become to stop him and Carlisle, it sounded like she knew and was trying to tell me.

I couldn't find the words to respond and just like that the moment had passed. My mother had gone back to being cheerful bubbly Renee who had run off to grab a graduation present. She had made a quilt for me of all the old shirts we had collected on our trips through my childhood. It was a symbol of a more innocent time and though I may have to soon give up my soul I would at least be able to carry this to remind myself of what I once was. I hugged her as tight as I could hoping against hope that somehow she knew and somehow she approved.

We returned to Washington and Jacob confronted us again. A vampire had been seen on tribal lands and Edward told me that Victoria had returned and was seeking revenge for her murdered lover James. I had almost forgotten how the Cullens had pinned the murders on James over a year ago and had executed him. His dying screams stayed with me but he had been so unimportant I had forgotten his name. Undoubtedly Carlisle had let his clan get too sloppy in their kills and was now setting up Victoria as well. A part of me wondered if they would get around to painting a target on Laurent's head as well, assuming they hadn't already killed him for his failure.

I needed now more than ever to find time to tell Jacob my plans so that he might stop confronting us in parking lots. Not only was it risking everything, his impotent threats were making me lose faith in him. I would need my wolf allies to have bite to go with their bark. Once again I put on my innocent face and asked him if I could make things right with my old friend. Edward agreed to let me visit the tribal lands while he went out and hunted. To have him so casually admit that he was about to go slake his deadly thirst right to my face enraged me more than I had ever felt in my life. At that moment I don't think I would have needed the supernatural strength to rip him limb from limb. Somehow I calmed myself and let him go. I rushed as fast as I could to Jacob's tribe and being and I tried to tell him. I really did. I tried to tell him everything, but maybe I shouldn't have led with my plan to have Edward turn me into a vampire. Jacob begged me not to change, told me that he loved me, that I wouldn't have to change for him. Jacob, again if you're reading this: you're an idiot. I let my own anger at him get the better of me and stormed off.

It hurt that he would think I would give up my humanity for anyone, or that I was doing it because I was in love. It hurt that so many people, even the ones who knew of this other world, would underestimate me. It hurt most of all that the only one who seemed to even think me as dangerous was the monster leading them all. Was I becoming the same as him? Manipulating people towards my own ends. Seeking power to further my own plots. Treating my oldest friend as either an ally or a hindrance instead of the kind soul who only a few months prior had been there to help drag me from my depression. Like the rest of the Cullens, Carlisle had swept into my life, destroyed everything and left me a shattered husk of humanity driven only by my own bloodlust. I didn't need the change to become a monster, I already was one. My only choice now was to be a better monster than him. I couldn't let the Cullens hurt my family or friends.

I couldn't let them come to open war as that would mean the death of the tribe who had at one point been willing to accept me as one of their own. I decided to give them a common enemy, thankfully the Cullens had already manufactured one for me. I told Edward about the murders and disappearances in Seattle being connected with Victoria. I told him that she must have been raising a Vampire army to take on the Cullens for killing James. I convinced him that if she had an army that the Cullens alone couldn't handle them and would need the help of the wolves, that they would be allies to help keep vampires from overrunning their lands. Turning their own lies against them felt better than anything had felt for a long time.

I spent the next few weeks finding ways to broker peace between the wolves and vampires and finally an alliance was struck. The wolf pack would assist the Cullens to hunt down Victoria and would fight on the same side in the event that she showed up with an army. It was a temporary truce but I had assumed that with graduation and my wedding approaching that it would buy enough time for me to gain the power I needed to fight with my friend. It was the biggest miscalculation I had ever made. Mere days after graduation Victoria appeared with dozens of freshly turned Vampires. I knew Carlisle would call my bluff but I didn't realize how many of his own kind and mine he would sacrifice to prove a point. I can just imagine him screaming to the winds "IF SHE WANTS AN ARMY I'LL GIVE HER A GODDAMN ARMY!"

Edward and Jacob ran with me to the mountains to keep me away from the fighting. The cold mountain air bit into me but it paled in comparison to the realization that I had given Carlisle an excuse to slaughter and turn even more humans. I held Jacob closely trying to keep from losing my mind telling Edward that I just needed the body heat since Edward couldn't provide any. If Edward hadn't been there I would have wept, I would have told Jacob everything, I might have even run off with him but my vampire keeper was watching our every move. Jacob, the dense, horny idiot that he is tried to kiss me. Feeling betrayed that my oldest friend couldn't simply be there for me I showed him the ring Edward gave me. I know it hurt Jacob and right then I didn't care.

To his credit Jacob stayed and when Victoria found us Jacob fought alongside Edward. He might be a fool, he might not understand a damn thing about emotions, but at least Jacob knows when it's time to stand and fight. Victoria nearly had the upper hand for a moment and knowing full well that Edward would not step in to save a wolf I cut my hand letting the smell of my blood drive her into a frenzy and distract her long enough to make a difference. Watching Victoria die, knowing that she was complicit in Carlisle's schemes and that she was being betrayed by her own kind in the end, it renewed my sense of purpose. The Volturi appeared soon after to clean up the remains and kill remaining newly turned vampires, further cementing my theory that Carlisle is either pulling their strings or one of their own.

Jacob ran after the fight, feeling as though I had betrayed his people to the vampires. I was losing my friend and there wasn't anything I could do about it. That night as Edward held me in my bed, keeping a sleepless watch over the traitor in their midst I cried for the first time since the Cullens had come back into my life. I wept openly, not caring who saw or heard. I cried in frustration over the things I had already lost and the things I would soon lose. I cried in pain for my friend who I had hurt knowingly in an act of spite. I cried for the lives that Carlisle had thrown away to keep up a lie. I cried so that I would know that I was still alive, that whatever I would become after being turned that at this moment I was still human and I would be the monster that would make the other monsters pay.

Since then the wedding plans have come together quickly. Whatever Carlisle's game is he wants to get this over with. Today two years of plans come to fruition. Today I will die. Today I can only hope to take my enemies with me. Today is my wedding. You can call me Bella Swan.

[imagine-darksiders]

Horsemen's reactions to meeting their s/o's large family (i.e. a "small" gathering for said family being at LEAST 40-60 people) and being welcomed and accepted as one of their own.

Death: “Death come on! I’ve literally bigged you up to my family so much, they’re all dying to meet you…..no pun intended.” 

You’d been trying to wear Death down slowly over the last few days, asking him to meet the family he’d restored. You’re pretty sure he’s just refusing to spite you. 

“Fine.” He states. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, bewildered.

“I believe the term ‘yes’ only has the one meaning. But then again I could be wrong.” 

You laugh delightedly, phoning your parents and letting them know to set one extra place at the table. 

Arriving at your domicile, you catch Death swivelling his head around, no doubt scoping the place out, looking for any sign of danger. With a groan, you pull him up to the front door, throwing it open and revealing to him the mass of humans waiting inside. Death gripped your shoulder and hissed in your ear, “I thought you told me, ‘just one or two of us’.” You smiled sheepishly, shrugging before making your way into the throng.

“THERE HE IS!” One of your more affectionate uncles came forward, slapping a hand on the horseman’s back, “The hero of the hour! You must be Death. Gotta admit, when Y/n told us she’d be bringing home one of the horsemen of the apocalypse…Well, we were all a little worried, weren’t we?” He addressed a gathering of about 20 others, who all nodded and murmured their agreement. “But then, Y/n told us that you’d…uh, resurrected us? Following that nasty business with the demons and all that.” He began to usher a stiff Death through to the room where you’d all be eating. Death turned to glare hard over his shoulder at you, but again, you simply shrugged and followed everyone through. 

The rest of the family took turns meeting Death, most were wary of shaking his hand, but some did and the rest actually threw their arms around the very uncomfortable horseman, expressing their gratitude for not only restoring humanity, but for keeping you safe as well. Death, for his part, remained cool and polite throughout what he later describes as his ‘ordeal’. 

You grin as some of your younger cousins start to bombard him with their attention, questions flying faster than the old horseman could answer, he looked to you for help and with a laugh, you fight through your family to his side. Death plucked a child from off his leg and placed them gently back onto the floor. “The children aren’t afraid of me.” He stated, almost questioning as you lean against his shoulder. 

“Yeah, that’s because they’re related to me and I’m not afraid of you.” You smile cheekily up at him. “So, how are you finding the rest of the family?” You ask him, a smirk twitching at your lips. 

Death looked pensive for a moment, in truth, this felt……quite nice. It’d been a long time since he’d received such a warm welcome from anyone, let alone humans. Despite himself, he allowed one, small flicker of happiness to flit into the place where he hid his soul. Behind the mask, the horseman looked down at you, as you looked back, you grinned at the smile in his eyes. “So… yeah,” you cough awkwardly, “this is my family. Welcome to it, I guess.” Death was about to retort with a sarcastic ‘whoop-di-do’, but the mocking expression died on his tongue as you heard someone shout ‘GRUBS UP! Guest of honour gets to sit at  the head of the table!’

The ‘Guest of honour’ rolled his eyes in good humour, thinking to himself, that as far a family goes, he really wouldn’t mind being a part of yours. 

War: He’d do anything you asked, and you knew it. You both did. You also both knew that you were taking advantage of that in regards to this. 

“Please War, they know you weren’t to blame for the whole apocalypse thing! My family doesn’t listen to rumours like that!” 

When you first approached War, asking if he’d come to a little gathering your family were planning and asked you to bring a friend, you were worried when he declined straight away. You thought it was because he just didn’t want to, but he confessed that he thought your family would shun him for being to blame for the apocalypse. 

People died but they didn’t forget what happened to them. When humanity was resurrected, after the inevitable panic that ensued, news reports began trying to piece together what had happened. Footage of War was discovered, rumours began to fly, and people had someone to blame. 

The misunderstanding was cleared up thanks to a timely visit from Azrael per your request, (that was weird day for everyone involved, an angel on live television) but there were still those who were out for blood, regardless of who was to blame. You could understand War’s hesitation, not because he feared for his life, but because he knew he’d have to defend himself if the worst came about and it could end with more innocent blood spilled if he wasn’t careful.

Eventually, you convince him that you’ve informed your family of the horseman’s innocence and they’re actually very excited to meet him. So, begrudgingly, he allows you to excitedly walk him up the driveway to your home. You give him a thumbs up and open the door, strolling into the kitchen and meeting your relatives. All eyes turned to War, who stands behind you. He tenses in anticipation, but he needn’t have worried. With a happy laugh, your family all shout various greetings at him, each fighting to be heard over the other. War looks completely dumbfounded as you grab his hand and pull him further into the room, spotting the rest of your family lounging in the other rooms. They wave at you and you return the gestures, happily trying to introduce War to everybody at once. He remains stoic, allowing you to do all of the talking. 

You grin proudly at your family, elated that they were all making such an effort to welcome this potentially dangerous stranger into their midst. After everyone had had a turn at meeting the red rider, you pull him into the living area, finding a space on the sofa and pushing him down onto it, which he surprisingly allowed.

“Y/n’s not wrong about you,” an older cousin leans in to speak to War, “…always said you were the quiet type.” They laugh as War looks to you for an adequate reply. 

“Don’t tease him,” you scold, “This is the first time that you’ve been around so many people, isn’t it War?” 

“It is.” He mutters, casting his eyes over the crowd of people, some of whom are trying hard not to stare. You notice those whose gaze lingers on the horseman, sighing in understanding, you reach out to give him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’ll have to forgive the stares, Big guy. Before 2010, nobody really knew for sure that you were real.” 

Throughout the course of the party, various family members come up to War, curious questions and awed remarks regarding his size. A lot of people mention that he was welcome with them any time he likes and you practically beam at the surprised ‘oh’ that comes out of his mouth. Afterwards, once everyone had bid you two goodbye and made War promise to look after you, you asked him how he found it.

He paused, brow furrowing as he thought. “It was….not what I’m used to.” He began, rubbing some crumbs of food left behind by a messy youngster from his cloak, “But it was…..good.” War finished lamely, grimacing down at you apologetically for his lack of a more elaborate answer. You just tilt a smile up at him and pat his large hand comfortingly. 

“That’s good enough for me, Big guy.” 

Fury: “I’d love to!” Fury exclaims. 

“You…you would?” you reply, incredulously. 

“But of course, you really thought I would pass up the chance to meet the people who raised you? You’ve met my family, again I apologise for that, it seems only fitting I met yours.” She looks down at you with an expectant smile. You simply beam back up at her, not sure what you’d been worried about. 

“Oh thanks Fury! Man, it’d’ve been really awkward if I turned up without you.” 

“Oh?” she coaxed, “Have I been the topic of discussion amongst you then?” At your sudden blush, her face erupted into a broad and satisfied grin. You shook your head and shooed her out the door, grabbing your bag on the way. 

You arrive at the house in good time, Fury seems to be buzzing with excitement as you near the door, glancing around at everything, letting out soft sounds of intrigue at the toys scattered across the lawn. You usher her around to the back garden, where you can already smell the barbecue and hear the dulcet tone of many people talking at once. Rounding the side of the house, Fury bounds ahead of you and throws herself at the first person she sees, who just so happens to be your parent. Taking up an astonished hand, she pumps it up and down in the traditional human greeting you’d taught her. She looks so proud of herself you can’t quite stop the laugh that escapes your throat. At the sound, everyone turns to see who’s arrived. 

You go to stand beside Fury as she releases the hand she’d been shaking in favour of putting it around your waist. You can feel the twitch of her fingers every now and again. 

There’s a beat of silence, then the whole family starts moving in towards you both, they look almost as intrigued as Fury does. 

“Hello! You must be Fury.” 

“Y/n’s told us so much about you.” 

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you!” 

Fury exclaims in surprise at the sudden horde of people filling her vision, but she doesn’t seemed at all disturbed or uncomfortable. Instead, she opts to introduce herself, rather than have you do it for her. She impressed everyone by correctly recalling all of their names after they were done with introductions. You do your best to keep a close eye on her, but somewhere, somehow she’s swept up into your family crowd, last you saw her she was by the bbq. Making your way over, you catch her engaging in an animated conversation with your grandparents. With a sudden surge of affection, you find you’re extremely grateful to her for making such a remarkable effort to get to know your family. 

Fury spots you regarding her with something akin to adoration and waves you over. You start, blushing at having been caught staring, but move to stand next to her as she reaches up to brush a piece of dirt of your sleeve. 

“I’ve been hearing all about what you were like when you were younger.” She gave you a teasing jab in the ribs, making you squirm out of her grip with a breathless laugh. 

“Oh yeah? Learn anything good?” You prompt, but she just lifts a finger to tap against the side of her nose secretively. You can’t help but wonder what she had been hearing about you. 

As the day went on, Fury became familiar with each and every member of your decidedly large family. They all wanted to know more about her and she was more than happy to oblige their curiosity. She was polite and charming, articulate and amicable throughout the entire thing. 

When it came time to leave, you gave a pleasantly surprised huff of laughter as family members came up to her for a hug goodbye. It seemed she’d made a lasting impression, as they all asked you to bring your ‘delightful girlfriend’ back for another visit very soon. 

She strolls out of the house with a swaying gait, thoroughly out-socialised for one day. Slotting her arm loosely through one of your own, she chews at her lip for a moment before speaking. “Your family are quite possibly the most delightful bunch of beings I’ve met in a very long time, Y/n.”

You flash her a bright, if a little tired, smile, humming in acknowledgement and whispering out a word of ‘thanks’ to the horseman walking alongside you. 

“Why are you thanking me?” She falters.

“Well, because you were brilliant. With everyone. You didn’t have to be, I know you probably had things you’d rather be doing but-” She cut you off with a cross sounding huff. 

“Y/n, I was elated when you asked me to meet your family. I fell deeply in love with them all the moment I met them, as I did with you. Don’t think for a moment, that there is anything better that I could have been doing than that.” At her words, you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from feeling too much infatuation with the horseman beside you. Opting instead to lean bodily against her, sighing contentedly.  

Strife: Incidentally, Strife was the one to bring it up. 

“So, when are you gonna introduce me to the family?” He asked, “I mean, obviously you’ve told em all about me, right? Bout how I saved you from demons and kept you alive all this time etc?” 

“Yeah, still don’t know how that whole ‘you’ve been alive for a hundred years’ thing works…” you mutter, recalling the words of an ancient maker you’d met on your adventure with Strife. Apparently, time didn’t follow the same rules in other realms as your own. Neither did the ageing process, it seemed. 

“Actually, I’m glad you mentioned it,” you look up at him from your spot on the bed where you were both lounging, “because the whole family is having a big gathering tonight. Kind of like a celebration at being alive….again.” 

“Well damn! Why didn’t you say so!?” He shot up, grabbing you and swinging you down off your bed and onto your feet. “We better get going!” 

You laugh at his enthusiasm, “Didn’t figure you for the social type.” You smirk up at him, teasingly. 

“Well, when there’s a whole group of people who see you as a hero, you tend to enjoy being a social caterpillar.” He puffs up his chest proudly. 

“That’d be a social butterfly,” you correct him, “Come on then ‘hero’. Let’s get this over with.” 

Upon arriving, Strife seemed to grow restless on the way to the door. You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. “What’s wrong buddy? Worried they’re not going to like you?” He shakes his head, shooting you a self-assured wink. 

“Pfft, that’ll be the day.” 

Before you can retort, the door flies open and at least 5 pairs of hands pull you into a suffocating, multi-bodied hug. Strife hung back while you were bombarded with excited relatives, all eager to see you. You somehow manage to blurt out that you’d brought the infamous Strife home with you, at which point the horseman in question became the sole focus of everyone’s attention. 

And he revelled in it. 

“Good Lord! You’re so tall!” One aunt cried. 

“I’ve been dying to see these guns Y/n mentioned, may I?” 

“Used to think you guys were a fairytale, gotta say, up close you’re damn cool looking.” 

Strife glowed under the attention, taking the opportunity to show off and let all your relatives know how lucky you were that he came along to rescue you. He regaled them with (tall) tales of your mighty undertakings, at one point, he’d been cornered by the children who were completely enamoured with his storytelling and general badassery. The youngsters in your family decided that they had what it takes to bring down a fully grown horseman, who was not helping matters by insisting that ‘Nu uh, they couldn’t.’ 

You watched on fondly as Strife allowed himself to be defeated by his ‘mighty adversaries’, who all thought it was great fun to grab his legs and try to off balance him. With an almighty crash, Strife fell backwards onto the floor, drawing the concerned glances of a few adults and delighted squeals from the kids. He lay there on the floor, unmoving as you shake your head and stalk over to him. 

“Strife?” You urge, kicking him softly in the arm. 

“He can’t hear you! He’s dead!” Declared one young cousin. 

“Ugh, fine! Strife’s ghost?” You quip. 

“Yello.” Strife murmers through closed lips, eliciting delighted giggles from his tiny audience. 

“Oh my God, you are such a goof. Supper’s ready.” You grab his arm and start tugging him upright. He gets up and follows you to the table, squeezing himself into the tiny chair next to you. He glares at you as you stifle a laugh at the sight of him sitting awkwardly around a family dinner table, for added measure, he kicks you gently under it. You return fire and the little duel continues until one of your aunts leans across to you, gesturing very unsubtly at Strife. “So, Y/n. Your, um…Friend here. He’s cute? Are you two uh-...” You nearly spit your drink as Strife bursts out into laughter, slapping you on the back.

“Oh God, don’t. It’ll go straight to his head, he’s hard enough to live with as it is.” You scold her playfully, ignoring Strife’s indignant scoff. 

The evening passes relatively smoothly after that. Strife once again does a wonderful job of entertaining everybody, often at your own expense. But you don’t mind. Because honestly, seeing him like this? Surrounded by people you love, people you hope will come to love him, it’s an incredible feeling. One that leaves you wistful and ruminative. You knew he’d been having second thoughts about meeting everyone, although he’d never admit it out loud. But now, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. 

Your family had welcomed Strife with open arms and he was tenderly moved by the gesture. When conversation dwindled into smaller groups and you and he were left with a quiet moment to yourselves, Strife turned to fix you with a satisfied grin. “Hey,” he nudged you with his elbow, “Thanks for sharing this with me.” 

Returning the grin, you bump your shoulder into his bicep, “Anytime buddy.” 

[dailybiblelessons]

The Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Revised Common Lectionary Proper 16 Roman Catholic Proper 21

Complementary Hebrew Scripture Lesson from the Latter Prophets: Isaiah 51:1-6

Listen to me, you that pursue righteousness,  you that seek the Lord. Look to the rock from which you were hewn,  to the quarry from which you were dug. Look to Abraham your father  and to Sarah who bore you; for he was but one when I called him,  I blessed him and made him many. For the Lord will comfort Zion;  he will comfort all her waste places, and will make her wilderness like Eden,  her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness will be found in her,  thanksgiving and the voice of song.

Listen to me, my people,  and give heed to me, my nation; for a teaching will go out from me,  and my justice for a light to the peoples. I will bring near my deliverance swiftly,  my salvation has gone out  and my arms will rule the peoples; the coastlands wait for me,  and for my arm they hope. Lift up your eyes to the heavens,  and look at the earth beneath; for the heavens will vanish like smoke,  the earth will wear out like a garment,  and those who live on it will die like gnats; but my salvation will be forever,  and my deliverance will never be ended.

Semi-continuous Hebrew Scripture Torah Lesson: Exodus 1:8-2:10

Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.¹ He said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we. Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, or they will increase and, in the event of war, join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land.” Therefore they set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labor. They built supply cities, Pithom and Rameses, for Pharaoh. But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread, so that the Egyptians came to dread the Israelites. The Egyptians became ruthless in imposing tasks on the Israelites, and made their lives bitter with hard service in mortar and brick and in every kind of field labor. They were ruthless in all the tasks that they imposed on them.

The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shiphrah and the other Puah, “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.” But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live. So the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and said to them, “Why have you done this, and allowed the boys to live?” The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them.” So God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied and became very strong. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families. Then Pharaoh commanded all his people, “Every boy that is born to the Hebrews you shall throw into the Nile, but you shall let every girl live.”

Now a man from the house of Levi went and married a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a fine baby, she hid him three months. When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it. When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him, “This must be one of the Hebrews' children,” she said. Then his sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, “Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Yes.” So the girl went and called the child's mother. Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed it. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

¹Stephen mentions this in his defense before the Sanhedrin in Acts 7:1-53.

Complementary Psalm 138

I give you thanks, O Lord, with my whole heart;  before the gods I sing your praise; I bow down toward your holy temple  and give thanks to your name for your steadfast love and your faithfulness;  for you have exalted your name and your word  above everything. On the day I called, you answered me,  you increased my strength of soul.

All the kings of the earth shall praise you, O Lord,  for they have heard the words of your mouth. They shall sing of the ways of the Lord,  for great is the glory of the Lord. For though the Lord is high, he regards the lowly;  but the haughty he perceives from far away.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble,  you preserve me against the wrath of my enemies; you stretch out your hand,  and your right hand delivers me. The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me;  your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.

Semi-continuous Psalm 124

If it had not been the Lord who was on our side  —let Israel now say— if it had not been the Lord who was on our side,  when our enemies attacked us, then they would have swallowed us up alive,  when their anger was kindled against us; then the flood would have swept us away,  the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone  the raging waters.

Blessed be the Lord,  who has not given us  as prey to their teeth. We have escaped like a bird  from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken,  and we have escaped.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,  who made heaven and earth

New Testament Epistle Lesson: Romans 12:1-8

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness.

New Testament Gospel Lesson: Matthew 16:13-20

There are parallel passages at Mark 8:27-36 and Luke 9:18-21.

Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Year A Ordinary 21, RCL Proper 16, Catholic Proper 21 Sunday

Selections are from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings copyright © 1995 by the Consultation on Common Texts. Unless otherwise indicated, Bible text is from New Revised Standard Version Bible (NRSV) copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Image Credit: Who? image from via The Vanderbilt Divinity Library,.

[artificialqueens]

From Me To You (Laskianna, Alaska x Tatianna) - Albatross

AN: Thank you @fannyatrollop for beta-ing! Note: this is not a historical AU, its based loosely off of the world building of Diana Wynne Jones in ‘Conrad’s Fate’ minue the modern appliances and magic of course.

When Tatianna first met Alaska it was for no more than a few minutes, so it was no surprise she hardly had any memory of the girl other than a foggy image of a tall, lanky blonde who intimidated her ever so slightly simply because she was a few years older than herself. At that point Tatianna must have been about 11 or 12, still young enough to be overwhelmed by the massive party her parents had dragged her to and then again by the composed young lady who was already a teenager and seemed infinitely more mature in Tatianna’s eyes than her parents’.

The brunette had a distinct memory of clutching onto her dress as she gave the older girl a shy smile while their fathers introduced them. Even then Tatianna could see that their parents’ friendship with one another ran quite deep and they had high expectations that the same would be true for their offspring. At the time of that particular party neither had any inkling of the changes that were soon to unfold for each of their families. Each would experience a very different kind of success though; ones that would separate the families for years to come but that was all in the not-so-distant future still. For now they were attending a rousing party at a mutual friend’s estate and mingling with other colleagues they rarely had a chance to see otherwise.

Travel was somewhat inconvenient; unless you had a number of fast horses, it was likely that even your closest neighbor was still almost a day’s walk away from where you lived, unless of course you happened to have settled near a town. These people, though far from the nobility that rules over various principalities in the land, were still wealthy enough to have been able to purchase large tracts of land to build their homes and settle their families in. Living in town meant more social interaction but also meant a certain lack of privacy that distance and money provided. So most tended to live within a day or so’s ride from a nearby town or two but still remain far enough away from that community to avoid becoming the targets of any unwanted gossip.

And all the families here had found the beginnings of their fortune either through military or business success. Tatianna and Alaska’s family were the same in that regard. While Alaska’s father had a certain military prowess that earned him recognition and favor from the upper-upper class, Tatianna’s father worked hard applying his knowledge to certain investment ventures that had already slowly begun paying out. Even one of his latest investments had proved more lucrative than initially expected and in celebration of that he had bought Tatianna a new, personally tailored dress, an unheard of luxury for her at that time.

Putting on the piece and having even grown women’s eyes on her in appreciation of the garment was an unusual experience for her, especially considering she was so young still. Yet as she met Alaska she recalled that out of everyone, she had hoped most of all that she impressed the reserved, polite teenager in front of her. There was a kind smile on the blonde’s lips but no matter how hard Tatianna searched her mind at a later date, she could not remember if she ever actually heard Alaska speak that evening.

Their parents had done most of the talking themselves and as their fathers caught up on recent events in their lives, their mothers swooped in and took charge of introducing their daughters to other young guests that had been brought to the party by their parents. In large part these events served two purposes; for the adults it was a chance to socialize and maintain friendships with other members of their class while for their offspring, the primary goal was to introduce them to one another in the hopes that an interest in marriage would one day develop and of course, begin their networking for when they reached adulthood.

But the thought of marriage was still a ways off for either young lady.

They didn’t see each other again that night and soon Tatianna had forgotten about the blonde, particularly by the next day when her tutor picked up with her schooling once again. Then in just a few short months, Tatianna overheard her father lamenting the fact that his close friend was being called off to war. Though it wasn’t uncommon for there to military work that needed done throughout most of the years, this time what was expected of Alaska’s dad turned out to be quite different than his past arrangements for his service. As Tatianna learned through a number of stealthily overheard conversations throughout the next couple of days, Alaska’s entire family was being moved 'temporarily’ with him as he served for the duration of the war. However, as compensation for having to uproot his wife and child from their home, he had been given a higher position within the chain of command as well as a promise for future consideration of further promotions if he performed well.

All the same, it was clear her parents were concerned for their friends’ safety. They had made a strong promise to watch over the family’s household until they returned…and that was the last Tatianna heard for a long while.

Within a year of the announcement of the latest war, Tatianna’s father had quite unexpectedly hit a stroke of luck with a number of his new business ventures. He had his hand in a number of investments, most related to providing aid for the war such as owning shares in weapon suppliers’ stock, arranging for steady supplies of produce and meat to various military camps and  rather dicey gamble of supplementing the country’s postal service with some horses he bought just on the off chance they might pay out in the future.

All of this had been calculated risks but still risks all the same, yet in just a few months the businesses were turning a profit and Tatianna’s family’s fortunes were beginning to accumulate. Soon her cotton dresses had become ones of expensive silk and tutors were pulled from some of the highest education backgrounds. She always felt rather lucky if somewhat embarrassed by all of the extra attention that was now being showered upon her. There was very little she was ever denied so long as she asked her father persuasively enough…

Though he hardly seemed concerned with the price involved with spoiling his daughter, Tatianna was acutely aware of just how expensive some of her belongings were, especially when compared with some of the town’s residents or those of her own servants. But of all her possessions, her favorites had not been the dresses or jewelry but in fact was her literary collection. She practically devoured every book that came into her life and quickly developed a small library consisting of some of her absolute favorites.

But it seems her passion for reading was almost to make up for the lack of it within most others she had met. True, nearly every child from the other aristocratic families read to some extent but even still it quite hard to find someone as willing to discuss the novels as she was. Then there was also the challenge that very few had read such a variety as she had.

It was just as well though. She never really got the chance to see many other people aside from those who lived in her household or less frequently, those in the nearest town. Schooling was her focus at the moment, largely due to her father’s reluctance to allow her to travel with a war going on. But he promised quite ardently that one day she would be able to travel, with a companion of course, he said, once it was safe enough for her to do so. He wanted her to be as worldly as he never got the chance to be as a young adult. He had to work quite hard to get to where he was and though sometimes he was required to leave the estate to tend to business in person, he never really travelled for pleasure. He wanted better for his daughter but again, safety was the primary issue at the moment.

For now Tatianna had to remain content simply reading about the places she longed to visit with the hope that someday she would be able to witness them in person.

As she passed her sixteenth birthday, news from the frontlines finally emerged. The majority of the war had already been won and while there were still a few important battles left to be fought, Alaska’s family was given permission to return home, though sadly it would be without her mother. About three years into the war, a particularly harsh bout of illness swept through the camps and unfortunately Alaska’s mother had been one of the few to die from it despite all of the medical attention that had been given to her. Her body had simply been weakened from the stress of the war and the knowledge that her husband was off fighting in the midst of it. So once the disease came to settle in the camp, she had been claimed along with about 50 or so additional residents in the nearby area.

Tatianna’s heart had broken a little when she heard the news, but it would still be another two, nearly three years before Alaska’s father would be able to return home with his daughter. For his exemplary effort with the war he had been knighted and given the title of 'Count’, consequently turning his estate, as well as some neighboring land awarded to him, into a small county. But as Tatianna’s father pointed out, the title, though now hereditary, did little to actually help his friend financially after the war. A large part of the salary he had earned simply went to living expenses for himself and his daughter. They had enough saved and awarded after the dismissal to maintain their household and the few servants who would be returning to their post, but not much was left beyond that for a man who was essentially restarting his life.

To remedy the situation, as well as welcome his dear friend back home, Tatianna’s father took charge of updating and renovating the household that had been left alone these past couple of years. He called upon his wife and daughter to help give the manor a warmer, more friendly air. Tatianna herself was given charge of redesigning Alaska’s room with something more modern and fitting for a girl her age. The task was a little daunting considering she had no idea what Alaska’s personal taste was, barely having a memory of what the girl looked like anymore, but she settled on simply creating an inviting, relaxing atmosphere for the woman who would now be one of her closest neighbors.

The bedding she chose was warm and soft in light colors, the decorations were modernized but kept minimal to avoid unnecessary cluttering around the walls. The vanity desk that Tatianna picked out for her was one she was exceptionally proud of as it had a large number of drawers and storage space without taking up too much room. The wooden paneling surrounding the mirror might have been a bit flashy but as a whole the piece was so beautiful that Tatianna felt it simply belonged in the room. The carpeting was replaced with something more plush, and of course the closet filled with a number of new, casual outfits that exemplified the latest fashion crazes. But out of all of this, Tatianna was most excited about the novels she had stocked on Alaska’s new bookcase. Her mother had mentioned that Alaska also had an interest in reading, not there was opportunity to do much else while she traveled the warfront with her father, but as to what she read…that was a mystery.

So Tatianna gave in to a slightly selfish desire and filled the shelving unit with a couple of her own favorite works and a few from other areas of interest just to cover her bases.

But aside from all of that, Tatianna found that she was quite longing to have a new friend, one actually close enough that she could see on occasion. So in the hopes of kindling this new friendship, she left a pen and stationary set on the vanity, as well as a letter of her own welcoming her back to the area.

When it came time for the family to actually reenter their home, Tatianna, her parents, and a few servants gathered in the main hall to greet the unsuspecting homeowners. All of this had been a surprise for them, further evidence of just how deep a friendship Tatianna’s father shared with Alaska’s, yet despite that knowledge, she still found herself somewhat nervous as to how it all would be received.

She waited anxiously beside her parents, fiddling with the lace on her sleeves from sheer nerves as she waited for the door to begin opening. As the heavy wood finally began to part from the door frame, Tatianna found herself trying to bite back a smile as she awaited to see the family reenter their home for the first time in several years.

At first it was quiet, almost terrifyingly so as the father and daughter stepped past the doorway and took a look around all that they could see in the room. There was an indescribable expression on the man’s face as he turned to his long-time friend, then in just a few seconds the pair was rushing forward to embrace one another in long overdue hug.

“Welcome back,” Tatianna heard her father say as she stood a few feet behind him at her mother’s side.

The two immediately began diving into a fast paced conversation alternating between catching up and exchanging words of gratitude; one for the overly thoughtful gesture and the other for his friend’s safe return but Tatianna could scarcely pay attention. Her eyes immediately drifted to the now grown up blonde in front of her who she just barely had come to recognize.

The shoulder length hair Tatianna had remembered from her youth had now grown to reach the young woman’s lower back, the parts that hadn’t been piled in a simple but classy bun at least. Glittering just so in the light, Tatianna could see a few pins with semi-precious gemstones adorning the charming updo. And even in her simple, travel worn dress she looked like the model for the most perfectly picturesque, polite young woman as she waited patiently for her father to reconnect with his old friend. Every so often her gaze would drift Tatianna’s way but they had yet to make genuine eye contact. Again, much like she had felt when they met each other so long ago, Tatianna longed to impress the older woman but true to her childhood self, she felt terribly anxious and dreading the inevitable moment she would make a fool of herself.

Almost as if her father had read her mind somehow, he stepped away from his friend to properly introduce the young women to each other once more. As they shook hands and exchanged small grins, Tatianna was sure her palm was noticeably sweating and trembling. If she had realized at all, Alaska showed no sign of it and turned her attention to Tatianna’s mother and father who had begun asking her about her experiences out in the countryside. For the life of her, despite how it looked like she was actively listening to the blonde’s answers, Tatianna could not remember a single word of what she had said only ten minutes later when her mother encouraged her to show Alaska her refurbished room.

Almost meekly and now somewhat afraid as to how her changes would be received, Tatianna led Alaska at a brisk pace down the corridor to her bedroom. As she reached out her hand to open the door, she found that it was shaking and her heart raced away in her chest with the desperate prayer that Alaska wouldn’t mind all that she had done.

Holding her breath, she stepped past the doorway and allowed Alaska to take in her redesigned bedroom. Almost immediately a shocked gasp escaped the older girl as she gaped at everything that had been changed since she was last there. Again Tatianna prayed this was a good sign.

The blonde darted from each new object studying it closely before moving onto the next all the while Tatianna remained sheepishly by the doorway. When Alaska finally turned back to her, Tatianna’s head dipped down and in a hesitant tone she inquired softly, “Is it alright?”

“'Alright’?” Alaska squeaked out as her eyes began to fill with tears, “It’s better than 'alright’! I love it!”

The brunette barely had time to form a pleased smile before she found the older woman’s arms wrapped tightly around and pulling her in for an expressive hug. There was a brief squeeze as Alaska murmured appreciatively, “Thank you so much.”

The stunned woman was just beginning to raise her arms to return the gesture before Alaska remembered herself and hastily pulled away. Looking almost afraid, the blonde tried to apologize, “I-I’m sorry, my Lady, I forgot who-”

“It’s okay,” Tatianna assured her with a shake of her head as she tried to dispel the growing confusion she felt towards the reaction.

Guiltily, Alaska disagreed and took another step back as she argued, “No, it’s not. I crossed a line. I’m sorry, my Lady. It won’t happen again-”

“Alaska,” Tatianna interrupted her firmly, “It’s fine…I promise.”

It was very apparent the blonde still felt very apprehensive despite Tatianna’s reassurance. But what Tatianna couldn’t shake was the overly polite way that Alaska kept referring to her. She was used to it from the hired servants but not by someone older than her. It just felt…wrong that Alaska would address her as 'my Lady.’ After all, her dad was now a Count…wouldn’t that mean if anything that Alaska outranked her?

Deciding to address it now, Tatianna advised the young woman as kindly as she could manage, “And please, just call me 'Tati.’”

“Lady Tati?” Alaska asked as her head cocked to the side.

It was so adorable that Tatianna almost wanted to laugh but all she did was give a patient smile and reaffirm, “Just 'Tati’.”

To her shock, Alaska’s eyes immediately widened and she looked quite helpless as she shook her head vehemently. Again the confusion was steadily rising in Tatianna’s mind but she forced herself to attend to Alaska’s polite but adamant denial, “Forgive me, my Lady, but I can’t. That’s too informal for me to address-”

“How?” Tatianna questioned as she finally gave in to her curiosity. Was Alaska not aware of her father’s own position? “Your father is a Count. If anything I ought to be calling you 'my Lady’!”

At once Alaska’s eyes softened into something almost akin to pity…as though she were about to explain something to a small child that ought to have been very obvious and simple. Tatianna’s cheeks started to flare as Alaska’s voice dipped into one of a very cautious, almost painfully patient tone, “My Lady, I don’t think you realize just how powerful your family actually is…My father might have a title but they gave those out to a number of the other commanders who served in the war….Your father however, he has influence….connections, you know. His standing is much higher than that of my father’s, title or not.”

All at once, despite all of the schooling she had gone through, Tatianna felt horribly ignorant. She wanted to shrink away in embarrassment and hide in the carriage until it was time to leave. And now that Alaska was gazing down at her with those unbelievably kind and understanding eyes? It was all she could do to mutter in a near shame-filled voice, “I…I didn’t know…”

“That’s alright,” the blonde assured her almost in the same manner a favorite mentor would, “Your father was never one to brag about his position and my own absolutely raves about how kind he’s been over the years, especially to his friends. He’s never let his influence go to his head and it seems he never impressed upon you just how high your standing actually is…It’s perfectly understandable.”

Tatianna just wanted to crawl up and die at the moment. She just couldn’t believe how blind she had been and then to have a near stranger explain her situation to her? It was mortifying. But even so, it didn’t change the fact that she still did not want Alaska addressing her in a manner so overly rigid and formal.

Still noticing a hint of shame in her voice, Tatianna told the older woman, “Thank you…for explaining that but please…could you still just call me 'Tati’?”

A mutter of reluctance was beginning to form on Alaska’s lips but quite hastily, Tatianna was swift to cut her off with a small compromise, “If you must, you can still address me as 'my Lady’ in front of others but while we’re alone…can’t we just drop the titles? Please? Or even just 'Tatianna’ if you’d prefer that.”

It looked as if Alaska was still going to refuse for a moment but to the brunette’s relief she heard the slow drawling out of 'Tatianna’ filling the empty space between them. As Alaska wrapped the name around her tongue, seemingly trying it for the first time out loud, the woman in question felt her stomach twisting into a series of tight knots. Somehow just hearing the blonde saying her proper name felt more right and more natural than any other time she heard it falling from another’s mouth. If she were paying closer attention she would have sworn her heart skipped a beat as the final syllable escaped Alaska’s lips.

Her grin was brighter than ever and when Alaska caught sight of it any trepidation she might have still harbored slipped away as she agreed to the proposal. And with that understanding, both felt they had taken an important first step in establishing their relationships with another. But desperate for a change of topic, Tatianna redirected Alaska back to the bookcase and showed her all that she had stocked on the shelves.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like to read,” the brunette admitted with an apologetic smile, “So I put some of my own favorites here and left some space open for yours.”

Admittedly charmed by the statement, Alaska confessed, “I’ve read a number of these already…I rather like them, too…though it looks like now I’ll have doubles.”

The pair had to laugh at the turn of events and instantly fell into a vibrant discussion over their interest in a few common titles. Before long they had begun acting like old friends, much like their fathers, and after a brief look outside, Tatianna suddenly asked, “Do you ride at all?”

“Not actively,” the blonde stated in a casual tone, “But my dad did teach me a bit on some of our calmer days while travelling from one camp to the next.”

Excited, Tatianna’s face immediately lit up as she offered, “Do you want to go riding now? We have enough time before dinner it looks like.”

Alaska’s expression faltered as she admitted as though it were a point of embarrassment, “I…don’t have any proper riding clothes.”

The blush that graced the older woman’s face was too deep not to be noticed but Tatianna quickly brushed it off and corrected her with a confident, “Better look in your closet then.”

Curiously, Alaska stood up from the mattress the pair had settled on nearly an hour ago and rushed over to the small walk-in closet that she had left nearly emptied all those years prior to her departure. It had been the one feature of the room she had not inspected as she expected it to remain just as barren as she had left it when her father was called to war.

Upon opening the door however she was nearly overwhelmed by the flashes of color and various shapes of the garments that had greeted her. And like Tatianna had mentioned, about midway inside she found two new pairs of riding clothes waiting for her to try on. She spun around in shock, seemingly unable to force her brain to come up with any sort of coherent thought. But after she was finally able to thank the younger woman for the generous gift, she remembered all too quickly that there was another small problem.

“I don’t have a horse though…” she mentioned as her eyes fell to the ground. But suddenly her head shot up as she suggested, “But my father might let me borrow his!”

Almost giggling, Tatianna insisted, “You can use one of ours! They’re a bit bigger than what I normally ride but I’m sure my mother and father won’t mind if we borrow them tonight so long as we promise to be careful…and go with the groomsmen too.”

If Alaska had any inclination to refuse the offer, the younger woman didn’t notice as she grabbed the blonde’s hand and excitedly led her around the house in search of their family. Though the ride wasn’t likely to be very long, perhaps maybe an hour if that, it’d still be quite fun and Tatianna was itching to explore the area a little bit. Upon drawing near the living room, it was quite easy to tell that their parents had taken to relaxing on some of the new furniture as dinner was being prepared. The doors separating the area from the hallway were left slightly ajar and their voices could be heard filtering out into the otherwise quiet abode.

As the two young women drew near the heavy oversized doors, Tatianna heard Alaska’s father asking in a casual manner, “Have you begun searching for Tatianna’s husband yet?”

Immediately she stopped dead in her tracks and felt herself taking in a shallow gasp. Her ears were beginning to pound and before she could explode into the room to stop the conversation from proceeding any further, she found her own father correcting his friend in a gentle tone, “Wife. She’ll be looking for a wife.”

The brunette’s face was burning brightly but she couldn’t bring herself to look at Alaska’s reaction. She found she could scarcely even pay attention as the conversation continued, “My apologies, I didn’t realize. Have you begun searching for a young woman to marry your daughter?”

It shocked Tatianna that he was so understanding of the statement but more than anything she found she was dying to hear what her father was going to say. They hardly talked about such a serious topic yet and she found she was terrified as to what his answer might be.

With a heavy sigh, Tatianna heard her father’s contemplative voice replying, “There have been a few offers coming in already but…we’d like for Tatianna to choose a bride of her own volition.”

At once the brunette found that she could breathe again and an audible sigh of relief echoed in the quiet hall. But still she didn’t dare look over to the older woman just yet. They hardly knew each other and a subject like this was rather heavy to discuss upon their first true meeting. She just wasn’t sure how Alaska was going to react and anything negative…it might just break her heart. In truth she’d lost a few friends over the years after they had learned of her sexuality and if Alaska would be one of them? That’d be crushing, she just knew it.

But quickly moving the conversation along, Alaska’s father asked with a slight laugh in his voice, “I trust the ice princess is not on that list.”

“Thank the heavens,” Tatianna’s father responded quickly. She could almost hear him rolling his eyes as he added, “She’s not on ours nor my daughter’s.”

“That’s a relief. Have you heard the latest bit of news from her court, by the way?”

“The last I heard was that she had sent two marriage proposals of her own,” her father mused as he recollected the details from the most recent piece of gossip. “Both to members of Asian nobility, strangely…a young woman with a title of some kind, I believe, and another without a title.”

Tatianna could hear the amused edge in Alaska’s father’s voice as he offered some additional insight he had gleaned following his brief appointment at court prior to his return home, “There’s been a bit of an update regarding that. It seems the young princess, rather queen now, that she had sent her proposal to has also sent out two such offers herself…one to a girl with a title and one without…”

Intrigued, her father asked in wonder, “The one with the title?”

“Raven,” his friend replied meaningfully. The ice princess herself. Though that hardly seemed to be a surprise.

“And the one without?” It was easy for Tatianna to imagine her father, as well as her mother, on the edge of their seats as they waited for further information of some kind. After all, that’s what Tatianna would have been like had she been sitting down too. Instead all she did was creep closer to the door as she heard Alaska’s father say almost scandalously, “It was the very same woman Raven sent hers to.”

There was a murmur of shock from her parents as they made a number of hushed comments to themselves and their friend about the situation. It was here that Tatianna finally dared to look at Alaska.

When the young woman was no longer right behind her as she’d previously been, Tatianna felt her heart clenching. She thought she’d been abandoned once Alaska heard the news about her sexuality but after turning her head just a bit further, Tatianna noticed a figure slumped against the wall just two feet away.

Alaska looked absolutely miserable as she stared off into space.

Very cautiously, as she still did not know what to expect just yet, Tatianna moved beside her and gave a small noise encouraging the older woman to say what was on her mind. The blonde’s eyes look quite pained and helpless before she finally admitted in a whisper, “I know all three of them.”

It took Tatianna a second to register who Alaska was talking about but once she did, she placed a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulder and probed with a soft, “Yeah?”

“They’re in an absolute mess right now…” she lamented as her heart ached for her friends. “Raven is frustrated…Raja is worrying herself sick and Manila…I haven’t seen her but I’m sure she’s in tears over this.”

Tatianna nodded in understanding as she remembered all the pieces of gossip she had heard regarding the other women. She didn’t know Manila, likely due to her being in a foreign country and Tatianna forbidden to travel at the moment, but the other two…she knew of quite well. She’d never gotten along with Raven, not that there was much chance to get to know her. She was currently involved in a power struggle for the throne and of course the title of 'princess’. As it last stood, another young lady’s family was the one in power though there was ever increasing support for Raven’s own family and by being the eldest in the direct line of those fighting to overtake the throne, she was expected to become the new princess and later, possibly after marriage; the queen. A number of citizens in the surrounding area, her supporters or otherwise recognizing her claim to the title had taken to calling her 'princess’ already. Though more often than not, those that actually knew her would refer to her as the 'ice princess’.

There were very few people the young lady would allow to get close to her but the rumor was that once you had won her favor, her personality changed quite dramatically. She was open and loyal to her friends, joking with them in a way few others got a chance to see. Those that came to see this side of her also had become enamored with her. Enough to want to continue spending time with her at least. And it seems some portion of that rumor might be true if she managed to charm Raja enough into sending a marriage proposal of her own.

This particular young woman, though a few years older than Raven, had ascended to the throne without much fuss or objection. Long before the crown was properly placed on her head, she had been beloved and respected by her people and her coronation was evidence of that. People cheered all around the country as she took the throne and soon proved herself to be a capable leader. She seemed to have put off the thought of marriage until she had a firm handle on her empire but there was a whole new situation brewing for her now. Not one concerning matters of state but of the heart and mind. Tatianna for one was curious as to how it all would play out, as well as who this other noble lady was who lacked a title yet managed to capture the hearts of two powerful personalities.

Trying her best to be comforting, Tatianna assured her, “They’ll figure this out. I’m sure they will.”

The blonde shot her a grateful smile and stood up straight again as she thanked her. As she brushed away the hint of a tear, Tatianna noticed that even though she herself was quite tall, Alaska still had at least two inches on her. It was a nice change to have a friend who was not male yet still taller. But there was still one last answer that Tatianna needed to know before continuing to pursue this friendship any further. Swallowing back her fears, she asked with trepidation, “And you…you’re okay with…that, right?”

Alaska gave her a momentary look of confusion before the younger woman quickly elaborated, “Their sexualities, I mean…who they are attracted to and all.”

Still with that adorable perplexed look on her face, Alaska questioned, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

At a loss for a decent answer, Tatianna just nodded her head and swiftly changed the subject, “Do you still want to go riding? We could do something else if you’re not up for it?”

“No,” Alaska reasoned after thinking about it for a moment, “It’d be good to clear my head…at least for a little while. Shall we go ask?”

The last syllable was hardly said before Tatianna’s enthusiasm returned once more and she was dragging Alaska into the living room with her to face their parents. With as charming of a smile as she could manage, she asked, “Would it be alright if we went out riding before dinner? We promise to take the carriage driver with us!”

The pair of fathers looked at each other in apprehension, before Alaska’s own stated cautiously, “I’m fine with it…so long as you both are very careful. Do you have any objections, Barrett?”

Shaking his head, Tatianna’s father replied, “No, just so that they promise to be back in time to clean up. I’d like to have a proper dinner to welcome you and your daughter home…so that would mean you two need to wash and change into clean clothes, not your riding gear, to eat with us. Can both of you do that?”

Elated, Tatianna replied, “Absolutely!”

“Then go ahead,” he consented with a reassuring look towards his friend.

“May we also use two of the horses from our carriage?” Tatianna inquired with her usual brand of politeness when asking her father for what she considered to be a large favor.

“Of course, love,” he relented with a smile, “Just take the smaller pair, please.”

“Thank you!” the brunette called out ecstatically as she rushed from the room with Alaska in tow.

While Alaska ran off to her room to begin changing, Tatianna had to double back to the carriage in order to pick up her riding clothes. In truth, she had anticipated, or at least hoped, that she’d have a chance to ride while out here visiting and stashed her gear in a bag she kept hidden under the seat. Though this set had clearly been used quite heavily over the last year and a half since she took up riding more seriously, she loved these worn out clothes as much as even her most expensive dress. And once the gear was on she had to admit she looked more natural in them than Alaska did in her newly bought ensemble. The overly clean clothes looked a bit out of place on her as she tugged on the sleeves and collar somewhat uncomfortably.

It didn’t take much imagination for Tatianna to picture the young woman riding in more simple gear, likely borrowed from her father given the environment she had learned in. Even on the horses, their different backgrounds were quite striking. Tatianna’s riding style was one of precision and practice, having been trained to follow some common rules regarding style. Alaska’s was one that had been learned through trial and error. She had learned how to ride out the motions as they came, her body moving almost like one with the horse’s despite having never ridden this particular one before. As the brunette watched her smiling away as they galloped, she couldn’t help but form a small grin of her own.

It really had been a good idea for a quick ride before dinner.

******

Upon their return to the estate, they found they had been out a bit longer than anticipated but still thankfully left with enough time for a quick wash and changing of clothes. The dinner itself, while meant to be formal, ended up being far more friendly and casual than Tatianna had expected. It spoke greatly of just how close her father was to his friend.

When Tatianna’s family had to leave in order to make it back to their home at a decent hour, she called out to Alaska to be sure to read the letter she had left on her vanity. She was quite anxious as they drove away but once the manor was out of sight, Tatianna found herself gushing over all she and her new friend had talked about. Her parents listened very patiently and highly amused that the girls had hit it off so well. Tatianna herself was quite glad for it too. She longed to have a friend nearby that she got along so easily with. She just hoped Alaska felt the same and would return a letter of her own before long.

In fact,  it was only a week before a page from Alaska’s estate arrived with a response. It was detailed and wordy, expressing all that had been done since she and her father moved back in properly and soon, Tatianna was penning a reply of her own. Rather quickly the pair found that they had a lot they to discuss, not just to catch each other up on daily events but also to dissect even deeper thoughts, especially those regarding literature. The amount of paper the pair had used during their correspondence could have easily filled a book of their own yet when each read through their latest piece of mail, it still felt like it wasn’t enough.

Months of this type of communication had gone on uninterrupted until there was hardly a week where at least one letter each wasn’t exchanged between the two. Eventually during one of their family dinners, Tatianna’s mother remarked casually, “Instead of constantly sending the pages back and forth every week, why not go see Alaska?”

Shocked, Tatianna nearly dropped her silverware onto her plate and rounded on her father for a confirmation of what her mother was proposing.

“Could I?” she asked trying to keep her voice steady despite how her spirits were immediately beginning to soar.

Nodding with a small, vaguely reluctant smile of his own, he advised “I’ve discussed it with your mother…she and I feel you’re ready to begin travelling, within reason of course. I’ve already sent a letter off to Robert asking for his permission and he said you are welcome to visit on the weekends so as not to disrupt either of your studies…If you will agree to take one of the stable hands with you, I don’t see a reason why you can’t go visit Alaska. But do try to return before nightfall.”

Elated, Tatianna felt like she would have promised anything now that the opportunity to see her friend was more than just an idle thought. She truly hadn’t expected to see Alaska so soon, let alone that she would be granted permission to travel without her parents. Almost immediately after dinner she set herself down to write another letter, this one short and sweet, asking if it would be alright to visit the following weekend. The response was delayed only two days and even through the constrained wording, Tatianna could pick up on just how excited Alaska was as well.

Once the weekend came around, Tatianna and one of the groomsmen mounted their horses in the early morning and set off to arrive at Alaska’s household before midday. The blonde had seen her coming up the driveway long before the pair was even announced and like a shot she was rushing outside to greet her friend. Tatianna barely had time to drop to the ground before she was met by Alaska’s bright and shining grin. Knowing the girl a bit better than she had during their last meeting, Tatianna took the initiative to launch herself at the older woman and embrace her in a tight hug.

She hadn’t realized just how much she truly missed Alaska’s presence until they were finally reunited once again and to her immense relief, Alaska returned her gesture almost instantly. The rest of the day went far too quickly as the pair walked around the grounds, ate lunch together, and chatted away about anything that came to mind. It was heart wrenching when Tatianna’s groomsmen gave her a polite reminder that they ought to be heading back soon.

Nodding in understanding, she sent him to get the horses ready while she reluctantly wrapped up her visit with her friend. To her credit Alaska looked just as unhappy as Tatianna felt but there was little that could be done. They promised that their next visit wouldn’t be too far off into the future and in just two weeks, Tatianna found herself waiting impatiently by her bedroom window for the first sign of Alaska and her father’s horse to appear on the bridleway.

Almost as quickly as their written correspondence became a weekly habit, so did the pair’s visits to one another become part of their new routine. Eventually their day-long visits extended to the entire weekend with the pair alternating who slept where. Though their parents allowed for the girls to visit each other every other week, they seemed more than content to let the friendship blossom in any other way they chose. A lot of their approval seemed to be just from the sheer joy that the girls got along as well as their fathers but Tatianna found herself wondering every now and then if perhaps she felt something more.

Alaska was an absolute joy for her to be around. She was kind and intelligent, witty and full of laughter. Tatianna loved seeing her smile, whether it was nearly doubling over as she cackled away or just a distracted curl of the lips as they walked around the household grounds together. The brunette found that she wanted to do nearly anything within her power just to keep Alaska smiling for a little bit longer and as for Alaska? The feeling seemed to be mutual. She was fascinated by the younger woman; loving her unique take on some of the common books they read, her vaguely sarcastic humor at times, the way she listened so carefully to every word Alaska said before offering her own reply.

Each felt like their friendship was one of mutual respect; neither was trying to gain anything from the relationship other than a companion, someone they can relate to in a manner they hadn’t really experienced with anyone else. They longed to spend more time together and just a bit over a year after Alaska’s return home, they got their wish.

It was summer again and as the temperatures rose and their studies took a break, Alaska’s father and Tatianna’s parents agreed that it would be alright for the girls to visit a mutual friend’s beachside villa. It wasn’t an exceptionally large house, not like either of theirs but it was a chance for them to spend more than just two days together. They had been given permission to stay for a full week relaxing in the sun and each other’s company. Though their fathers’ friend had staff living in the house year-round and of course the girls would be bringing a chaperone each to ensure they remained safe, it was still an opportunity for some additional privacy and freedom to be themselves without any additional pressures to act proper for once.

The journey to the house itself took from dawn to well after dusk. There was scarcely a chance to unpack before each turned in for the night but the next day?

The two were up far earlier than their normal sleeping habits would allow in order to rush off to the beach. Though the chaperones refused to let the pair swim, thinking it was indecent and far too dangerous despite the calm surf and seclusion of the property, the two found they were content just to walk along the shoreline in their bare feet. Tatianna found herself struggling to pay attention to anything other than Alaska as they walked close together and the elder of the two fussed over making sure Tatianna’s dress stayed dried. True, they bundled and tacked each bit fabric until it was midway up her calf but still the blonde was desperate to keep Tatianna’s dress from getting hit by the waves.

The woman in question loved the feeling of walking on wet sand as the cool water pooled around her feet but she found herself charmed by the way Alaska seemed so concerned for her. It wasn’t anything uncommon, the older girl was always trying to be mindful of Tatianna’s status despite how the latter wished with all that she had that Alaska would simply relax and forget about their social standings. But that wasn’t in Alaska’s nature. If Tatianna was going to disregard the social etiquette that everyone had deemed appropriate for them, then Alaska would just have to try twice as hard to make up for it and reel the younger woman back in as needed.

Even today when they were supposed to be free from society’s expectations, she just couldn’t let that side of her relax completely. She paid extra attention to the pattern of the waves and warned Tatianna to be careful of each new swell coming in. She steadied the brunette at the slightest sign of unbalanced footing and ensured they both stayed under the protection of their parasols at all times. It was almost exhausting but she couldn’t stop herself from fawning over the younger girl.

As for Tatianna, a large part of her was distracted by just how happy Alaska seemed to be otherwise as they walked down the length of the beach. Her eyes would gaze out into the distance of the ocean and more than once Tatianna was reminded of the similarities of both, be it the shared color or depth they both contained. As they paused to eat their lunch on a grassy hill overlooking the sea and surf, Tatianna was struck by the sudden realization of how relaxed they both had become…and by how clear certain feelings had begun to make themselves known.

Before, she had her mind trained to focus on specific things; household concerns, her relationships with other friends or family connections, and especially her studies, but now? There was nothing she had to focus on other than what was happening right at that moment and of course, that meant Alaska. Her heart was swelling at the sight of the older woman enjoying herself in a way she’d never seen before. The only time her smile left her face was if she was fussing over Tatianna to be careful.

And then as they relaxed on the hill together with no one else nearby to pry her attention away?

Tatianna found that more than anything she just wanted to reach over, brush away some of those long locks floating in the gentle breeze and kiss Alaska with everything she had. She wanted to pull the blonde close to her, hear her gasp just before their lips connected and then revel in the overwhelming joy she’d feel once the gesture was returned.

But all too quickly she was shunted out of her daydream at the sound of the blonde speaking to her. She quickly recovered her senses and they continued on with their walk down the opposite direction of the beach they had came in at and that was the end of those thoughts for awhile. She refused to let herself think about that again until later that night.

They had each retired to their respective rooms but Tatianna was nowhere near ready for bed. Though she had changed into her sleeping attire already, she was still wide awake. Part of her mind was trying to make sense of all of these new feelings that seemed to have developed while another part simply mulled over the small grumblings of the blonde as they left the beach that afternoon. Alaska had muttered as they made their way back to their caretakers that she wished they could have been able to swim at least for a little bit. After replaying that scene only twice, Tatianna suddenly found herself struck with a devious thought.

Slipping from her bed, she put on a pair of well-worn flats and padded quietly down the hall to Alaska’s room. Knocking softly on the wood, she discovered the blonde had not gone to bed yet either. Upon entering the bedroom, she found Alaska curled up in the alcove by the bay window and deeply engrossed in a book she had brought along for the trip.

Mildly concerned by the sneaky grin the younger woman was wearing, Alaska questioned her as to why she was up so late still. Despite her mostly calm expression, a decent amount of her focus was spent on trying to force back the blush she felt settling on her cheeks. Tatianna had never seen her in her night clothes before despite how often they spent the night in each other’s homes. It felt oddly intimate for anyone to see her with such thin coverings on. But despite her embarrassment she found herself almost immediately complying as Tatianna urged her to put on a pair of shoes and follow her downstairs.

Not quite aware of her own voice, Alaska made to question the brunette as they wandered the halls but was quickly shushed into silence as they passed by the doors of the residents and their chaperones. Not daring to make a sound, Tatianna pulled Alaska with her until they had reached the kitchen and suddenly the blonde realized what her friend was planning. Her heart was racing at the thought of sneaking out and soon she found herself engaging quite enthusiastically as they crept out the back door and shut it with a soft thud.

It was only once they were a couple hundred feet away from the house that the pair dissolved into shrieks of laughter and ran the rest of the way down to the empty beach. It looked absolutely stunning in the moonlight, their eyes slowly adjusting to the pale glow as they followed the natural path to the sandscape they had left just a few hours prior. Even before the grassy lawn gave way to the entrance to the beach, the girls were stripping off their shoes and ready to deposit them at the very edge of the walkway.

Once free, the pair dashed straight into the ocean wading up to their calves and disregarding how their pant legs were becoming soaked or how the water temperature had dropped several degrees following the sun setting over the horizon. They stood together for only a moment before Tatianna was pulling Alaska with her even further into the surf and ultimately splashing the blonde with a light spray of sea water. Alaska returned the sentiment, each giggling wildly to themselves and treading further and further until the water was thigh high. Neither knew how long they spent just splashing around, swimming and laughing with one another but before either had a chance to recognize it, something in the atmosphere changed and they found their laughter cut off as their gaze connected in an unusually intimate manner. Before either truly had a chance to think, they found their lips and bodies pressed closer together than they had ever dared to before.

Tatianna was sure that she had been the one to initiate the contact but if she could have read Alaska’s mind, she would have found a similar thought running through the blonde’s head as well. Regardless of how it started, it had finally begun and neither wanted to stop for anything. But still Tatianna pulled away in shock, blaming herself for pushing her newly discovered affections on her closest friend but almost immediately found the blonde’s lips chasing hers in an effort to reconnect them. That little motion was all it took to convince her to continue and she did so with abandon.

She poured everything she had felt that day into this one kiss, loving the way Alaska responded so eagerly and desperately like she’d been waiting to do the same for just as long as she had. The two were clinging to each other, unwilling to pull away until eventually there came a mutual decision to work their way towards the shoreline. Even then their hands hardly left one another’s body for more than a second or so before they found their way back to one another.

Somehow, and rather gracelessly Tatianna imagined, she ended up straddling Alaska as the tide flowed around them and her fingers ran through the older woman’s sopping wet hair while their lips continued to work together in a seamless fashion. Every so often one of them would break away to gasp and the other would seize the chance to dust their cheeks or neck with a multitude of kisses while they collected themselves. Neither quite knew what they wanted at that particular moment other than to just remain together for even for only a few minutes longer.

Hands slid almost anywhere they could reach but the kisses themselves remained surprisingly chaste in spite of the overwhelming emotions that fueled them. Finally as the moon was beginning to sink low in the sky and the water line rose ever higher; they were forced to separate and find their way back to their forgotten shoes. The return back to the house was quick and quiet, each trying to figure out just what had happened and what it meant as they escaped off to their rooms.

Tatianna felt wretched as she left Alaska’s company to go and change out of her soaked clothes but for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with anything to say to the blonde. Alaska seemed just as lost and stunned as she was as she held an musive look on her face upon reentering her bedroom.

Tatianna was toying with the idea of going to see the blonde again and try to talk until she heard a light knocking on her door. Immediately knowing who it was, she pulled on her dry clothes and rushed to answer the door herself. Alaska had scarcely been in her room for more than a few seconds before the door was shut and the pair found their way back to one another.

This time the kiss was far more passionate, more expressive of the long suppressed desire and both loved that feeling more than anything. It was as though everything they ever felt for one another had come bubbling to the surface and allowed itself to be displayed in a simple but meaningful gesture like none other could. The two collapsed onto Tatianna’s bed but it was there they finally slowed down. Their actions became more languid, more deliberate as hands travelled over each other’s bodies once again. But that was all they did that night. They didn’t talk, hardly thought about what was happening other than how glad they were that it did and that their feelings were reciprocated. At some point the pair fell asleep mid-kiss and when Tatianna woke up the next morning Alaska was curled into her arms, her blonde hair tangled with Tatianna’s brunette locks and fingers wrapped loosely around the fabric of the younger girl’s clothes as though she wanted to cling to every inch she could reach.

No one made any comment when the girl’s damp clothes were discovered other than one of the chaperones asking that if they truly must swim in the ocean to at least take another person along to watch over them. That sort of reaction was typical Tatianna thought. Despite the supposedly strict rules the caretakers, especially hers, were expected to follow, if she happened to break them there never seemed to be any consequences. It was just another example, she had come to realize, of just how privileged she was.

And as expected the rest of the girls’ vacation was spent in close proximity to their chaperones but once night fell and the watchful eye of the staff had gone to sleep, they were back in each other’s arms once more. They still did not speak about this change to their relationship, just acted as though it were natural and normal. And each knew better than to mention a word of it to anyone, especially their parents, once they finally returned home. From that point on they had taken to sneaking off together at every chance they got as their expected level of privacy had dramatically dropped from the time they spent away from their households.

No one seemed to suspect anything was going on; the two always spent so much time together over the weekends that not even the servants or patriarchs of the house batted an eye when the two would slip off somewhere for hours on end. The pair had begun using the excuse of wanting to ride the horses and after convincing their fathers that they were perfectly competent to do so on their own, they were free to explore most anywhere in the immediate area without needing to take along a stablehand. In truth they hardly made it even halfway down the wooded bridleway most of the time before they were hopping off their horses and walking hand in hand together. They had even settled on a nice secluded spot for their liaisons where they and their horses could rest while sitting under the shade in relative secrecy.

But then once nighttime came?

They could be found sneaking off to one another’s bedroom after everyone else had turned in for the night. Most of that time was spent in something almost akin to domestic bliss; chatting away as one of them would rest their head in the other’s lap, cuddling together as they read their favorite books, exchanging a few brief pecks or even a little more if the mood struck them. It was all so peaceful and relaxing that each wished their weekends together never had to end. Alaska loved waking up to find Tatianna’s fingers combing through her hair in the morning and the younger woman never found herself happier than seeing Alaska’s sleepy smile as one of the first sights greeting her as she slowly came to.

It was heartbreaking whenever one would have to travel and their sleepovers would be postponed. Most often they never went more than a few towns over to call on old friends from other families or pay respectful visits to relatives. They were always back within a few days and their rituals would resume. But one day Alaska announced rather sadly that’d she be away for much longer than usual in order to attend a very private, very exclusive get together with some of her friends in another country. Though Tatianna had mostly forgotten about the fiasco that had gone on with Raven and her marriage proposals, Alaska still kept in contact with all three involved and though the scandal took several months to resolve, they seemed to have worked out an arrangement.

All this had occurred long before Tatianna and Alaska’s beach trip and then everything was quiet except for a few occasional mentions by Alaska from time to time. She was a little tight-lipped on what she heard from the women; the three wanting to keep nearly everything hush-hush for awhile but lately Alaska found their letters to be quite exciting and now they were inviting their closest friends together for some kind of party it seems. The blonde was ecstatic and couldn’t wait to see them in person but even so her heart was aching at the thought of being away from Tatianna for so long.

She apologized repeatedly as the two fell into bed together the night before she’d have to return to her own home. With almost every kiss that she pressed to Tatianna’s neck, she whispered out, “I’m sorry.”

The younger girl almost wanted to laugh, but instead all she allowed herself was an amused grin as the older girl moved to straddle her and replied consolingly, “It’s only three weeks. Then you’ll be back home.”

“I know,” Alaska whined as her hands trailed over Tatianna’s clothed waist, “I just…I’m really going to miss you.”

She meant every word of it, Tatianna could tell, more than she ever felt she knew how to express. Decisively, Tatianna pushed herself from the mattress, Alaska firm in her lap, and grazed their lips together. Her fingers tangled themselves loosely in the long blonde locks they found as she pulled away just slightly to reassure her lover, “It’s okay…We’ll write every chance we get until you’re back. You can make me feel like I’m travelling with you.”

“I wish you could,” she lamented as she returned to placing sloppy, lazy kisses up the sides of the younger woman’s neck. “Don’t want to leave you alone, even for a minute.”

Her fingers carefully slid across the younger woman’s stomach as Tatianna gasped quietly in her suddenly far too hot room. Alaska had never been this insistent before; grinding into her lap, placing frantic kisses anywhere she could reach. Tatianna could almost swear she felt a sort of electricity bursting everywhere Alaska ran her fingers and at the moment they were currently hovering over the line of buttons on her pajama top.

Her breath was hot and heavy as she asked, “Can I?”

Tatianna bit back a low whine and nodded her head. This was a new step, never had they seen each other in anything less than their night clothes. And now that Alaska was slowly and methodically undoing each button as she worked her way up, Tatianna found her face burning hotter than she could ever recall.

As the final button popped open and the top hung loosely on Tatianna’s shoulders to expose her bare chest, the room remained eerily quiet. Tatianna could hardly hear over the pounding in her ears but very clearly she saw Alaska mouthing out 'Fuck’ in pure wonder.

Within seconds Alaska’s fingertips were roaming over the bare skin, grazing anywhere they could reach as she gradually began to narrow her attention on Tatianna’s breasts. She was gentle; massaging them lightly as she kissed her way down Tatianna’s chest until she reached the first bud. The second her tongue had begun to swirl around the sensitive skin, the brunette began gasping out the elder girl’s name. Taking that as encouragement, Alaska proceeded to shower the younger woman with all of the attention she deserved. While her mouth remained occupied with one side, she never let other stay unattended. Her thumb and fingers would tease the other bud or rub soothing patterns into Tatianna’s skin as her chest rose and fell from the pleasure.

Alaska loved how genuine and expressive Tatianna had become beneath her touch. The needy tone she’d never heard the younger girl use before, the soft whines as Alaska switched sides, the near breathless gasp once her mouth was back on Tatianna’s skin…It was all intoxicating.

Very slowly, one of Alaska’s hands began to trace lightly down Tatianna’s stomach as she detached herself long enough to whisper, “Wanna take care of you before I go. Wanna make you feel so good.”

The brunette was absently nodding her head until the implication of what Alaska was intending to do rang clear in her mind. The blonde was hooking her fingers around the sleeping bottoms and beginning to tug them down before the younger of the two gasped out, “Laska, wait.”

Immediately her fingers stilled and she looked down in concern at the brunette beneath her. Tatianna had seemed so into it just a moment ago but now that Alaska had a chance to look at her, really, really look at her, she found an expression she’d never seen on her partner before. She was wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted as she panted and her cheeks held a heavy blush. There was a just noticeable crease on the younger girl’s forehead but it was only when she saw Tatianna giving a tense swallow that Alaska had realized what this all meant.

Hardly believing it could be true, Alaska questioned her partner, “Have you ever done this before?”

Almost shamefully, Tatianna shook her head but Alaska’s heart was swelling with a flurry of emotions. She cupped the younger woman’s face and pulled her in for a deep kiss. The hands Tatianna had kept on her waist tighten almost possessively as they remained locked together until the last trace of air left their lungs.

Tilting the younger girl’s chin up, she left a series of light kisses spanning from her cheek to her temple, and swore in a hushed, caring tone, “I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.”

“I know you will,” Tatianna affirmed with an apprehensive smile feeling quite guilty and torn by her decision, “just…not tonight.”

Alaska nodded her head in understanding but her expression was far from happy. She was terrified she had just messed everything up and on their last chance to be together for nearly a month. Her trembling hands retreated instantly and clasped themselves together in an anxious manner as she asked, “Did I…did I move too fast? I’m sorry if-”

“No, I want to!” Tatianna swiftly assured her as she pulled Alaska’s worrying hands into her own, “…I just…want to wait a little longer. Is that alright?”

“Of course!” the blonde replied all too quickly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Very decisively, Tatianna’s expression turned unusually serious as she stated, “When you come back.”

Shaking her head, Alaska tried to dispel what she thought was a hasty promise and began rambling, “I don’t want to-”

“Pressure me?” Tatianna interrupted with an understanding, touched undertone in her voice. Lifting her hand to cup the blonde’s cheek, she guided their lips back to another for a brief second and then pulled away to look deep into Alaska’s still worried eyes. Feeling a good deal more confident in her decision than Alaska would have ever guessed, Tatianna confirmed, “I know and you aren’t. I swear I want to do this though, but not right now.”

The blonde still seemed unconvinced yet nodded her head in approval. There was still time for Tatianna to change her mind after all. But that that activity was to be placed on hold for the time being, the pair instead returned showering each other with lust-filled kisses. For nearly an hour it seemed, they had kept this up until they were lost in their own little world with just one another. Neither could believe that they had been so lucky as to find their partner and have their affections returned. Even still, as the night began to slip away so did Alaska’s preoccupied thoughts of trying to remain somewhat modest for the remainder of her visit. She hadn’t even noticed that she was grinding almost desperately against Tatianna’s thigh until the younger woman pulled away to gasp in surprise, “Lasky!”

All of a sudden she became aware of what her body had been doing and her cheeks filled with a deep crimson. Frantically, so as not to offend her partner, she apologized, “Sorry, sorry! It felt so good, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s okay,” Tatianna assured her as her voice dipped into a low, persuasive pitch, “Keep going.”

Alaska was stunned to say the least, hardly daring to move in case she had misheard the younger woman. Yet to her ever growing surprise, the brunette insisted, “Want to see.”

Obediently, Alaska’s hips began moving again and the pair resumed their liplock. There was something more passionate about it this time, more fiery and demanding. Now it was Alaska’s turn to feel overheated. More than once she had to break away quicker than usual to catch her breath, particularly once her pace started to pick up. It wasn’t long before she was moaning softly into her partner’s mouth, “Tati…”

Almost rolling her eyes, Tatianna push back a lock of hair that was sticking to Alaska forehead and teased softly, “So now you’re gonna call me that?”

But Alaska could hardly hear her, could hardly pay attention as Tatianna slipped a hand beneath the fabric of her shirt. Whether or not the younger girl was intending to remove the night shirt was irrelevant. Once Alaska felt her fingers running across her bare skin she was quick to strip herself of the constricting material. The freedom once the top was gone was wonderful but it was nothing compared to way Tatianna looked at her. The brunette was staring, raking her eyes over every inch of flesh like she was studying some kind of masterpiece. She hardly dared to touch the older woman despite how much she wanted to.

“It’s okay,” Alaska whispered through the pants she was trying to hide, “Whatever you want to do, it’s fine.”

Accepting the invitation, Tatianna placed a hesitant hand over Alaska’s ribs and nearly the same instant the blonde stilled her hips. She was aching to keep going, her body crying for it, but she didn’t want to spook her partner. She let Tatianna take her time, gain her confidence as she explored the upper half of Alaska’s body with her hands and mouth. She was inexperienced, sure, but so careful and considerate with all she was doing. She never wanted to risk anything that could hurt the older woman and only became firmer with her caresses after Alaska assured her it was all right.

She tried her best to imitate all that Alaska had done to her and it seemed to be having the desired effect. The blonde was trying to restrain herself as best she could but her hips just wouldn’t listen. Despite her best efforts she had begun grinding against Tatianna’s thigh once again but thankfully the younger woman didn’t seem bothered by it. She too focused on touching and tasting every inch of skin she could reach.

But in spite of how good the friction felt, Alaska needed more. Tatianna could see that clearly. She was dying to touch herself but she was still trying not to push anything too far and Tatianna was appreciative of that. Yet her curiosity still won out. She pulled away from Alaska’s chest and stopped the blonde’s movements with an amount of strength that surprised even her. Alaska blinked down at her not quite sure what to expect until she heard the persuasive whisper of “Show me.”

It was all Alaska could do not to let her mouth drop open so that she looked like a gaping fish. Her stomach was turning in the most pleasurable way at the invitation to both show off and get off in front of her partner. It was an enticing offer, one she longed to take up but strangely unlike before when her body would not stop, now it would not move.

Trying her best not to sound any more pressuring that Alaska had been earlier, Tatianna asked, “Could you show me what you like?”

Her tone made it clear Alaska could refuse at anytime but she found she didn’t want to. She already wet and more than ready to go, the only thing that stopped her of course was the thought of Tatianna. So inexperienced compared to her, she didn’t want to overwhelm or scare her after all.

Taking the subtle clues from the emotions playing across her partner’s face, Tatianna asserted, “If you’re alright with showing me…I’d like to watch you.”

Finally Alaska’s restraint broke and she found herself sliding off the bed to remove the last traces of her clothes. Very carefully she crawled back into Tatianna’s lap and settled there letting the younger woman drink in the sight before pursuing this any further. The hand of her lover running across her skin was so soft and featherlight she hardly knew it was there save for the burning sensation her fingertips left in their wake as they moved over every inch. After what felt like hours had ticked by but truly couldn’t have been more than two minutes, Tatianna turned her gaze up to Alaska’s dazed one. Her eyes had grown dark with lust and her hands twitching to continue her work. With an encouraging nod from the younger woman, she gave in to the temptation once and for all.

Though she hardly felt she needed it at this point, she still teased herself if only to put on as much of show for Tatianna as she could. The younger woman was fascinated by everything she did. From light tracing against her folds, the slight dip into the heat that produced a soft gasp, or the quiet whine that escaped as a lone finger brushed against her clit for the first time that night. Despite a light blush settling on her face, Tatianna found that she wanted to see it all and soon she got her wish.

Alaska easily pushed in the first finger and began moving but her eyes never left Tatianna. She drank up the way the younger girl was watching her like she was a beautiful piece of art. Though she ached to have it be Tatianna inside of her, tonight she would have to settle for her fantasies. As soon as she felt comfortable,  another finger joined the first and produced a subtle gasp from both women. It was like neither could get enough out of this little scene but Alaska had saved the best for last.

As she drew closer to her release, she finally allowed her free hand to find its way to her clit. She knew once she had started with this, there’d be very little that could stop her from moaning out the younger woman’s name. The shade of red on Tatianna’s cheeks grew even darker but she quickly discovered how good her name sounded falling from the other woman’s lips like this. She couldn’t wait until it was her drawing out these moans…until they wouldn’t have to be concerned about volume or servants or family overhearing them. She wanted that time to come sooner than ever but that was a thought for later. For now her attention was focused on the blonde trembling in her lap and whispering that she was close.

Tatianna’s hands found their way back to Alaska’s breasts, teasing the nipples gently as she captured Alaska’s lips for herself. The blonde’s movements were becoming sporadic, hardly any consistency left to them until there was a final crescendo of her hips and she was moaning Tatianna’s name into her mouth. She was glad for that muffling, unsure of how loud she might have gotten otherwise. Almost certainly enough that it would have been heard outside the immediate vicinity of the room.

Though she would have liked to continue the liplock, Alaska was forced to pull away in order to catch her breath as she slowly worked herself down from her high. As the pleasure ebbed away she withdrew her fingers and cast a quick look around the room in search of handkerchief or something to wipe them clean. But Tatianna had one final surprise for her…

Carefully clasping her hand around Alaska’s wrist, she locked eyes with blonde as she wrapped her lips around the digits that had just been inside of her partner. Their cheeks were a matching shade of red and it hardly felt like either was breathing as Tatianna thoroughly cleaned the fingers and even provided a little show of her own as she swirled her tongue around each individually before finally pulling off with a shy smile.

Nearly as soon as she could, Alaska crashed their lips back together and the two fell backwards onto the mattress in a graceless heap. None of that distracted them as they let their actions show just how close they felt to one another at that particular moment. Eventually Alaska fell off to the side, exhausted by everything they had done and basking in the glowing smile her partner was giving her at the moment. Under Tatianna’s gaze she truly felt more beautiful than she ever had before, particularly when the brunette placed considerate kiss to her temple and whispered, “Wish I could keep you like this forever.”

Her chest was warm and swelling as she snuggled as deep into Tatianna’s open embrace as she could manage. Her joy could hardly be contained tonight, it truly would be a wretch when she’d have to leave the following morning. But that thought was just a thin trace in the back of her mind. She simply remained focused on the body next to her trailing smooth lines into her bare skin or brushing back locks of hair as they fell into her face.

“We should get you dressed…gonna be cold later.”

“In a minute,” the blonde replied, “Just wanna lay like this a little bit longer.”

*******

In the end Tatianna had to force them both to get up in order to rebutton her shirt and put some kind of layer of clothing over Alaska’s reluctant body. She would have been perfectly content to fall asleep naked but Tatianna at least knew better. So she ended taking charge of finding fresh clothes and persuading Alaska to get into them.

The next morning was heartbreaking as Alaska left for home. In just two more days she’d be off to another country for almost a full month and neither wanted to be separated for that long; even a day felt like too much at times. But off she went and the pair promised to write each other as soon as they could. The first letter came from Alaska informing Tatianna of how she made it there safely and how excited she was to see her friends. Others had arrived that she had not seen in quite a while and though it was intended to be a relatively small get-together, it was shaping up to look quite fun and entertaining.

No one quite knew the purpose of the party but it was nice to see old friends once more, especially now that things had settled down after the proposal scandal. On her end Tatianna informed her partner of all things going on since she had left; what subjects she was learning, new books she had read, sights she had seen…and of course any town gossip that seemed to be of interest. Tatianna was spending quite a bit of time in town as of late but she left out the reasons why in her letters. While Alaska was off having fun and enjoying herself, Tatianna was settling some business with some of the local shops in preparation for her return.

As the final week of their separation dwindled down, Tatianna felt her nerves soaring sky-high. There were still two important tasks she had to complete but she found she was saving them until the very end out of fear of what might result from each of them. Alaska’s letters were a source of comfort for her. It truly felt like she was at her partner’s side with the amount of detail she put into each correspondence but the last letter stated that something utterly amazing had happened but Tatianna would have to wait until Alaska came home in order to find out.

She couldn’t resist rolling her eyes as she read the paragraph teasing her with, 'You’re not going to believe it!’

Typical Alaska.

Again she was reminded of just how much she had come to care about her lover and how much she actually missed her now that she was so close to returning. But all of this proved just how right her decision to pursue their future together was and with a racing heart she found herself standing in front of Alaska’s house still a few days before the blonde was expected to arrive.

Knocking on the door, she was slightly surprised to be greeted by Alaska’s father rather than a servant. He must have been in one of the drawing rooms closer to the front of the house rather than his study as she had expected.

Her cheeks filled with a light shade of pink as she greeted him sunnily, “Good afternoon, sir.”

He looked just as shocked to see her standing there, particularly without her parents accompanying her. Thinking she must have anticipated Alaska’s arrival to have been today, he regretfully informed her, “My Lady! My apologies, my daughter has not arrived back yet.”

“That’s alright,” Tatianna replied having expected that answer. “I was rather hoping she wouldn’t be here. May I come in and speak with you?”

“Yes, of course!” he responded as he hurriedly pushed the door open and allowed her to enter.

Almost immediately his formal manners set in as he led her to the sun room and called for tea and a light snack to be brought in. They exchanged a few pleasantries until a servant arrived with a full tray and as Tatianna took the first sip of her drink, Robert asked, “How can I help you, my Lady?”

Again there was that title but unlike when she simply felt a tad uncomfortable whenever Alaska used it, now it just seemed to make the gravity of her situation sink in once and for all. She felt like a bundle of nerves as she took a deep sip and set the cup on the small table beside her. Mustering up every ounce of courage she had, she spoke carefully, “I…I’d like to propose to your daughter, sir, and…I’d like to get your blessing before I do that.”

She had tried to prepare herself for any kind of reaction he might have had but what she saw still managed to catch her off-guard. There a mix of emotions playing across his face; at first joy, then guilt, sadness, and finally regret as he tried to gently explain to her, “My Lady, please…even you must understand that’s not quite…possible. I have very little dowry for her and-”

“It doesn’t matter,” she told him. And that was the absolute truth. A dowry was the last thing that had ever crossed her mind as she mulled over this decision for the past few months while in the arms of her lover.

Still he was unconvinced by her assertion and continued, “But your father-”

“He said I can marry a woman of my own choosing,” she reminded him firmly even though she felt close to passing out as the blood pounded away in her ears. But still with utter resolution in her voice, she stated, “And I choose Alaska.”

“But why?” he asked desperately, “I mean, we have nothing to offer you. Why wouldn’t you want to make a more…strategic marriage?”

A number of counter arguments ran through her head at that last statement, 'She’ll inherit a title. Our families know each other well and ought to be joined. She’d look absolutely beautiful draped across my arm’ but none of those were the truth and would have been utterly insulting to even speak out loud.

No.

The only reason she wanted to tell him would be the absolute truth and even as her body and voice shook with nerves, she declared, “Because I love her…and I think she loves me too…I believe we could be very happy together.”

Daring to look him directly in the eyes so that he could see honest emotions that she felt for his daughter, she informed him, “A dowry makes no difference to me; I want a companion, not a trophy or accessory. I want to marry the woman I love…and I love Alaska.”

He was silent for quite awhile after that declaration and it scared Tatianna more than she cared to admit but she wasn’t going to run away in fear. She would see this through until the very end, no matter what his reaction would be. And then finally after what felt like ages, she saw his shoulders sag in something almost like relief and a proud smile stretched across his face. His eyes softened greatly from the worried ones he held just a few minutes prior as he said, “I think…she loves you, too…I would be happy to give you both my blessing.”

Her joy at his words could not be contained and forgetting any sort of etiquette training she had, she rushed from her seat to embrace him. His arms around her reminded her of her own father and what she still had left to do but for now she was content to have Alaska’s father’s blessing for their relationship.

To her surprise he insisted upon accompanying her as she told her father the news of her intended proposal. Like Robert, he was stunned at first but with a glance to his friend, a very relieved smile was shared and he wholeheartedly agreed to support her decision. In the background she saw her mother rolling her eyes with an expression for her husband and friend that she would swear had meant, 'I told you so.’

And with that, Tatianna told them all of what she had prepared so far and they agreed to let her do the proposal in her own fashion and not speak a word of it to anyone until the women announced it themselves. The last details were smoothed out the day before Alaska was due to arrive home. Tatianna wanted to give her time to get settled in before bombarding her but Alaska was insistent on seeing her the first moment she could. She was simply dying to tell the brunette of everything that had happened that couldn’t have been put into a letter.

By early afternoon, Tatianna had received word that her partner had arrived home and after an hour she was set to ride over to the estate. Even before she was entirely up the bridleway she found the blonde waiting for her much as had been the case in the past. In fact she was hardly off her horse before Alaska’s arms were around her and their lips were connected again for the first time in weeks. Usually the girls would have had more of a sense of tact and discretion but after the long absence it was hard to blame Alaska for being so impatient.

And as for Tatianna? She knew it was no longer something that needed to be kept secret.

Once her horse was safely set up in a loose box in the stable, Tatianna found herself being ushered up to Alaska’s room so that she could finally share her news. The blonde’s voice could hardly be contained as she pulled Tatianna onto the bed with her and exclaimed with excitement, “Raja asked Manila and Raven to move into her palace and they said yes! They’ve been together almost this whole time since the proposal fiasco had happened! And the party that they invited us all to? It was a commitment ceremony! Like a wedding but you know, more about building the strength of their relationship and future together rather than just signing a marriage contract.”

Even Tatianna had to smile as Alaska gushed about the news. Her happiness for her friends was infectious and even though she didn’t know the other women very well, Tatianna found that she was actually relieved that everything had worked out for them. But it seems the celebration didn’t stop after the commitment ceremony.

Practically squealing as she recalled all of the little details, Alaska continued on while she nestled her way into Tatianna’s side, “Raven and Manila were crowned the day after, too! They’re finally going to be princesses…it’s in title only, but still.”

Her voice dropped low in contemplation but her smile was bright as ever. Tatianna could feel it as Alaska buried herself in her neck and whispered, “I’m so happy for them…I’m glad it all worked out, even if it took them awhile to get there.”

“Me too,” Tatianna whispered back, a little surprised by her own honesty.

For several minutes they laid like that but eventually Tatianna was forced to break the comfortable silence in order to ask, “I want to take you into town tomorrow, is that alright?”

Nodding away completely unaware of her partner’s intentions, Alaska blissfully replied, “Of course…We can take the carriage.”

Exactly what Tatianna had hoped for because if everything went well, they be coming back with quite a load of parcels.

********

The following day, the pair made their way into town bright and early so as to arrive there by late morning. This was at Tatianna’s insistence and Alaska suddenly found herself curious as to what the brunette was up to. She supposed yesterday she ought to have been suspicious but she had still been so wrapped up with all that developed between her friends that her mind could hardly spare any attention for anything else. But now she was focused solely on Tatianna who was looking perfectly smug and composed as she refused to tell Alaska what she had planned for the day.

She knew her tone was becoming whiny but she hated not knowing. In the privacy of the carriage she could get away with far more than if they had just been riding on horses during the journey.

“Please tell me,” she begged as she pressed her side into Tatianna’s.

But the younger woman was more than prepared for this. She was an immovable force and simply shook her head with a teasing grin. This behavior had been going on for the last half hour and likely another 15 minutes or so until they arrived at the first shop.

“Just a hint,” Alaska whined softly as she placed a sweet kiss to the side of the brunette’s neck. “Please, Tati?”

The nickname broke her just like Alaska knew it would but still not as much as she had hoped. Tatianna rolled her eyes and after silencing her partner, if just for a moment, with a gentle kiss to the lips, she relented and said, “I’m taking you to pick out a new dress.”

The blonde was shocked and a light blush rose to her cheeks. Sure, they exchanged gifts before but nothing as expensive as a dress would be. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that but Tatianna was quick to swoop in and try to relieve her discomfort.

“Don’t worry about the price, baby,” she whispered consolingly, “whichever dress you want, it’s yours.”

Alaska was still tempted to decline but Tatianna was insistent and cut her off with a firm but kind, “Don’t argue. Just wait till you see them.”

Nodding her head, the blonde was still apprehensive but trusted her partner. To Tatianna’s surprise she remained silent and lost in her own mind for the remainder of the trip and the quiet sparked her nerves quite a bit. When Alaska was prodding her it gave her some distraction from what she was about to do but now that there was no conversation, no matter how one-sided, to fill the air? It left her with too much time to worry about all that could go wrong.

But to her relief they arrived at the shop before long and as she was helping Alaska out of the carriage and into the shop she reminder her lover softly, “Remember, any dress you want, just tell me and it’ll be yours, I promise.”

Still the blonde was silent but she nodded her head with a shy but grateful smile. Her eyes hardly left Tatianna’s frame until they had entered the shopfront and she finally had a chance to look around. There were beautiful dresses from wall to wall but something was odd. She wasn’t sure what it was at first until she finally realized there was a stark lack of color to be seen.

Her voice held nothing but confusion as she turned to face Tatianna and say, “They’re all white…”

She trailed off as she found her crimson cheek partner pulling out a box and flipping the top open. A gorgeous ring was inside but Alaska’s eyes immediately made their way to Tatianna’s. She was beginning to drop to her knee but before she even made it a few inches or was able to say more than, “Alaska, will you-” she was cut off with an adamant, choked, “Yes!”

Alaska’s arms were around her and Tatianna could feel her body shaking with happiness even as a stream of tears dripped onto her neck. She found herself laughing as her own eyes began to flood and complained lightheartedly, “I had a whole speech, you know!”

“Later,” Alaska replied through her sniffling, “My answer’s 'yes.’ It’ll always be 'yes.’”

[romancatholicreflections]

2nd December >> Daily Reflection/Commentary on Today’s First Reading (Daniel 7:15-27) for Roman Catholics on Saturday of the Thirty-Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Commentary on (Daniel 7:15-27)

Our last reading from the book of Daniel is an interpretation of the vision that we read yesterday.

Daniel says that he is deeply troubled and alarmed by the visions he has had of the four beasts and the ‘son of man’. So he approaches “one of those standing by” for an explanation. One of those standing by must refer to one of the thousands of angels serving at the throne of the Ancient One.

Daniel then receives an explanation of what he has seen. The four beasts represent four kings who will emerge. But those who receive real power are the “holy ones of the Most High”, namely, God’s holy people. It is they who will receive true kingship, which will last forever.

Daniel then asks about the fourth beast, who is different from all the others with iron teeth and bronze claws and who ate its victims before crushing them and trampling on their remains. In yesterday’s reading we saw that this fourth beast represented the kingdom of Macedonia with King Philip followed by his famous son, Alexander the Great, who swept all before him and reached as far as India with his armies.

Daniel also asks about the ten horns on the fourth beast’s head, which we saw represented the 10 kingdoms which emerged after Alexander’s death, and also about the extra horn which sprouted and displaced three of the original horns. This extra horn we saw represents the Seleucid King Antiochus IV, who wiped out his rivals on the way to power.

Daniel asks why this horn has eyes and a mouth full of arrogance and looks more impressive than its counterparts. This is the horn which is making war on the “holy ones”, in other words, the Jewish people. He is proving to be the stronger until the Ancient One comes and passes judgement in favour of the “holy ones”, when the time comes for them to assume kingship.

In response to Daniel’s questions the angel (in the name of God) replies:

The fourth beast is the fourth dynasty and different from all the others. It will devour the whole world, trample it underfoot and crush it. Compared to the other dynasties, the short reign of Alexander was extraordinary (he died in his 30s) in conquering territories from Macedonia to Egypt, from Syria to India.

As already explained, the ten horns are the ten kingdoms which emerged (not necessarily at the same time) after the death of Alexander when the territories he conquered were divided among his leading generals. But, after them, comes another, who is different from them, and who seizes power by ousting three other claimants to the throne. This, of course, is Antiochus IV Epiphanes, the scourge of the Jews and who is the real focus of interest in all these stories in Daniel. He is the king we saw last week in the readings from Maccabees. “He will insult the Most High and torment the holy ones of the Most High.” He is the one who planned to “alter the seasons and the Law”. In other words, he tried to ban the Jewish Sabbath and feast-days and to get Jews to abandon the Law and follow the king’s hellenising policies, which they regarded as idolatrous.

And so, says the angel to Daniel, “the Saints will be handed over to him for a time, two times, and half a time”. This strange expression is not as obscure as it sounds. The word ‘time’ here represents one year. Hence, when added up, we get three and a half years, which corresponds to the length of the persecution the Jews experienced under Antiochus. As ‘seven’ is a perfect number in Scripture, half of that implies great imperfection. The book of Revelation calculates the same period as 42 months or 30 days each, totally 1,260 days (Rev 11:2-3). However, in Revelation it is persecution in the Roman Empire which is being spoken about. In all these texts, as throughout Daniel, the figure stands for a period of distress allowed by God for a limited time after which there will be relief for the faithful.

Finally, comes the message of hope. “The court will sit” – that is the court mentioned yesterday over which the Ancient One presides in majesty. Then “he”, that is, Antiochus will be stripped of his royal authority and reduced to nothing.

Then the “kingship and rule and the splendours of all the kingdoms under heaven” will be given to the “holy ones” of the Most High. His power is eternal and one which every other empire must serve and obey.

(Incidentally, the Aramaic version of the book ends here; from chapter 8 to the end was written in Greek.)

Considering that these words were written in the midst of persecution and before the successful revolt of the Maccabees, they represent a great spirit of hope and confidence in the outcome and in God’s protection. Nor were they to be disappointed. Antiochus did indeed fall.

Later Jesus will come and inaugurate the kingdom which begins with him and will last forever. This is a kingdom of which we, too, sincerely hope to be a part. This messianic vision was one which the author never saw realised himself. We now have our Messiah-King in Jesus Christ. He is the “Son of Man” who now sits at the right hand of the “Ancient One”, the Father. And, as the reading predicts, we share in Christ’s kingship. Through our baptism we become, with Christ and in Christ, priest, prophet and king. They are three titles which we must take seriously and which we must realise are to become active in the lives of every single Christian.

Because, as has been said here more than once before, the guarantee of our future is how we perform in the present, how we respond to the call of our King. And that is the principal lesson as we arrive at the end of this liturgical year.

And, so it is on that confident note of hope and expectancy, which we know to have been fulfilled in the person of Jesus, that we come to the end of our Scripture readings for this year.

[dailybiblelessons]

The Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

Revised Common Lectionary Proper 16 Roman Catholic Proper 21

Complementary Hebrew Scripture: Isaiah 51:1-6

Listen to me, you that pursue righteousness,  you that seek the Lord.

Look to the rock from which you were hewn,  and to the quarry from which you were dug. Look to Abraham your father  and to Sarah who bore you;  for he was but one when I called him,  but I blessed him and made him many.

For the Lord will comfort Zion;  he will comfort all her waste places,  and will make her wilderness like Eden,  her desert like the garden of the Lord;  joy and gladness will be found in her,  thanksgiving and the voice of song.

Listen to me, my people,  and give heed to me, my nation;  for a teaching will go out from me,  and my justice for a light to the peoples.

I will bring near my deliverance swiftly,  my salvation has gone out  and my arms will rule the peoples;  the coastlands wait for me,  and for my arm they hope.

Lift up your eyes to the heavens,  and look at the earth beneath;  for the heavens will vanish like smoke,  the earth will wear out like a garment,  and those who live on it will die like gnats;  but my salvation will be forever,  and my deliverance will never be ended.

Semi-continuous Hebrew Scripture: Exodus 1:8-2:10

Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph. He said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we. Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, or they will increase and, in the event of war, join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land.” Therefore they set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labor. They built supply cities, Pithom and Rameses, for Pharaoh. But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread, so that the Egyptians came to dread the Israelites. The Egyptians became ruthless in imposing tasks on the Israelites, and made their lives bitter with hard service in mortar and brick and in every kind of field labor. They were ruthless in all the tasks that they imposed on them.

The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shiphrah and the other Puah, “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.” But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live. So the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and said to them, “Why have you done this, and allowed the boys to live?” The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them.” So God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied and became very strong. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families. Then Pharaoh commanded all his people, “Every boy that is born to the Hebrews you shall throw into the Nile, but you shall let every girl live.”

Now a man from the house of Levi went and married a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a fine baby, she hid him three months. When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it. When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him, “This must be one of the Hebrews' children,” she said. Then his sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, “Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Yes.” So the girl went and called the child's mother. Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed it. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

Complementary Psalm 138

I give you thanks, O Lord, with my whole heart;  before the gods I sing your praise;  I bow down toward your holy temple  and give thanks to your name  for your steadfast love and your faithfulness;  for you have exalted your name and your word above everything.

On the day I called, you answered me, you increased my strength of soul.

All the kings of the earth shall praise you, O Lord,  for they have heard the words of your mouth. They shall sing of the ways of the Lord,  for great is the glory of the Lord. For though the Lord is high, he regards the lowly;  but the haughty he perceives from far away.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble,  you preserve me against the wrath of my enemies;  you stretch out your hand,  and your right hand delivers me.

The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me;  your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.

Semi-continuous Psalm 124

If it had not been the Lord who was on our side—  let Israel now say—  if it had not been the Lord who was on our side,  when our enemies attacked us,  then they would have swallowed us up alive,  when their anger was kindled against us;  then the flood would have swept us away,  the torrent would have gone over us;  then over us would have gone the raging waters.

Blessed be the Lord, who has not given us  as prey to their teeth. We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers;  the snare is broken, and we have escaped.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,  who made heaven and earth.

New Testament Epistle Lesson: Romans 12:1-8

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness.

New Testament Gospel Lesson: Matthew 16:13-20

Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Year A Ordinary 21, RCL Proper 16, Catholic Proper 21 Sunday

Bible verses from The New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All right reserved. Selections from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings, copyright 1985 by the Consultation on Common Texts. Image Credit: Who? image from via The Vanderbilt Divinity Library, cropped and text added by Michael Gilbertson.