#tree pruning north shore
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Arborist Sydney North Shore
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Are you tossing up whether to hire an arborist Sydney North Shore or attempt a DIY, there are a number of factors you should consider before making your choice! An arborist is a person who is professionally trained in the practice of arboriculture. Arborists can assist with tree removals, pruning, planting, stump cutting, creating structural support, removing hazardous plants and more. They can perform work on even the tallest of trees! One of the main benefits to hiring an arborists Sydney North Shore is that they are highly trained in proper tree care. For example, if you’re planting trees and shrubs and find they keep dying, an arborist will be able to take a look at your plants and put you on the proper path for proper tree care and maintenance. An arborist will also have access to all the right tools and safety equipment to complete the job. Click here
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northshoretreeloppers · 14 days ago
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North Shore Tree Loppers provides professional tree lopping North Shore services for residential and commercial properties. Our certified arborists specialize in safe tree removal, pruning, and maintenance across the North Shore region. With years of experience and fully insured operations, we deliver reliable tree care solutions that enhance property safety and aesthetics. Contact North Shore Tree Loppers today for expert tree lopping services and comprehensive arboricultural care.
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mownow123 · 2 months ago
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Revitalizing North Shore and Auckland Gardens
Precision Lawn Care on the North Shore8
In Auckland’s picturesque North Shore, where lush greenery complements coastal charm, maintaining a pristine lawn is a point of pride for homeowners. Lawn Mowing North Shore services have become essential for keeping these outdoor spaces vibrant and inviting. Skilled professionals bring precision and care to every job, using advanced equipment to deliver clean, even cuts that enhance the aesthetic of properties from Takapuna to Browns Bay. Beyond aesthetics, regular mowing promotes healthy grass growth, preventing issues like weed infestations or uneven patches that can detract from a garden’s appeal.
The process is tailored to the unique needs of each lawn, factoring in grass type, soil conditions, and seasonal changes. For instance, summer calls for slightly longer cuts to protect grass from heat stress, while winter requires careful attention to avoid compacting wet soil. These experts also edge pathways and garden beds, creating crisp lines that elevate the overall look. Homeowners benefit from flexible scheduling, with options for weekly, fortnightly, or one-off services, ensuring their lawns remain impeccable without the hassle of personal upkeep. This dedication to quality transforms North Shore gardens into welcoming spaces for relaxation and gatherings.
Comprehensive Garden Transformations in Auckland
Beyond mowing, Auckland’s homeowners seek holistic solutions to maintain their outdoor sanctuaries, and Garden Clean Up Auckland services deliver just that. These comprehensive clean-ups tackle everything from overgrown shrubs to cluttered garden beds, restoring order and beauty to neglected spaces. Whether it’s a suburban backyard in Albany or a sprawling property in Devonport, these services breathe new life into gardens, making them functional and visually stunning. The process often begins with clearing debris, such as fallen leaves, branches, or weeds, which can smother plants and harbor pests.
Professionals then prune trees and hedges, shaping them to enhance both health and aesthetics. Overgrown areas are tamed, and soil is aerated or enriched to support future growth. For gardens plagued by invasive species, targeted weed removal ensures native plants thrive. These clean-ups are particularly popular before major events like house sales or outdoor parties, as they instantly boost curb appeal. By addressing every detail, from mulching to waste removal, these services create a polished, low-maintenance garden that homeowners can enjoy year-round, even in Auckland’s variable climate.
Enhancing Outdoor Living
The synergy between Lawn Mowing North Shore and broader garden clean-up services creates a seamless approach to outdoor care. A freshly mowed lawn serves as the foundation of a beautiful garden, while a thorough clean-up elevates the entire space, ensuring every element—from flower beds to pathways—complements the greenery. In Auckland, where outdoor living is a way of life, this combination transforms backyards into extensions of the home, perfect for barbecues, children’s play, or quiet evenings under the stars.
These services are customized to suit diverse properties, from compact urban gardens to expansive rural estates. Professionals work closely with homeowners to understand their vision, whether it’s a minimalist lawn with clean lines or a lush garden bursting with native flora. They also offer advice on sustainable practices, such as drought-resistant plants or organic fertilizers, aligning with Auckland’s eco-conscious ethos. This personalized approach ensures that every garden reflects the owner’s lifestyle while enhancing the natural beauty of the North Shore and beyond.
Sustainability and Community Value
Both Garden Clean Up Auckland and lawn mowing services prioritize sustainability, reflecting Auckland’s commitment to environmental stewardship. Professionals use fuel-efficient mowers and eco-friendly products to minimize their carbon footprint. Garden waste is often composted or recycled, reducing landfill contributions. For homeowners, this means a guilt-free way to maintain stunning outdoor spaces while supporting the region’s green initiatives. Regular maintenance also prevents costly issues, like soil erosion or plant disease, preserving the long-term health of gardens.
These services add significant value to properties, particularly in Auckland’s competitive real estate market. A well-maintained lawn and tidy garden signal care and attention, attracting buyers and increasing sale prices. Even for those not selling, a beautiful outdoor space enhances quality of life, offering a retreat from the city’s hustle. North Shore residents, in particular, benefit from services that understand the area’s unique microclimates, ensuring lawns and gardens thrive despite coastal winds or heavy rains.
Crafting Auckland’s Green Legacy
The rise of Lawn Mowing North Shore and Garden Clean Up Auckland services is reshaping how residents care for their outdoor spaces. These professionals do more than cut grass or clear debris—they craft inviting, sustainable gardens that reflect Auckland’s vibrant spirit. From the meticulous lines of a freshly mowed lawn to the revitalized beauty of a cleaned-up garden, their work transforms properties into havens of relaxation and pride.
As Auckland continues to grow, its gardens remain a testament to the city’s love for nature and community. These services empower homeowners to maintain stunning outdoor spaces without sacrificing time or effort, ensuring every lawn and garden shines. Whether it’s a cozy backyard or a sprawling estate, the expertise behind these transformations is building a greener, more beautiful Auckland, one garden at a time.
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landgarden12 · 1 year ago
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When To Plan Your Landscaping Project In Turramurra: Seasonal Considerations And Timely Tips
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Planning a landscaping project in Turramurra, situated in Sydney's North Shore, involves strategic timing to achieve optimal results amidst the region's unique climate and environmental conditions. Here’s a guide on when to embark on your landscaping journey in Turramurra:
1. Spring Renewal: 
Spring is an ideal time to kickstart landscaping projects in Turramurra. The weather begins to warm up after the cooler winter months, providing favourable conditions for planting new foliage, flowers, and trees. The soil is typically moist from winter rains, promoting healthy root establishment, while mild temperatures support rapid growth and establishment of plants before the onset of summer heat.
2. Summer Preparations: 
While summer in Turramurra can be hot and dry, it’s a crucial period for preparing your landscape to withstand the season's challenges. Early summer is optimal for installing irrigation systems and drought-resistant plants that can thrive in the region's warmer months. Mulching newly planted areas helps retain moisture and regulate soil temperature, ensuring plants remain resilient during heatwaves.
3. Autumn Transitions: 
Autumn offers a transitional period ideal for certain landscaping tasks in Turramurra. As temperatures cool down, it’s a suitable time for planting trees and shrubs that prefer cooler conditions. The soil remains warm from summer, encouraging root growth even as air temperatures decrease. Additionally, autumn colours can inspire design choices, with plants like deciduous trees providing vibrant foliage before winter dormancy.
4. Winter Planning and Hardscaping: 
While winter in Turramurra is typically quieter for plant growth, it’s an opportune time for planning and implementing hardscaping elements. Projects such as building retaining walls, installing pathways, or constructing outdoor structures can proceed without impacting plant health. Additionally, winter pruning helps shape plants and prepare them for vigorous growth in the upcoming spring.
5. Consider Microclimates: 
Turramurra's diverse microclimates, influenced by factors such as elevation, proximity to bushland, and aspect, can significantly impact landscaping success. Before commencing a project, assess your property's unique microclimate to choose plants and design features that thrive in specific conditions. Coastal areas may benefit from salt-tolerant plants, while inland locations may require windbreaks or shade structures.
6. Seasonal Maintenance: 
Beyond initial installation, seasonal maintenance plays a critical role in sustaining a vibrant landscape in Turramurra. Regular tasks such as fertilisation, weed control, and pruning should align with plant growth cycles and seasonal weather patterns. For instance, spring fertilisation encourages vigorous growth, while autumn pruning prepares plants for winter dormancy.
7. Professional Consultation: 
Consulting with a local landscaping professional in Turramurra can provide valuable insights into optimal timing for your project. Experienced contractors understand regional climate nuances, soil conditions, and plant preferences, offering tailored advice to achieve your landscaping goals effectively and sustainably.
By strategically timing your landscaping project in Turramurra based on seasonal considerations, microclimate assessments, and local regulations, you can enhance your outdoor space's beauty, functionality, and resilience throughout the year. Whether you're embarking on a spring planting spree or planning winter hardscaping projects, thoughtful timing ensures your landscape thrives in harmony with Turramurra's natural environment.
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treeremovalnorthsydney · 1 year ago
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Tree Removal North Shore
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Branch out tree trained professionals, your neighborhood tree specialists situated in the eastern rural areas however covering Sydney our staff are all UK and Australian qualified Arborists with north of 15 years experience. Our work goes from little prunes to huge evacuations, reliably accomplishing the best outcomes.
Tree Removal North Shore
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bethestaryouareradio · 1 year ago
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The Garden Melting Pot
“When a flower opens, the whole world appears.” Zen Saying
Unless you are a member of an Indigenous tribe, you are a part of the great melting pot that we call the United States of America. Even if your ancestors arrived on the Mayflower, you are still not considered a native. Like people, plants have immigrated to our shores and have found love, compatibility, and regions to survive and thrive. We often read about the need to plant more “native” plants, but what are they? Are “natives” any better than “non-natives” that have acclimated to our climate, and soil while claiming our hearts?
The definition of “native” by the United States Department of Agriculture’s US Forest Service indicates that a native plant species has “evolved and occurs naturally in a particular region, ecosystem, and habitat. Plant species native to North America are generally recognized as those occurring on the continent before European settlement.” For example, California poppies, the state flower of California, are native from the slopes of Western Oregon to Baja. However, people assume that Echinacea purpurea, known as Purple Coneflower, is native to our area, while in fact, it is only endemic to states east of the Rockies. Yet borders are not observed by plants so perhaps a better description of a “native” would be a plant that has adapted over time to thrive in conditions that were like their endemic habitats.
Because true natives are well-suited to the climate and soils of a region, gardeners believe that they won’t require as much attention. But being “native” doesn’t mean that a species doesn’t require water, fertilizer, pest protection, and maintenance. Natives are not immune to drought, predators, temperature fluctuations, and other garden stressors. Our landscapes are not natural environments. Our gardens are man/woman made!  Forests, woodlands, deserts, and marshes have evolved over millennia to be biodiverse and resilient.
Do we want to only plant natives instead of non-natives? My answer is a firm no! I have always advocated for “planting the world” as there are so many species that thrive in our locale with origins from around the globe. Many revered non-natives have acclimated to our soil, weather, and stressors providing food and refuge for insects, wildlife, and birds while living in harmony with native species. Would you want to live without tulips, daffodils, Asian lilies, camellias, azaleas, peonies, Birds of Paradise, tulip magnolia trees, or Calla lilies? What about the numerous houseplants that we use to beautify our indoor facilities? If you love orchids, bromeliads, anthuriums, philodendrons, crotons, or Schefflera, you’ll agree that tropicals and non-natives are just as critical as natives to ecological cohesion.
There are trees, shrubs, grasses, and numerous bloomers that are natives. There are over twenty species of oaks and two species of redwoods that are native to California.
Here is a short list of my favorite natives that prosper in my landscape.
California poppy
California fuchsia
California milkweed
Blue-eyed grass
Morning glory
Western yarrow
Ceanothus
Agave
Prickly Pear
Oak
Redwood
Balance the diversity and aesthetic appeal to create a magnificent garden melting pot filled with both natives and non-natives. Plan to plant species that have adapted to our local climate, avoid any invasive varieties, refrain from using insecticides and pesticides, and maintain your garden as needed. Remember that even “natives” will need pruning and maintenance. When you incorporate a harmonious atmosphere of many different types of plants from around the globe, pollinators and other creatures will be supported
.My family immigrated from southern Italy and the Italian canton of Switzerland bringing with them their favorite seeds from “the old country”. The descendants of those heirloom seeds are beloved plants shining in my garden today. Because I was born in California, I often refer to myself as a California native. Yet, just like the plants in my garden, I am just part of the marvelous melting pot of cultures from around the globe.
Embrace a more diverse and resilient ecosystem by planting a salad of natives and non-natives in your garden. Appreciate the differences. When the flowers bloom, the whole world appears!
Happy Gardening. Happy Growing. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Cynthia Brian’s Goddess Gardener Monthly Guide
ü  REPOT houseplants that have outgrown their containers. Gently loosen the roots after you have removed the plant from the original pot. Add new potting soil to a bigger planter. Position your plant in the center, fill the edges with new soil, and pat down the soil. Water thoroughly. It may take a bit of adjustment until your plant will flourish.
ü  AERATE lawns and leave the plugs on the grass as fertilizer.
ü  SHARPEN and clean tools for the spring workload.
ü  HARVEST oranges.
ü  BUY pots of oxalis, also known as shamrocks, to decorate for St. Patrick’s Day.
ü  PLANT milkweed to attract Monarch butterflies.
ü  START weeding to get a jump start on spring plantings.
ü  DISPOSE of fallen camellia blossoms until bushes are finished blooming to prevent disease.
For more gardening advice for all seasons, check out Growing with the Goddess Gardenerat https://www.CynthiaBrian.com/books. Raised in the vineyards of Napa County, Cynthia Brian is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com. 
Her newest children’s picture book, Family Forever, from the series, Stella Bella’s Barnyard Adventures is available now at https://www.CynthiaBrian.com/online-store. Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. [email protected] 
Read Lamorinda Weekly: https://lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1802/Digging-Deep-with-Goddess-Gardener-Cynthia-Brian-The-Garden-Melting-Pot.html
Share StarStyle® Empowerment 
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samstreeservicensw · 2 years ago
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Tree pruning is a crucial aspect of tree care that involves the selective removal of branches to enhance the health, appearance, and safety of trees. Tree pruning Pymble service by Sam's Tree Services North Shore helps to maintain the structural integrity of trees, prevents potential hazards, and encourages healthy growth.
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babypandawrites · 4 years ago
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Allies, Pt. 7
Bato of the Water Tribe
Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 3,614 Summary: Meeting Bato and getting to see Southern Water Tribe things was nice, but, the visit probably could have gone better if you were being honest. 
-Navigation- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Atla Masterlist- 
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“Where did those two go off too?”  Y/n took a look around the forest area, as she walked with Katara.  “They’re over there… what are they doing?” Katara pointed off in the direction Aang and Sokka were at, before walking over to them. Y/n followed her. It seemed like they were looking for something.  “Did someone lose something?”  “No, we found something.” Aang looked in a bush as he spoke.  Y/n approached a tree that had burn marks on it. She ran her hand along them, eyebrows furrowing together. “Firebenders we’re here.”  Sokka came and stood next to her, looking at the tree. “There was a battle. Water Tribe warriors ambushed a group of firebenders.” He looked down, and began walking down the hill. “The firebenders fought back, but the warriors drove them down this hill…”  She lingered for a moment, letting her eyes fall shut as her nails dug into the burnt wood. Part of her wondered if her brother had been here. Sighing, she shook the thoughts away, and was quick to catch up with the others just as they reached a beach.  “Wait! Look!” Katara pointed at the beach shore. There was a water tribe boat. “It’s one of our boats!” Sokka ran over to it, the other three following.  Once they’d gotten to it, the four looked up at it.  “Is this… Dad’s boat?”  Sokka rubbed his hand along the ship’s prow, smiling. “No, but it’s from his fleet. Dad was here.” 
They’d stayed at the beach, near the Water Tribe boat, and set up camp there. Appa and the four of them were around a campfire. Aang and Katara were asleep, Sokka sat awake tending to the fire. Y/n had yet to fall asleep, but still laid on her back like she had, and arm draped over her eyes. Sighing, she sat up. Hearing her, Sokka was pushed from his thoughts, jumping in place slightly.  He looked over to her with a confused look. “I thought you were asleep.”  She shook her head softly. Moving to sit next to him, she pulled her knees up to her chest. “I wasn’t able to. You can’t either?”  “No.” He went quiet for a moment, gaze looking back to the fire. “How come you can’t sleep?”  Resting her chin on her knees, she wasn’t able to answer before he spoke up again. “Is it because of your brother? Katara mentioned he was fighting in the war like our dad a while back.”  “Yeah. I’m guessing you're being kept up because of your dad..?”   He offered a nod. “He was here.” Pausing, he looked at her again. Her expression was melancholy. “Maybe your brother was here too, do you know what fleet he’s in?”  Right, Sokka thinks that…  “I don’t know. I wasn’t ever told anything more than he was going to fight in the war...”  Y/n breathed out a sigh, tracing patterns into the sand with her finger. Sokka placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  Their heads snapped to the side, upon hearing a sound. When they stood up, Sokka gently nudged her behind him.  “Who’s there?”  A bandaged man who came from the Water Tribe started to slowly approach the camp. He looked between the two for a short moment. “Sokka?” His guard dropped. “Bato?”  Aang woke up. “Who the what now?” Katara, also awake now, got up off the ground. “Bato!”  The man, Bato, hugged the two. “Sokka! Katara! It is so good to see you two! Oh, you’ve grown so much.”  Aang bowed slightly. “Hi, I’m Aang.” Y/n offered a small wave. “Y/n.”  Bato gave a nod of greeting to the two.  “Where’s Dad?” “Is he here?”  “No, he and the other warriors should be in the eastern Earth Kingdom by now.”  They all shivered as the wind picked up.  “Brr! This is no place for a reunion. Let’s get inside.” Bato put his arms over Katara and Sokka’s shoulders, and motioned for Aang and Y/n to follow them. Appa got up and walked away from the campfire after them. 
Bato led them to a monastery complex, speaking as they walked through the main gate. “After I was wounded, your father carried me to this abbey. The sisters have cared for me ever since.” He turned his head to one of the nearby women. “Superior, these are Hakoda’s children. They’ve been traveling with a friend of theirs and the Avatar. I found them by my boat.”  The woman bowed. “Young Avatar, it gives me great joy to be in your presence. Welcome to our abbey.”  Aang bowed as well. “Thank you! It’s truly an honor to be here. If there’s anything-” Sokka cut him off. “What smells so good, Bato?” He sniffed the air. “The sisters craft ointments and perfumes.” “Perfume? Maybe we can dump some on Appa? Because he stinks so much! Am I right?” None of them looked amused.  “You have your father’s wit.”  Bato led them around once again, this time to where it was assumed he was staying.  Katara looked around excitedly. “Bato! It looks like home!” Sokka joined her. “Everything’s here, even the pelts!”  The pair examined the room, Y/n quickly joining them. She looked about in amazement, carefully dragging her hand along one of the pelts. “Woah…” Sokka glanced at her with raised eyebrows.  “You act like you’ve never seen this kind of stuff before.” “I haven’t.”  His head turned to the side in confusion. “Didn’t you say your grandma was from the tribe?” “She is. My mom didn’t live in the South Pole when I was born though. I’ve never been.”  “Oh, sorry I just assumed that-” “It’s a reasonable assumption.”  Aang stood by the doorway, holding a disconcerted Momo. “Yeah, nothing’s more comforting than dead animal skins.”  Katara’s attention was drawn to a pot in the center of the room. She opened it up. “No way! Stewed sea prunes?” Bato chuckled. “Help yourself.” “Dad could eat a whole barrel of these things.” Sokka moved to sit down next to her sister, by the pot. He patted the ground next to him. “Y/n, come here you gotta try these.”  Y/n sat down next to him, while Aang sat back from the group. She was a little hesitant to try it when she was handed a bowl. Honestly they weren’t terrible, but she couldn’t see herself eating more than the bit she’d been given.  “Bato, is it true you and Dad lassoed an arctic hippo?” Katara asked.  “It was your father’s idea. He just dragged me along. Well, the hippo did the dragging.” “Hey, I ride animals too! One time there was this giant eel-” Sokka cut Aang off. “So who was it that came up with the great blubber fiasco?”  Bato laughed. “You knew about that?”  “Everyone does.” “What’s that story?”  Y/n glanced over at Aang, before looking back at the others. “Yeah, I’m curious too.”  “It’s a long one, some other time.”  She furrowed her eyebrows together as Sokka waved off their curiosity. Setting the bowl she held down, she walked over to Aang- who was dejectedly sitting by the door with Momo -and sat next to him. He muttered something under his breath, the most she caught was about them being ignored. She placed a hand on his shoulder.  “They’re just excited about seeing Bato, I don’t think they mean to brush us off like that.”  “I know…” He sighed. “You should go back over there Y/n… You’re a part of their Tribe too.”  She shrugged. “Barely.”  He put his hand on her back, and nudged her forward a bit. “I’m also pretty sure Sokka wants you over there… Momo and I will just hang out back here, alright?”  “You're sure?” “Yes, go.” “Okay, okay..”  Getting up, Y/n went over and took her spot next to Sokka again, listening in on the story Bato was telling. She didn’t catch it all though, something about a water spirit. 
“There’s something I should tell you kids. I’m expecting a message from your father.”  Katara’s eyes lit up at the news. “Really?” “When?”  “Any day now. Your father said he’d send a message when they found the rendezvous point. If you can wait here until the message arrives you can come with me and see your father again.” Bato paused, looking at Y/n. “You can come too, your brother might be there.”  She laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that.” The siblings were a lot more thrilled at this news than her, or Aang.  “It’s been over two years since we’ve seen Dad! That would be so incredible. Katara?” “I do really miss him. It would be great to see Dad.”  “It’s been far too long, hasn’t it? I’m not sure when word will arrive, but when it does..” Sokka’s expression dropped slightly. “It would be great, but we can’t. We have to take Aang to the North Pole first.”  Katara nodded in agreement. “Even if we had time to wait for the message, who knows how far we’d have to travel. We don’t have time for a long detour.”  Y/n breathed out a small sigh of relief. “Yeah, they’re right.”  “I’m sure your father and your brother would understand and both be proud that you're all helping the Avatar. Y/n, if you let me know your brother's name I’ll tell him you're doing alright if he’s there.” “Uh.. his name is Mozi.”  “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”  Y/n glanced over to the door as it opened. Had Aang left…? “Hey everyone! Sorry I was gone so long.” Katara looked over as well. “Hey Aang, I didn’t notice you left.” “Yup, but now I’m back. Sure… could go for some delicious sea prunes!” He spoke with an exaggerated happiness, grabbing a bowl as he sat down. He began to munch down on the sea prunes, but spit them back out a few moments later.  They all looked at him strangely. 
The next day, Bato took them back out to his boat. “This ship is sentimental to me. It was built by my father.”  “Is this the boat he took you ice-dodging in?” “Yeah, it’s got the scar to prove it. Huh. How about you, Sokka? You must have some good stories from your first time ice-dodging?” Katara stepped into the conversation. “He never got to go. Dad left before he was old enough.” “Oh, I forgot you were too young.” Y/n raised an eyebrow, looking between the three. “What’s ice-dodging?”  Aang moved to stand next to her, also curious.  “It’s a rite of passage for young water tribe members. When you turn fourteen your Dad takes you.. You know what.” Bato placed a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “You’re about to find out.”  Sokka, who’d been a little down before, smiled.  They’d all boarded up onto Bato’s boat, it sailed through the waves near shore.  “Ice-dodging is a ceremonial test of wisdom, bravery and trust. In our village it was done by weaving a boat through a field of icebergs.” Sokka looked at him confused. “How are we supposed to ice-dodge without ice?”  “You will be dodging… those.” He pointed ahead, to a thicket of stalagmite like rocks.  Y/n gulped.  “Sokka, you steer and call the shots. Lead wisely. Katara, Y/n, you two secure the mainsail. The winds can be brutal, so be brave. Aang, you control the jib, without your steady hand we all go down. Your position is all about trust.”  Aang looked around nervously. “I know that! Why wouldn’t I know that? I’m the Avatar! I know about trust.”  Y/n gave him an odd look, but didn’t say anything as she took her position at the mainsail with Katara.  Bato sat down at the bow. “For this to be done right I cannot help. You pass or fail on your own.”  The four got ready at their respective position, looking at the rocks ahead with fright.  “Alright! Aang, ease up on the jib. Katara, Y/n, steady! Aang, less sail!” Sokka directed them, pulling the tiller to his right. “Katara, Y/n, give him room!”  They all did their part, weaving the boat in and out of the rocks.  “Aang! Helm to lee! Helm ot lee!” “What does that even mean?!”  All four of them struggled, but were narrowly able to miss a huge pile of rock. Sokka wiped the sweat from his brow.  “Great job guys!”  The ship entered a cul de sac ringed by jagged rocks, at a high speed. Katara’s eyes widened, as she looked back at her brother.  “There’s no way through!” “We can make it!”  Bato stood up. “Sokka, you’ve already proven yourself, maybe we should-” Sokka cut him off, and was quick to tell everyone what to do. “Aang, I’m gonna need air in that sail! Katara, I want you to bend as much water as you can between us and those rocks! Y/n, I need you to keep the sail under control! Now!”  Aang started to push wave after wave of air into the sail, while Y/n did her best to keep it steady. Katara raised the ship up on an accelerating wave of water. The wave carried the ship safely over the ring of jagged rocks. Sokka fell back against the tiller with a sigh of relief, as the others smiled for their accomplishment.  Back at the beach, Bato scooped some black face paint from a bowl. “The spirits of water bear witness to these marks. For Sokka, the mark of the wise, the same mark your father earned.” He marked Sokka’s head with a dot and a half circle above it.  “For Katara, the mark of the brave. Your courage inspires us.” He marked Katara’s head with a crescent shape.  “For Y/n, the mark of the brave as well. You may not have grown with us, but today you’ve proved your place in the Water Tribe.” He also marked Y/n’s head with a crescent shape.  “And for Aang, the mark of the trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe.” He marked Aang’s head with a half circle.  “I can’t.”  Katara looked at him with surprise. “Of course you can!” Aang wiped the mark from his head. “No, you can’t trust me.” He backed away, head hung low. “Aang, what are you talking about.”  He held out a crumpled scroll. “A messenger gave this to me for Bato. You have to understand, I was afraid you’d-” “This is the map to our father!” Sokka looked at Aang, surprise and pain written on his face. “You had it the whole time!? How could you?” Aang shriveled back. “Well, you can go to the North Pole on your own! I’m going to find Dad.” Sokka started to stalk away angrily.  Bato looked between the two boys. “Now Sokka, I think you should-” Sokka interrupted him. “Katara, are you with me?” Katara looked at Aang, before lowering her gaze to the ground. “I’m with you, Sokka.” She turned away. “Y/n?”  Glancing between Sokka and Aang, Y/n mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Aang. She turned and followed after the others. 
Back at the abbey Y/n, Sokka, Katara and Bato were all getting ready to leave, putting on their backpacks. After Katara had a short exchange with Aang, the four of them walked out of the gate of the abbey.  As they walked down the road, a wolf could be heard in the distance. They stopped to listen.  Katara frowned. “That wolf sounds so sad.”  “It’s probably wounded.” Sokka commented.  “No, it’s been separated from the pack. I understand that pain. It’s how I felt when the Water Tribe warriors had to leave me behind. They were my family and being apart from them was more painful than my wounds.”  Y/n’s gaze dropped to the ground, as she gripped the straps of her backpack. “I understand that pain too…” She didn’t elaborate past that. Bato gave her a sympathetic look.  Katara looked at her brother with concern, noticing his sadness. “Sokka?”  He was silent for a moment. “We need to go back. I want to see Dad, but helping Aang is where we’re needed the most.”  “You’re right.” Katara smiled.  Though still downtrough, Y/n nodded in agreement. Bato placed a hand on each of the siblings shoulders. “Your father will understand. And I know he’s proud of you.” “Thanks, Bato.” “I know where to go from here.” He handed Sokka the map. “Take this in case you want to find us. I’ll leave a message at the rendezvous point.”  The three had started to walk back to the abbey. Sokka motioned for the two girls to stop, when a galloping sound could be heard from the distance. Suddenly a shirshu jumped behind the three, they ran. The three turned around to face their pursuiters after coming face to face with a ledge.  Y/n had to do a double take of who was riding the shirshu. “So this is your girlfriend.” Zuko jumped off the animal, and approached the three as the woman with him spoke. “No wonder she left, she’s way too pretty for you.”  “Where is he? Where’s the Avatar?”  Sokka’s gaze hardened. “We split up! He’s long gone.”  “How stupid do you think I am?” “Pretty stupid.” He grabbed Katara and Y/n by the arm, and started pulling them along with him. “Run!”  The trio didn’t get very far, however, because the shirshu paralyzed them with its tongue. They hit the ground with a grunt.  “What are we supposed to do now?”  “It’s seeking a different scent- Perhaps something the Avatar held.”  The shirshu moved forward and started sniffing at them. A map scroll fell out of Sokka’s backpack, it must be picking up Aang’s scent from there. The three were thrown up over the shirshu, before it started running in the direction of the abbey.  It crashed through the doors at the entrance of the abbey, some of the sisters who’d been near it were sent running. The shirshu sniffed at the ground, and started to walk in circles.  “What’s it doing? It’s just going around in a circle!”  It continued to follow the scent in a circle for a short moment. Before Y/n knew it, the shirshu was jumping at something, but got knocked off balance. All of them fell to the ground, along with the creature.  “Aang!”  She smiled at Katara’s exclamation. Thank goodness he was here, though it kind of sucked that the way she landed prevented her to see what was going on. How long was this paralysis going to last? What she could see from how she landed, however, was that Iroh had landed not too far from her. The man had gotten up from the ground, and dragged her off to the side. Now she could see that a fight was occurring between Aang and Zuko. She was propped up against a wall.  “It is good to see you are doing alright, Y/n.”  Iroh spared her a few words, before running off, seemingly to help the woman he and Zuko were with. Two of the sisters dragged Sokka and Katara over as well to get them out of the way of the fight. She couldn’t see the fight very well from the way her head hung low, but she is fairly certain she heard an explosion.  “Hey, I’m starting to get some feeling back!” Above them the roof rumbled, and tiles fell onto them- but mostly Sokka -from above. “Ow!” Y/n laughed a little.  The three had gotten enough of their movement back to stand up, with the support of the wall however. One of the sisters put some sort of perfume under their noses and it seemed to help.  “That thing sees with its nose. Let’s give him something to look at.” Sokka said.  “The perfume?” He offered a nod.  Sokka and Y/n helped the sisters push large pots of perfume out into the courtyard, and pushed them over. Katara used her bending to pull the perfume into a large sheet that she dropped over the shirshu. All the perfume scents must have confused it, because it started to rampage. It paralyzed Zuko and the woman he’d been with, before crawling over the abbey houses and running off. 
The four of them we’re quick to get up onto Appa, and fly away.  “So, where do we go?”  The three of them turned to look at Aang.  “We’re getting you to the North Pole.”  “Yeah, we’ve lost too much time as it is.”  Y/n nodded in agreement with the siblings. Aang turned back to look at them, expression twisted to confusion.  “Don’t you guys want to see your family?”  Adjusting how she sat, Y/n hugged her knees to her chest. “Of course, but, your our family too Aang.”  Sokka nodded. “Yeah, and right now, you need us more.”  “And we need you.”  Aang rested his chin in his hand. “I wish I could give you a little piece of home, Katara. Something to remind you-” Katara smiled softly. “I’ll be okay.” “Still, just a little trinket. Maybe something like…” He jumped up, and proudly offered Katara a necklace. “This!”  She gasped quietly, before taking the necklace from him and happily putting it on. Sokka did a double take.  “Aang, how did you get that?”  “Zuko asked to be sure I got it to you.”  Y/n leaned closer to Sokka. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”  “It’s something she lost before you joined our group.” “Oooh.”  “Oh, that’s so sweet of Zuko. Would you give him a kiss for me when you see him?” Katara spoke with mocked appreciation.  “Sure!” Katara leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Aang’s cheek, causing the boy the blush.
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adenil-umano · 5 years ago
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12 Days of Spones Day 3: Travel
[Read on AO3]
In a universe where instant travel was always at his fingertips, McCoy knew that sometimes it was the journey that mattered the most. The Enterprise was due for a refit and her crew was granted an extended shore leave. McCoy spent the first day at his family’s ranch in Georgia closing out all his old cases. There were miles of notes to catch up on and by the time he was done the first day of shore leave had turned to night. He padded around the empty house adjusting picture frames and dusting shelves, sipping on an Andorian ale until he was tired enough to fall asleep on the couch.
The next day he spent packing the shuttle car. It was an older model with a low hover height and a top speed of ninety kilometers an hour. The autopilot had been broken for years. He filled the trunk space with his suitcases and datapadds and then went back to the ranch to lock up. When he returned he was surprised to see Spock standing by the shuttle car with a bag over his shoulder.
McCoy blinked. “Spock. Fancy meeting you here.”
Spock had been looking out over the horizon, and he turned as McCoy spoke, his gaze half-lidded and contemplative. “Doctor,” he greeted, and said nothing more.
“What brings you to Georgia?”
“I am not certain.”
McCoy’s interest was piqued. “This is a rare day indeed, if the indomitably brilliant Mr. Spock is admitting he doesn’t know something.”
Spock inclined his head. “I admit I was…curious about the place you call home. I find it is less illogically ordered than I had assumed.”
“It’s a ranch, Spock. They have their own logic.”
“Indeed. It seems to have been quite some time since any animals were raised here. The garden also seems to be in a state of disrepair.”
McCoy followed his gaze to the old garden plot near the house. The only thing that distinguished it was the different kind of grass that had taken root there, and the dilapidated wood fencing that was falling in on itself. “Well, it’ll have to lie fallow a bit longer. I’m not here long enough to fix this place up.”
“You are preparing for a trip?”
“Yeah. One I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”
“Where will you go?”
“To Alaska.”
Spock blinked. He glanced back at the shuttle car, his brown eyes calculating. “I do not believe this vehicle will last the trip.”
“I spent most of my childhood fixing up this old girl. If I encounter problems I can handle them.”
“The Alcan Highway is notorious for its state of disrepair.”
McCoy shrugged. “Like I said, I’ll handle it. That’s part of the excitement of taking a trip like this, Spock.”
“I see.”
Spock’s gaze was fixed on the shuttle car. McCoy considered him standing there, looking a bit small with just his single bag over his shoulder.
“…What are you doing for shore leave?”
“I had not yet decided.”
“Just wanted to pay your old pal McCoy a visit, hm? Well, get in the damned car.”
Spock tilted his head. “Doctor?”
“You heard me. Get in. For pity’s sake, Spock. You’re like a sad puppy standing there. I can hardly look at you.”
Spock frowned very slightly. “I am not a ‘sad puppy,’ Doctor.”
“Prove it.” McCoy swept his arm towards the car. “Come with me. You can make sure I don’t crash into a tree or get sucked into a pothole. If you get sick of it we can call Starfleet and have them beam you somewhere else.”
Spock hesitated for just a moment, but McCoy knew he had Spock dead to rights. The Vulcan had never been good at taking vacation even at the best of times, and being stuck on Earth probably didn’t sit well with him. After a moment, Spock nodded. He placed his bag in the back seat and climbed into the shuttle car.
It took three tries for McCoy to get the engine to turn over, and he ignored Spock’s look of concern as they lifted unsteadily into the air. The car had always listed to one side. The way McCoy remembered it, it had listed to the left, but the old bird had a prominent limp towards the right today. Either way, he’d handle it.
They took off over the field towards the highway, skimming near the surface of the planet and kicking up dust as they went. McCoy glanced over and saw Spock gripping the handle above the window, and he grinned. A little company was just what he needed.
---
They made good time the first day, and wound up in a little Podunk town near the corner where Tennessee met Missouri. Spock had relaxed after the first hundred kilometers and was now studiously typing in a datapadd. McCoy glanced over at him occasionally, smiling to himself at the sight of Spock with his nose in a book—or some other data—while the world passed by just outside the window. But most McCoy entertained himself by watching the scenery and occasionally flipping through the radio stations. He knew Spock would talk when he was ready.
The shuttle car had fold-down back seats suitable for sleeping on, but McCoy didn’t feel like being that cramped this early in the trip. He booked a room at a motel with a hot tub and spent most of the night making soup of himself and turning wrinkly and pruned while Spock sat nearby, still writing. McCoy flicked a few droplets of water Spock’s way and laughed as Spock scowled like a wet cat. They ate sandwiches in the motel room and McCoy collapsed into bed before nine o’clock.
He awoke once, that first night, just as Spock was turning down the covers of the bed across from him. He watched Spock, dimly lit by the light seeping through the partially curtained window, as he moved about in his Starfleet-issued pajamas. They were black silk, and the pants were just a bit too short for Spock, exposing his ankles and making him look like a lanky teenager who was growing too fast. McCoy snorted to himself and rolled over, falling instantly back to sleep.
The next day they stopped at the St. Louis gateway arch. McCoy wasn’t too impressed, but he perked up when they found an expansive botanical garden. The air was thick and humid, and he made Spock stop to pose for pictures. He captured Spock’s long-suffering frown near a dozen different flowers from all over the world.
They fell into a rhythm. With plenty of time to sight-see, the fact that the shuttle car was less than half as fast as current models didn’t bother McCoy. Spock hardly seemed to notice whether they were stopped or moving; he kept his nose tucked into the datapadd he was working on regardless. They ate at the greasiest spoon dives that McCoy could find for one meal, and then at an upscale restaurant that served single bites on porcelain plates the next. Occasionally, McCoy commented on the scenery during their drive, and Spock always replied dutifully. They picked up an old argument about the logic (or lack thereof) of different systems of classifying living creatures, and then they put the argument down again. Neither was in any hurry to win. McCoy was just arguing because he liked to hear Spock’s voice.
In the evening they would stop wherever was convenient. They stayed at a five-star hotel one night where room service delivered fresh pasta and bread that was still warm to the touch. The next night they spent at a bread and breakfast that woke them precisely at 6:00 a.m. for waffles and strawberries. McCoy growled his annoyance at the early hour and Spock placated him by fetching mug after mug of fresh coffee. They sat at the small table with their elbows touching, listening to their host tell them about all the people that had come through and stayed with her. She’d had folks from Starfleet before, of course, but never anyone from such a prestigious starship.
“Tell me, what’s it like? The only time I’ve ever been off-world was to visit my cousin on Mars for her wedding. I’ve never travelled outside the solar system.”
“At a certain point you forget you're travelling anywhere,” McCoy said. “It’s just you and the crew, and the ship is almost like its own small planet. You forget you’re moving, forget there’s anything else besides those walls and the view.”
He found himself looking at Spock, who was still contemplating their host’s question. After a moment, Spock said, “It is quite mentally stimulating.”
She smiled. “I’ll just bet it is. Is that how you two met?”
“Yeah, we both serve on the Enterprise.”
“It must be hard,” she said, glancing up towards the ceiling as if she could see through it to where the Enterprise orbited above them. “Being away from home.” She smiled. “Well, at least you have each other.”
McCoy didn’t have an answer to that. He busied himself with his waffles, and when Spock’s elbow bumped him he didn’t pull away.
---
They went north far enough to stop at the Crazy Horse Memorial. They stood on the viewing platform side-by-side. McCoy traced Crazy Horse’s bold profile with his eyes, admiring the craftsmanship of his outstretched arm and the braying face of the horse he rode. After, he turned the shuttle car west.
The landscape shifted and changed beneath them. Black hills transitioned suddenly into dry desert. Mountains sprung up occasionally, and then more frequently, and McCoy maneuvered the car slowly around the switchbacks. Spock had put down his datapadd and was gripping tightly to the handle above the window again.
“Sorry,” McCoy muttered.
“It is no matter,” Spock said, but his voice was a bit wavery and he was quite pale.
“If you’re car sick I’ve got a hypo in the back.”
Spock shook his head, but it took only a few more curving switchbacks for him to rise in his seat and turn to reach back for the medkit. His shoulder brushed McCoy’s as he searched, and then he withdrew with hypo in hand. He spun the dial and held it up to McCoy, who nodded at the dosage. Spock injected himself and placed the hypospray in the cup holder, already relaxing in increments.
“Didn’t expect you to be the type to get car sick,” McCoy said, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “I’ve never seen you get space sick, even when we’re being rocked to next Tuesday by some anomaly or another.”
“Normally, we are not close enough to the ground for me to see the horizon,” Spock said. He had leaned back in his seat but hadn’t picked up the datapadd again. “I have gotten sea sick once before while boating on a lake on Andoria. It is not a pleasant experience.”
“Not very logical either?”
“Indeed, no.” Spock’s voice carried a faint hint of exasperation. “It is not logical for my brain to misinterpret my balance.”
“Well, that nausea hypo should help. And not reading for a while. That always used to make me car sick as a kid.”
Spock hummed. “I suppose I shall have to finish my work later.”
“What are you working on anyway? You haven’t looked away from that padd this whole trip.”
Spock was silent. McCoy risked a glance over and found Spock gazing out the window with a faint hint of wistfulness.
“You don’t have to answer,” McCoy said, turning back to the road. “If it’s private.”
“It is not. Not…precisely.” Spock considered for a moment longer. “I would like to tell you. However, I would prefer to wait for our arrival in Fairbanks. Is this acceptable?”
McCoy laughed. “Sure, Spock. Whatever makes you happy.”
“Happiness plays no part—”
“I know, I know.” He reached out blindly and managed to pat Spock’s arm. “I was just teasing you.”
“Very well,” Spock said, sounding miffed.
McCoy managed not to laugh at him too loudly, and drove on.
---
They stopped at the Pacific ocean, because when you drive that far West you might as well go further. McCoy found a sandy beach and hopped out of the car, leaving his boots on the ground. After a moment’s hesitation Spock copied him, slipping off his boots and leaving them propped up straight near McCoy’s haphazard pile. They walked barefoot down the sandy path and stood at the edge of the wave line waiting for the cold water to come to them. When it did, it came faster and further than McCoy had expected, and they had to run to avoid getting drenched, McCoy cackling and Spock with wide, bright eyes. McCoy’s jeans still wound up soaked up to the hip, and Spock’s was wet up to the knee.
Together, they walked along the beach picking up shells. There was a spawning of jellyfish in the sand and Spock regaled him with every known fact about the species as they tiptoed around them and watched the waves roll up and carry their gelatinous bodies away again. When they were done McCoy had a pocket full of smooth shells and there was sand on every inch of his body.
They found a cottage along the coast where they could stay the night and shower off. When McCoy emerged from the shower with a towel around his hips, feeling clean and warm, he found Spock arranging their shells. Spock looked up at him and his gaze was unexpectedly heavy, warming McCoy even further until he felt hot and flushed.
“Shower’s yours,” he said gruffly, moving to pull his pajamas from his suitcase.
Spock rose silently and made his way into the bathroom. When the door closed McCoy ambled over to look at the shells. They were arranged by type, or so it appeared, lined up in neat little rows. But one stood out from the rest. It was shaped differently, very particularly, and McCoy had to scold himself for thinking it was shaped like a heart.
They followed the coastline North to Dawson Creek. They spent a few days there taking short day trips to various locations to hike and admire the scenery. It was strange to be able to hike without worrying about catching an alien disease or falling prey to some alien animal. It had been years since McCoy had been able to hike outside of the context of an away mission. Spock seemed to find it harder to break the habit, and he brought a tricorder on each trip to scan the plants and wildlife, and to map the ground on water where they went.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” McCoy said mildly. He was sitting on a boulder at the edge of a river, watching with amusement as Spock knelt to scan a small cluster of flowers. “I’m fairly certain we’ve discovered every animal on Earth by now.”
Spock paused to consider his words. “One never knows what is left to discover.”
McCoy chuckled. He slid off the boulder and ambled over to Spock, eying the flowers Spock was still scanning. “You really don’t know how to relax, do you?”
“This is relaxing.”
“No, this is work during vacation.” He knelt beside Spock and placed his hand on top of the tricorder, slowly closing it. “You don’t have to scan everything you see, Spock. Sometimes it’s okay to just look and experience it. If you want to look closer…” He reached down and plucked one of the flowers. It was yellow, with a brown seed head and firm, smooth stem. “You can simply pick it up and touch it.”
He held out the flower to Spock. Spock was watching him intently, eyes trained on McCoy’s hands as though he were carrying a fragile bird, or the cure to some disease, and not just a flower. After a moment his gaze flickered upwards and their eyes met, and McCoy was struck by the enormity of the emotion on display in Spock’s eyes. There was turmoil there, a kind of sadness that fluttered under the surface. But, more boldly, there was warmth, and happiness. Spock looked at him like he held the universe in his hands.
Spock accepted the flower. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Of course.” McCoy’s voice was thick.
Had he imagined that look? No, not possible. Not when there were still hints of it in Spock’s sly glances, in the way he cradled the flower like it was the greatest gift he had ever received.
McCoy’s skin itched. “Well,” he said, standing. “That’s enough rest. We should get back to our hike.”
Spock nodded and rose as well. They went into the woods together, and Spock kept the tricorder closed.
---
It became harder to find places to sleep at night. The first day on the Alcan Highway they drove until well after dark to find a town with an open room. The town was hardly more than a few buildings scattered about, and McCoy slept the sleep of the dead, exhausted from such a long drive.
On their second night they couldn’t find a town to rest at no matter how far they drove. McCoy pulled over to the side of the road and flicked on the overhead light, consulting his map. Spock leaned over to look as well, and they came to the same decision together.
“It’s too far,” McCoy said, folding the map and tucking it away. “At least another two hours.”
“It will be well after midnight before we arrive.”
McCoy looked at him. “The back seats fold down,” he suggested mildly. “It’d be cramped, but I don’t think I’m fit to drive much longer.”
Spock inclined his head in silent agreement.
They cleared out the back seat. It was fall; the night air was crisp and a bit cold. Spock folded down the seats while McCoy pulled out his blanket and pillow, seeing now the real problem with this plan.
“I only brought one of each,” he said. “Unless you’ve got one tucked away in your satchel, we’ll have to share.”
“I do not.”
McCoy nodded. “Here, you can have the pillow. The blanket’s pretty big. If I steal it in the night, just…elbow me or something.”
Spock seemed amused, but it was difficult to tell with only stars providing light.
They each turned around while the other slipped into pajamas, giving what privacy they could. With the seats down the space was just big enough for them to line down side-by-side. If McCoy stretched out fully his toes brushed the wall of the trunk. He folded his arm under his head and tried to get comfortable. Spock shuffled around getting comfortable. McCoy could feel the heat radiating off Spock’s body, nice and warm in the cold night. Half-consciously, he shifted a little closer.
“…Doctor,” Spock whispered after a moment.
“Hmm?”
“As you are the primary driver, perhaps you would like the pillow.”
His voice was so low and soothing, McCoy thought. He closed his eyes to better bask in the sound. “No, it’s alright. Wouldn’t want you to get a headache from sleeping wrong. I’ve seen how you act when your head hurts.”
“And I have seen you with a headache.”
He chuckled. “I suppose you’ve got me there.”
There was another pause, a bit longer this time. Just when McCoy thought Spock had dropped the issue, the Vulcan began to shift around again. There was the rustle of fabric against fabric and suddenly Spock’s warmth was a great deal closer. McCoy’s eyes flew open. Now adjusted to the light, he could see Spock’s outline in the starlight. He watched as Spock inched the pillow closer, so that his head was barely on one side, the other side an offering to McCoy.
McCoy gulped. “…You sure?”
“Quite.”
He inched closer. “I snore sometimes, you know.”
Spock sighed, long-suffering. “I am aware. We have shared a room every night for the previous two-and-a-half weeks.”
“It’s just—”
His argument was cut short as Spock’s hand settled on his hip. McCoy snapped his mouth shut, utterly floored by that light touch. Spock wasn’t pulling at him, or really doing much of anything, but the point of contact sparked fire beneath McCoy’s skin. He swallowed thickly and let his body do what it wanted, which was to fall against Spock.
They curled together beneath the blanket, their heads bent towards each other like curved question marks. McCoy didn’t know where to put his hands so he let them fold between their bodies, trying to maintain a faint and pointless distance. Spock’s arm twined around him, his hand resting more firmly against McCoy’s lower back, and his other arm slipped easily under McCoy’s head.
They were cuddling, definitely. It should have felt awkward, but it just felt right. Spock was warm and soft and it was easy for McCoy to bury his face against Spock’s neck and let out a sigh that made Spock shiver. He could smell Spock’s odd Vulcan cologne, a slightly spicy scent. Spock’s hand began to rub against his back soothingly, almost a pet, and McCoy concentrated on that small touch.
Spock soothed him to sleep, and McCoy could think of no better dream than this reality.
---
There were hundreds of bridges along the highway, and they stopped at most of them. Some were small enough to jump over, while others bridged huge gullies that made McCoy experience vertigo. They looked at water, more water than was on the entire surface of Vulcan, mapping all its different forms. At night, even if there was a hotel available, they pulled into whatever parking lot was around instead and folded down the back seat, and McCoy crawled into Spock’s waiting embrace.
They stopped at Delta Junction towards the end of the last day and just stood there, soaking in the beauty of this small, blue planet. Before them were kilometers of rewilded forest. Behind them, mountains jutted up over the horizon. McCoy lifted his head to the sun and felt warm despite the cold breeze.
“Nearly there,” he murmured.
“Yes.”
Spock came to stand beside him. Spock was often standing beside him, McCoy realized. He smiled at Spock, and Spock returned the look with a faint bend at the corner of his lips.
“Haven’t seen you writing in your datapadd in a while,” McCoy said quietly.
“I finished what I intended to write,” Spock said. “At a certain point further edits cease their usefulness.”
“Makes sense.” He turned back to the forest and spread his arms wide. It felt silly, but also perfectly right, to embrace the world in a tiny, human hug. “Oh, Spock,” he breathed. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“I have not. I believe the word you would use to describe it is ‘majestic.’”
“Too small a word.” McCoy turned and found Spock watching him, and he smiled. “Should we continue on? Fairbanks is just a couple hours away.”
Spock turned somber. “Indeed.”
The last few hours were quieter than the ones that had come before. Spock was in the passenger’s seat with his eyes closed, apparently meditating, and the datapadd on his lap but turned off. Every kilometer they passed something new and beautiful and McCoy felt his breath stolen from him again and again.
It was dark by the time they arrived in Fairbanks, and McCoy startled when Spock’s hand came to rest against his wrist.
“Stop here.”
McCoy pulled over and Spock climbed out of the shuttle car. McCoy followed him down a brick path to a small lookout over the river. Above them, the sky was bright and clear, inky black broken only by the white pinpricks of stars. Spock tipped his head toward the sky.
“This will do,” he declared, turning back to McCoy.
McCoy shifted his feet. “Do for what?”
In answer, Spock handed him the datapadd. Cautiously, McCoy accepted it, uncertain what he would find. He switched it on and read the first paragraph, then had to stop and go back to read it again, unable to process what he was seeing.
There were several pages and he flipped through them slowly, stunned by the prose Spock had spilled onto the page. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so surprised; Spock had always had a way with words, after all. But this was almost…poetic. There was a depth McCoy knew Spock was capable of feeling, but hadn’t known Spock was capable of expressing.
“Spock, this is…”
“When I first arrived in Georgia,” Spock said, turning back to the sky. “I already planned to tell you, but I could not find the words.”
“Spock…”
“When I look at you, Leonard,” Spock said, visibly struggling to voice what he had already written on the page. “I feel…love.”
“Oh, Spock.”
“I look at you and see the future. One where I might be with you, and have you be with me. I would like, very much, to become the person you could find yourself loving.”
“Goddammit.” McCoy swiped at his eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”
Spock looked miffed. “If my confession offends you—”
“No! Just—dammit, c’mere you.” He reached out and took Spock’s hand. “I already love you, you foolish, beautiful Vulcan.”
Spock seemed surprised, and then inordinately pleased. “Indeed?”
“I figured it was pretty obvious, what with the cuddling. But maybe I need to say it in a way you can’t misconstrue. I just spent over three weeks in a car with you and didn’t want to pull my hair out or bite your head off. We’ve battled great evil together. We fight and I…like it, okay? I like you, and I want to be with you in all the mushy romantic ways you wrote here.” He held up the padd. “Honestly, Spock, it’s like you were reading my damned mind about some of this stuff. You weren’t, were you?”
Spock shook his head. He seemed incapable of speech.
McCoy grinned. “Guess it’s just proof we’re good together.” He tightened his grip and tugged Spock closer. “Why wait until Fairbanks to say it?”
“I…was not brave.”
“Not very logical of you.”
“This feeling is not logical,” Spock said seriously. “And it is the only feeling I have ever had which I choose to embrace fully.”
McCoy’s breath caught. “Oh. It’s like that, is it?”
“It is.”
They were standing awfully close now, almost as close as Spock had held him last night, when their legs had tangled together and Spock had run his hand through McCoy’s hair.
“Leonard.”
“Yeah?” he breathed.
“May I kiss you?”
“Hell. Absolutely. Thought you’d never—”
Spock stole the rest of his sentence, and his breath, and McCoy’s knees went weak and he dropped the padd. He fell against Spock and Spock caught him, warm and firm and strong. They had traveled together across the galaxy, and then over a quarter of Earth, but suddenly the entire Universe had narrowed down to two small points of light. As they met beneath the sky all that mattered was each other.
He felt Spock’s hand come up to cup the side of his face, and he tilted to deepen the connection. Spock was sweet and soft, and McCoy felt like he was flying.
When they pulled apart McCoy was dazed, and he didn’t know how much time had passed. Spock traced the bone of his cheek with one calloused thumb, a faint smile on his lips that McCoy yearned to taste.
“Shall we retire for the evening, Leonard?” Spock said softly.
“R-right, absolutely.” He took a step away and then turned back, picking up the dropped datapadd. “Let’s get a real room, though. Cuddling in the backseat of a car is fine, but we aren’t teenagers.”
Spock’s eyes were bright with mirth. “I agree. I would very much like to hold you again tonight.”
“Dammit, Spock,” McCoy whispered. “You can’t just say things like that. Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?”
“I have some idea.” Spock sidled close as they walked back to the shuttle car together. “For it is the same thing which you do to me.”
McCoy bumped Spock’s shoulder, feeling giddy. It was almost physically painful to separate the few inches necessary to climb back into the shuttle car, but once there Spock reached out and took McCoy’s hand. McCoy held him back tightly, unwilling and unable to hide his expansive grin.
After going all that distance it was less than a kilometer to the final hotel, and only a single flight of stairs to the room. Spock pulled him inside and into a kiss, shutting the door firmly behind them. It may have been the journey that had gotten them here, but McCoy found he quite liked the destination as well.
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tamorasky · 5 years ago
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Mistress Anna Epilogue
Rating: M
Summary: It wasn’t uncommon for the women to be eventually cast aside, Anna was just naive enough to believe it would never happen to her.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff
Words: 4,888
Canadian Frontier Au.
AO3 
Masterlist
Note: Thank you Molly for talking me through the epilogue 
Nebraska Territory, 1855
Anna’s hands slowly prune as she quickly washes the dishes, trying to complete the task before the water turns cold. With a sigh, she wipes the sweat off her brow with her forearm, promptly returning to scrubbing the cast iron pan. It is the last item in her washing basin, hoping the remains of the eggs wash out of the pan before the most pressing matter in the house roused.
She lifts the heavy pan out of the bowl, placing it on the table before wiping the metal with a cloth until it is nearly dry. Picking the pan off the table, Anna walks over to the shelving Kristoff had crafted for the kitchen, placing the heavy item on the bottom shelf.
As if on cue, a sound emits from their bedroom, indicating Anna had run out of time. Quickly she wipes her damp hands on her apron, untying the garment and discarding it on a hook as she meanders towards the room.
Stepping through the threshold of the room, Anna looks to the wooden bassinet settled next to their dresser.
"I'm coming, baby." She coos, standing in front of the crib to see her daughter thrashing wildly in her crib. Astrid's face is scrunched and turning pink as she cries. Anna’s bottom lip juts out as she reaches into the bassinet, gently picking up the 4-month-old.
Anna presses her cheek to her baby's head, rubbing the infant's back soothingly as she withdraws from the crib. She hums softly to Astrid as they exit the bedroom, making her way through their house to the rocking chair settled next to the fireplace.
Bracing Astrid's back with her hand, Anna seats herself on the rocking chair, trying to keep it steady as she leans back. Resting her elbow on the armrest, Anna maneuvers her youngest to her chest, Astrid's head in line with the rest of Anna's body.
When she had Eliza, Anna found herself often fumbling to unbutton her blouse to feed her eldest daughter, now with her second daughter, it is a matter of seconds. A tired smile crosses her features as the baby's chin and nose touch her breast.
Breastfeeding Eliza had been easy. Astrid always put up more of a fight. Anna had been certain for the first few hours of Astrid's life that she was going to have to be bottle-fed. But in the early hours of the morning, after hours of trying to get the infant to latch, Astrid had finally relented.
Anna brushes Astrid's whips of blonde hair as her honey eyes begin to flutter shut, similar to the night the second girl was born.
.........
She had come slightly early in the middle of the night.
Anna and Kristoff had decided to travel north from their house near Fort Benton to the Cypress Hills that late April. Initially, Anna had thought the cramping was due to sleeping on the ground while being nearly nine months pregnant.
The slow dampening of her nightgown and the blankets alerted Anna to the labour, realizing it was not bodily discomfort as she had thought. She had hurriedly sat up, placing a hand on the swell of her belly to feel the muscles contract as the pain returned. Her hair stood on edge as she shook Kristoff awake as the blankets that kept her warm pooled around her waist.
He woke slowly, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in their bedroll; panic overtaking him as he stood up, calling across the tipi to where Elsa and Honeymaren slept with Eliza between them.
Honeymaren quickly restarted the dying fire in the middle of the tipi as Elsa flew to her sister's side, taking her hands into her own to ensure she was alright. Kristoff had quickly pulled on his trousers, fastening them as he exited the tipi to inform his mother the baby was coming.
News of Anna's labour had spread through the encampment like a wildfire, women gathered on the family's site to offer their services to Bulda's daughter-in-law. It had taken Cliff, Sven, and Gabriel to make the cluster of women disperse for the night. Which left Bulda, Angelique, Marguerite and the midwife from the nearby Assiniboine nearby encampment to assist with the birth.
Anna had nearly expected Marguerite to enter the tipi with Peder on her back; since his birth, her friend had barely allowed her 6-month-old out of his mossbag. The labouring woman was surprised to see Marguerite had left her son with Sven.
The tipi quickly warmed as it filled with members of her family, and the fire slowly came back to life. Elsa had helped her sister stand, supporting her as Anna paced around the fire until the midwife decided it was time.
Sage burned in the tent, enveloping the tipi with the earthy smell. The sage brought comfort to Anna as the midwife instructed Kristoff to stand behind her, holding his wife up as she squatted low on the ground.
She pushed, unable to make any noise as she focused on the birth, similar to how it was with birthing Eliza. Leaning against her husband's body, Anna found comfort in Kristoff's arms.
Elsa knelt next to her sister, offering her younger sister additional support while Honeymaren assisted the midwife. Bulda sat in the corner of the tipi, Eliza, in her arms as the grandmother whispered words of comfort to the toddler.
Everything was different this time. The sage. The people who loved her surrounding and supporting as she went through this the second time in her life.
No doctor. No lying on the bed. This was everything like the births Anna attended with her mother as a child.
Letting out a silent cry, Anna gasped as the pain became a throbbing ache. Exhausted, Anna fell back against Kristoff, watching as the midwife brought her child forward.
The Assiniboine midwife glanced up to the young couple with a smile. "You have a girl."
Anna managed a tired smile as the midwife handed the parents their second daughter, un-swaddled and needing to be cleaned. The auburn-haired woman didn't care as her white nightgown stained with blood as she took her second borne into her arms.
She was so confident that she would never have the same feeling as Eliza, overwhelmed with emotion as her eyes become misty as she stares at the infant. Her face all squashed and purple, similar to Eliza after her birth. Anna had never been so wrong in her life.
Kristoff pressed a kiss to his wife's temple as he reached around her body to brush their daughter's cheek. "Anna… she's perfect."
....................
Anna holds Astrid over her shoulder once her daughter finishes feeding, gently patting her small back to force her to burp. She can't find herself to care when her second borne spits up over her blouse.
"Better?" Anna asks, pressing a kiss to Astrid's temple as she stands from the rocking chair with some struggle. Holding Astrid to her chest, Anna steps through the house towards the porch.
She stands on the veranda scanning their property as she looks for any indication of where her husband and eldest daughter could have gotten to. Anna doesn't bother to close the door to the house her and Kristoff had moved into nearly nine months ago.
Anna bounces Astrid as she overlooks the land, trying to locate Kristoff and Eliza. Cautiously she steps off the porch, holding her youngest close to her as they venture away from the house. Her thumb brushes against Astrid's linen yellow dress as she floats through the wheat field towards the river.
As they draw closer to the riverbank, Anna can hear Eliza shrieking and Kristoff's chuckling. The auburn-haired woman smiles at the sounds of her loved ones, her arms tightening around Astrid as she walks down the ravine.
They push through the bush, the sun casting spots against Anna's face and Astrid's blonde hair through the trees as her legs strain, trying not to slip on the earth. A giggle escapes Anna as they emerge from the bush onto the riverbank.
Kristoff stands chest-deep in the Missouri River, holding Eliza by her armpits with her back to him, allowing his daughter to kick her legs against the water. Anna steps further onto the riverbank, meandering closer to her husband and firstborn.
"Mama!" Eliza shrieks as she notices her mother and little sister on the bank, ceasing to kick her legs as she reaches out to them. Kristoff wraps his arm around Eliza as he moves through the water, keeping a tight hold onto the 3-year-old.
Anna's toes kiss the water's edge as she readjusts Astrid in her arms before settling herself next to the river, watching as her husband and daughter come closer to the shore.
He lets go of the toddler as they reach shallow water, where Kristoff knows she can stand. Eliza toddles through the water towards her mother and sister while giggling to herself. Anna settles Astrid on her thigh, cradling her back against her bicep.
Eliza climbs onto her mother's skirt as she reaches the shore, clumsily climbing to sit on her mother's unoccupied thigh. Anna shifts uncomfortably under her daughters' weight. Kristoff chuckles as he emerges from the water, seating himself next to his wife and daughters.
The rust-haired girl reaches forward to Astrid, taking her by the shoulders to drag her sister to her. Anna quickly intercepts, shifting her youngest onto her back and places Astrid onto Eliza's small lap.
"Baby!" Eliza greets, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on her sister's forehead. Anna smiles down at the exchange, glancing to her side as she feels a hand on her lower back. Kristoff's thumb brushes against the fabric of her shirt as he presses a kiss to her cheek.
Astrid's fussing brings the young couple's attention back to their children; Eliza pets her sister's hair in an attempt to soothe the baby. Kristoff reaches over his wife, re-positioning Astrid in Eliza's lap to make his youngest more comfortable.
His free hand comes to rest on his wife’s thigh, watching his girls closely. Anna rests her head on Kristoff's shoulder with a sigh staring down at the two most perfect girls her and Kristoff created.
The family sits by the river for a few more minutes, before Anna decides it is time to move back to the house as the sun descends from the sky. Kristoff leans over, gently lifting Astrid from Eliza's lap before rising from the ground.
Anna smiles up at the sight of her husband, cradling their young daughter, enjoying how small she looks in his arms. The auburn-haired woman stands from the ground, not bothering to wipe the dirt from her skirt as she leans over to pick-up Eliza from the ground.
Eliza clutches her mother's blouse as she is lifted from the dirt, disappointed that her time in the water has come to an end for the day. The toddler watches the river disappear from her view as Anna carries her up the riverbank towards the house.
As they approach, Anna notices an unfamiliar man standing on their property. Both Anna and Kristoff stop with the children, trying to assess if the man standing in front of the house brought a threat to either of them.
"Anna, take Astrid and stay here with the girls." Kristoff turns towards his wife. Anna sets Eliza down, taking her oldest daughter's hand before taking her youngest into her arms. The young mother watches helplessly as Kristoff slowly moves towards the stranger.
Her heart nearly stops as her husband stands with the man, staring as the man begins to reach for something in his bag. Anna prepares to run towards the river with both her children in tow, in case of any threat. But it never occurs.
Kristoff stands with the man, nodding as the man rummages around his leather bag, trying to receive something. Anna approaches with her brows knit together in confusion at the man's presence.
"Ah! Here it is." The stranger exclaims, pulling an envelope from his bag, happening to glance at Anna and the children. "Are you Mrs. Bjorgman?"
"I am," Anna confirms, confused as the man extends the letter to her. Reluctantly she detaches her hand from Eliza, taking the message with a polite smile.
"It's from Fort Carleton in Rupert's Land." The man further explains. Although it is unneeded, Anna can recognize Elsa's handwriting instantly. Anna tucks the letter into her skirt's waistband, holding her hand out to Eliza once more before leading her children into the small log cabin.
Eliza shrieks loudly, detaching herself from her mother's side towards the sitting area where her toys lay. Anna follows close behind her eldest daughter, settling herself and Astrid on the sofa. She lays her youngest on the cushion next to her, pulling the letter from her waistband.
A sigh escapes her lips as she feels hands rest on her shoulders, kneading her sore muscles as Kristoff leans over to press a kiss to the top of his wife's head.
"Elsa?" He simply asks, smirking as Anna groans as he begins to work out a knot in her shoulder.
"Y-yeah." Anna nods, closing her eyes as he works the muscles.
Kristoff stops his motions, withdrawing his hands from Anna's shoulders, and moves around the sofa. “Come here, Astrid.” He coos, picking up his youngest daughter as he settles in the spot she had been lying on.
Anna watches as Kristoff brushes Astrid's cheek with his thumb before he glances towards Eliza to smile at his oldest daughter. Anna quickly opens the letter, ignoring the sensation as the paper slices against the pad of her thumb.
She pulls the letter out of the envelope, placing it next to her as she unfolds the paper. As her eyes scan the letter, Anna's brows furrow, trying to understand what her sister had written. “Hans had been deposed as Chief Factor of Arendelle.”
“What?” Kristoff questions, his voice resounds through the room as Anna begins to re-read the letter.
Anna looks at him, coldness settling in her chest as she slowly turns to face him. "H-Hans has been replaced as Chief Factor." The room goes silent, save for Eliza playing with her toys and Astrid grunting. Kristoff stares at her, waiting for her to continue. "Apparently… h-he's gone completely mad."
"What do you mean?" Kristoff slides closer to his wife; his brows furrowing in confusion.
"A-according to the letter, he just went completely mad from an infection."
"An infection?" Kristoff questions.
"Apparently, according to rumours, he caught a venereal disease during his last voyage to London last spring." Anna trails off, her hand holding the letter falls to her lap as she stares forward to Eliza playing with her toys on the floor.
Kristoff moves closer to his wife, placing his free hand on her knee. “Does this mean…”
“We can go home.” She states, her voice breathless in joy as she throws her arms around his neck, tears escaping her eyes.
Eliza ceases to play at the sight of her mother crying, shakily standing from the ground to walk over to Anna. The toddler grasps her mother’s navy skirt, her brows knit in concern, tears pooling in her own eyes.
“Mama…” The rust-haired girl’s lower lip slightly trembles as she catches her parents’ attention.
Anna quickly wipes her tears, removing herself from Kristoff to pick up her oldest. Eliza settles her head against her mother’s chest, as Anna runs a soothing hand against her hair.
“It’s okay sa jaang,” She reassures the toddler, staring down at Eliza. “I’m happy. I’m just deliriously happy.” Anna hugs Eliza tight, burying her face into her daughter’s hair.
As she withdraws from her embrace, Anna is sure to smile at Eliza before pressing a kiss to her forehead. With Eliza still on her lap, the young woman glances back to Kristoff, her eyes pleading.
“Can we leave as soon as possible?”
.................. Rupert's Land, 1858
Anna stands next to Marguerite, placing the bannock she had made that morning next to her sister-in-law's plate of pemmican. The two-women grin trying to hold back their laughter as the community's older women stand around preparing food and gossiping with one another.
"All I know," Gerda begins, raising her hands as if defending herself. "Is that the youngest Laurent girl and her fiancé didn't even wait till winter to marry."
Bulda chuckles, shaking her head. "It wouldn't surprise me if Josette doesn't have another grandchild by the end of next summer."
"I know! Honestly, if you ask me, those two rushed into things too quickly for there not to have been an accident." Gerda lightly touches Bulda's arm, the two older women filtering out the sound of the younger women's laughter.
"Just because they married in June doesn't mean she's pregnant, Ma," Angelique states, shaking her head. Both Gerda and Bulda glance to the raven-haired woman, their raised brows mirroring one another.
"They did start only seeing one another in April." Marguerite shrugs, smirking as she adds to the older women's gossip.
Angelique smacks her sister on the arm. "Don't encourage them."
"What? It's probably true." Marguerite defends, her brows knitting together.
"It's not like courting lasts long in our community." Anna comments, removing the covering for the venison on the table. She hands the cover to Marguerite; groaning as she places her hands on her back, trying to relive some of the weight off of her back.
"You should know Anna. How is it that you and Kristoff were married in September, and then Astrid was born…" Bulda hums, feigning to think of her granddaughter's birthday. "Oh, I recall only 8 months later."
Gerda giggles, shaking her head before looking at her friend. "Oh, and let's see Bulda, you waited to marry in November, and Angelique was born…February. Inform me how that works."
"Ma!" Angelique exclaims, placing her hand over her chest in shock, despite knowing the circumstances of her birth and parent's marriage. The women's giggles surround the table, the banter coming to a halt as other women from the community approach the table with their contributions.
Anna takes a step away from the food table to allow other women to take her place. Scanning the churchyard, the young woman immediately spots Elsa and Honeymaren sitting with one another under the shade of the pines.  
She meanders towards her sister and Cree woman, needing to relive the weight off her back as pain radiates down her spine. Elsa glances up as Anna comes closer, grinning up at her younger sister.
"There you are. I was afraid we lost you two." Elsa comments.
"We were helping Bulda with the food," Anna comments as she wraps her arms around her back, resting her hands on the mossbag attached to her. Turning her head to gaze at her third daughter secured to her back, "Is that right, Miss. Thea?"
"Would you like me to get her, Anna?" Honeymaren inquires, already rising from the ground before her sister-in-law could nod in response.
"Thank you, Maren. My back is starting to hurt." Anna responds as the Cree woman makes her way behind Anna. "You got her?"
Honeymaren hums affirmatively, her hands cradling the sides of the mossbag as Anna releases the strap across her chest. As she turns, the auburn-haired woman does act quickly enough to take Thea from her aunt. Instead, Honeymaren carries the baby back to where she sits next to Elsa.
"You can leave her with us." Elsa offers, reaching over to her lover's lap to untie Thea from her mossbag. Anna settles herself next to her sister, briefly glancing at the 4-week-old being passed from Honeymaren to Elsa.
"I'll take your offer; I should go find Kristoff at some point today."
"Last I saw him, he was participating in the races with Sven, Cliff and Gabriel." Honeymaren comments, placing the cradleboard next to her.
"Of course, he was," Anna rolls her eyes, recalling how they lost nearly £25 last year on the foot races. Gazing over the field, the young mother observes the children playing on the other side of the crowd of people dancing.  
Eliza runs with her cousins, her rust coloured hair escaping from her two braids as she races around, holding Helene's hand. Anna furrows her brows, looking past the dancers to spot Astrid toddling after her older sister, her golden hair bouncing with every step the 3-year-old takes.
One more. Anna scans the group of children to find her third child, before spotting the auburn-haired child sitting on Louise's lap, watching as the older children play.
Erik had been born only 16 months after Astrid; they had hoped to wait for another child once their second daughter was born but were overjoyed at the news of a third child. Kristoff and Anna had both decided to wait for a while after Erik's birth for a fourth child. Thea came 18 months after the birth of their only boy.
"So," Elsa begins, bouncing her youngest niece in her arms. "How many months are we waiting this time for baby number five?"
Anna lightly nudges her sister with her shoulder, trying not to disturb Thea. "She's our last."
Honeymaren looks around Elsa, raising a brow at the auburn-haired woman. "Isn't that what you said after Erik was born?"
"I said that two hours after giving birth to him." Anna rolls her eyes. Recalling her sister asking her about more children after birthing Kristoff's 9-pound son that afternoon. The young woman glances up from the ground, her sky-blue eyes meeting honey brown ones.
He stands against the church, his hands shoved into his pockets as Sven stands next to him. In that instant, Anna feels as if she was a teenager again. Her heart pounding in her chest as her husband intently stares at her.
The young man withdraws from his friend's side, making his way through the crowd of people as his eyes remain transfixed on his wife. That stare, no matter how many times he looked at her that way, Anna always feels as if she is being hunted.
Kristoff stands in front of the auburn-haired woman, his embroidered white shirt tucked into his black trousers. Anna smiles at the sight of the sash, the one she made him years ago, tied securely around his waist.
"Hi." He smiles down at her.
"Hello." She responds, staring up at her husband as his form covers the sun glaring on her.
"Would you want to dance?" He asks, his hand outstretched down towards her. Anna grins up at him, taking his hand without any hesitation. With ease, Kristoff helps his wife off of the ground, pulling her into his arms.
The young couple leave Thea with her aunts without a word, trusting the two women wholeheartedly with their child as Anna brushes the grass off her ribbon skirt.
No one bats an eye at the sight of Kristoff, leading Anna towards the dancing. Not as they had three years ago when Bulda's adopted son led Iduna's youngest daughter to dance. No girls standing by the church, fuming at the sight of the unwed mother dancing with Kristoff.
It is just them.
Kristoff's hand firmly rests on her waist as Anna captures his hand with her own, pressing herself flush to him as the music starts up one more. Her eyes never leave his as they sway softly with the music, Anna's thumb brushing against his forefinger.
"So, how much money did you lose this year?" She inquires, raising a suspicious brow at her husband.
The blonde man chuckles in response, "I actually won us £5."
"How much did you lose?" Anna repeats the question, narrowing her eyes.
"I owe Sven £10."
"£10?" She pushes away from him, her brows knitting together in exasperation.
"That, or a kiss," His gaze drops from his wife, glancing down at his feet, "but I think he was kidding about that."
Anna giggles at her husband's joke, lightly smacking him on the bicep as she shakes her head. "You're incorrigible."
"I know." He leans over, crushing his lips against Anna's. Enjoying the feeling of the young woman balling the fabric of his shirt in her fist. She hums as Kristoff withdraws from her, staring tenderly down at the love of his life.
They slow as the music comes to a stop. Anna's hand rests on his chest as she smiles up at him. "I'm tired."
"Would you like me to get the children, and we'll head back to the house?" He inquires, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to lead her away from the dancing.
Anna nods in response, wrapping her arm around his back as they peruse through the churchyard. "I'll reclaim Thea if you'll get Eliza, Astrid and Erik."
"Of course." Kristoff presses his lips to the top of her head as he lets go of her, venturing to locate their older children. Anna meanders through the crowd of people back towards where Elsa and Honeymaren sit with Thea.
Her hands brush against the fabric of her ribbon skirt as she stands in front of the two women. Honeymaren and Elsa glance up at the young mother, the Cree woman lightly bouncing Thea in her arms.
"Kristoff and I are going to return home," Anna states, kneeling down on the patchwork quilt to gather Thea's cradleboard. She unties the deer hide rope, loosening the mossbag before gently taking her youngest into her arms.
She rests the baby onto the linen, swaddling her tiny body before securing her into the papoose, relieved that Honeymaren didn't detach the mossbag from the cradleboard. Anna stands from the ground, delicately picking up Thea on her board.
Elsa stands with her sister, holding Thea to Anna's back as the young woman secures the cradleboard to her. The auburn-haired woman turns to face her older sister, wrapping her arms around Elsa in a brief embrace.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Elsa states as she withdraws from her younger sister. Anna nods, knowing that her sister would be over by lunch, a regular occurrence since Thea's birth.
"I'll have lunch ready." Anna nods, waving to Honeymaren before meandering towards the road. Glancing over her shoulder as she hears Thea start to coo behind her. She reaches behind her, resting the back of her hand against the deerskin mossbag that holds her daughter.
Kristoff stands at the road, waiting for his wife and youngest daughter, holding Erik in his arms as he watches Eliza and Astrid dance with one another on the dirt road; their teal and purple ribbon skirts swishing with every movement.
"Mama!" Eliza shouts, waving at her mother as her free hand holds Astrid's. Anna waves back at her older daughters as she approaches them.
Anna sighs as she reaches her family, smiling as Erik begins to struggle in his father's arms, reaching forward to his mother.
"Hi, baby!" Anna greets, taking her son's small hand to press a kiss to his palm. The toddler babbles something incoherent to his parents before demanding to be let down.
"Alright, bud, just give me a second." Kristoff groans as he leans over, setting his son loose. As one child leaves his arms, Astrid races towards him, occupying the space that was once taken up by her brother.
The young man presses a kiss to his second borne's temple before standing up straight, taking the 3-year-old by the hand instead of picking her up. Anna glances down as she feels Astrid tugging at her skirt, demanding that she hold hands as well. The young woman acquiesces to the toddler's demand, walking down the road with her family.
Eliza has Erik by the hand, leading the toddler towards their home with a smile and chorus of giggles. Astrid does not remain separated from her siblings for long, racing after them on her chubby legs, nearly colliding with Erik.
Anna closes the distance between her and Kristoff, taking him by the arm as they watch their children run down the community's road.
Thea tucked in her mossbag, slowly drifting off to sleep. Erik attempting to keep up with his sisters, grinning as Eliza swings their arms in tandem. Astrid running ahead of them giggling before turning back to wait for her family to catch up.
Anna's eyes finally stop Eliza, her eldest. The five-year-old calling out for her younger sister, successfully urging Astrid to take her hand. Her rust-coloured hair now free from their plaits as it blows in the breeze. A small smile comes to Anna’s face as she thinks about everything the two of them have been through with one another.
At one point in their lives, they were all each other had. So alone in the world and disconnected from everything they knew. They were not alone anymore.
Nearly five years ago, Anna was certain that Hans had stripped her of her culture, language and identity, trying to impose his idea of civility and properness on her. What Europeans expected of her and her people. She had felt that she would never regain her place within Ahtohallan.
But there she stood with Kristoff, her husband, who loved her, standing by her side and four children carrying on those traditions and language that were threatened. She had been victorious.
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treeremovalnorthsydney · 1 year ago
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Tree Lopping Sydney North Shore
Branch out tree specialists, your local tree experts based in the eastern suburbs but covering all of Sydney our staff are UK and Australian qualified Arborists with over 15 years experience. Our work ranges from small prunes to large removals, consistently achieving the best results.
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longislandtreeservice · 5 years ago
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killerkyara · 5 years ago
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Shephard to the Stars
Before —
Quai,
I am undertaking a dangerous mission for my own health. A ritual that will dampen the effects of the void on my mind and body, if successful. It has all gotten worse as of late; I fear that if I don’t do something now, I could end up sharing in Wellson’s fate.
There are risks involved, risks that I have given much thought to. Given recent events, my threshold is already lowered. While I do regret to thrust this burden upon you — in the event that I do not return home, I ask that you take care of Matin in my stead. He loves you more than you know, and I trust you more than anyone on this plane or beyond. 
And if I do return, let it be known, then, that I’d have you as my successor.
My eternal thanks,
Grey.
[Edited rp with @celestare​.]
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Thick clouds swarmed the skies starting in the Barrens. The duo progressed into the bowels of a building thunderstorm; by the time they landed, rain had begun to fall, soaking hair and clothes, moisture trapped in the humid atmosphere of the desert. Kyara instructs Aeondra on where to land. Up north, bordering Tanaris, separated only by hills. The oasis was misty, quiet, though the shapes of lumbering crocodiles in the shallow water could be made out with a keen eye. 
After dismounting, Kyara nods once, surveying the scene. "...This is where I most often hid from my father, when I had the chance to run. Camped among the trees." Her gaze followed the tall palms up into the sky, until their trunks disappeared into the fog.
“A solitary oasis.” Aeondra notes, solemn and gentle. She steps to Kyara’s side and holds out her right hand, palm facing up. “The stone, if you would. And prepare to enter the water. I will keep you safe from the reptiles, pay them no mind.”
Kyara nods. She draws out a bracelet from her belt; it was a sterling silver piece, meticulously crafted. Set in the pendant was a brilliant, glowing moonstone, one that shown like a lantern-light in the mist. She pries it from its setting with her bare hands, passes it off, and removes her boots to wade into the water.
Aeondra takes the gem. Her eyes linger on it for a time, before she leads Kyara to the water’s edge. She holds out her left hand, clearly showing her intent before she commits to the action of grabbing Kyara’s wrist. She pulls her further into the water, stopping when Kyara is up to her knees. 
“This may be painful. I am going to attempt to use your arm as the conduit...Keep it raised out toward me.” She takes her hand away, and uses it to fetch a vial of moonwell water. She pours it over the surface of the stone slowly, singing in an ancient hymn; one whose words are lost in any modern translation.
Kyara’s expression was steely, fierce, with droplets running down her face, slipping over her cheekbones and lips. Bangs slicked to her forehead, covered her eyes some. She exhaled a low breath and kept her arms out steady.
The stone resonates on contact with the holy water. The rivulets that pour over it mingle with the surface of the pool. Specks of moonlight trail throughout the oasis, suspended in the clear water. Aeondra continues her hymn, singing it quietly. As she focuses, her eyes shut, and the stone shines brighter. 
Gradually it seems to crumble in Aeondra’s grip, her fingers pushing against and molding it. The stone is soon liquified, coating the Warden’s digits and palms in a sparkling, resplendent light. Her eyes open again, and she reaches out to take Kyara’s extended arm. One hand to the wrist, one to the forearm. The touch would feel strange; power thrums in the Warden’s hands, simultaneously distance, yet deeply personal. 
As though the stars above have come to Azeroth’s surface to interact with Kyara, and Kyara alone.
A gasp-like breath sounded from the rogue, drowned out by the pouring rain. She shudders at the sensation which passed through Aeondra and soaked into her own being. Where the rain touched her flesh now, it felt ice cold, revitalizing. She stares straight ahead, focusing on the Warden's expression, wide-eyed, expectant.
Aeondra meets her gaze, sharing in the contact as she presses her fingers firmer into the agent’s flesh. Her skin would start to become more translucent as the moon’s power courses within, and Aeondra migrates her touch further up the arm. The pouring rain streaks through the Warden’s soaked hair, but she does not seem disrupted by it. Her power pushes on, beyond the physical. It endeavors to find the lingering shade, and ‘wrap’ itself about. A containing effort, but with N’Zoth’s growing influence in the world, variable can prove far less predictable.
The intrusion takes Kyara by surprise; clinging to the taller woman, she forces herself to not give out at the knees, as the ethereal power transcends into flesh. There was not one source, one single mote of corruption within her that could be dealt with, pruned, like a weed; rather, it permeated her, ran in the blood, and reacted violently to being encroached upon. Though Kyara did not move, her flesh did; like worms beneath the skin, darkness skitters, crawls, retreating from their shared touch, darkening her veins a sickly purple.
The silt beneath the Warden’s feet does not move despite this development, the amount of shadow within Kyara proving hostile. She does not pour more energy into it yet, only maintaining the current level. She keeps her eyes locked with Kyara’s, and states, “It is too much to dampen. It is resisting violently.”
Kyara grits her teeth, fighting her way through it, the flopping of her stomach around in her own body, the movement beneath flesh. "Keep going." She orders. "I cannot return, not without something to show of it. Keep going." She nods, meeting eyes with her, fiercely determined.
In that moment, it is made clear that she realized the stakes, planned for them even; either this worked, or she would die trying.
Aeondra keeps her stare level, and states, “If you die from this, I will shepherd you to the stars.” Whether that is meant to comfort is a mystery, but she surges forward, putting both of her hands to Kyara’s head instead of her arm. She focuses, pouring an obscene amount of lunar magic through her palms, smearing Grey’s face in that liquified moonstone. 
Overhead, the clouds roll over each other like waves, gathering atop the pool, trapping the pair of them in air that was somehow both bone-chilling cold, and maddeningly warm. Lightning crackles in these towering columns, close enough that the sound of it was like a godly whip being cast across the sky, a sound that could be felt within the body. Kyara grounds herself against the assault upon her very self, pulling forth the same resolve that allowed her to step on a battlefield, that allowed her to love, brandishing it like a shield. 
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The sensation of the void crawling from her flesh, collecting out of her back, was an otherworldly pain, a pain that could not be rightly described or even replicated to the same degree. It was one that prevented a cry, prevented any noise to make her agony known. Eyes rolled back into her head at it, but still she remained standing; it was unclear if this was due to her own accord, or that of something higher.
The cracks of thunder shake the Warden’s spine, but not her resolve. The thrum of the furious sky does not cause her to waver, but instead emboldens her. She pushes more of her weight into the effort; bending Kyara slightly backward as she digs her fingers tightly into the side of her head. The remnants of the moonstone streak down her cheeks, over the front of herself, their cooling wake giving that same distant power to her skin. Aeondra’s grip seems metaphysical; beyond the realm of mortal touch. It seeks to grab the whole of the shade within her, now that it has been disrupted and targets directly. She seeks to peel it straight from Kyara’s body, and launch it back to shore.
The essence is flung to the dunes, and there it coalesces, massing into an humanoid figure; a shade, that stood roughly at Kyara's build, her height, without any distinguishing features. There, it awaits — unmoving, but decidedly real. It was not a shadow, nor something incorporeal, but a wholly physical body.
The power it takes to rip it out is considerate; Aeondra is no stranger to pushing her boundaries, but the lack of sleep and the intensity of this effort leaves her vulnerable and panting. She releases Kyara, and slowly ramps down her magics, hoping that she can at least regain consciousness.
After being released, the rogue stumbles backward, blearily turning to face the darkness. She does not yet understand what she is seeing, but the contest has already begun. 
The shade engages, shimmering forth and slamming it's full weight into her body. She is knocked off her feet, sent several yards backward, landing where the water was deepest. It is a great struggle to lift herself out of it to stand.
The storm and presence of an empowered Aeondra are enough to keep other shadows, and wildlife at a distance, thankfully. Though she is not prepared for the shade’s lunge. She is also thrown back, landing in the water on her back, causing a truly massive splash. She stands, even more sluggish than Kyara. 
“This — this is your fight, Grey.” She manages to utter. “You have been blessed by my hand. Make...use. Of Elune’s power. Strike, and she will follow.”
Kyara is well and panting by now, spitting out brackish water, shaking it from her wet hair in her face, "But, I do not know-" She has no more time to question. The shade lunges across the water, and in a blind fury, Kyara launches a fist for it. Bright light sparkles in her wake; her punch impacts the creature with a loud hiss of something burnt, a crackle of angry thunder. It retreats backward, lingering at the shore a moment, wounded in some right. She gawks.
“Elune is not like any other.” Aeondra speaks only when Kyara succeeds in her strike, watching with a low approval, a hidden smile. “You only need to put yourself in her path. She will be at your back. She does not demand that you sing her name, or bask in her presence...You command yourself, to your best end. She will support you. I have made sure of it.”
Kyara glances to Aeondra, her expression solemn, understanding. Cloaked in light, she moves like a snake for the shore, startled as the shade meets her attack in equal measure; they clash uselessly at the arms, as if cancelling each other out. In the span of a breath, she realizes that if it holds her knowledge, skill, ability, she cannot fight like herself. 
As it swipes for her, she takes on a defensive position, dodging and leading the figure back into the glowing water, where she felt strongest.
Aeondra focuses on getting herself back to a functioning level. She remains in the pool, sitting within it, immersing herself. The portion of moonwell water starts to coalesce around her — as well as Kyara. In time, she would be well again. But for now, she is removed. 
The shadow is drawn into the pool, and wherever it meets contact with the sacred water suspended within, it seethes. Its face is a swirl of blackness, haunting and deep-set, though Kyara could feel herself  within the abyss. It rises from the water and lunges, aiming to spear her with dark clones of her own blades.
Kyara thinks like her own opponent, a daunting task in her state; though, perhaps all those training drills will prove useful. She sidesteps, using her own weight to her advantage, throwing herself over the shade to shove it down into the blessed waters. Her skin bristles where she touches it. Mentally, she battles a strong urge to let it envelop her once more, swallow her into a comforting embrace. Without it she feels naked, bare, but gradually growing in power.
In that moment of weakness, where Kyara only had herself to depend on, a swelling of Elune’s power courses through the places Aeondra touched her — through her face, the sides of her head, the translucent arm. The shadow merely tries to pull her in the water with it, its limbs trying around her own, in an inhuman manner, as though they were really tendrils. 
“Sink with me.” It sings, its voice a perfect replica of Kyara’s.
Kyara is grabbed with a start; the tendrils felt familiar, warm somehow, beckoning to her weary mind. She is pulled down to her knees, barely managing to keep her head and shoulders above water. Her entire face contorts with the strain, the energy it draws out of her.
The form of the being seems to be unraveling at its edges, though that is not seen by Aeondra. The periphery of the shadow becomes less and less refined, blurring and shifting incoherently. Its grip tightens around her limbs, seeking to pull her deeper into the water.
“Come, and drown. Let it all free. Let it all go.”
Kyara falters. As the tendril coils against the flesh of her chest, over the heart, her eyes widen. She doubles over suddenly, as if stabbed between the ribs; years of heartache, guilt, collapse into themselves, as the dark manifestation struck at where she was most vulnerable. It proves to disable her entirely. The void envelops her, sinking back into her flesh, stubbornly claiming it's place — defiant, even, in the face of Elune's celestial interference. 
The clouds, water, all seems to darken, grow cold.
“What my father would think of me now.” She could not help but think.
mentioned: @quai-mason​​, @brian-wellson​​
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Arborist Sydney North Shore
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Are you tossing up whether to hire an Arborist Sydney North Shore or attempt a DIY, there are a number of factors you should consider before making your choice! An arborist is a person who is professionally trained in the practice of arboriculture. Arborists can assist with tree removals, pruning, planting, stump cutting, creating structural support, removing hazardous plants and more. They can perform work on even the tallest of trees! One of the main benefits to hiring an Arborist Sydney North Shore is that they are highly trained in proper tree care. Find us here
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northshoretreeloppers · 9 months ago
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Tree Removal & Cutting in North Shore: Why Choose North Shore Tree Loppers?
When it comes to maintaining the beauty and safety of your property in North Shore, tree removal and cutting are essential services. Whether you’re dealing with an overgrown tree that's encroaching on your home, a dead tree that poses a safety risk, or simply want to improve the aesthetics of your landscape, professional tree lopping is the solution. At North Shore Tree Loppers, we specialize in providing expert tree removal and cutting services that meet the highest standards of safety and efficiency.
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