#unguarded henry is best henry

[sturmhondsdemjin]

Seven part three

He tilts the phone over toward the driver’s seat. “Say good morning to your strumpet, Henry.”

“Good morning, strumpet,” Henry says, glancing away from the road to wink at the camera. He’s looking fresh-faced and relaxed, all rolled-up sleeves and soft gray linen, and Alex feels calmer knowing somewhere in Wales, Henry got a decent night’s sleep.

“I beg of you. Alex, what part of ‘nothing he cannot do’ did you think was worth testing? Honestly, you are going to get us all killed.”

“That’s the goal,” Alex says happily.

Pez frees himself by licking Henry’s palm and continues talking. “Frolic naked in the hills, frighten the sheep, return to the house for the usual: tea, biscuits, casting ourselves upon the Thighmaster of love to moan about Claremont-Diaz siblings, which has become tragically one-sided since Henry took up with you. It used to be all bottles of cognac and shared malaise and ‘When will they notice us’—”

“Don’t tell him that!”

“—and now I just ask Henry, ‘What is your secret?’ And he says, ‘I insult Alex all the time and that seems to work.’”

“I will turn this car around.”

Alex curls around his phone and his pillow as the sun comes up over DC. He’s always wanted to be a person with a legacy in this world. Henry is undoubtedly, determinedly that. It’s a little intoxicating.

There’s a huge garden party at the White House, and Nora is there in a dress and blazer and a sly smile, pressing a kiss to the side of Alex’s jaw.

“The last of the White House Trio finally graduates,” she says, grinning. “And he didn’t even have to bribe any professors with political or sexual favors to do it.”

“I think some of them might finally manage to purge me from their nightmares soon,” Alex says.

“Y’all do school weird,” June says, crying a little.

It starts with a fund-raiser, a silk suit and a big check, a nice white-tablecloth event. It starts, as it always does, with a text: Fund-raiser in LA next weekend. Pez says he’s going to get us all matching embroidered kimonos. Put you down for a plus-two?

[…] where Alex gets to properly meet Bea for the first time. She’s much shorter than Henry, shorter even than June, with Henry’s clever mouth but their mom’s brown hair and heart-shaped face. She’s wearing a motorcycle jacket over her cocktail dress and has a slight posture he recognizes from his own mother as a reformed chainsmoker. She smiles at Alex, wide and mischievous, he gets her immediately: another rebel kid.

Pez has, as promised, six matching silk kimonos waiting in the limo, each one embroidered across the back with a different riff on a name from a movie. Alex’s is a lurid real and says HOE DAMERON. Henry’s lime-green one reads PRINCE BUTTERCUP.

“Oh, dear,” Henry says, peering down into his empty shot glass. “What’s in these? Vodka?”

“Yep,” Nora confirms, to which both Pez and Bea break into fits of giggles.

“What?” Alex says.

“Oh, I haven’t had vodka since uni,” Henry says. “It tends to make me, erm. Well―”

“Flamboyant?” Pez offers. “Uninhibited? Randy?”

“Fun?” Bea suggests.

“Excuse you, I am loads of fun all the time! I am a delight!”

“Hello, excuse me, can we get another round of these please?” Alex calls down the bar.

Bea screams, Henry laughs and throws up a V, and it all goes hazy and warm in the way Alex loves. They all tumble into a round booth, and the lights are low, and he and Henry are keeping a safe distance, but Alex can’t stop staring at how the special-effect beams keep hitting Henry’s cheekbones, hollowing his face out in blues and greens. He’s something else―half-drunk and grinning in a $2,000 suit and a kimono, and Alex can’t tear his eyes away.

Nora has produced a bottle of champagne and starts spraying Henry with it, and Alex loses his mind laughing, climbs on top of his seat and wolf whistles.

Alex feels a tug on his arm―Bea, dragging him down to the stage. She grabs his hand and sounds him in a ballerina twirl, and he puts one of her roses between his teeth, and they watch Henry and grin at each other through the noise. Alex feels somewhere, under the fifty layers of booze, something crystal clear radiating off her, a shared knowledge of how rare and wonderful this version of Henry is.

“Bisexuality is truly a rich and complex tapestry,”

[wordsofhoneydew]

it’s wednesday!!

i’m posting super early this week :) also chose this random banner bc i lost my wip wednesday one and got too lazy to remake it LOL

happy (not so happy?) birthday alex!! i promise you’ll have a happy ending in this <3

here is more pining alex:

+

i thought i found the answer to it: eternal happiness tonight:

Alex has basically found the answer to living a happy and content life: He’s making his way through a steady career path as a law student at NYU. Has a flourishing social life while maintaining a solid 4.0 gpa. His best friend, Nora and sister, June live in the same city, looking after him in place of his parents (which he insists on not needing them to, but appreciates it nonetheless). And has definitely gotten over unrequited feelings for his friend, Henry.

It all checks out. He thinks to himself as he watches Nora, June and their friend Percy dance together in a way that would only describe them as wild and free. A bundle of toothy smiles and delightful laughter as they jive along to Candyman by Christina Aguilera. Alex looks at Henry as he waits at the bar for the next round of drinks, everyone else around them looking as uncultivated as ever.

Alex tries not to notice the way Henry’s shirt clings sinfully to his biceps, or the way his blond hair is slicked with sweat across his forehead from passionately dancing minutes before. He especially tries not to notice the handsome smile plastered on his face as he’s walking back now, taking careful steps around the crowd of dancing people as he tries not to spill the tray of shots he’s holding. A high pitched giggle escapes his lips as he sets it down on the table in front of Alex, but Alex never strays his focus away from Henry’s face. The way his blue eyes gleam reminding him of the water at his father’s lake house back in Texas—dark and all consuming—as he looks back at Alex so intently. He could get lost in them forever.

just another blip in my heart:

He’s laughing at some suggestive joke Pez makes, head tipped back and smile completely unguarded. The sheen sweat on his cheekbones makes his skin glow under the luminescent lights of the club, as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. And Alex just watches him in quietude, utterly infatuated with Henry’s natural beauty. It makes his heart clench in his chest; knowing that he can’t have him, that Henry doesn’t feel the same way as he does.

+

ofc tags are always open <3

@eusuntgratie @nocoastposts @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @firstprincexo @firenati0n @itsmaybitheway @tinyarmedtrex @bitbybitwrites @rockyroadkylers @captainjunglegym @saturntheday @bigassbowlingballhead @suseagull04 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @magicandarchery @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @getmehighonmagic @sparklepocalypse @inexplicablymine @indomitable-love @happiness-of-the-pursuit @read-and-write- @cha-melodius @junebugclaremontdiaz @heysweetheart-writes @alasse9 @sunnysideprince @strandnreyes @songliili @daisymae-12 @o0anapher0o @littlemisskittentoes @gayrootvegetable @affectionatelyrs @kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @user-anakin @whimsymanaged @leojfitz @cricketnationrise @futureseaempress @duchessdepolignaca03 @raysletters

[richincolor]

New Releases

A whole slew of books to start our summer off right. Which of these is your first summer read?

Northranger by Rey Terciero illustrated by Bre Indigo HarperAlley

Cade has always loved to escape into the world of a good horror movie. After all, horror movies are scary–but to Cade, a closeted queer Latino teen growing up in rural Texas–real life can be way scarier.

When Cade is sent to spend the summer working as a ranch hand to help earn extra money for his family, he is horrified. Cade hates everything about the ranch, from the early mornings to the mountains of horse poop he has to clean up. The only silver lining is the company of the two teens who live there–in particular, the ruggedly handsome and enigmatic Henry.

But as unexpected sparks begin to fly between Cade and Henry, things get… complicated. Henry is reluctant to share the details of his mother’s death, and Cade begins to wonder what else he might be hiding. Inspired by the gothic romance of Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey and perfect for fans of Heartstopper and Bloom comes a modern love story so romantic it’s scary.

Pedro & Daniel by Federico Erebia illustrated by Julie Kwon Levine Querido

Pedro and Daniel are Mexican American brothers growing up in 1970s Ohio. Their mother resents that Pedro is a spitting image of their darker-skinned father; that Daniel likes dolls; that neither boy plays sports. Both are gay and neurodivergent. They are alike, but they are dissimilar in their struggles, their dreams, their approach to life.

Pedro & Daniel is a sweeping and deeply personal novel that spans from childhood, through their teen years, and into adulthood. Theirs is a bond that won’t be broken. Together they endure an abusive home life, coming out, first loves, first jobs, and the AIDS pandemic, in a coming-of-age story unlike any other.

Despite everything, there is much joy in the stories in the book. Their resilience and special bond help the boys face one evil after another. While Pedro suffers more at home, Daniel is particularly susceptible to the malevolence of the outside world.

They are similar: gay, neurodivergent Latinos in love with all things Mexico.

Son tal para cual. They are cut from the same cloth.

They are different: Pedro is darker-skinned, oppressed, repressed, introverted, and agnostic. Daniel is precocious, carefree, mischievous, religious, and unguarded.

Mismo perro, distinto collar. Same dog, different collar.

When it All Syncs Up by Maya Ameyaw Annick Press

Ballet is Aisha’s life. So when she’s denied yet another lead at her elite academy because she doesn’t “look” the part, she knows something has to change–the constant discrimination is harming her mental health. Switching to her best friend Neil’s art school seems like the perfect plan at first. But she soon discovers racism and bullying are entrenched in the ballet program here, too, and there’s a new, troubling distance between her and Neil. And as past traumas surface, pressure from friends and family, a new romance, and questions about her dance career threaten to overwhelm her. There’s no choreography to follow–for high school or for healing. Aisha will have to find the strength within herself–and place her trust in others–to make her next move.

Good as Gold by Candace Buford Disney Hyperion

Casey’s life in Langston has been charmed. She’s the queen bee of her prep school, a shoe-in for prom queen, and on her way to the Ivy League come fall. She can’t wait to leave the whole town of Langston behind her. That is until her father loses his job and she finds herself on the brink of losing her ticket out of town.

The town of Langston is known for its picturesque lake and robust summer tourism. Everyone who lives in town has heard the rumors at some point– there is a treasure buried deep below the surface that no one has ever been able to find. Few people actually believe in the treasure, and even fewer have searched for it. But some have tried . . .

Suddenly an outcast from her popular squad, Casey falls in with a new group of friends who are exactly the opposite of her usual crowd, but are more accepting. Together they devise a plan to find the elusive treasure, in a quest to get the money and save Casey’s family and her future. But what they find is much more complicated than just a pile of gold. With thrilling twists and turns and high stakes adventure, fans of Outer Banks will devour this summer adventure.

The Dos and Donuts of Love by Adiba Jaigirdar Feiwel & Friends

“Welcome to the first ever Junior Irish Baking Show!”

Shireen Malik is still reeling from the breakup with her ex-girlfriend, Chris, when she receives news that she’s been accepted as a contestant on a new televised baking competition show. This is Shireen’s dream come true! Because winning will not only mean prize money, but it will also bring some much-needed attention to You Drive Me Glazy, her parents’ beloved donut shop.

Things get complicated, though, because Chris is also a contestant on the show. Then there’s the very outgoing Niamh, a fellow contestant who is becoming fast friends with Shireen. Things are heating up between them, and not just in the kitchen.

As the competition intensifies , Shireen will have to ignore all these factors and more― including potential sabotage―if she wants a sweet victory!

The Grimoire of Grave Fates edited by Hanna Alkaf & Margaret Owen Delacorte Press

Professor of Magical History Septimius Dropwort has just been murdered, and now everyone at the Galileo Academy for the Extraordinary is a suspect.

A prestigious school for young magicians, the Galileo Academy has recently undergone a comprehensive overhaul, reinventing itself as a roaming academy in which students of all cultures and identities are celebrated. In this new Galileo, every pupil is welcome—but there are some who aren’t so happy with the recent changes. That includes everyone’s least favorite professor, Septimius Dropwort, a stodgy old man known for his harsh rules and harsher punishments. But when the professor’s body is discovered on school grounds with a mysterious note clenched in his lifeless hand, the Academy’s students must solve the murder themselves, because everyone’s a suspect.

Told from more than a dozen alternating and diverse perspectives, The Grimoire of Grave Fates follows Galileo’s best and brightest young magicians as they race to discover the truth behind Dropwort’s mysterious death. Each one of them is confident that only they have the skills needed to unravel the web of secrets hidden within Galileo’s halls. But they’re about to discover that even for straight-A students, magic doesn’t always play by the rules. . . .

Contributors include: Cam Montgomery, Darcie Little Badger, Hafsah Faizal, Jessica Lewis, Julian Winters, Karuna Riazi, Kat Cho, Kayla Whaley, Kwame Mbalia, L. L. McKinney, Marieke Nijkamp, Mason Deaver, Natasha Díaz, Preeti Chhibber, Randy Ribay, Tehlor Kay Mejia, Victoria Lee, and Yamile Saied Méndez

Secret of the Moon Conch by David Bowles and Guadalupe Garcia McCall Bloomsbury

In modern-day Mexico, Sitlali has no family left and has caught the attention of a dangerous gang leader. She has no choice but to make the perilous trip to the US border and track down her long-absent father. The night before her journey, she finds a beautiful conch shell detailed with ancient markings.

In 1521, Calizto is an Aztec young warrior in Tenochtitlan, fighting desperately to save his city from Spanish imperialists. With his family dead and the horrors of war surrounding him, Calizto asks a sacred moon conch for guidance.

Connected by the magical conch, Sitlali and Calizto can communicate across centuries, finding comfort in each other as they fight to survive. With each conversation, they fall deeper in love, but will they be able to find a way to each other?

Ride or Die by Gail-Agnes Musikavanhu Soho Teen

Best friends Loli Crawford and Ryan Pope have earned their nickname, the “Bonnie and Clyde of Woolridge High.” From illegal snack swapping in kindergarten to reckless car surfing in high school, they have been causing trouble in their uptight California town forever. Everyone knows that the mischief starts with Loli. When it comes to chasing thrills, drama, and adventure, no one is on her level.

At least until Loli throws the wildest party Woolridge High has ever seen just to steal a necklace and meets X, a strange, unidentified boy in a coat closet, who challenges her to a game she can’t refuse—one that promises to put her love of danger to the ultimate test.

Loli and X begin an anonymous correspondence, exchanging increasingly risky missions. Loli’s fun has always been free and easy, but things spin out of control as she attempts to one-up X’s every move. As Loli risks losing everything—including her oldest friend—she’ll face the most dangerous thing of all: falling for someone she shouldn’t.

The Queens of New York by E.L. Shen Quill Tree

Best friends Jia Lee, Ariel Kim, and Everett Hoang are inseparable. But this summer, they won’t be together. Everett, aspiring Broadway star, hopes to nab the lead role in an Ohio theater production, but soon realizes that talent and drive can only get her so far. Brainy Ariel is flying to San Francisco for a prestigious STEM scholarship, even though her heart is in South Korea, where her sister died last year. And stable, solid Jia will be home in Flushing, juggling her parents’ Chinatown restaurant, a cute new neighbor, and dreams for an uncertain future. As the girls navigate heartbreaking surprises and shocking self-discoveries, they find that even though they’re physically apart, they are still mighty together.

Always Isn’t Forever by J.C. Cervantes Razorbill

Best friends and soul mates since they were kids, Hart Augusto and Ruby Armenta were poised to take on senior year together when Hart tragically drowns in a boating accident. Absolutely shattered, Ruby struggles to move on from the person she knows was her forever love.

Hart can’t let go of Ruby either…. Due to some divine intervention, he’s offered a second chance. Only it won’t be as simple as bringing him back to life—instead, Hart’s soul is transferred to the body of local bad boy.

When Hart returns to town as Jameson, he realizes that winning Ruby back will be more challenging than he’d imagined. For one, he’s forbidden from telling Ruby the truth. And with each day he spends as Jameson, memories of his life as Hart begin to fade away.

Though Ruby still mourns Hart, she can’t deny that something is drawing her to Jameson. As much as she doesn’t understand the sudden pull, it can’t be ignored. And why does he remind her so much of Hart? Desperate to see if the connection she feels is real, Ruby begins to open her heart to Jameson—but will their love be enough to bridge the distance between them?

Something More by Jackie Khalilieh Tundra Books

Fifteen-year-old Jessie, a quirky loner obsessed with the nineties, is diagnosed as autistic just weeks before starting high school. Determined to make a fresh start and keep her diagnosis a secret, Jessie creates a list of goals that range from acquiring two distinct eyebrows to getting a magical first kiss and landing a spot in the school play. Within the halls of Holy Trinity High, she finds a world where things are no longer black and white and quickly learns that living in color is much more fun. But Jessie gets more than she bargained for when two very different boys steal her heart, forcing her to go off-script.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Today in adaptation bias syndrome:

A person was saying that in North and South Mr Bell wanted to marry Margaret, to which I answered that in the book he only means to adopt her as his daughter, and the only person he jokingly talks about marrying is aunt Shaw.

So they reply back telling me to "please, go read the book" (lol) and that he clearly mentions this intention of marrying Margaret, in passing, to John Thornton.

The only quote I can think of is this one:

“Margaret you mean. Yes! I am going to tell her. Poor fellow! how full his thoughts were of her all last night! Good God! Last night only. And how immeasurably distant he is now! But I take Margaret as my child for his sake. I said last night I would take her for her own sake. Well, I take her for both.”

Mr. Thornton made one or two fruitless attempts to speak, before he could get out the words:

“What will become of her?”

“I rather fancy there will be two people waiting for her: myself for one. I would take a live dragon into my house to live, if by hiring such a chaperon, and setting up an establishment of my own, I could make my old age happy with having Margaret for a daughter. But there are those Lennoxes!”

“Who are they?” asked Mr. Thornton with trembling interest.

“Oh, smart London people, who very likely will think that they’ve the best right to her. Captain Lennox married her cousin—the girl she was brought up with. Good enough people, I dare say. And there’s her Aunt, Mrs. Shaw. There might be a way open, perhaps, by my offering to marry that worthy lady! but that would be quite a pis aller. And then there’s that brother!”

“What brother? A brother of her aunt’s?”

“No, no; a clever Lennox (the captain’s a fool, you must understand); a young barrister, who will be setting his cap at Margaret. I know he has had her in his mind these five years or more; one of his chums told me as much; and he was only kept back by want of fortune. Now that will be done away with.”

“How?” asked Mr. Thornton, too earnestly curious to be aware of the impertinence of his question.

“Why, she’ll have my money at my death. And if this Henry Lennox is half good enough for her, and she likes him—well! I might find another way of getting a home through a marriage. I’m dreadfully afraid of being tempted, at an unguarded moment, by her aunt.”

How can you read that as Mr Bell meaning to marry Margaret, unless you were looking for what you saw first in the 2004 series?

[whyyourteamisgood]

2023 - Week 18

BUF - The Bills are the 2 seed in the AFC

NE - The Patriots have a top 3 pick and a chance at a generational QB to kickoff a new era

MIA - Tyreek Hill looks like the clear best WR in the NFL

NYJ - Breece Hall was second to Christian McCaffrey in yards from scrimmage for a RB

BAL - The Ravens have home field advantage throughout the playoffs

PIT - The Steelers are on to the playoffs in their 17th straight non-losing season

CLE - The Browns are onto the playoffs with the likely Defensive Player of the Year in Myles Garrett

CIN - The Bengals seemingly have 2 of the best 3 QBs in the division

TEN - if this was it for Derrick Henry, he finished with a bang, spoiling the Jags season and vaulting himself up the rushing leaderboard to lead the AFC for the season

JAX - Evan Engram had 114 receptions this year, second most all time for a TE

IND - The Colts barely missed the playoffs and are getting their dynamite QB back next year

HOU - The Texans went worst to first in their division and picked up their franchise QB in the process

KC - The Chiefs have Patrick Mahomes and no one else does

LV - The Raiders finished with a positive point differential, a second place finish in the divison, and may have identified their coach of the future

LAC - Justin Herbert will be back healthy next year and will likely have reeled in an elite coach to take the team to the next level

DEN - The Broncos successfully tanked to get a top 12 draft pick

DAL - The Cowboys are the 2 seed in the NFC

WAS - The Commanders have a top 2 pick and a chance at a generational QB to kickoff a new era

PHL - Jalen Hurts set an NFL record for rushing TDs in a season for a QB

NYG - The Giants beat the hell out of the Eagles to end the season on a high note

GB - The Packers are back in the playoffs and it sure looks like they may be onto their third elite QB in a row

CHI - The Bears were close to playoff position and still get the first overall pick

DET - The Lions are hosting a playoff game for the first time in more than a quarter century

MIN - Justin Jefferson is unguardable when healthy

NO - The Saints finished the season winning 4 of their last 5

TB - The Bucs won the NFC South

ATL - The Falcons wasted no time firing Arthur Smith and have enough top offensive talent to attract a top mind to shape them

CAR - The Panthers defense allowed the fewest yards per game in the NFC

SEA - The Seahawks finished the season winning 3 of their last 4

LAR - The Rams are in the playoffs and have a case for both the offensive and defensive rookies of the year

ARI - The Cardinals played some impressive football to close the season, and still tanked enough to get a top 4 pick

SF - The Niners have home field advantage throughout the playoffs

[ioc-1936]

A failed kidnapping!

The year is 1936, the games are occurring in a few months. An operative was seen breaking into the house of IOC Head President Henri de Baillet in Brussels by US intelligence officers. The operative was captured and after “enhanced interrogation,” he claimed he was working for the Indian and Portuguese IOC committees. He thought the house would be unguarded. This news was made public to all IOC committees. 

Due to the strong condemnations of racism, sexism, etc. by the IOC, all athletes are now willing to stay and play for the Olympic Games (except Ahmed Sher Khan, he is still injured). 

Due to a dueling conference that occurred a few months ago, dueling nations have increased their skills:

The Monopoly Alliance: 30+100=130(D), 100(P), 100(C), 100(T)

Team Best Team: 20+70=90(D), 100(P), 100(C), 100(T)

France has been tandem bicycling: 

Team Best Team: 90(D), 100(P), 10+100(C), 100(T)

Beer Pong is now an Olympic Sport.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Though I Can't Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love For You

Summary: Spencer’s always been ambivalent about his birthday, but self proclaimed lover of birthday’s Y/N attempts to change that.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer’s kind of a sad bitch. Question: Why do I like writing sad Spencer?

Word Count: 2.5 K- ish

Author’s Note: prompts come from here this one is 4,8,25 from @shemarmooresfedora !! please go check out her blog on here and on Ao3!! Also, I’m stilling taking requests for numbers. I’ll update for which ones have been taken 💕

Though I Can’t Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love for You

Birthdays were always hard when all you had to do is go home to an empty house. No sounds of friends crowding the dining room table, no laughter from family members, no well wishes or pats on the back. All there is, is the stillness of silence and the emptiness of solitude. Spencer thought that he was used to it. He remembers the way the sun felt on his face the morning he woke up on his 18th birthday. His first thought wasn’t it’s my day, but it’s the day I put my mom away. The day Spencer became a man, was the first day he really wished he was a little boy again.

Ever since then, birthdays have always been a sore spot for Spencer. They just bring up sour tasting memories of his mother refusing to get out of bed or his father staying late at work to avoid coming home to a wife who doesn’t remember her own husband or a son who he can’t seem to understand. Birthdays, for Spencer, have always been just another day. Or at least, that’s what Spencer tells himself on the long ride up the elevator to the 6th floor of the BAU.

The bullpen is dark when Spencer walks out from the elevator. Paperwork and manila folders clutter the desks. Even Spencer’s workspace seems to reflect himself: frozen in time. He sits at his desk, a photograph of him and his mother placed at the right corner smiles up at him. A newer photograph, one of him and Y/N, sits right next to the one with his mom. There’s one with Derek and Penelope, one with him and Gideon at his Academy graduation, and one with him and JJ, who’s holding Henry. One of him and Luke at a bar, Penelope in the background drunk and singing.

Spencer loves photographs, but recently he’s been obsessed with them. Ever since his mother’s diagnosis, the fear that would ever forget the faces that find a home in his heart paralyzes him. These pictures may very well one day tell a much more older, much more grayer Spencer the story of his life. Today, in his mind, is another day closer to his fate.

His birthday means he’s another day closer to forgetting the way Y/N eyes sparkle when she drinks too much rose, or Henry’s laugh at Spencer’s magic tricks, or feeling when Derek calls him his brother. No one, not even Y/N, knows that Spencer has a drawer filled up of photographs he’s collected over the years. He can’t deal with forgetting the principles of electromagnetism, but forgetting his family? Spencer wouldn’t have anything left, but the smiling faces of familiar strangers, whose names are just out of reach.

Spencer rubs his eyes with the ball of his palm. He knows he’s not going to get work done. Spencer spins in his swivel chair and he’s nearly startled out of his quiet thoughts when his phone rings.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he says, swallowing his emotions as he shuts the drawer on the shiny faces.

“You really need to start checking your caller ID, Spence,” Y/N says, with a chuckle. Spencer can practically feel the way she’s smiling. For some reason, her teasing never made him feel bad.

“Well, what do I owe this pleasure?” Spencer asks. He drums his fingers on his desk, waiting for Y/N to respond.

“It seems like we have a missing person case,” Y/N starts, “6’2 male, brown hair, some say his eyes are green and some say they’re brown, so we’ll go with hazel, and he’s like ridiculously smart, but also kind of dumb for avoiding his girlfriend on his birthday,”

Spencer sighs as he launches himself into a long spin in his chair. He’s not surprised that Y/N is calling him; she’s always loved birthdays. She’s always been someone to someone. It’s taken some time to adjust to the fact that Spencer is Y/N’s someone.

“Are you coming to rescue me?” Spencer asks sheepishly. He leans back in his chair, watching the elevator. Y/N might think she’s slick, but Spencer’s sure he knows her better than he knows geographical profiling.

“Maybe, can you tell me how fast elevators can travel up to the 6th floor?”

Spencer opens his mouth, ready to fire statistics on top of statistics, but is silenced by Y/N’s arrival. Spencer tries to remain neutral, remain ambivalent about this day being something more than any other day, but Y/N makes it difficult.

As soon as her feet leave the elevator she launches herself at Spencer, not caring that he’s less than capable of catching anything. In a tangle of arms and legs, Y/N manages to sit herself on Spencer’s lap. His hand snakes around her waist; he holds her so tight that it’s almost like he’s afraid she’s going to get blown out like birthday candles on a cake.

“I can’t believe you thought you could sneak out and come to work, on your birthday of all days,” Y/N says quietly, she threads her fingers through Spencer’s hair. She likes how long it’s gotten and his curl pattern is almost fully restored to their original health from before he went to prison.

“How’d you find me?” Spencer asks, thinking that birthdays might not be so bad if they all involve Y/N sitting in his lap and trying to braid his hair.

“Do you seriously have to ask that? Only the Oracle of Quantico,” Y/N teases and Spencer rolls his eyes, thinking he should have known that Garcia would be the one to track his location for Y/N.

“It’s vaguely illegal for a federal agent to tap into those databases, especially for a civilian,” Spencer counters. Y/N, smiling at him, dips her head down to press light kisses on his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose.

“So’s an ex-Army Ranger giving me his key card to sneak into the BAU,”

“Luke’s in on this too,” Spencer tries to sound upset, but his heart swells at the thought of Penelope, Luke, and Y/N all instigating for his birthday.

“Of course he is, I had to bring out the big guns for my Spencer’s birthday,” Y/N quips. Her fingers climb up Spencer’s sides, tickling him. She likes the kind of laugh that he lets out when she tickles him. It’s a laugh that’s unguarded and full of life. It’s a laugh that doesn’t hold anything back. It’s a laugh that relieves the pressure that festers deep inside him.

Y/N’s hands may make him laugh, but nothing makes him beam more than hearing Y/N call him “my Spencer”. She says it so simply, like my doesn’t even exist, like it’s an involuntary muscle being flexed. For Y/N, loving Spencer came as easy and effortless as breathing.

“You do love birthdays,” Spencer says, looking up at Y/N. He spins them around in his swivel chair, giggling as she lets out a gleeful squeal. Spencer grows dizzy, but he thinks he’s dizzier from Y/N’s love than from spinning in his chair.

“I love your birthday more than any other day, even my birthday,” Y/N says, getting up from Spencer’s lap to pick up the canvas grocery bags she brought with her.

“I was never one for birthdays,” Spencer says quietly. Y/N, more than anyone, knows Spencer’s challenging past. She knows his fears and she knows his dreams. She haunts his every waking moment; somehow a mercurial threat and a constant promise at the same time.

“I know, but I’m sure I’ll make you grow to love them,” Y/N says, “I wasn’t sure which flavor you wanted so I got all of them. Wawa has a surprisingly good selection of Turkey Hill,”

She takes out three gallon sized cartons of ice cream. One coffee with chocolate chips, one butter pecan, and one Moose Tracks. She hands Spencer a spoon and a napkin before sitting down on the floor and opening a carton of the ice cream.

“I do love dairy,” Spencer says, eyeing the ice cream, but considering the consequences of eating the creamy desert. Spencer shoves the statistics about the effects of dairy on a 40 year old with lactose intolerance down and takes his spot next to Y/N on the floor.

He goes to open his carton of ice cream, coffee with chocolate chips, but before he can dig his spoon into the tub, Y/N grabs his wrist.

“No! Spence, wait. Here, take these. And you need to light it,” she says, plopping a couple lactose pills in his hand and digging out a pack of candles and a lighter from her bag.

“Y/N are you out of your mind! We can’t light something in the BAU, god, Emily will kill me,” Spencer says nervously.

“Spence, do you really think Emily Prentiss is going to give me shit for lighting a candle for your birthday in the middle of the office. That woman lives on the edge,” Y/N waves him off and lights a single candle.

Spencer, staring at the lit candle, listens as Y/N sings “Happy Birthday” to him. Sitting criss cross on the floor of the BAU, he watches as the candle light illuminates Y/N’s face. She looks almost ghostly in the dark with the flickering light making her eyes glow. Y/N wishes the song and grasps his hand and squeezes hard.

“Make a wish, baby,” Y/N tells him. She really believes in wishes. Spencer wishes he could believe in wishes. He desperately wants to believe that Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos are somehow tying knots in the places where his string has been cut.

But more than anything, Spencer can’t bear to forget the face of the women across from. He can’t bear to one day not recognize the way her hand feels in his. He can’t accept the possibility of Y/N being anything less than the person he knows best in this world. Spencer doesn’t particularly care for the metaphor of the light going out. But his fears are put at bay when Y/N leans over and pecks his cheek. He can feel her grinning against his skin and like some virus contracted through touch, it’s contagious. Y/N breaks apart from Spencer and motions for him to eat some ice cream. They sit, shoulder to shoulder, against the front of Spencer’s desk eating their ice cream.

“Thank you, for making my birthday special. It’s been a hard year,” Spencer says, letting the tension in the air speak for itself, “my mom didn’t remember me the other day. I hate seeing her like that,”

“I know, sweetheart. You’ve been through so much. That’s why you need to tell me these things,” She says, setting down her ice cream. Y/N places her hands on Spencer’s shoulders, guiding him to place his back against her chest. His head rests in the crook of her neck. Spencer can feel her steady heart beat against his back. It’s a constant, patterned drum amidst the chaos of his mind.

“Can we take a picture, you know, just to remember this day,” Spencer asks, his voice laced with trepidation. He can feel Y/N nod, and move to grab her phone from her pocket.

Spencer sits up and scoots over to open the bottom drawer of his desk. He pulls out an old camera, one where you have to wait for the picture to appear on the print out. He likes the charm in older things, you really have to work for it. He likes the effort that you have to put into getting the picture made.

“Going old school, I see,” Y/N teases as she catches sight of Spencer’s old camera. He returns to his spot, snuggled against her back. Their legs stick out on the floor, his much longer than Y/N’s. Her arms snake around his torso, holding him tight. Spencer holds the camera out, facing them to capture their faces in some archaic selfie style.

The light flashes before Spencer’s eyes, and Y/N’s kiss on the top of his head burns a hole that instantly leaves him craving more. He’d let her draw any pattern she desires, as long as her kisses are the medium and he is her canvas.

“Can you tell me what you wished for?” Y/N asks, her voice low.

Spencer, looking off into the distance, makes a disgruntled noise. He can feel Y/N’s fingers crawl up his sides and her arms encasing his body. She’s shielding him from his demons, but little does she know that the most menacing foe is his mind.

“You’re really not supposed to, but considering you’re my wish I think you have the right to know,” Spencer offers, “I wished that I’ll never forget you. Never forget this life we made together,” He feels his chest constrict. Mentioning his fear makes it seem more palpable; more real.

“Spencer, have you felt that way for a long time?,”

Spencer takes a deep breath, letting the floodgates open.

“I’ve felt like this my whole life, Y/N. I’m terrified to forget you. To forget our children that I haven’t even met yet. Forget who I am. I’m terrified that I’m going to leave you behind in a murky past that I can never remember,” Spencer says. He chokes back the pain. He doesn’t want Y/N memories of him to be marred by fear and darkness.

“This is about your mom, right. Spencer, listen to me. I’ll love you even if that comes true. I don’t need you to recall my face to know you still got love for me. And you're not leaving me behind. I won’t allow that. I’m not leaving you behind, baby,” Y/N says, her voice the most soothing cure.

She’s a power mixture of biochemicals and neurotransmitters. She heals him at an epigenetic level and restores him piece by piece. Her medicine is love.

Or maybe her love is his medicine.

“I’ve never been this scared of losing something, because I never had someone to lose,” Spencer mumbles, he twists his head so his breath is warm against Y/N’s neck. Somehow in this twisted position, Spencer has never felt safer.

“You can’t lose something that can’t be lost, my Spencer. I’m not going anywhere,”

“I love you to the moon and to Saturn,” Spencer says kissing along Y/N’s collarbones.

Like the pictures in the drawer, Spencer tucks away the fears of the future. He swallows the threat of forgetting everything because the promise of love swallows him whole. He craves a future with Y/N with the possibility of forgetting who she is over the life he’d live if he left her behind.

She said it best, even if one day he can’t recall her face, he’ll still have love for her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Please Fix the Story pt 11- Fantasy World

Here it is! The last part of the Fantasy World! 

Master post linked here. 

Enjoy!

___________________________

Liam and I stared at him in shock.

“Stella… the Chosen One meant to save the world… took the forbidden dark magic artifact?” I rubbed my forehead. “What is she thinking?”

“Well obviously she isn’t the savior that the prophecies have made her out to be.” K’llean laughed bitterly. “They got a lot of things wrong now, didn’t they?”

Ignoring him, I threw on a cape over my sleeping clothes, grabbed some boots and headed towards the village center. Liam and K’llean trailed behind me silently, keeping a good distance between them.

As I reached the back room where the artifact had been kept, I paused in the doorway, staring at the empty pedestal where the amulet had rested.

Why would Stella take it and run off? Isn’t it the Dark Lord who is supposed to want the amulet? How far off course is this story?!

“K’llean.” I turned slowly to face the elf, who couldn’t meet my eye. “Did you plan this?”

His face paled, and he backed away from me a few steps. “Belaire, I…”

“After your plan to force me to form a life oath with you, to exile Liam or join him with someone else… Did you plan this next? As a way to force me to bond to protect everyone?”

“NO! I wouldn’t put the forest at risk like that…”

I grabbed his arm, stopping him from backing away further. “Then why do you look so guilty?”

“It’s not... I mean...” He trailed off staring that the ground.“Because…” 

“Because what?!”

“BECAUSE IT’S MY FAULT!!” The words burst from him as he finally met my gaze, the pain in his eyes shocking me into releasing his arm. “I was supposed to make sure no outsiders could enter… but in the end… I left her alone next to an unguarded room.” He looked over to the empty pedestal where the amulet had sat and groaned. “I failed in my duties, practically handing over something that could destroy our home. I ran away.”

I shook my head. “Why…?”

“If I had stayed in here any longer, I would have taken the artifact instead.” He whispered, crouching down, covering his face in his hands. “It spoke to me in my head, offering me everything I ever wanted: home… a family…” he looked up, guilt distorting his features. “…you.”

“So you ran.”

“And put us all at risk.” He stayed crouched down, seeming too tired to stand again.

K’llean… Stella… these characters are broken. I sighed as I stared down at the desolate elf. Is it all my fault? Did I change the story too much?

But… it’s not like I can just sacrifice myself for them like the original story called for.

“Get up.” My words were cold, but K’llean almost seemed relieved as he jumped to his feet.

“Belaire…”

I interrupted him. “Gather the best warriors you’ve got. We’ll track down Stella before she can do anything bad with the amulet.

“Priestess, bad news!”

Dangit! Curse my foreshadowing mouth!

I looked over, surprised to see Violet the fairy, waving her hands anxiously as she called out to me. I reached out to her, and she landed on my shoulder collapsing and trying to catch her breath.

“Violet, what’s going on?”

“The Dark forces are rising deep in the forest.” Her small hands clutched by hair, trembling as she spoke. “The monsters are gathering.”

I felt my stomach drop. “how many?”

“Too many to count!” Purple colored tears dripped from her eyes. “They destroyed our flowers!”

“And they’re on their way here.” Prince Henry walked in behind her, his face grim. “My men have confirmed it. A shadow monster horde. Larger than anything we have ever seen.”

“Stella?”

He winced at the name. “She’s… leading them. Her magic has converted to dark magic now, but it’s much more powerful than it ever was in the past.”  

To my surprise he fell to his knees in front of me, bowing his head in shame. 

“I’m sorry, Priestess. We brought the enemy right through your doors, claiming her to be the savior. I ignored her willful and selfish ways, spoiled her shamelessly, always thinking she was the one spoke of in the prophecies that would save us all.” His head slowly raised. “But I was wrong.”

I grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. “We all make our own choices, prince. And we will all face our own consequences for them. I won’t hold you accountable for her mistakes.”

“Thank you.”  A small smile flitted across his features. “I almost wish you were from another world. You are definitely someone I could trust with the fate of us all…”

…

I felt my smile stiffen in place as I turned towards Liam who winked at me, frowning back at him. Ignoring him as he broke into laughter, I finally met K’llean’s uncomfortable stare.

“Gather all the warriors, as well as everyone who can use magic.”

“Will we be able to defeat them?” He asked quietly.

“The horde? Definitely. Stella? It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on just how much magic that amulet gave her.”

Taking a deep breath, I headed back towards my home.

“Where are you going?” Liam caught up with me.

“Changing clothes. I refuse to die in my pajamas.”

“…How about not dying at all?!”

I grinned, touching his face. “Of course. I haven’t kept my promise to marry you yet.”

“Belaire.” His voice was serious, catching my attention, forcing me to a halt. He seemed to be struggling to find the words to say, reaching over to pull me into a tight hug. “What if we’re not strong enough to beat them?”

“I’ll find a way.”

“But a life oath would multiply your strength ten times.” My face was pressed against his chest so I couldn’t see his expression, but his voice sounded near tears. “I can’t…”

“Liam.” I pulled back from his hug, reaching out to hold his face between my hands. His eyes widened at the short distance between us. “I won’t betray you.”

“But…”

“No buts.” I leaned forward, kissing him gently on the lips. “Stay by my side.”

“Okay.” Nodding with a helpless smile, we headed back to change.

Despite my confident words however, I felt a growing sense of dread. My mission was to push back the darkness without sacrificing the life of the priestess. It would have been fine if it was the original Dark Lord from the stories, but this was the Chosen One. She had already been powerful before encountering the dark artifact. If I wasn’t strong enough to take on Stella and the amulet alone…

You can’t escape your fate.

I shivered, feeling cold despite the summer’s warmth.

___________________________

“They’re coming.”

I stood at the main gate of the Elven Village, K’llean, Liam and Prince Henry at my side. Behind us were all the elven warriors, the rest of Stella’s party, as well as a few human guards that had come on the prince’s Request. We numbered less than a hundred, a pitiful few compared to the force we were facing.

I smiled at Liam. “Let’s move forward. I’ll keep a ward around the village, while everyone who can fight can try to take out as many monsters as possible.

“Wait.” Prince Henry frowned. “Why not just stay behind your ward if it’s so effective?”

“First, I don’t have infinite magic, and shadow monsters don’t tire like normal creatures. They would still be here long after my ward is down. Second, although it is a very powerful defense, I don’t know how much stronger Stella has gotten.” I gestured to the dark, shadowy forms in the distance. “She’s doing us the favor of sending her army in first, so we need to take the opportunity. If I have to face her and the monsters together…”

The prince grimaced, nodding his head. “Great, just great.”

“Regretting joining with us yet?”

“Give me a minute, I’m trying to find a suitably diplomatic answer.”

I laughed and walked forward, pulling Liam beside me. K’llean called out an order to the warriors behind us, and the elves marched behind, brandishing their weapons. I caught him glancing at me in the corner of my eye, and seeing my attention, he looked away uncomfortably.

“Don’t get hurt.” Mumbling softly, he drew his large sword, checking it over carefully.

“Same.” I closed my eyes briefly, finding my magic source and bringing it to reality. A light-filled dome surrounded the village, closing in behind the warriors that stepped forward. I opened my hand, and a sword made of light magic formed in it. Ready for battle, I watched, my heart racing as the twisted army approached.

One of the lead monsters, a seven foot long centipede-like creature with bright red eyes and large fangs, lifted its head up to the sky and let out a terrifying scream. The surrounding monsters, more than I could count, roared back, and then charged towards our small force.

The fight for survival had begun.

___________________________

I leapt forward, blade raised, slicing off the head of the centipede before slipping between the first line of creatures. Every step I was avoiding an attack, each movement a close brush with death. I struck left and right, leaving most of my technique behind. The monsters were so tightly crowded that even wild swings had a large effect. With each attack of my blade, light magic moved out in waves, burning and destroying the creatures around me.

To my right I could see K’llean, swinging his sword with both hands, taking out multiple creatures at a time with ease. The harsh training he had undergone, working tirelessly day and night to get stronger shined brightly, his movements flawless as he attacked in every direction. He coated his sword in light magic, occasionally sending out beams of it to assist some of the elven warriors who looked overrun.

Even in battle he’s still looking out for them.

Liam hung back, avoiding getting in the way of our light magic attacks. His bow drawn he shot arrows made of dark magic into the crowds. The arrows disintegrated each of the bodies it passed through, a wholly deadly force. It seems like as long as the dark magic is strong enough, it is definitely deadly even to shadow creatures, same element or not.

ROAR!

The angry cry of the creature in front of me brought my attention back to my own fight. Slowly, as I danced in between the monsters, I slipped into a comfortable mentality, one I hadn’t used since coming to this world. This was the me after Liam’s death in the zombie apocalypse. A warrior. Something that only existed to destroy all the monsters around me. I gave myself over to it, fighting on instinct, rampaging through their ranks.

I lost track of the hours, continuing to fight.

“She’s coming!” Violet’s whisper in my ear broke my daze, I sent out a wave of light magic, clearing enough space for our remaining fighters to fall back. As we gathered at the edge of my ward, I took gauge of our losses, feeling a pang as I realized that a quarter of our warriors were gone.

This wouldn’t have happened if I had formed a life oath. I wouldn’t have had to reserve my magic in fear of fighting Stella.

Selfish. Cruel.

Pushing these thoughts back, I had K’llean bring the fighters within the ward and turned back to see the situation.

Hundreds of shadow monster corpses littered the ground, splintered and broken. With my last magical attack the main wave had broken, the monsters fleeing back to hide behind their master who was walking slowly towards us.

Stella.

She looked the same but different. Dark mist surrounded her, moving restlessly along the ground, killing every plant it touched. Her body seemed unreal, as if the edges of her form were pushing against the air, breaking the reality around us. Her eyes glowed a bright red, the light in them pulsing in time to the glowing black jewel hanging around her neck.

She came to a stop a 50 yards away, speaking normally but her voice echoed in my ear as if she were right beside me.

“Belaire. I bet you weren’t expecting me...”

“Hey Stella. Going for a walk?” I smiled as I greeted her nonchalantly. “That’s great! Good for the health, you know, get outside, and breathe in that fresh smell of the rotting corpses of your evil minions.”

“YOU…!” Stella’s face distorted with rage, but I interrupted her swiftly.

“By the way, love the new look! The glowing red eyes really suit you!” I glanced down, grimacing. “Can’t say the same about your accessories, though, your taste in jewelry is just awful.”

“…”

“…”

Prince Henry sighed. “Please don’t antagonize the new Dark Lord before the final battle priestess.”

“What? I’m complimenting her!”

Stella couldn’t stay silent at that. “Shut up! I won’t let you annoy me this time around, elf!”

“Really?” I tilted my head quizzically.   “Cause it sure seems like I’m annoying you.”

“SHUT UP!”

Prince Henry turned to Liam. “Can’t you rein her in a little?”

He shook his head. “No. I like her like this.”

“Don’t bother with them, Henry.” K’llean exited the ward after helping the last of the injured across. Ignoring Stella, he came to stand on the other side of me, shaking his head. “I’ve been trying for years to correct their bad attitudes without success. Something small like the end of the world wouldn’t be near enough to set them right.”

“Ah, I’ll bow to your superior experience then.”

I shrugged at Liam. “Why are they acting like we’re the strange ones?”

“Beats me.”

“STOP IGNORING ME!” Stella’s voice was inhuman, a monstrous roar that echoed through the forest. Her power soared. The skies started turning dark as all the surrounding areas filled with dark magic.

Ooh, that struck a nerve. Looks like becoming the new Dark Lord didn’t rid her of her inferiority complex.

I made sure Liam was out of the way, and then enlarged my ward to protect all of us, pouring as much of my magic as I could into it.

“You think you can beat me now?” Stella laughed excitedly. “You have no idea!” Her magic continued to grow, the trees and grass between us and her completely died as the space condensed with darkness. I felt the pressure against my ward, it bent inwards against the pressure.

The dome of my magic glowed brightly, but I could no longer see beyond it, everything outside my ward was filled with darkness.

She’s… a lot stronger than I was hoping she’d be.

A hand wrapped in dark magic could be seen just outside my ward, the fist coming down to strike it with a large ringing noise. I felt a stabbing pain in my head at the blow, forcing myself to stay focused, to strengthen the ward.

Stella’s eyes shone through the darkness as she stood just outside my protective spell.

“Do you know what wish the amulet granted me?” Her whisper traveled across the space louder than a shout. “My greatest desire was to be strong enough to utterly destroy you.” Her fist slammed against the ward again. I swayed in place.

Crap.

BAM! Her fist struck the ward again, fine cracks appearing at the blow. I hastily repaired them.

Is this really it?

BAM!

All those years of work, of getting stronger, of slowly feeding my life force to grow my magic, and she can be twice as strong with a WISH?!”

BAM!”

I felt a strong rage building within me; a frustration against the world that only gave benefits to the heroine, evil or no.

I hate main characters.

BAM!

“Belaire.” Liam’s pained cry distracted me for a moment. I could barely see through a red haze that was filling my vision, I felt something warm dripping from my nose. I reached up to wipe it with my hand, and it came away bloody.

“You can’t beat her.” His voice was filled with agony, as if he were the one Stella was attacking with her fist.

BAM!

“I can handle it.” I struggled to talk, blood spitting out with the words.  My head was splitting, the pain increasing with every blow.

I have to save everyone from the Dark Lord to finish the mission. If I fail…I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I felt in my heart that it would be worse than death.

But the mission also states I can’t sacrifice my life like the previous priestess did. Given how powerful Stella is now, it would take every ounce of life force I have to beat her.

Is there really no way?

“Belaire.” K’llean sighed stepping in front of me, his face hazy in my blood stained vision. “She’s too strong.”

BAM!

Blood was dripping constantly on the ground, I pressed my hands against my head as if to hold it in.

“Please.” He begged. “Please, form a life oath with me.”

“No.”

“It’s okay if you don’t love me. But if you can’t combine your magic, you’re going to die!”

“…” I shook my head, having a hard time speaking any more.

BAM!

“PLEASE!” He grabbed my face, his  tear-filled eyes the only thing I could see. “Don’t throw your life away! Even if you form the life oath, I’ll let you go with him! I won’t bind you to me, just don’t die!”

All nice sounding words. But he was wrong. A life oath would bind our souls together. For me to leave him would mean tearing his or my soul, like the priestess had suffered in the original story. There was no simple way to untangle a life oath.

But the harsh truth was I didn’t have enough magic to win.

“I could try.” Liam’s defeated tone made my stomach drop, even as I struggled to hold on to my ward. “If I fuel my magic with all of my life energy, I might have enough to win. “

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped, trying to focus through the pain. “I won’t lose you again!”

The look on Liam’s face as he died in my arms in the zombie world was imprinted on my brain, unable to be removed. I missed my chance in the last world. I can’t let him sacrifice himself for me again.

BAM!

“Belaire, please. It’s the only way to save us all.”

Is it?

I felt like everything had slowed to a standstill around me.

Is this the only way? A life bond with K’llean? Is this some sort of twisted destiny I can’t avoid?

Is this my fate?

___________________________

I walked down a path, silk cloth rustling as I moved. The garden around me was beautiful, teeming with life, the heavy scent of flowers hanging in the air.

“Mistress! Please slow down!”  A voice called behind me, but I didn’t turn back.

“I can’t! He’s waiting for me!” My voice was filled with anticipation, excitement.

With love.

“MISTRESS!”

A white blur rushed past me, landing with a crash at my feet. I paused, my feet slowing coming to a stop as I stared down with confusion and growing horror.

A dove?

It had dived into the ground in front of me, landing head first on the stone path. Its neck was bent at a severe angle, clearly broken, its form was still.

Why?

From the ruined mess of flesh that had been its head, blood pooled, far more than could ever be contained within the body of such a small creature. The red liquid condensed, forming letters at my feet.

YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE

“No.” I was whispering, my head pounding, my vision tunneling.

“MISTRESS!” I head one last scream behind me, before I felt my whole body descend into darkness.

___________________________

“No.” 

I spoke out loud, blinking back a memory that had overwhelmed my senses, coming and leaving without warning. “I won’t accept my fate.”

K’llean was crying now, trying to heal me even as I continued to sway on my feet. “Belaire… I know you love him, but magical attributes are an integral part of magic. It cannot be changed.”

Wait.

It can’t be changed?

Isn’t that what we said about the amount of magic? That we are born with a fixed final amount? But I proved that wrong. The priestess proved it wrong in the original story.

Magic can be changed.

It just comes at a price.

I looked up at the sky, laughing with relief.

“Liam.” I called out softly, immediately feeling his hand grasping mine.

“Yes?”

“If I told you there was a way to save everyone, AND stay by my side, but that it would cost you almost everything, would you do it?”

His hand tightened on my own, as he answered without hesitation. “Even if you want my life, its yours.”

BAM!

“I won’t take everything.” I turned around, pushing away K’llean’s hand that was applying healing magic and grabbed Liam’s face, bringing it close to my own. “But we’re not going to live long after this.”

“Belaire!” At K’llean’s shout I turned to look at him

“Get ready to protect the village, my magic won’t work well for wards in a few moments.”

“You…”

“I’m sorry, K’llean.” I smiled. “I’m not a heroine. I’m actually pretty selfish.”

Before he could answer I looked back at Liam and kissed him deeply.

The ward around us disappeared, but K’llean immediately replaced it, his face turning bright white at the strain. He was powerful, but nowhere near my level.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOUR STRUGGLES ARE MEANINGLESS!” Stella screamed as she attacked again. “I AM THE CHOSEN ONE!”

BAM!

We didn’t have much time.

I drew Liam’s magic towards me, our kiss dampening my gasp of pain as I felt it burning even as it just came near my soul. The light and dark attiributes were truly opposites, repelling each other even before they could touch.

But magic could be changed.

I drew from my life force, feeling it quickly drain from me.

Deep inside I felt a panic, an emotion not mine but from the priestess’ remnant.

I’m not sacrificing myself, Priestess. At least not my whole life.

Before I drew too much, I began pulling life energy from Liam as well. The power  within me was bursting at the seems, and I applied it to my magic without hesitation.

One of us had to change to combine. We both needed to be light or dark.

I started changing my magic to dark.

As I used the energy to change the magic within me, I felt the light that shined deep within my soul turn black. My hair which was always a golden blond, turned black at the roots, the color slowly taking over the long locks hanging down my back. It was painful, deeply painful. Not just losing my life force but the changing of something so integral to my existence was pure agony.

Which is why I changed my magic and not Liam’s

Besides, dark magic is a better fit for a villainess like me.

As my magic changed attributes, I quickly began forming a life oath with Liam, our thoughts integrating with each other, saying the words of the oath silently between us.

I trust you with my life, my heart, my magic.

I will walk hand and hand and face all danger with you.

I promise to stay by your side forever, until there is nothing left but dust.

As the last of our magic combined, I whispered out loud. “I love you.”

The life oath was complete.

___________________________

As the magic combined, just as they said, the amount was ten times or more my natural source. Reaching for the unfamiliar dark magic, I stepped outside the barrier, smiling at Stella.

“Hey, Chosen One.”

Her dark magic crumbled around her, being overwhelmed by a much stronger force.

“Turns out you aren’t so special after all.” As her magic was crushed, I lifted her up into the air, separating the amulet from her.

I can give you everything you wanted.

I heard the faintest of whispers from the artifact, before using my dark magic to crush it to pieces. After not being able to leave even the smallest scratch on it when I had tried to destroy it months ago with light magic, the dark magic easily consumed it, seemingly breaking it down from the inside.

“NOOOOOOOO!” I wasn’t sure if it was Stella or the amulet that screamed in pain and anger, but I didn’t care. I walked closer to the heroine, my magic holding her in place. Leaning forward, I whispered in her ear.

“You’re not the only world traveling girl around. And I’m a lot meaner.”

Before she could respond, I reared my arm back and punched her in the face. She fell to the ground unconscious.

I heard cheering behind me, but I ignored it as I placed my hand against her head, using my powers to burn up all traces of her magic. When it was done, I leaned back with a sigh. 

“You’re not going to kill her?”

“Too easy.” I grinned. “The thing she hated most was being unimportant. And now she’s completely powerless.” I stood up, cleaning my hands. “You can have her. Imprison her, cast her out in exile. I don’t care. Just don’t kill her.”

It wasn’t that I was against killing. I had already done plenty of that. But I wasn’t sure what would happen to a story world whose heroine was killed early, even a broken one like her.

Turning around, I stumbled a bit, the loss of life energy and the depletion of my magic making me feel drained. An equally tired but happy looking Liam placed his arm around my waist, supporting me.

“Thanks.” I smiled at him, feeling the comfortable bond of his soul against mine.

Liam placed his forehead against mine. “Anytime.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

I sighed. “I had to use up the majority of our life force. We’ll only be able to live another five or ten years.” Compared to the centuries that the life expectancy of elves normally ran, it was a blink of an eye, but Liam just shrugged, unconcerned.

“Better five years as your husband than hundreds without you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Noted.”

“…” An awkward silence fell as we reached K’llean, who was staring at me with a lost expression.

Finally I smiled sadly at him. “Sorry, K’llean, I won’t be able to be the priestess anymore.”

K’llean stared at my newly darkened hair, nodding slowly.

“Liam and I will get married, and then I think we’ll travel around…”

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” A loud shout interrupted  us, as the elder of the village came out of hiding, glaring at me. “I don’t know how you CORRUPTED your magic, but you will fix it immediately!”

I chuckled. “Sorry, can’t. Even if it wouldn’t literally kill me to change it again, I’m already bonded to Liam here.”

“YOU BLASPHEME YOUR HOLY ROLE!”

“You’re welcome, by the way, for saving the village… and the world.” I shrugged. “But I’m not your priestess anymore, and I don’t feel like sticking around and waiting for you to figure out how to use my newly upgraded magic for your own benefit.”

“You can’t leave! You made oaths to stay and lead us!”

K’llean laughed, but it was a deeply sad sound. “She can leave anytime she wants. Her oath was to stay, lead, guide and protect us for as long as the light magic shines within her.” He smiled at the elder, gesturing at my changed appearance. “As you can well see… it no longer shines. So she’s free.”

“YOU…”

“Just shut up.” Sighing with frustration, K’llean applied magic over the elder’s mouth, as I had done multiple times in the past. I nodded with approval, giving him an awkward smile

“Thanks…”

“Don’t thank me.” He interrupted, no longer meeting my gaze. “You would rather risk everything, giving up the majority of your life span, than choose me.”

“…” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. He was speaking the truth.

His eyes finally met mine, but the pain in them was hard to watch. “It’s better if you both leave sooner than later. The village won’t forgive what you’ve done.”

“… Will you?”

“Forgive you?” He gave a helpless smile, looking up at the sky. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Then I’ll say goodbye, K’llean. I’m glad you were my friend.”

I took Liam’s hand and we walked towards Prince Henry, but behind us I heard a soft whisper.

“Live well, my friends.”

I felt a deep sense of relief and gratefulness. The last of the Priestess’ remaining emotions. I had saved her people, and found my own happiness. I smiled, feeling the last remnant of her faded away.

“Rest in peace, Priestess.”

In front of me formed bright blue words.

100% complete.

**** You have finished the mission! ****

Stay in this world?

YES/NO

I smiled, and for the first time in response to this question, said “Yes.”

Granted.

You will be transported to the next world at the end of your character’s natural life.

I was almost knocked over as Liam knocked into me, grabbing and holding me tightly to his chest, his face desperate.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked confused. “I don’t know. I just felt for a moment that you might leave me, and I was terrified to let you go.”

I grinned, kissing him. “Don’t worry. I’m here to stay.”

___________________________

We lived for eight years together as husband and wife.

Although the life oath was more intimate than any title, Liam insisted that we hold a ceremony in the capital of the human territory. Prince Henry helped him plan it out, and since I was the technical savior of the world, it turned into a rather large party.

Looking at the lavish decorations, the happy faces and magical lights floating in the air like balloons, I felt something within me relax.

I wish the Blood Wolves could have seen this party. Although they would have complained about the lack of explosive balloons and weapons.

The fairies had shown up, dancing in the air and drinking too much wine. Violet became a purple blur as she whizzed over our heads, shouting “Congratulations!”

K’llean was invited, but he never came.

___________________________

After the wedding, Liam and I traveled the world. Exploring dungeons, riding desert creatures, diving into the deepest of the dwarves mines, we tried it all, hand in hand.

One night, as we slept under the stars, a thought occurred to me, and I asked him.

“What do you think you would have done if we never met?”

Liam frowned, holding me tightly against his chest. “We did meet though. We’re married. No take backs!”

“No, I just mean, hypothetically, if you and I never met, what do you think you would have done?” I leaned into his embrace, patting his head comfortingly. It wasn’t as soft as his fur in his wolf form, but I did still like touching his hair.

“It… wouldn’t have ended well.” Liam sighed. “I was already on the brink of completely losing myself. I spent more time as beast than elf. If I hadn’t met you… I think I would have left to get stronger, and eventually come back to destroy them… maybe destroy everything.”

“So if you had run into the woods and say, found the amulet…”

“I would have immediately taken the power it offered.” Liam nuzzled my shoulder. “I’m not a good person, Belaire. Do you regret it?”

Did I marry the original Dark Lord?

I shrugged. “I’m not a good person either, so I think we’re even.”

___________________________

After six years, we ran into Stella again. It was on the streets of an outer human town. We had come back from a monster slaying quest, and had just turned in our spoils for a good profit. As I skipped next to him, happily counting our coins and discussing the lavish meal we would buy with it, I heard an angry shout.

“YOU SHOULD ALL FEAR ME!”

Liam eyes met my own.

“Is that…?” I hesitantly asked.

We both looked over. A disheveled young woman with wide eyes rushed towards a random pedestrian.

“I AM THE CHOSEN ONE! THE SAVIOR OF THE WORLD!” She shook her head, confused. “No…. wait… I’m the DARK LORD! I will destroy you all!”

I stared at her, feeling conflicted.

What are the odds that we’d run into her?I shook my head. Nevermind, she’s the heroine, she runs into everyone.

I hadn’t liked her, in either the original story or this lifetime. But there was no escaping that I had changed her life.

Stella sat down, glaring at the ground. “If it weren’t for that stupid elf priestess, I would be living wonderfully. They’d be pampering me, protecting me... IT’S ALL HER FAULT! I’m going to kill her! Tear her to pieces!”

Well… not gonna lie… that makes me feel a bit better.

Liam was uncomfortably silent for a few moments. “Do you want me to kill her?”

I kissed his cheek, pulling him away. “Thanks for the thought, but she’s not a threat anymore.”

We left her behind, and never saw her again.

___________________________

Years passed, we lived each day side-by-side, happy to be in each other’s company. But all things come to an end, and as we came close to the eight year mark after the defeat of the Dark Lord, I could feel the life energy within me running out.

“Liam.” I held his hand. “I want to go back to the forest.”

He stared at me quietly for a few moments, and then smiled. “Of course.”

When we entered the village, I noticed a few differences. The area was bustling, filled with activity. There were more people from other races, traces of multiple types of magic being used. I walked further in, hand in hand with Liam, staring around in excitement.

“Belaire?” A familiar voice called out, and we both turned to see K’llean standing off to the side, watching us with a complicated expression. Despite the passage of time, he hadn’t aged much, other than a gentle maturity in his eyes.

“K’llean.” I smiled tiredly at him. “We’re home.”

He brought us to a large home in the center or town, one that hadn’t existed when we left eight years ago.

“Is this yours?”

K’llean smiled. “Yeah, it’s mine.”

“How’d you get such nice place?”

“Well…”  Before he could answer fully, the door slammed open and a young warrior elf barged in.

“Elder, that brat the advance class is causing trouble again, can you come yell at him? You’re the only one he’s scared of.” He then noticed Liam’s and my presence. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you had guests… dark magic elves?”

K’llean rubbed his forehead. “T’nial…”

“Do you know Belaire and Liam?” The young elf was too excited to notice K’llean’s warning tone. “They had dark magic too! They saved the world, you know, and they’re from our village!”

“T’NIAL!”

“What? Come on Teach, you act like you don’t talk about them all the time.”

Liam and I grinned. Seeing our expressions, K’llean frowned walking to the door.

“Out. Now.”

“But…”

“Or do you want to take over training the youngest class?”

“I’m heading out now!” With a cheerful wave, T’nial ran out, leaving a slightly awkward silence behind.

“Elder?”

“You talk about us?”

Liam and I asked different questions at the same time.

He sighed in response. “Yes I am the new village elder since the last one died three years ago. No I don’t talk about you all the time.”

We sat down, and K’llean made us some tea. As he poured, he asked quietly. “So what brings you two back? I thought you weren’t planning to come back.”

I leaned back in my chair, smiling at Liam. “We came back to die.”

CRASH!

K’llean’s hands faltered as I spoke, dropping the cup onto the floor, which shattered into multiple pieces. He blinked, staring down at the mess in confusion, and then looked up at me again.

“What did you say?”

“Our life energy is running out.”

“… “ He grabbed another cup, starting to pour tea again. “How long?

“A week, at most.”

He sat down hard, putting his head in his hands. “You really know how to break news, huh?”

“What do you mean? I’m super sensitive!”

Liam started to chuckle, a sound that he quickly disguised as coughs.  I glared at him, causing both K’llean and Liam both lose it and laugh loudly.

After things had calmed down, K’llean sighed. “You two haven’t changed.” Pausing he added. “No… you’re happier than you ever were here.”

“You’ve done well too.” I grinned. “The village is so exciting now.”

“Just a few small changes.” He shrugged. “If we stay mired in our past, we’ll never move forward.”

“…K’llean?”

“Yes?”

“Can we stay here until the end?”

“…” There was a long, tense silence before he finally grinned. “Until the very end.”

There were tears in his eyes, but we  all ignored them.

___________________________

A week passed quickly. I spent time walking the forest with Liam and K’llean, visiting our old training spots, seeing all the new changes with a smile. We argued constantly over trivial memories, none of us mentioned the fights that had truly torn us apart.

My energy ran out first, which didn’t surprise me as I had originally taken more from myself than from Liam. As I rested in bed, feeling the remainder of my life fade. K’llean sat down to say his goodbyes.

He reached out and held my hand. “I‘ll always love you, you know.”

I smiled at him. “I know. I love you too.”

“… just not in the way I wanted.”

“No. But you’re family, whether you want it or not.”

He laughed, gripping my hand as if he was afraid to lose it. “No, I want it.”  Taking a deep breath, he added. “I’m sorry, that I tried to force you two apart.”

“It’s okay, fortunately you’re terrible at being the villain.”

“Fortunately.”

“…”

“… Did I ever have a chance?”

I sighed quietly. “No. It was always him.”

“Well… at least you’re honest.”  He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, his eyes closed to hide his tears. “I’ll go get your husband before he thinks you’re running off with me.”

“K’llean.”

He paused, looking back at me. In his eyes I still saw the shadow of the arrogant boy declaring that he was the strongest elf and would protect everyone. “Yes, Belaire?”

“Live well. Be happy, please.”

“Hmm…” He leaned his head against the doorframe, forcing a smile. “I was fortunate enough in this lifetime to love you. How can I not live well?”

He left, and Liam came by. Skipping the chair by the bed entirely, He laid down next to me, gathering me in his arms.

“Liam, sorry, I have to go first.”

“… You should be sorry. Next time don’t divide things so unevenly.”

We hugged silently for a few minutes, before I finally spoke up, my voice soft.

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be, I’m here.”

“What if I can’t find you in the next world?”

He paused at that. “Even if you don’t, I’ll find you.”

“But you never remember me.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll love you each time we meet.”

I leaned close, kissing his cheek. “Good. Next time, you chase me, courting you is exhausting.”

“I’ll listen, wife.” Liam smiled. “I’ll definitely chase you next time.”

“Don’t forget your promise.” I tucked my head against his chest. “See you in the next world.”

He hugged me tightly. “See you soon.”

I closed my eyes, and in the darkness, bright blue words formed.

CHARACTER LIFE AT END.

TRANSPORTING TO NEXT WORLD…

I felt the brief nothingness between worlds, and almost instantly arrived in the next one. Surprised, I realized I was still lying down, but the soft bed beneath me had been replaced by a hard flat surface.

I opened my eyes, but saw nothing but darkness. Trying to sit up, I immediately hit my head on something hard.

“OUCH!” the sound as I yelled with pain was muffled. Concerned, I reached around, realizing the confined space I was in, Just big enough to hold my body laying flat. As I felt the velvet inner lining around me, I came to a grim realization:

I was in a coffin.

“SON OF A…”

___________________________

K’llean sat up as he saw Liam enter the room, dried tears on his face.

“Is she…”

Liam nodded. “She’s gone.”

He let out a breath he felt he’d been holding all day.

She was gone.

Ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest, he looked up at the dark haired elf. “How much longer until you…?”

Liam shrugged nonchalantly, sitting lazily down on the chair in front of him. “I’ll go in a little bit. No use staying here without her. But you looked like you wanted to talk first.”

K’llean’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so different?” The change after Belaire had passed was striking. He looked the same, his form unchanged, but his eyes…

They were suddenly filled with a sense of deep wisdom, of strong power…

Of horrifying sadness.

Liam smiled. “I only get to remember things at the very end. Kind of a middle finger to me from the universe as I realize just how futile our goal is.” He shook his head. “But you don’t need to know all that. Why don’t you ask the questions you really want to know the answer to?”

“…”

“Come on, don’t be shy, I’m in a bad mood right now, so I’m much more likely to tell you the unpleasant truth than a sweet lie.”

“…Why did she never even consider me?” K’llean threw up his hands. “We met when we were kids, for crying out loud! I know I was little annoying…”

“Very annoying.”

“I know I was very annoying, but I matured, grew strong. I always stayed by her side, supported her, helped her… but she never even thought about loving me the way she did you.” He leaned back with a groan. “I just don’t know why.”

“Well, leaving out the complex discussion of my amnesiac wife being the woman you fell in love with, and how you’re lucky you struck out… the easy explanation is that you already had your chance, and you blew it.”

“I what?”

Liam looked up in the sky, seemingly silently conversing with something. “You owe me.” He muttered out loud, before opening his clenched hand to reveal a small red object. ”Ooh, a red pill, very sci-fi.”  He tossed it to K’llean, who caught it, looking at it uncertainly.

“What is….”

“Swallow it.”  Liam spread out his hands. “It will give you memories that you never should have had. Of this world as it was before my wife fixed it for you.”

Feeling a deep sense of dread, K’llean lifted the pill to his mouth and swallowed it. Immediately it felt that his head was splitting open and he fell to the ground, gagging.

“Oh you can’t throw it up. Knowledge, once you gain it, is yours forever.”  He grinned. “Serves you right.”

K’llean blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the completely different lifetime of memories that he had acquired. “I… married her?”

“Well, not really her. You did grow up with the Priestess. You married her. You betrayed her, and watched her die to save you and your lover.” Liam’s gaze was cold. “Now do you understand? You never had a chance because you already wasted it.”

“No… this isn’t right. Belaire… she never would have taken things so calmly… I could never turn my back on her.”

“On Belaire… no. On the priestess… definitely. You see, in the original, you grew up thinking you were the greatest. And the priestess always just agreed. You were an entitled, selfish brat who had everything, including affection, handed to you, and you thought it was what you were owed.”

“What I was owed…” K’llean winced. “It makes me sound like Stella.”

“Exactly, which is honestly why it’s surprising you hit it off with her so well. I assume it was some main character magic forcing the issue, at least partly.” He leaned forward. “At the end of the day, I don’t think you really loved the Priestess. I think you were fond of her. You saw her as a friend, as a companion. But, she was never as important to you as your happiness.”

“I…”

“My wife on the other hand… She ran circles around you!” He laughed. “No matter how hard you tried, you could never be stronger than her. She worked harder, cared more, and did it all without ever looking your way. You learned from her how to care for others, how to put everyone else before yourself. But you never lost that desire… the desire for family, for that perfect happiness that you sensed was within reach but could never touch.”

Liam stood up. “You went a bit crazy back then… but all protagonists do when the world that used to revolve around them suddenly grows bigger. It seems that you’ve become a good person despite it all, and I applaud you for it.” He started walking back to the room where Belaire had rested.

“Where are you going?”

“To follow my wife. She’s gone to the next world without me, and I can’t let her down.”

K’llean stood up. “What if… what if I followed her… tried to win her over this time?”

“You could.” Liam laughed. “But you wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“It costs too much.”  

“I’m willing to pay any price!”

Liam shook his head. “You know, you’re better than that other asshole that half-heartedly follows her now.  I actually thought you might be him for a quick minute… but you’re too messy in front of her. That guy always has to be the perfect hero, because he thinks that’s what she wants. He refused to sacrifice anything really, so he can’t follow her carefully, he just depends on that damned protagonist luck of his.”

“What are you…?”

“You’d probably be willing to give up your life, your future, even your memories… But what about the village?”

“…”

“What about those kids out there that you’re teaching magic to? What if the cost was all of them as well?”

“…” K’llean hung his head, surprised when Liam patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay. That’s why you’re a hero.” His body started being covered in a black fog. “And why I’m a villain.”

Now in wolf form, the familiar dark blue eyes seemed to be laughing as he disappeared into the room next door.

Stunned, K’llean followed after him, only to see the two lying side by side, no longer breathing.

“You both keep calling yourself villains.” He muttered to himself. “Why can’t I believe it?”

___________________________

Seven hundred years later…

K’llean found the old cave, the one where Liam, Belaire and him used to practice in. His bones creaked as he laid down, looking at the familiar patterns on the stone ceiling.

“I lived a long life, Belaire. I was happy enough I think. Are you proud?”

There was no answer.

He laughed softly, tears forming in his eyes. “I miss you, you know. Even after all these years.”

He rested in silence, counting his breaths, only to be shocked by the formation of bright blue words in front of him. He reached out to touch them, but his hand passed right through them.

“Magic?” He whispered, staring at the words.

Do you plan to reject your fate and follow?

“Follow?” His breath caught. “You mean see Belaire again?”

Yes.

Part of him wanted to shout “yes.” But he remembered that conversation with Liam all those years ago.

“What would it cost?” he asked instead

Paragraph after paragraph filled out in front of him, which he read with increasing horror.

“Liam, you bastard.” He finally whispered. “No wonder you call yourself a villain.”

He sighed, leaning back and covering his eyes with a hand.

Do you plan to reject your fate and follow?

K’llean laughed bitterly to himself. “No.”

You were right, Liam. I wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice that much.

The words disappeared, never to be seen again.

As his breathing slowed, K’llean hummed a old childhood song to himself, dreaming of a day in the forest, when a young elf girl with bright green eyes saved his life with a confident smile.

[makarov-my-beloved]

Watch Dogs: Legion X AmRev

@burgoyned Chapter 3 completed! ^^ Any feedback is welcomed!

Chapter 3: You Are Not Illegal!

André sat at the bar the next day, watching the news unfold on TV. Hanger stood next to him behind the counter, cleaning glassware. Lord Germain appeared on television, announcing his anti-immigration plans which include a travel sanction to several countries. The hacker gripped his shot glass so tightly his knuckles began to go white. Looking out the pub’s window, André chugged his shot. Parliament faced The Earl’s Fortune like a wolf staring down at a sheep. The Big Ben chimed, stating it was noon. Hanger picked up André’s shot glass. “You alright?” he asked his friend. André shook his head. “I have friends who are immigrants and wanted to live here. Now, this happens? Fuck that man,” he growled. Hanger washed the glass in the sink. “Well, we can’t do much now. There is no support for DedSec and Clan Kelley grow more restless on the streets.”

“Clan Kelley? They can kiss my ass,” sneered André as he got up from his spot. Hanger placed a finger on his lips as he points to two Albion workers walking into the pub. André nodded secretly to Hanger before leaving the pub. It was then Bagley phoned him through his earpiece. “Good afternoon Operator. I received intel that there is activity stirring in Lambeth. There is also data that is stored inside a warehouse, but it seems that the warehouse is compromised under Clan Kelley. This could be the first step to clearing DedSec’s name. I’ve marked the location on the map.” André’s phone pinged and the hacker looked at it. A yellow dot showed the warehouse is in Islington & Hackney. “Ok Bagley, appreciate your help. I’ll ping you when I’m done.” Bagley clicked and André hopped onto a motorcycle.

He drove to the Westminster Tube station located near Parliament. Parking the bike outside, André walked down to the station and purchased his ticket at the automated ticket booth. It wasn’t extremely crowded; people stood around talking on their phones, chatted with friends, or browsed the map to find their destination. Leaning against the pillar, André saw two Albion guards in his direction. He began to grow nervous as the two guards drew closer and closer. I’m not afraid but I don’t want to deal with these assholes. Fortunately, for him, the train arrived in time. The train slowed down before coming to a complete stop, and the doors opened. Passengers began exiting the train, hiding André from view. He took this opportunity to board the train as the guards spotted a fight and raced towards the commotion.

The train reached Islington & Hackney around 1:15 pm. Leaving the train, André walked through the security checkpoint where the screen flashed his identification as well as other passengers leaving the station. Walking up a flight of stairs, the hacker took out his phone to look at the map. His destination wasn’t far from his station, so André left the Tube looking for a transport device. Above him, ctOS drones flew around along with Albion fight drones, Parcel Fox delivery drones, and ctOS fighter drones. He spotted a Parcel Fox scooter sitting in the corner. That should do for now. André hopped on the scooter and drove off. It took him 5 minutes to reach the secured warehouse. Bagley ringed in again through his headpiece. “I’m picking up signals inside the building. You’ll need to proceed with caution.” “You got it, Bagley,” replied André as he got off the scooter and slipped on his mask. The Greek Helmet was heavy but not as heavy as André assumed it to be. It didn’t cover his face, but André preferred it not to, as he wants to visualize his surroundings.

The condition of the warehouse is in shambles; broken windows, torn-down doors, paint falling from the walls, graffiti-covered the building. Slipping near an alley, André pulled out his phone. A signal pinged, indicating hackable security cameras. Clicking the one near him, André can see the interior of the warehouse. Clan Kelley members roamed the first floor carrying large automatic rifles. I need to find where the files are hidden. After searching through various cameras, André finally found the camera pointing directly inside the warehouse’s main room. A laptop sat on a table in the middle of the room, surrounded by documents. A ctOS machine is hooked on the middle of the wall on the right of the laptop. A red line from the machine led directly to the front gate of the warehouse, as shown on the phone.

I need to find an entrance into the warehouse. As André proceeded to climb over a brick wall, he overheard commotion coming from the inside of the warehouse. “There he is!” “Get’em!” A static explosion set off on the second floor, creating more chaos. Kelley’s gunmen began rushing towards the second floor to help their comrades. Gunshots popped off at random intervals, yet the scream of a Kelley gunman grew louder as André looked up to see a man fall from the second floor. What is going on? He turned to his phone and hacked into the second-floor camera. From the screen, André saw a mysterious figure running up to each gunman and slam a metal bat onto their heads. Who is that person? André continued watching the fight until the batter finally reached the room where the laptop is located. Oh no. I have to beat him to it!

The mid-day sun hit the glass window, temporarily blinding André yet he rushed into the warehouse from the unguarded back entrance. A yellow ladder sitting on the right side of the first floor led to the second-floor landing. André climbed it and rushed across the balcony. He reached the room only to find the door was unlocked and the figure was already downloading files from the laptop. I’m too late! Picking up a gun from the ground, André shouted, “Stop right there! This is secured by DedSec!” The figure looked up; the gasmask was covered with various colorful paint and a green British pound symbol glowing on the left side of the visor. The figure straight at André. As the hacker approached, he noticed the masked figure’s white T-shirt was stained with blood, including the brown cargo pants and black heel boots. Only under the dim lights was the blood visible on the black leather jacket the man wore.

André stopped breathing for a bit as he cautiously approached the hacker. Looking at the metal bat sitting on the table, the young hacker whispered, “Just hand over the data and I won’t hurt you. I promise.” The man stared at André for a bit before his phone pinged that the data was successfully transferred. Please don’t make this any more difficult than it should be. Time stopped and André felt dizzy. Is this man friend or foe? The man disconnected his phone from the laptop and picked up his metal bat. André took a step back in fear of retaliation and cocked his gun in instinct. “I implore you,” André said again, “Just hand over the data. I’ll drop my weapon see?” He tossed the gun down and kicked it away. The man remained motionless but placed his metal bat down the table. Now we’re getting somewhere. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I now need you to hand the data over. Please trust me. I know you may hate DedSec for whatever reasons. But there are bigger problems out there. Clan Kelley, Albion, Zero Day…they caused the London bombings, not DedSec. Just give me the chance to prove you wrong.”

He wasn’t sure what he said had any effect since he didn’t want to lay an explanation to a random stranger he just met in a dangerous location. André held his breath as the stranger began typing into his phone. Is he going to set off explosives inside this room? Anxiety began to rush over his mind while watching the man continuously type into his phone. After a few minutes, André’s phone pinged to indicate that data transfer is complete. It worked. André smiled at the stranger. “Thank you, sir. I’ll best be on my way-“ The conversation cut off as alarm bells began ringing inside the warehouse. Shit! Clan Kelley is calling for reinforcements! Panicking, André rushed out of the room. From the first floor, Kelley clansmen rushed around looking for the intruders. The earpiece pinged and Bagley spoke. “I was able to process the data you’ve sent. It appears that there is a growing number of underground crimes that include human organ harvesting. Some are victims of the bombings. It all links to Clan Kelley. I’ll give you more details once you’re back.” “Thanks, Bagley. I’ll be there shortly,” André hissed as he hid from one of the clansmen.

The balcony shook as the two men rushed towards the back entrance. It was fortunate it wasn’t guarded as André and the masked man escaped the warehouse by leaping over the brick wall. They ran towards André’s scooter and André hopped onto the driver’s seat. The man set his bat down on his lap while holding onto André for security. Pushing start, the men drove towards the Islington & Hackney Tube station as drones flew past them towards the warehouse. André sighed with relief upon arriving in front of the station. It was packed from the mid-afternoon rush as people are coming home from work. André removed his helmet and shoved it into his satchel. “Hey, thanks for listening to me I appreciate-“ he stopped. The man removed his mask to reveal a very familiar face. A face that once shared laughter at the theatres, cried when emotions ran too high and smiled at a joyous conversation. “Oh my word, Sir Henry Clinton I-“ Clinton held his hand up. “Reunion later. We’ll need to head back first.”

André was beside himself in tears as he hugged his friend. “I’m so happy to see you again,” he sobbed into Clinton’s shoulder. Patting the young hacker on the back, Clinton whispered, “And I am too. It has been years.” “It has been,” sobbed André as he wiped tears from his face. Indeed, their reunion was cut short by the sound of two men approaching them. “Good afternoon sirs. We’re here for a random inspection. We’ll need to search your bags,” gruffed one of the Albion guards. “Sure look here,” Clinton motioned towards André who pulled out his satchel. The two guards looked at each other before one of them proceeded to look down the bag. Suddenly, Clinton swung his metal bat down on the guard’s exposed neck, killing him. “RUN!” he shouted. The men ran down the stairs while the second Albion guard called for backup. Pushing through the crowd, Clinton and André jumped into the train right as the door closed. Breathing heavily, André punched Clinton’s shoulder. “Back to the old times?” “You bet,” Clinton breathed as he clenched onto a metal bar for support. André collapsed onto the seat. Euphoric sensation took over him; he couldn’t stop smiling at his friend. DedSec mission complete!

[incomingalbatross]

Hello I’m going to write an entire post about Shawn and Henry’s first scene together. Because there’s A LOT.

...There was even more of a lot than I expected. This is long and rambly enough to qualify for readmore status.

Technically comes before this scene, but: Henry’s been back in Santa Barbara for over a year, and apparently Gus didn’t even know? Like, I’m not too surprised Shawn didn’t, but the idea that Henry knowingly lived in the same town as Gus for over a year and had zero contact with him... That hurts

ALSO. The fact that one of Shawn’s first mentions of his dad turns into him sounding like he’s faking their relation because he doesn’t know basic facts like “where he lives”? That also hurts!! Way to show the rift!!

Okay, now I’m talking about this scene.

FIRST: The fact that Shawn’s certain that justice has not been done in this case, but no one’s listening and he doesn’t know how to solve it alone... And so he goes to his dad. Because apparently the fact that “Dad Is The Best Cop” (both in abilities and values) is engraved into his brain, and when he needs help pursuing justice he’ll go to Henry. Even in the pilot

>> (Though I shouldn’t discount the effect of suddenly learning “oh I’m actually within driving distance of Dad? for the first time in years and years?? it would be THAT EASY to just? go home??” Cause that was probably a thing)

That moment when Henry opens the door. Let me just replay that a few times...

>> The way he freezes the instant he sees Shawn

>> Shawn can’t talk for a second. He plays it off well, but you can see him trying and...not talking

>> “Hi Dad.” “Shawn.” --Henry’s not exactly giving him a Prodigal Son welcome, but it’s not confrontational either. It’s... careful. But you can see him smile a little at his son

And then they IMMEDIATELY move back into rehashing their old fights. The divorce, Shawn running away... Though it’s interesting that Shawn says “You didn’t tell me you moved back” as if A) Henry had a way to contact him and B) Shawn thinks he was entitled to that information

>> (There may be relevant details about Shawn’s Years Away in later eps. There probably are. I haven’t watched Psych in a while)

“Can I come in?” “No.” OUCH. Now, Henry was on his way out, as he says when he invites Shawn to join him (and if I noticed him putting his jacket on, so did Shawn), but that’s still a very clear barrier. Henry would rather continue to a neutral ground than let Shawn inside at this point

“You can come with me, if you don’t bring this thing” *glances disdainfully at motorcycle* And HERE, ladies and gentlemen, we have Exhibit A of “Henry Spencer’s fear for his son manifesting as disdain for his life choices”!!

We quickly gather more examples, however... which is KINDA FAIR, if the opposite of constructive, because Shawn’s new plan? Opens him up to criminal charges and mortal peril. Henry must’ve felt so much dread at this new level of Bad Idea from his son

Of course, from Shawn’s perspective, his dad is throwing barbed attacks at this when it should be making him... if not proud, at least closer to it than any of Shawn’s ideas so far! He’s trying to catch bad guys! He’s using his “special gift” the way his dad always wanted!

>> (AND he’s genuinely committed to this, at least for this case, because it’s awakened his strong-if-erratic sense of justice. And he wants his dad to validate that, which he... does not)

Then we get “If you’re so good, why’d you come to me?” “I’m not... *scoffs* asking for your help.” “...” “...Okay.”

Just... the way Shawn transitions into talking through the case shows they’ve done this, a thousand times, before

And then Henry goads him into the Hat Game... but honestly? I don’t think Shawn was bothered by that

>> His reaction to “Close your eyes,” when he put it together, was to laugh... and maybe I’m just reading him wrong, but that didn’t actually look like an angry laugh

>> He puts up a protest, but not much of one--”No way, I’m not seven”--and actually closes his eyes before he verbally agrees

>> Then he immediately moves into rules-lawyering and showing off--and unlike most of his exchanges with Henry here, there’s no obvious venom in his disputes. This is practically normal Shawn Bragging here

In addition, Henry himself still loves watching him work. ...Though his smile may also be due to the fact that this game is the most unguarded and Shawn that his son’s been this whole time

Conclusion: While Henry was checking Shawn’s skills, this was also an attempt to call back the better parts of their relationship... and succeeded, calming them both and easing the tension significantly

Side note: proof here that the fingers-to-temples move is not part of Shawn’s psychic act, but a genuine concentration tool

Henry throws in more disapproval of Shawn’s Entire Life at the end, but also gives him the Sage Tip he needs to solve the case, indirectly honoring their deal and (implicitly) supporting him

>> Another side note: Henry is Shawn’s Mycroft and I love that

And then he sticks him with the check. Which...is a power move, especially since this is Shawn we’re talking about, but I feel like there’s a lot you could read into that? I can’t think of anything which isn’t over-analyzing, though, so I’ll leave that

LAST side note: There’s a bit when Henry’s messing with him over the rules, and pats Shawn on the cheek with the check... And they don’t even actually make direct physical contact but it’s still probably the closest they’ve come since Shawn was eighteen?? Why would you do this to us

...This may take longer to read than the scene takes to actually watch. But I had Thoughts and now they are expressed.

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

1. my usual due diligence b/c some deeply programmed part of my brain can't not cite my sources::

are you interested in reading some secondary source material about the civic government of a medieval city?* or a primary source document listing the personal expenses of Henry VIII between 1529-1532, a line item of which i copied and modified for this chapter? well now u can i guess, go for it.

 *(there's like no easily accessible canon info about what Rivia (the city, not the kingdom or the castle) is like, but after some side reading about other medieval cities it seemed like it should be roughly the size of York vs the size of London or Paris, which were the capitols of much more important kingdoms to irl western Europe than Lyria and Rivia seem to have been to northern Fake Europe. i mean, before Meve more or less single handedly fucked up an entire invasion force and yeeted herself into international fame obviously.)

2. i posted a short scene i cut from this chapter here. 

 ---- 

  7.

    In the days leading up to the fair, a veritable army of men in armor descended on the castle and town surrounding it, spending a mint of money and tearing up the grass of the green outside the wall with ceaseless practices and a few very real fights. The Baroness, who had graciously accepted the Queen’s invitation, became a semi-permanent fixture beside the hastily erected fence surrounding the field. Despite the cold, she spent the short daylight hours observing and offering opinions and guidance. Gascon arrived with a retinue of familiar-looking rogues that drew a dark frown from Reynard and threw himself happily into the endless clashes. The Baroness watched him for most of an afternoon, then in the evening delivered a detailed lecture indicating how and where his technique could be improved, which he cheerily took to heart. The result, according to his tutor, was that he progressed, somewhat, from a reasonable amateur to something like a professional.

     Meve managed to keep her company often enough to hear many of her opinions. She noted bad habits and technical errors in almost all of Meve’s serving knights, with few exceptions; of Sir Odo, she only remarked casually that he yet showed no sign of losing a step, age or prior injuries be damned. She made the unusually enthusiastic comment within earshot of its subject as he offered advice to a young knight he’d unseated; he appeared slightly surprised and rode over, eyebrows raised.

    “Was that a compliment, my lady?” he asked, looming over the two women where they stood by the fence.

    “Would you like it to be?” the Baroness replied, giving no sign either way.

    “Why not?” he said, matching her tone, bowed courteously in his saddle, slammed his visor down, and rode away. Meve stared distractedly after him.

    “He’ll be an early contender for the prize, I believe,” the Baroness remarked.

    “Well, he’s certainly my favorite,” she replied, airily.

    “And doesn’t he know it,” the older woman muttered, then added, “That man has a target on his back.”

    Meve returned to earth and turned an inquiring frown on her.

    “Look,” the older woman explained, waving a hand to indicate the field at large. “There’s not less than two dozen knights here, and squires besides, as well as more than a few fighters who are neither. Some are no doubt here for the prizes, and some for th’ entertainment value, and others to catch a woman’s eye, but, no matter what their reasons, every man among them would very much like to defeat the Queen’s champion, make no mistake.”      

    The Baroness paused significantly, clearly waiting for her to see a point. Meve, aware that even Reynard lost a match, on occasion, failed to arrive at whatever it was; she shrugged dismissively and said, “Yes, and?”

    “And, therefore, don’t leave his equipment unguarded overnight, or his horse,” she explained impatiently, with a slight eye roll; she added, as an afterthought, “Your Grace.”

    “Oh.”

      After dinner she stared contemplatively into the fire, paying no attention to Reynard and Gascon’s idle chatter nearby. The Baroness’s suggestion - or was it a warning? - weighed on her thoughts. So did the fact that she had yet to find a third judge; a difficult prospect, as whoever she picked might not suit, or, worse, might be inclined to see political significance where there was none. Further, she hadn’t seen the black knight, or even heard anything of him, in well over a week; it was arguably the least of her problems, but bothered her nevertheless. She was jolted out of her reverie only when Reynard shook her suddenly by the shoulder; she frowned distractedly at him, realized he had asked her something, and said, “What?”

    “What are you thinking about?” he repeated, patiently. Gascon stared glassily at her, an expectant smile on his face. She explained about the judge, in brief, expecting their conversation to then go on without concerning itself with the matter.

    “But why d’ you need three judges?” Gascon wondered, instead, slurring his words somewhat.

    “Because there are always three judges,” Reynard replied stiffly, evidently less than perfectly sober himself.

    “The third judge is necessary, I’m afraid,” Meve explained. “A tiebreaker.”

    “Oh,” said Gascon, “I see. Well, what I would do is just get Gaspar or someone t’ do it, and say good enough; I suppose it doesn’t truly matter who does the job, in th’ end.”

    “The joust is serious business,” Reynard said, growing somewhat haughty, “You can’t just appoint some ruffian who can’t talk as an official.”

    “No,” Meve said, soothingly, before Gascon could react, “I don’t think he would do, at all, not to worry. However, Gascon’s drunken rambling has given me a thought - I don’t really have to choose the third judge myself.”

    “What do you mean by that?” Reynard asked, suspiciously.

    “Never you mind,” she said, casually, “You’ll find out soon enough. Anyway - I meant to ask you, Gascon, for a favor.”

    “By all means,” he replied, cheerily.

     “I need you to assign some of your more reliable and sober men to keep an eye on Reynard’s harness, weapons, and above all his horse, until the fair.”

    “Why?” Reynard asked; Meve ignored him, temporarily. Gascon, on the other hand, seemed to immediately understand, and nodded his agreement.

    “Oh, yes, naturally, you do,” he said. “I’ll put my best people on it, not t’ worry.”

    “Thank you,” she said, and then explained herself to Reynard after Gascon departed to see to the matter. He frowned doubtfully and began, “I really don’t think it’s necessary to -”

    “I know you don’t,” she interrupted, a little curtly, “It’s why I didn’t ask you.”

    He fell into a slightly disgruntled silence, obviously offended; she immediately regretted her tone, blamed it on the late hour, and delivered a genuine apology, which he graciously accepted, as he always did.

      At ten the next morning, she attended a meeting with the bailiff, aldermen, and Mayor of the city outside her castle walls. The Mayor was an ancient man who’d been installed in his position some years before she was born, and would not be hurried as he explained, at length, the procedures and trials of the next few days. She half-listened to his speech, delivered in the same didactic voice as always, and to the discourse that followed, well aware of the various topics that would be covered, as they were exactly the same each year for each fair - roadblocks, fire brigades, the necessity to have extra guards at night, the necessity to have yet further guards to keep the visitors out of the stockyard and away from the docks, the vanishingly small probability of snow. The Queen sat, patiently chiming in on the usual occasions to promise a detachment of soldiers from the castle and to offer the use of the stables in the courtyard, if needed, but otherwise waiting in silence for the meeting to wind to a close. There was, she knew from experience, no speeding up the unvarying process, and it was easiest to try; at the end, however, when the Mayor, as always, asked for any final remarks, she said, “I’ve one, gentlemen.”

    The room turned as one to stare at her in collective astonishment; she had never shown the slightest desire to lengthen any meeting in the past, and the atmosphere grew wary and uncertain at the irregularity. She smiled at them, professionally, and continued, “I have a small request only: the jousting event that’s bringing you so much custom this year requires three judges, but I find myself with only two; I thought perhaps you could select the last yourselves and then send ‘em along to the castle this afternoon.”

    She was assured that the thing was in their power to grant and departed in secret amusement, leaving the disturbed city government in full knowledge that, so long as she ruled in Lyria and Rivia, the troubling moment would never be forgotten.

      The city council sent along their choice - a round, dark-haired young woman - some hours later. She received a very dubious look from Reynard when Ethan brought her into his little office, where he sat in consultation with the Queen. Her name was Giselle, she said, and she knew nothing whatsoever about jousting - although, of course, she’d seen many a brawl, because she was a barmaid at the largest public house in the town square; she was just lately seventeen, but had been employed there since she was ten, and fights were expected and even wagered on should the combatants be interesting enough. Meve was, for once, grateful for Reynard’s unyielding sense of propriety; he grew steadily more unapproachable, but said absolutely nothing as the girl finished her introduction and subsided into silence, casting an uneasy glance at his remote frown.

    “Well,” Meve said, pleasantly, “It’s no matter; the finer details of the sport are easy enough to learn. I’m not going to force you, if you’d rather not, but should you like to be a judge tomorrow along with myself and the Baroness, you’re quite welcome.”

    Giselle’s face lit up; she replied quickly, “Oh, yes, I’d love to, my lady.” Meve nodded, satisfied.

    “Well, then, Ethan there will explain the rules and answer any questions you have; you may go along with him,” she said. Ethan promptly turned a brilliant shade of red as Giselle turned a broad smile on him. Meve drew on decades of diplomatic experience and managed to maintain a straight face as the pair attempted to make their escape from the overcrowded office, briefly became jammed together in the doorway, and awkwardly negotiated their way out, one after the other.

    “Gods preserve us,” Reynard muttered, rubbing his forehead painfully, the moment the door finally shut behind them. Meve snorted a laugh at last, perched on the edge of his desk, and said, “She’ll do nicely, I think; seems game enough, given the circumstances.”

    He shook his head at her and asked, wearily, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

    “It is a holiday. However, those guard patrols for the town must be arranged, and I still have to review my steward’s reports -”

    “I’ll bring the reports as well as a bottle, then,” Reynard decided, making for the door; she caught his arm as he passed, kissed him, and pulled away a long moment later to stare into his eyes. He blinked down at her, apparently struck as speechless as his squire, until she released him and said, “Go on, then; I’ll be here.”

    “Actually, I’m not thirsty after all,” he said, not moving away. She flashed a smile, slid her arms around his neck, and didn’t argue.

      Reynard did arrange the patrols, eventually, but Meve was forced to put the paperwork off; there was a feast to attend, and she had no time to read accounts before it began. It had to be held in the courtyard under the moonlight, because the entire city was invited and most of it’s more upstanding citizens had actually turned up, and, on top of them, all the knights and their horde of attendants; the resulting crowd would never fit inside the great hall. Even her usual courtiers had trouble maintaining stiff decorum in the open air, by blazing fires and with an astonishing amount of food and drink in them. The Queen herself sat at a table with the Baroness and Count Odo; the Count was companionably silent as usual, and so Meve passed the time chatting mainly with the Baroness. The women waved off occasional requests to dance in favor of a detailed discussion of feats of arms they’d witnessed during tournaments and battles, until, unexpectedly, Sir Holt advanced on them out of the crowd. The Baroness immediately paused, mid-sentence, and stared him down; he did not appear to notice her pointed, but wordless, dismissal. Reynard stiffened slightly in his seat, eyes narrowing. Meve sighed quietly; she of course knew the red knight was in attendance, because she’d spotted Gaheris out in the lists the previous afternoon, but had thought he’d have had the sense to avoid her.

    However, all the red knight said to her was a polite greeting and a remark on the success of the evening, so far. She nodded at him in acknowledgment; he then turned to Reynard and said, “Count Odo - I look forward to our rematch, tomorrow.”

    “Do you, now?” the Count replied, coldly; then, his conscience apparently made uneasy by his own rudeness, added, “As do I, Sir Holt; best of luck to you, when the time comes.”

    “And to you, my lord,” the red knight said, glanced uncertainly at the condescending Baroness, and retreated without further comment. Meve glanced sideways at the Count’s distant frown and nodded to him resignedly. He needed no further invitation to quit the field, and, for some reason, the remainder of the event seemed to go on with a shade of awkwardness in his absence; her renewed conversation with the Baroness felt somewhat stilted, and the din of the crowd around them oppressive. The feast eventually ended with an inevitable speech by the Mayor, which not a soul attended to; the locals had heard it before and the visitors seemed to be unsure who it was that was lecturing them. The Queen then delivered some much briefer remarks, as expected, which received the crowd’s full concentration, dismissed them to their own devices, and departed.

      An hour later, she was safely in her own private office, puzzling over a line item in her steward’s report: paied to Sir Roger Eres knight upon a bille of Sir John Kimborne knight 153 g., when someone came thundering up the stairs and burst suddenly through the door. Reynard jerked awake in his chair by the fire, alarmed at the noise, saw what had made it, and settled again with a quiet, relieved, sigh. She herself had turned a savage glare on the intruder, but subsided when it only proved to be Gascon, reeking of liquor and panting slightly.

    “It’s late, Brossard. What do you want?” Meve asked, looking back down at her papers. She sat back with a quick, irritated, frown as the Duke strode over, slapped a wide leather strap down on top of them, and demanded, “Look at this.”

    “It’s a girth, from a saddle,” she said, glancing from it to him with a raised eyebrow.

    “Yes,” Gascon agreed, despite her warning expression. Reynard stood with a faint groan, walked over, glanced at it, and said, “Isn’t that one of mine? What’s this about?”

    “Look there, by the buckle,” Gascon said, impatiently, pointing. Meve eyed the area and spotted what appeared to be a wrinkle or crack in the leather; she picked it up to study it more closely, and finally looked back up at the Duke, scowling.

    “It looks as if someone cut it most of the way through,” she said. “And then, what? Glued it back together? A damn good job, too; would never have noticed it, myself, if you didn’t point it out.”

    “It would likely snap th’ instant it took a hard shock,” Reynard added, taking the girth and turning it over thoughtfully. “But when someone might’ve done it, I don’t know. I used this just yesterday, practicing against Roland Orlac; you were there, Meve.”

    “Perhaps they did it days ago, and it was just luck that kept it from breaking, then,” Gascon suggested, shrugging. “Or it could have been yesterday afternoon, before Pug and Gaspar started looking after your things.”  

    Meve swore angrily, already forming a long list of suspects: disgruntled barons, unscrupulous competitors, foreign saboteurs, domestic anarchists. Reynard sighed in weary agreement with her.

    “Well, annoying as this is, it’s not my first overly bitter rival, I suppose. I’ve survived th’ others; this will be no different,” he said, pragmatically.

    “Yes, well, regardless, it’ll be your last. Find out who did this, Gascon,” the Queen said. “I take attempts to sabotage my General’s equipment very personally.”

    “I’ll do what I can,” he assured, grimly.

[pikam10919]

Where Can I Take My Dog? To The Beach?

It is hard to imagine many places a dog is happier than at a beach. Whether running around on the sand, jumping in the water, digging a hole or just lying in the sun, every dog deserves a day at the beach. But all too often dog owners stopping at a sandy stretch of beach are met with signs designed to make hearts - human and canine alike - droop: NO DOGS ON BEACH. Below is a quick traveling tour of America's beaches with each state ranked from the most dog-friendly (****) to the worst (*). https://namingyourdog.weebly.com/blog/selecting-memorable-dog-names

DOGS ON ATLANTIC OCEAN BEACHES (traveling North to South)

The rocky coast of Maine (***) is mesmerizing to look at but doesn't leave much room for sandy beaches. Dogs are generally banned from the beaches at the many small state parks along the Maine coast, but dog owners will find more friendly sands on the town beaches. Around Portland, the state's biggest city, and the tourist towns of the Southern Coast dogs are often allowed on the beach anytime Labor Day to Memorial Day and in the mornings and evenings during the summer. The spectacular Acadia National Park is one of America's most dog-friendly national parks but does not allow dogs on its beaches.

It is lucky for dog lovers that New Hampshire (*) has only 18 miles of coastline. State beaches and parks don't allow dogs on the sand at all. If you must stop in New Hampshire, try the Grand Island Common in New Castle or Foss Beach in Rye during the off-season from October to late May.

Around Boston, the beaches of the North Shore are off-limits to dogs during the summer but other towns in Massachusetts (****) are more generous - dogs are usually allowed year-round with restrictive hours in the summer. Cape Cod, however, is the best destination for beach-loving dogs in New England. Cape Cod National Seashore, America's first national seashore, allows dogs on the beach anytime outside the swimming areas (and not on the trails). The curviture of the Cape limits sightlines down the beach and gives the park the impression of being comprised of a series of dune-backed private coves. The two tourist islands off southern Cape Cod, Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, are both extremely dog- friendly - on Nantucket, dogs can even take the shuttle to the beach.

The beaches of Rhode Island (**) are kept dog-free during the summer but if you take the ferry to Block Island, dogs can enjoy the black sand beaches throughout the year. In Newport, you can take your dog on the fabled Cliff Walk (poop bags are provided at the trailhead) through the backyards of America's rich and famous. The hike begins at Bailey's Beach, which welcomes dogs from Labor Day to Memorial Day.

The sandy beaches of Connecticut (*) are not known for being dog-friendly. But many aren't that friendly to people either, with restricted access being common. If your dog is hankering to try the benign waves of the Long Island Sound, stop in Groton. Dogs are not allowed to experience America's most famous beach at Coney Island in Brooklyn.

The further east you go out on Long Island the more dog-friendly New York (**) becomes but whether on the north shore or south shore you can find a place to get your dog to the sea. Dog owners must pass on the prime destinations at Jones Beach and Fire Island National Seashore until reaching the Hamptons, where the tails of surf-loving dogs will start wagging. Many towns in the Hamptons offer dog- friendly sand and at Montauk, on the very tip of Long Island, several beaches allow dogs year-round, including Gin Beach on the Block Island Sound. The wide, white- sand beaches of the Jersey shore are some of America's most popular and there isn't much space for a dog to squeeze into in the summertime.

Most of the beaches in New Jersey (***), including the Sandy Hook Unit of the Gateway National Recreation Area, open to dogs in the off-season. Summertime visitors should take their dogs to Island Beach State Park, one of the last undeveloped stretches at the Jersey Shore. Pets are allowed on the non-recreational beaches in this ten-mile oasis. Dogs will never get to trot down the historic wooden planks of the Atlantic City boardwalk, however - no dogs are permitted on the beach or boardwalk of the Grande Dame of America's seaside resorts. Dogs are also not allowed anywhere in the Victorian village of Cape May but dog lovers can travel south of town to Sunset Beach, a sand strip at the southernmost point of the Jersey shore that is actually on the Delaware Bay. In the water offshore of "Dog Beach" are the remains of the Atlantis, a unique concrete ship built to transport soldiers in World War I.

Off-season, the sandy beaches in Delaware (****) are a paradise for dogs. Two state parks, Cape Henlopen and Delaware Seashore, both welcome dogs between October 1 and May 1. During the summer season dogs can also share the beach with their owners on select stretches of sand in Delaware state parks. In Cape Henlopen, the 80-foot high Great Dune is the highest sand pile on the Atlantic shore between Cape Cod and Cape Hatteras. The concrete observation towers standing as silent sentinels along Delaware beaches were built to bolster America's coastal defenses during World War II. Summer vacationers can take dogs on the Dewey Beach town beach in the mornings and evenings. Along the Delaware Bay just north of Cape Henlopen you can find several beaches that offer frisky wave action and wide swaths of sandy beach - and best of all there are no restrictions against dogs on the bay beaches.

The Assateague Island National Seashore is the prime destination for dog owners heading for the beach in Maryland (***). The undeveloped dunesland permits dogs year-round on the beach and in the campgrounds (but not on the short nature trails). Keep your dog alert for the wild ponies that live on the island. Its neighbor to the north, Assateague State Park, often celebrated as one of the best state parks in America, is off-limits to dogs. If you are not roughing it on your trip to the Maryland seashore, nearby Ocean City allows dogs on the beach and boardwalk between October 1 and May 1. Traveling along the Chesapeake Bay, dogs are banned from the thin beaches in Maryland state parks. Exceptions are the small beach in the former amusement park at North Point State Park and the beach north of the causeway at Point Lookout State Park.

There is plenty to like for beach-loving dogs in Virginia (***). Canine romps on the clean, wide sands of Virginia Beach's "Strip," the commercial oceanfront from 1st Street to 40th Street, can't begin until the day after Labor Day but during the summer dogs are allowed on residential beaches above 41st Street before 10 a.m and afer 6 p.m. Dogs can jump in the ocean anytime at Cape Henry on Fort Story, where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Chesapeake Bay. Fort Story is an active military base, the only installation devoted to coastal operations, but its uncrowded, pristine beaches are open to the public and dogs. Just to the west is First Landing State Park, where canine swimming is allowed on unguarded sandy beaches. Check for seasonal restrictions against dogs in these places. Just off-shore are views of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, one of the seven modern engineering marvels of the world. Each span of the 17.6-mile crossing utilizes more than 2,500 concrete piles to support the trestles.

Except for designated wildlife areas, dogs are permitted on the beach year-round virtually everywhere on the Outer Banks in North Carolina (****). Cape Hatteras Natonal Seashore has only four swimming beaches (in season) on its entire 70 miles of protected coastline which leaves plenty of open sand for the dog to roam. Seafaring dogs can reach Ocracoke Island and Cape Lookout National Seashore by ferry or private boat for many miles of more undeveloped, dog-friendly beaches. The northern part of the barrier islands has been rapidly developing in the past decade but where you can still find access to the beach, unleashed dogs are sill allowed year-round in towns like Duck and Corolla. Mainland North Carolina beaches on Cape Fear are almost as dog-friendly; most swimming beaches restrict dogs only during the day in the summer.

South Carolina (****) ranks among the most dog-friendly beach states on the Atlantic seaboard. Get away from the people and commercial beaches and there is plenty of unrestricted sand for dogs in the Palmetto state. Most of the smaller towns allow dogs on the beach under voice control and only Myrtle Beach (from 21st Avenue North to 13th Avenue South) bans dogs completely. One of the best places to take dogs here is Hunting Island State Park. More than one million visitors (human) come here each year, 85 miles south of Charleston, to enjoy three miles of unspoiled beach.

Georgia (**) doesn't sport much coastline and many of the beaches on Georgia's barrier islands and the Golden Isles are under control of resorts and most welcome dogs except during the middle of the day in summer. Cumberland Island National Seashore permits dogs but is accessible only by private boat. Savannah's beach at Tybee Island is closed to dogs.

Florida (*) ranks among the most dog-unfriendly of states. Entire counties and regions ban dogs from the beach. There are so many prohibitions already against dogs on Florida beaches that when they change, it is typically in favor of dog owners. For the Atlantic beaches, the northeast part of the state around Jacksonville (Amelia Island) offers some of the best beaches for dogs in the state but heading south below Daytona, dogs are almost universally banned from the sand. Jupiter, on the Treasure Coast, is one place you can find a break from the ubiquitous NO DOGS ON BEACH signs. Fort Lauderdale has thrown dog owners a tiny bone - they have set up a 100-yard long Dog Beach (at Sunrise and A1A) on Saturdays and Sundays only from 3:00 to 6:00 p.m.

DOGS ON GULF OF MEXICO BEACHES (traveling East to West)

The Gulf Coast beaches in Florida (*) offer precious little for dog owners. Dogs were once associated as closely with the Florida Keys as conch shells but today you have to look hard for a beach to take your dog. Anne's Beach in Lower Matecumbe and Sombrero Beach in Marathon are two safe places. In Key West the "Dog Beach" is at Waddell and Vernon avenues but there is really just enough sand to accommodate one good beach blanket and the little amount of swimming available is treacherous over coral outcroppings. On the Suncoast, seek out Bonita Beach Dog Park north of Naples, the excellent Fort DeSoto Dog Beach and Park in St. Petersburg and the Dog Beach on Honeymoon Island in the Dunedin area. Head for Franklin County, though, where dogs are allowed on all the public beaches - and the only county in Florida to allow dogs to run free. On the Florida Panhandle the Gulf Islands National Seashore is the only national seashore that bans dogs completely. It is the same story in town after town on the Gulf of Mexico across Florida. Near Panama City, dogs can reach the water on Carrabelle Beach and Bruce Beach. At Saint Andrews State Beach, a past winner of "The Best Beach In America," dogs can hike the sandy nature trails and run on the beach of the Grand Lagoon. It isn't actually the Gulf of Mexico or the Best Beach In America, but you can them from here.

For dog owners, Alabama (*) may as well not even have the few beaches it does on the Gulf of Mexico.

In Mississippi (**) dog owners need to stay on the western coast in Hancock County; dogs aren't allowed around the populated Biloxi beaches.

People don't seek out Louisiana (*) for its sandy beaches; most of the coastline is made up of bayous. Grand Isle State Park is the only state park with access to the Gulf of Mexico and dogs are allowed in non-swimming areas here.

In Texas (***), Padre Island is America's longest barrier island and there is plenty of room for dogs on its 113 miles of sand. At Padre Island National Seashore dogs are allowed anywhere except on the deck at Malaquite Beach and in front of the Visitor Center at the Swimming Beach. Galveston Island serves up another 32 miles of mostly dog-friendly beach.

DOGS ON PACIFIC OCEAN BEACHES (traveling North to South)

Dogs on leash are allowed in all Washington (***) state parks, often on the beach, but not in many swimming areas around Puget Sound. No dogs are allowed on beaches in the city of Seattle. The uncrowded Pacific Coast beaches are some of the dog-friendliest in America - even Olympic National Park, which bans dogs from almost all of its 632,324 acres, opens some of its remote coastal beaches to dogs. Dogs are allowed on almost all beaches on the Washington coast as long as they remain out of the active swimming areas.

All of the beaches in Oregon (****) are public. You can step on every grain of Oregon sand for 400 miles and, in the rare exception of a ban due to nesting birds, your dog can be with you all the way. One beach dog owners won't want to miss is the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area with its 40 miles of sandy shore. These are the biggest dunes in the United States - as tall as 500 feet and reaching two and one-half miles inland at their widest point.

Northern California (****) would get plenty of votes from beach-loving dogs for having the best beaches in America. Only a beach here and there restricts dogs from its sand on the North Coast. Even in the highly populated areas, concessions are made for dog owners. In Marin County a "Dog Beach" has been set aside on the north end of Stinson Beach and many towns allow dogs on the beach under voice control. San Francisco ranks among the dog-friendliest of beach cities. Take your dog to the Golden Gate National Recreation Area and have your pick of several designated dog-friendly beach areas. At Baker Beach, dogs are allowed to romp off- leash. Further down the coast, dog owners will want to visit the Monterey Peninsula. Dogs are welcome to run on the Carmel City Beach and can slip into the water near Monterey and Pacific Grove as well. At Big Sur dogs can enjoy one of the prettiest secluded beaches on the coast a Pfeiffer Beach. Skip Santa Cruz and there are plenty of opportunites to get your dog on the sand in California's Central Coast, especially on unnamed beaches.

Heading south on the California coast the water warms up and beach restrictions on dogs increase accordingly. There is still sand time for dogs in Oxnard and Ventura but things are getting bleak as dog owners reach Santa Barbara. In Los Angeles County the beaches are for people. In Southern California (**), San Diego is the place for sand-loving dogs. Several popular beaches have set aside "dog beaches" that attract hundreds of dogs. Every day is a beach day for dogs in San Diego.

DOGS ON GREAT LAKES BEACHES (traveling West to East)

Possessing the largest surface area of any freshwater lake in the world, there is enough water in Lake Superior (**) to easily fill the other four Great Lakes to overflowing. Lake Superior is known for its cold water and rugged shoreline but there are some sandy beaches scattered across its 300 or so miles of southern shores. Other beaches are more of the cobble variety. Most of the shoreline is sparsely populated which bodes well for finding a dog-friendly beach. In Michigan, the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore allows dogs on the beach from Twelvemile Beach Campground to Au Sable Lighthouse and at Munising, dogs can dig in the sand at Miners Beach. At Sand Point, dogs can play on the beach until the trail begins to climb the cliffs. In Wisconsin, dogs are allowed on the beach in Ashland and in Minnesota, dogs can swim in Lake Superior at Duluth's Park Point Beach.

Dogs will have to admire the spectacular dunes and sandy beaches of the eastern shore of Lake Michigan (**) mostly from the car as dogs are not allowed on Michigan state beaches and most county and town beaches. In-season, the metropolises of Indiana, Illinois and Wisconsin are even more restrictive. Chicago has recently gotten its first official dog beach at Montrose Avenue. Belmont Beach is not an official Chicago beach so dogs are allowed on this small patch of sand in a fenced area. In nearby Evanston licensed and vaccinated dogs are allowed on Dog Beach but a beach token is required for non-residents from May to October which costs $80 to $100. Your best bets to dip into Lake Michigan, the only Great Lake totally within the United States, are the national lakeshores and the state parks of Wisconsin's Door County. At the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore dogs are restricted to the easternmost beaches at Mt. Baldy and Central Avenue until October when all beaches open to our four-legged friends. In the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, dogs can swim in the waves of Lake Michigan backed by some of America's larges dunes on all beaches except Platte Point Beach, the D.H. Day Campground Beach and the Manitou Islands. Dogs also cannot make the Dune Climb up hundreds of feet of sand.

Lake Huron (*) features 3,827 miles of shoreline, characterized by shallow water and many sandy beaches. None of this will matter much to your dog, however, since the Lake Huron beaches in Michigan are mostly closed to him. Alpena is a rare exception. Dogs are allowed on the resort destination of Macinac Island, however.

Although its shores are the most densely populated of any of the Great Lakes, there is plenty of opportunity for a dog to explore Lake Erie (***). The smallest of the five lakes, Erie waters average only about 62 feet in depth and warm rapidly in the summer for happy dog paddling. Ohio, especially around Cleveland, is the most restrictive of the Lake Erie states. Try some of the smaller town beaches in Ohio and New York, most of which permit dogs outside of designated swimming areas. Some of the best Lake Erie beachfront is in Presque Isle State Park, the most-visited state park in Pennsylvania. Your dog can can hike the sandytrails past the swimming beaches and enjoy the waves on the long, unsupervised sretches on the northern end of the peninsula.

Not many people have settled most of the hundreds of miles of shoreline of the south side of Lake Ontario (*) in New York. There aren't many beaches and not many bans on dogs - as long as they don't try to swim with the humans.

[aion-rsa]

How Psych Evolved Through the Character of Carlton Lassiter

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Early on in the Psych pilot, Shawn Spencer’s (James Roday Rodriguez) ludicrous plot to impersonate a psychic in order to solve crime suddenly takes on grave stakes: Chief Vick (Kirsten Nelson) informs him that if he’s lying, he’ll be prosecuted for hindering a police investigation. Just like that, he’s locked into his lie, and has no choice but to let it snowball—into a private eye business with his best friend Burton Guster (Dulé Hill), but also into a lucrative consultancy gig for the Santa Barbara Police Department that, psychic antics be damned, legitimately saves lives.

But while it’s the Chief who put the fear of God into Shawn, the true threat to his secret was always one Carlton Jebediah Lassiter (Timothy Omundson). In the early seasons, Lassiter was the perfect foil: a by-the-book detective obsessed with proper procedure and with hypermasculinity, who had patience for neither Gus’ high-pitched squeals nor Shawn’s supernatural “hunches.” The fake psychic’s obnoxious theatrics were nothing without an exasperated reaction from Carlton… especially as those hunches kept paying off and making this old dog all the more self-conscious about his own inability to learn new tricks.

Even moreso than their eventual tango duet in Psych: The Musical, Shawn and Lassie’s song has always been the Psych theme:

I know, you know, that I’m not telling the truth

I know, you know, they just don’t have any proof

Embrace the deception, learn how to bend

Your worst inhibitions tend to psych you out in the end

Yet even as Lassiter delighted in watching Shawn get shown up by other fake psychics and even threatened to be the one to someday catch him in the act, over the course of the series this seeming antagonist shifted into a comic relief role and eventually a truly sympathetic figure. As Carlton became Lassie, so too did Psych grow beyond its cheeky premise, from a potentially one-note episodic show to a serialized dramedy about a found family solving crimes in all manner of unconventional ways—a connection that was cemented in Psych: The Movie and now in Psych 2: Lassie Come Home.

It started with Shawn noticing that Lassie needed help, even if he would never say so outright—when he encountered the detective, drunk and loose-lipped and off his game, in “From the Earth to Starbucks.” Not only was he confounded by Shawn’s skills, Lassiter confessed, but it made him feel worse about the fact that he couldn’t solve what he believed was the murder of a local astronomer who seemingly died of natural causes. Shawn, Gus, and Juliet (Maggie Lawson) spent the rest of that episode surreptitiously helping Lassiter solve what was indeed a murder, all while throwing him clues without him realizing. There was a noticeable absence of Shawn’s psychic shtick in that season 1 episode, since the point was to give Lassiter all the credit, which meant making it look like Lassiter’s way of working. Shawn didn’t have to perform, aside from moments of conspiring with Jules, because it was very much a case of What Would Lassie Do?

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By the time “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing” in season 3 and was the prime suspect in a criminal’s death, he knew he had no choice but to bring Psych in where the SBPD wouldn’t investigate. And in the case of “Last Night Gus” in season 6—well, it was in everyone’s best interests to solve the mystery of that Hangover-esque night. Over the years, viewers discovered along with Shawn, Gus, and Jules various Lassie quirks: He works out his daddy issues by dressing up as his Civil War ancestor and an archetypal cowboy. He enjoys tap dancing with Gus because it helps him sort through his thoughts. He falls in love with Marlowe (Kristy Swanson) despite her criminal record. He shares more and more of himself with these colleagues who become friends and then family. In turn, he comes to, if not actually believe in, then at least accept the idiosyncrasies of Psych—because like it or not, it makes his professional and personal lives better. At the same time, Shawn’s lie quietly explodes his relationship with Juliet, as it makes her doubt that he was telling her the truth about anything. Even after they reconcile, the ramifications of almost losing her cause Shawn to pull back from automatically playing the psychic card.

And then Lassiter winds up shot and recovering in a hospital bed, helpless in the most Hitchcockian fashion at the start of Psych 2, and there’s no question about who he’ll call.

Clearly creator Steve Franks and the other writers made the decision that if they were to have Lassiter as a presence in Psych’s present, they had no choice but to draw from Omundson’s personal experience recovering from a debilitating stroke. Yet it’s eerie how well this dramatic arc fits Lassiter’s character—Lassie, who may have become a big teddy bear by the end of the series, but who is still obsessed with (heterosexual, able-bodied) notions of supposed manliness. Carlton “Danger” Lassiter, who once said he would go out “in a hailstorm of bullets” if it meant catching a criminal. Now he has to face the knowledge that he may never walk again.

Interestingly, Juliet is not the one whose help Lassiter specifically requests, despite their history as partners. In fact, it’s likely their shared experience that makes him reluctant to put her in that position; if there’s someone that Carlton would be afraid to be exposed in front of, it’s his former mentee. How can he reconcile asking the one-time junior detective whom he showed the ropes to adapt to a situation where he’s still getting his bearings? To wit, he puts her off with a to-do list of errands—a throwback to their early days together, when he frequently invited her to “shut it” or otherwise stay in her lane.

Thankfully, one of the many lessons Juliet took from their time together in the field was to not obey orders when she knows she’s on to something. And so she returns to the scene of the crime where Lassiter was shot, follows up on ballistics, and locates the missing puzzle piece of the second bullet. Shawn and Gus get the ghosts, but Jules gets the shooter. Between being confined to his hospital room, and in the face of Jules’ own stubborn tenacity, Lassiter couldn’t have stopped her if he tried. In many ways, accepting help not asked for demands even more vulnerability from him.

What’s most fascinating about Shawn and Gus’ investigation in Lassie Come Home is that not for a moment do they bullshit Lassiter. This isn’t a case for Psych, it’s an act of love from two close friends—absolutely no psychic spectacle necessary. Now, one could argue that Shawn wouldn’t have even thought to make up a vision because, as far as he knows, Lassiter watched his goodbye video (in the series finale) all the way to the end, where he confessed the truth behind how he manages to solve so many crimes.

Instead, right before Shawn could give Lassiter the answer he’d dreamed of hearing for eight seasons, the detective popped out the DVD and broke it in half. At the time, this moment in the Psych canon, arguably more than his relationship with Marlowe or his identity as a father, was when Lassiter experienced his greatest character growth: He would rather pause time, to focus on all the good that Shawn had accomplished through his lie, than be right.

But time can’t stay paused forever; and if Lassiter is being clear-eyed about how Shawn solves his baffling hospital sightings in Lassie Come Home, then he also has no illusions about his inability to solve his own mystery alone. He can contribute his observations—credible and not—and draw his own conclusions, but he has to trust Shawn, Gus, and Juliet to be his eyes, ears, and legs outside of the prison of his room. He also has to accept that he’s not always present in the crime-solving; there’s a recurring theme in which Lassiter, drifting on his meds, opens his eyes to Shawn and Gus, or Juliet, waiting expectantly for him to wake up and catch up. In one scene where Shawn goes to ask his advice about fatherhood, Lassie is completely asleep, an incredible display of vulnerability from both Lassiter and Omundson.

Yet as we learn in his final showdown with the murderous nurse Dolores (Sarah Chalke), just because Lassiter closes his eyes doesn’t mean he’s out for the count. The way he outwits her is Lassiter to a tee: Even while slipping away from the fatal morphine drip, he has enough wherewithal to grab one of three (three!) guns he had stashed in his hospital room—just like in “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing.”

But this time, instead of being all cool and flipping the bullet into his hand, this Lassiter is babbling to the morphine-induced hallucination of his dead father (Joel McHale) about how much it hurt to lose him, about how he’s afraid he’ll leave his daughter to grow up without a father just like he did.

The moment is played for laughs, with Dolores’ face screwing up into incredulity—this guy has a gun pulled on her, and he’s still mumbling closure to his ghost dad? But for fans, it’s tantamount to the DVD moment: Lassiter has finally found the way to be unguarded, to embrace the ridiculousness of the present moment without self-consciousness, without losing sight of the perp. Even though he has the upper hand, he’s still scared about what he’s going to do when he gets out of this room. He can put away a killer, but he can’t predict his own future beyond the hospital.

Which makes his reunion with Marlowe—witnessed only by Jules and Henry (Corbin Bernsen)—all the more moving. Another character in another narrative wouldn’t have cared if he returned to his wife in a wheelchair, wouldn’t have agonized over mustering enough strength to stand face-to-face with her. But it’s Lassiter, with specific ideas about what it means to be a man, and for him that means looking Marlowe in the eye so they can press their hands together—this time not glass between them, nor either of their pasts, but this new challenge—in solidarity.

Lassiter’s not perfect: He has a lot of toxic masculinity left to unlearn, and he owns an appalling number of guns. He’s still more conservative than not. Because he’s a cop who becomes more sympathetic, his narrative contributes to the larger cultural trend of “copaganda” on television. It’s the same problematic issue that faces the characters on Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Even if he’s lovable, and especially because of this fact, his identity as a police officer complicates the conversation around his character growth.

But within the world of Psych, he’s a character with a worthwhile arc. Like Lassiter, the series started out following a strict formula, and only after it had relaxed into something stronger than its premise—its talented ensemble, ‘80s riffs, and library of delightful in-jokes and callbacks—could it grow beyond its initial form.

Speaking of in-jokes… For the 100-plus teases, hints, and outright cameos the series gave us of its signature symbol, we all failed to spot Psych’s most important pineapple appearance. Lassiter is the pineapple! Prickly on the outside, sweet (but still tart) on the inside. Often difficult to spot, but so rewarding to find. Case closed.

The post How Psych Evolved Through the Character of Carlton Lassiter appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Where Can I Take My Dog? To The Beach?

It is hard to imagine many places a dog is happier than at a beach. Whether running around on the sand, jumping in the water, digging a hole or just lying in the sun, every dog deserves a day at the beach. But all too often dog owners stopping at a sandy stretch of beach are met with signs designed to make hearts - human and canine alike - droop: NO DOGS ON BEACH. Below is a quick traveling tour of America's beaches with each state ranked from the most dog-friendly (****) to the worst (*). https://sites.google.com/view/girldognamess/unique-dog-names

DOGS ON ATLANTIC OCEAN BEACHES (traveling North to South)

The rocky coast of Maine (***) is mesmerizing to look at but doesn't leave much room for sandy beaches. Dogs are generally banned from the beaches at the many small state parks along the Maine coast, but dog owners will find more friendly sands on the town beaches. Around Portland, the state's biggest city, and the tourist towns of the Southern Coast dogs are often allowed on the beach anytime Labor Day to Memorial Day and in the mornings and evenings during the summer. The spectacular Acadia National Park is one of America's most dog-friendly national parks but does not allow dogs on its beaches.

It is lucky for dog lovers that New Hampshire (*) has only 18 miles of coastline. State beaches and parks don't allow dogs on the sand at all. If you must stop in New Hampshire, try the Grand Island Common in New Castle or Foss Beach in Rye during the off-season from October to late May.

Around Boston, the beaches of the North Shore are off-limits to dogs during the summer but other towns in Massachusetts (****) are more generous - dogs are usually allowed year-round with restrictive hours in the summer. Cape Cod, however, is the best destination for beach-loving dogs in New England. Cape Cod National Seashore, America's first national seashore, allows dogs on the beach anytime outside the swimming areas (and not on the trails). The curviture of the Cape limits sightlines down the beach and gives the park the impression of being comprised of a series of dune-backed private coves. The two tourist islands off southern Cape Cod, Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, are both extremely dog- friendly - on Nantucket, dogs can even take the shuttle to the beach.

The beaches of Rhode Island (**) are kept dog-free during the summer but if you take the ferry to Block Island, dogs can enjoy the black sand beaches throughout the year. In Newport, you can take your dog on the fabled Cliff Walk (poop bags are provided at the trailhead) through the backyards of America's rich and famous. The hike begins at Bailey's Beach, which welcomes dogs from Labor Day to Memorial Day.

The sandy beaches of Connecticut (*) are not known for being dog-friendly. But many aren't that friendly to people either, with restricted access being common. If your dog is hankering to try the benign waves of the Long Island Sound, stop in Groton. Dogs are not allowed to experience America's most famous beach at Coney Island in Brooklyn.

The further east you go out on Long Island the more dog-friendly New York (**) becomes but whether on the north shore or south shore you can find a place to get your dog to the sea. Dog owners must pass on the prime destinations at Jones Beach and Fire Island National Seashore until reaching the Hamptons, where the tails of surf-loving dogs will start wagging. Many towns in the Hamptons offer dog- friendly sand and at Montauk, on the very tip of Long Island, several beaches allow dogs year-round, including Gin Beach on the Block Island Sound. The wide, white- sand beaches of the Jersey shore are some of America's most popular and there isn't much space for a dog to squeeze into in the summertime.

Most of the beaches in New Jersey (***), including the Sandy Hook Unit of the Gateway National Recreation Area, open to dogs in the off-season. Summertime visitors should take their dogs to Island Beach State Park, one of the last undeveloped stretches at the Jersey Shore. Pets are allowed on the non-recreational beaches in this ten-mile oasis. Dogs will never get to trot down the historic wooden planks of the Atlantic City boardwalk, however - no dogs are permitted on the beach or boardwalk of the Grande Dame of America's seaside resorts. Dogs are also not allowed anywhere in the Victorian village of Cape May but dog lovers can travel south of town to Sunset Beach, a sand strip at the southernmost point of the Jersey shore that is actually on the Delaware Bay. In the water offshore of "Dog Beach" are the remains of the Atlantis, a unique concrete ship built to transport soldiers in World War I.

Off-season, the sandy beaches in Delaware (****) are a paradise for dogs. Two state parks, Cape Henlopen and Delaware Seashore, both welcome dogs between October 1 and May 1. During the summer season dogs can also share the beach with their owners on select stretches of sand in Delaware state parks. In Cape Henlopen, the 80-foot high Great Dune is the highest sand pile on the Atlantic shore between Cape Cod and Cape Hatteras. The concrete observation towers standing as silent sentinels along Delaware beaches were built to bolster America's coastal defenses during World War II. Summer vacationers can take dogs on the Dewey Beach town beach in the mornings and evenings. Along the Delaware Bay just north of Cape Henlopen you can find several beaches that offer frisky wave action and wide swaths of sandy beach - and best of all there are no restrictions against dogs on the bay beaches.

The Assateague Island National Seashore is the prime destination for dog owners heading for the beach in Maryland (***). The undeveloped dunesland permits dogs year-round on the beach and in the campgrounds (but not on the short nature trails). Keep your dog alert for the wild ponies that live on the island. Its neighbor to the north, Assateague State Park, often celebrated as one of the best state parks in America, is off-limits to dogs. If you are not roughing it on your trip to the Maryland seashore, nearby Ocean City allows dogs on the beach and boardwalk between October 1 and May 1. Traveling along the Chesapeake Bay, dogs are banned from the thin beaches in Maryland state parks. Exceptions are the small beach in the former amusement park at North Point State Park and the beach north of the causeway at Point Lookout State Park.

There is plenty to like for beach-loving dogs in Virginia (***). Canine romps on the clean, wide sands of Virginia Beach's "Strip," the commercial oceanfront from 1st Street to 40th Street, can't begin until the day after Labor Day but during the summer dogs are allowed on residential beaches above 41st Street before 10 a.m and afer 6 p.m. Dogs can jump in the ocean anytime at Cape Henry on Fort Story, where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Chesapeake Bay. Fort Story is an active military base, the only installation devoted to coastal operations, but its uncrowded, pristine beaches are open to the public and dogs. Just to the west is First Landing State Park, where canine swimming is allowed on unguarded sandy beaches. Check for seasonal restrictions against dogs in these places. Just off-shore are views of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, one of the seven modern engineering marvels of the world. Each span of the 17.6-mile crossing utilizes more than 2,500 concrete piles to support the trestles.

Except for designated wildlife areas, dogs are permitted on the beach year-round virtually everywhere on the Outer Banks in North Carolina (****). Cape Hatteras Natonal Seashore has only four swimming beaches (in season) on its entire 70 miles of protected coastline which leaves plenty of open sand for the dog to roam. Seafaring dogs can reach Ocracoke Island and Cape Lookout National Seashore by ferry or private boat for many miles of more undeveloped, dog-friendly beaches. The northern part of the barrier islands has been rapidly developing in the past decade but where you can still find access to the beach, unleashed dogs are sill allowed year-round in towns like Duck and Corolla. Mainland North Carolina beaches on Cape Fear are almost as dog-friendly; most swimming beaches restrict dogs only during the day in the summer.

South Carolina (****) ranks among the most dog-friendly beach states on the Atlantic seaboard. Get away from the people and commercial beaches and there is plenty of unrestricted sand for dogs in the Palmetto state. Most of the smaller towns allow dogs on the beach under voice control and only Myrtle Beach (from 21st Avenue North to 13th Avenue South) bans dogs completely. One of the best places to take dogs here is Hunting Island State Park. More than one million visitors (human) come here each year, 85 miles south of Charleston, to enjoy three miles of unspoiled beach.

Georgia (**) doesn't sport much coastline and many of the beaches on Georgia's barrier islands and the Golden Isles are under control of resorts and most welcome dogs except during the middle of the day in summer. Cumberland Island National Seashore permits dogs but is accessible only by private boat. Savannah's beach at Tybee Island is closed to dogs.

Florida (*) ranks among the most dog-unfriendly of states. Entire counties and regions ban dogs from the beach. There are so many prohibitions already against dogs on Florida beaches that when they change, it is typically in favor of dog owners. For the Atlantic beaches, the northeast part of the state around Jacksonville (Amelia Island) offers some of the best beaches for dogs in the state but heading south below Daytona, dogs are almost universally banned from the sand. Jupiter, on the Treasure Coast, is one place you can find a break from the ubiquitous NO DOGS ON BEACH signs. Fort Lauderdale has thrown dog owners a tiny bone - they have set up a 100-yard long Dog Beach (at Sunrise and A1A) on Saturdays and Sundays only from 3:00 to 6:00 p.m.

DOGS ON GULF OF MEXICO BEACHES (traveling East to West)

The Gulf Coast beaches in Florida (*) offer precious little for dog owners. Dogs were once associated as closely with the Florida Keys as conch shells but today you have to look hard for a beach to take your dog. Anne's Beach in Lower Matecumbe and Sombrero Beach in Marathon are two safe places. In Key West the "Dog Beach" is at Waddell and Vernon avenues but there is really just enough sand to accommodate one good beach blanket and the little amount of swimming available is treacherous over coral outcroppings. On the Suncoast, seek out Bonita Beach Dog Park north of Naples, the excellent Fort DeSoto Dog Beach and Park in St. Petersburg and the Dog Beach on Honeymoon Island in the Dunedin area. Head for Franklin County, though, where dogs are allowed on all the public beaches - and the only county in Florida to allow dogs to run free. On the Florida Panhandle the Gulf Islands National Seashore is the only national seashore that bans dogs completely. It is the same story in town after town on the Gulf of Mexico across Florida. Near Panama City, dogs can reach the water on Carrabelle Beach and Bruce Beach. At Saint Andrews State Beach, a past winner of "The Best Beach In America," dogs can hike the sandy nature trails and run on the beach of the Grand Lagoon. It isn't actually the Gulf of Mexico or the Best Beach In America, but you can them from here.

For dog owners, Alabama (*) may as well not even have the few beaches it does on the Gulf of Mexico.

In Mississippi (**) dog owners need to stay on the western coast in Hancock County; dogs aren't allowed around the populated Biloxi beaches.

People don't seek out Louisiana (*) for its sandy beaches; most of the coastline is made up of bayous. Grand Isle State Park is the only state park with access to the Gulf of Mexico and dogs are allowed in non-swimming areas here.

In Texas (***), Padre Island is America's longest barrier island and there is plenty of room for dogs on its 113 miles of sand. At Padre Island National Seashore dogs are allowed anywhere except on the deck at Malaquite Beach and in front of the Visitor Center at the Swimming Beach. Galveston Island serves up another 32 miles of mostly dog-friendly beach.

DOGS ON PACIFIC OCEAN BEACHES (traveling North to South)

Dogs on leash are allowed in all Washington (***) state parks, often on the beach, but not in many swimming areas around Puget Sound. No dogs are allowed on beaches in the city of Seattle. The uncrowded Pacific Coast beaches are some of the dog-friendliest in America - even Olympic National Park, which bans dogs from almost all of its 632,324 acres, opens some of its remote coastal beaches to dogs. Dogs are allowed on almost all beaches on the Washington coast as long as they remain out of the active swimming areas.

All of the beaches in Oregon (****) are public. You can step on every grain of Oregon sand for 400 miles and, in the rare exception of a ban due to nesting birds, your dog can be with you all the way. One beach dog owners won't want to miss is the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area with its 40 miles of sandy shore. These are the biggest dunes in the United States - as tall as 500 feet and reaching two and one-half miles inland at their widest point.

Northern California (****) would get plenty of votes from beach-loving dogs for having the best beaches in America. Only a beach here and there restricts dogs from its sand on the North Coast. Even in the highly populated areas, concessions are made for dog owners. In Marin County a "Dog Beach" has been set aside on the north end of Stinson Beach and many towns allow dogs on the beach under voice control. San Francisco ranks among the dog-friendliest of beach cities. Take your dog to the Golden Gate National Recreation Area and have your pick of several designated dog-friendly beach areas. At Baker Beach, dogs are allowed to romp off- leash. Further down the coast, dog owners will want to visit the Monterey Peninsula. Dogs are welcome to run on the Carmel City Beach and can slip into the water near Monterey and Pacific Grove as well. At Big Sur dogs can enjoy one of the prettiest secluded beaches on the coast a Pfeiffer Beach. Skip Santa Cruz and there are plenty of opportunites to get your dog on the sand in California's Central Coast, especially on unnamed beaches.

Heading south on the California coast the water warms up and beach restrictions on dogs increase accordingly. There is still sand time for dogs in Oxnard and Ventura but things are getting bleak as dog owners reach Santa Barbara. In Los Angeles County the beaches are for people. In Southern California (**), San Diego is the place for sand-loving dogs. Several popular beaches have set aside "dog beaches" that attract hundreds of dogs. Every day is a beach day for dogs in San Diego.

DOGS ON GREAT LAKES BEACHES (traveling West to East)

Possessing the largest surface area of any freshwater lake in the world, there is enough water in Lake Superior (**) to easily fill the other four Great Lakes to overflowing. Lake Superior is known for its cold water and rugged shoreline but there are some sandy beaches scattered across its 300 or so miles of southern shores. Other beaches are more of the cobble variety. Most of the shoreline is sparsely populated which bodes well for finding a dog-friendly beach. In Michigan, the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore allows dogs on the beach from Twelvemile Beach Campground to Au Sable Lighthouse and at Munising, dogs can dig in the sand at Miners Beach. At Sand Point, dogs can play on the beach until the trail begins to climb the cliffs. In Wisconsin, dogs are allowed on the beach in Ashland and in Minnesota, dogs can swim in Lake Superior at Duluth's Park Point Beach.

Dogs will have to admire the spectacular dunes and sandy beaches of the eastern shore of Lake Michigan (**) mostly from the car as dogs are not allowed on Michigan state beaches and most county and town beaches. In-season, the metropolises of Indiana, Illinois and Wisconsin are even more restrictive. Chicago has recently gotten its first official dog beach at Montrose Avenue. Belmont Beach is not an official Chicago beach so dogs are allowed on this small patch of sand in a fenced area. In nearby Evanston licensed and vaccinated dogs are allowed on Dog Beach but a beach token is required for non-residents from May to October which costs $80 to $100. Your best bets to dip into Lake Michigan, the only Great Lake totally within the United States, are the national lakeshores and the state parks of Wisconsin's Door County. At the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore dogs are restricted to the easternmost beaches at Mt. Baldy and Central Avenue until October when all beaches open to our four-legged friends. In the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, dogs can swim in the waves of Lake Michigan backed by some of America's larges dunes on all beaches except Platte Point Beach, the D.H. Day Campground Beach and the Manitou Islands. Dogs also cannot make the Dune Climb up hundreds of feet of sand.

Lake Huron (*) features 3,827 miles of shoreline, characterized by shallow water and many sandy beaches. None of this will matter much to your dog, however, since the Lake Huron beaches in Michigan are mostly closed to him. Alpena is a rare exception. Dogs are allowed on the resort destination of Macinac Island, however.

Although its shores are the most densely populated of any of the Great Lakes, there is plenty of opportunity for a dog to explore Lake Erie (***). The smallest of the five lakes, Erie waters average only about 62 feet in depth and warm rapidly in the summer for happy dog paddling. Ohio, especially around Cleveland, is the most restrictive of the Lake Erie states. Try some of the smaller town beaches in Ohio and New York, most of which permit dogs outside of designated swimming areas. Some of the best Lake Erie beachfront is in Presque Isle State Park, the most-visited state park in Pennsylvania. Your dog can can hike the sandytrails past the swimming beaches and enjoy the waves on the long, unsupervised sretches on the northern end of the peninsula.

Not many people have settled most of the hundreds of miles of shoreline of the south side of Lake Ontario (*) in New York. There aren't many beaches and not many bans on dogs - as long as they don't try to swim with the humans.

[emmaofnormandy]

The alliance of the houses Targaryen and Tudor.

The cold war came effectively to an end. The winter was defeated at least. It brought Westeros the sensation of relief for being released of a heavy burden that was so long ignored, tossed it to old songs. It came with a great cust, though, and even Daenerys Targaryen had her own losses to deal with. Amongst them were her lover, Jon Snow (or should he be now conveniently reminded as Aegon Targaryen, the lost son of her brother to a Northern lady?), and the best of her men, her knight and wise counsellor, Ser Jorah Mormont. Worse of all, perhaps, was the death of a son of hers. Viseryon's life was shortened by the cold spear of the undead night king that crossed his heart. A scene she’d never forget.

Victory custed too much for the silver haired self entitled queen of Westeros. But she survived. She also escaped machinations articulated between Bran Stark and his sister, Lady Sansa, but she would deal with them later. A more important war was to come. She fled back to Dragonstone then, where she reunited with the remaining forces the dreadful war could not destroy.

She had to look composed as a queen as herself should be. The time to defeat a usurper as Cersei Lannister was to come and she had no time to grief. On that particular morning she left bed earlier than the rising sun and with her hair slightly loose, dressed herself accordingly the colours of her House: black and red. Missandei soon woke and joined her mistress and friend in the privy chambers made of stones where the fireplace was still alight.

In silence, both women greeted with small smiles and an exchange of friendly glances before Missandei began to brush the silvery locks of Daenerys. Once all was set, they went to have their morning meal at what Dany named “throne room”, once occupied by her ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror.

There, she surrounded herself with Grey Worm, Missandei, the Spider, Tyrion Lannister and Barristan Selmy. Once the first rays of light broke through the open windows of the room, Dany, who chiefed her small council, began the meeting:

“Greetings to all”, she began, nodding her head out of respect for each of there present. “I know many of you wished to remain in your warm beds, but the urgence of matters prevent us for sleeping any further”.

She awaited as the warm liquid served by her servants was well swallowen in the respective throats of her trusted men-and woman-, so the honey mead would wake them up.

“I have reports that the queen has been guarding the capital well”, announced Varys, or the Spider as he was popular known. “Your Grace, she took children and women under her embrace. If I may speak so, I’d advise you not to attack directly the Red Keep.”

Daenerys said nothing, but a nod of her head indicated she listened. Tyrion followed:

“Well, discipline and order are what Grey Worm and his men know best”, and here he exchanged looks with the Unsullied man. “But if I could give you any advice concerning invasion is this: spare the civilians and the town will be yours.”

“But the Lannister army is big”, Dany pointed it out. “She also took the men who served the House Tyrell and those who also served the Tyrell’s by extent. What can we do about these men, Lord Tyrion?”

“We should bring the war to them”, he affirmed, “but out of the Capital.”

“How should we trust they would leave unguarded King’s Landing?” Dany pushed.

The sun hasn’t reached the high skies and tension was in the air. No one there present had the answer to her questions, questions that were most properly asked and showed how clever was Daenerys Targaryen. But brain was not enough to beat a war, and strategies were urged to be thought. To the queen’s displeasure, Cersei Lannister held advantage there.

Grey Worm spoke at last, breaking the awkward silence that had instaured between the group, aware how the abscence of Ser Jorah was an important player sadly missing by sadder circumnstances which took his life away.

“We have enough men to break through the defenses of the Capital”, said he, “and of course there is not a single intention of our part to involve innocents in this bloody shit. Yet, war is war and we must be prepared for losses. What I was thinking was this: a man of my trust leads the front invasion whilst I, with the other half of the men left under my charge, attempt to drive the main forces of the Lannisters out of the capital.”

“It is a good plan”, Dany admitted it, “but I still see flaws on it. Unfortunately we are outnumbered and...”

A knock on the door interrupted the already tiring discussions, surprising those present and even the queen was intrigued at who might be. She told Grey Worm to open the door and, as he did so, they are all caught off guard by the presence of one Unsullied and a man dressed in different robes that Dany never saw before.

“Yes?” she inquired curiously.

“Good day my lady, my lords.” The said man approached once permission was granted. He seemed afflicted and Dany wondered why. He was of blonde hair, an oval face clean of beard--which indicated a young age, she assumed- with light blue eyes and a red-ish mouth. His robes seemed simple, but Dany took no long to perceive he was but a messenger. Question was: who sent this young lad?

“The name is Edward Wydeville”, he so presented himself. “I was sent all this way by Henry Tudor, earl of Richmond.”

Dany was very, very intrigued by this.

“Never heard of such a man, Ser Edward.” She said before giving the said Edward a smile. “Allow me to present myself, then. I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons”

Ser Edward Wydeville bowed respectfully and somehow that handsome man did not appear to be on Cersei’s side, but Dany knew by now she could not rely on appearances and that she should be careful. 

“It is a delight to be at your presence, Your Grace”, said the Wydeville man. “My lord the earl of Richmond is a king-to-be also and he is in need of allies to take what was wrongfully stolen from his: the throne of England.”

“How convenient”, murmured Tyrion under his breath.

But Dany did not give the dwarf any attention. 

“England? Never heard of such a realm.”

Ser Edward explained it properly and suddenly all the eyes were on this pale-ish knight man who somehow reminded Dany of her beloved friend Jorah Mormont.

“I see”, she said after a while. “But I have a war on my own to wage, Ser Edward. I am not sure...”

Much for her surprise, however, Varys interrupted her by saying:

“How many men are serving this Tudor lad, my lord?”

“King Henry, my lord”, ser Edward corrected Varys, which amused Dany. “He has an army of 2,000 men but it’s not enough.”

And suddenly Dany could see where this was all going to. All of a sudden, there was hope.

“Is His Grace”, she thought wise to address  properly a man whose claim to his own throne in this said realm of England much echoed hers to Westeros, “here? Is he aware that you came to seek for my aid? But, mostly important: why did he look for my help and not Queen Cersei?”

But Ser Edward Wydeville did not back upon the dragon queen’s response. He looked into Daenerys’ eyes and said:

“Because my lord the king knows an usurper when he sees one, and Your Grace is the rightful queen of Westerosi’s throne.”

There was more than this, Dany supposed, but still she decided to meet this King Henry Tudor in person.

“Well, I suppose he landed here. Bring him personally, Ser Edward. Tell His Grace that Queen Daenerys wishes to see him.”

Ser Edward flashed the silvery queen a relieved smile and bowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

So he departed. Once he did all eyes were on hers, but apparently Varys comprehended truly what was forming in the dragon queen’s mind. Tyrion, however, looked unpleased, which did not escape Dany’s eyes. But it was time to achieve victory and she would do all she could to conquer what was wrongfully taken from her family.

*                                                                *                                                  *

The earl of Richmond was now styled Henry Tudor, King of England, Prince of Wales and Duke of Lancaster even if living abroad all those years meant not he held such titles as he did in paper. Time to replace the Yorkist usurper, the malign king Richard III, was coming, but despite the coyness of the king of France, he had to look for other allies for aid in his conquest.

His uncle Jasper Tudor told him there was a realm not too far from the British isles, but a little further from France, where there was a queen who shared his fate. At first, Henry understood nothing of why he should search for the aid of someone who, like himself, was struggling to take his throne. But the earl of Pembroke innocently suggested:

“She has two living dragons, creatures once thought to be mythical. I do not doubt she would easily smash her rivals in her own war”, he said, “but her dynasty must go on and she’ll marry to fill her duty. She is in the same position as yourself, nephew.”

“I thought I’d marry the Yorkist princess”, Henry reminded him.

But Jasper shrugged his shoulders.

“A woman with dragons seems to me far more powerful and important than a daughter of an usurper. Peace will bond two realms, I’m sure.”

“She will require something of me”, he sighed, “before anything is dealt.”

“A risk we should take”, Jasper suggested. “Politics is always dealing with both sides, nephew. You cannot expect to arrange a deal that benefits you only, even though such political treatments are often made for this purpose. As a king, you must look well for the realm you are to rule.”

Henry could see where he was going to, but he was still unsure about it. 

“We have our own wars to fight”, he told his uncle. “Why fighting for others’?”

But the argument was interrupted upon the arrival of Ser Edward Wydeville, who seemed optimist. 

“She has a good deal of men to help our cause”, he told them, to the delight of the earl of Pembroke, “but maybe she expects our help in turn”.

“This was expected”, said Jasper, pleased by what he heard. “Go on, Henry. We must do whatever it takes to reach that throne of yours.”

So the game of thrones finally began, the man thought.

*                                                            *                                                         *

Daenerys was waiting for the visitor in the chambers where it was said Aegon was spending his time when idea of conquering Westeros flashed before his eyes like a vision. It was, therefore, most significant that she agreed to wait for him there.

Dressed in red, she asked Missandei to braid her silver hair as beautifully as possible. She expected to impress this Tudor king, after all, they had so much in common.

“Fret not, Your Grace”, said Missandei, “he’ll be of your liking and you will be of his.”

She giggled and the sound relaxed Dany a little. She had had little time to laugh or to be remembered she was a woman, after all, with sentiments and needs. Ever since Jon betrayed her and even upon his death, she felt weirdly abandoned, pushed to her own luck. She lost the North’s support, but she’d win them and all those who refused to bend their knee. All she could think was...

“Your Grace, Henry Tudor, King of England, Prince of Wales and Duke of Lancaster is here”, Missandei announced, bringing Daenerys back to reality.

Henry entered like he was a king already crowned, even though insecurity betrayed his eyes. However, despite the confidence displayed, Daenerys saw more of it. She caught herself surprised by finding him handsome: tall, elegant, charming. Henry possessed all in his presence: his shortened light brown hair, his light brown eyes, his long nose, his lips... It was almost inevitably that her eyes fell upon the well built muscles underneath his rich robes, but a blush on her cheeks upon noticing it quickly made her eyes look away.

Henry too was surprised to be at the presence of a beautiful woman as Daenerys. She was by far the handsomest lady he’d ever put his eyes on. Her hair was of a silver colour he’d never seen it in any of her sex, her lilac eyes all the same: never ever he thought possible to dive in eyes like hers. Her complexions made her fair, her body suited well in the red gown... To his pride, he was remembered of the House of Lancaster. Perhaps not all was too lost. And they smiled to each other because they knew it.

“Your Grace”, she moved towards him and thought wise to greet him with a gracious curtsy. “Welcome to Dragonstone”.

Henry smiled and bowed appropriatedly.

“Your Grace” he replied. “Thank you for receiving me.”

“I trust the journey was well?”

“To be fair, I have been accostumed to long journeys” said Henry “as I was particularly raised abroad.”

“Oh?”

Henry smiled at her confusion.

“I was born in England, a realm not too far from Westeros, my lady. But there happened to be in a civil war where my uncle, who was the king of English subjects, was usurped. This war shattered my kingdom between two powerful houses, one of the York, responsible for those bloody tragedies, and the other of the Lancaster, my own, dethroned. For some reason, I represented danger to those Yorkists and was promptly raised on exile. I’m eight-and-twenty and have not been at home ever since I was four-and-ten.”

Daenerys frowned upon hearing this.

“I’m sorry to hear it”, she paused to ask Missandei to fetch them some wine as she leaded her guest to a seat to take next to hers. “I too knew nothing but exile, except most of my lifetime. Our stories are very similar, Your Grace. My father was the king of the Seven Kingdoms, a title that has been held for generations ever since Aegon, my several times grandfather, conquered and unite these kingdoms. But then... my brother fell out of his marriage to a Dornish girl, he loved a northern lady of name Lyanna and the two of them ran off. Her betrothed, Robert of the House Baratheon, caused a bloody civil war, sending most of us to death. My mother gave me birth right on this castle, in Dragonstone, but did not make it. I and my other brother had to survive depending on others out there.”

Henry looked shocked upon hearing this. Presuming Daenerys’ older brother died, she really had no one at her side. His uncle had a point where marriage alliances were concerned, and to be king of two kingdoms! But Henry was far more concerned in taking his own back. Nonetheless, he said:

“Our stories link too closely for my taste.”

Dany chuckled. She liked him.

“True, they do. But tell me your intentions, Your Grace. I don’t think you came all over to ask aid from an uncrowned queen. Your messager told me you acknowledge Cersei Lannister as an usurper, but even so... uncertaintities are pending to my side.”

Henry did not lie when he said:

“We need each other, Your Grace. Destiny is not something to be played upon.”

*                                                         *                                                            *

Henry Tudor was shocked. Perplexed, petrified even. He never thought mythological creatures were living beings. Daenerys laughed at his face. Drogon and Rhaegal looked unimpressed, though.

“They are real!” even uncle Jasper was surprised.

Dany was proudly told how the dragons were the symbol of a small kingdom named Wales. She loved that as she thought her children, as she told both Henry and Jasper Tudor, disappeared before she found them again. 

“They were once mythical in Westeros too”, she told them. “There was a civil war amongst my ancestors which we call ‘dance of dragons’. Back then, a woman could not rule on her right, so her claim was usurped by her half-brother. Eventually, this resulted in the killing of the poor creatures. Each generation they grew weaker until they were no more.”

“It’s an impressive story”, Henry said. “It reminds some of our kingdom’s history as well”, and he told her the story of Empress Matilda, lady of the English.

Daenerys sighed. 

“It saddens me that a woman cannot be taken seriously without a man at her side. These are treacherous creatures.” She laughed, but the sound of her laughter appeared sad to Henry’s eyes.

For some reason, he found himself offended by it.

“Not all of them are. I know most of them can be so, though. Ambition corrupts their souls before we know.” He grinned at it. “But some of us remain faithful to our beliefs.”

At that, Dany could not help a smirk.

“Aye, glad to hear you are not like most of them, Henry Tudor.”

And Jasper suddenly found himself excluded from the talk of the King and Queen, but this somehow brought a sincere smile to his lips. Not all was lost to the Lancastrian house, he thought.

*                                                               *                                                         *

Despite the evident danger, every early morning Henry Tudor stood carefully from a safe distance where the dragons of the House Targaryen were sleeping. He observed the different colours of their scales, and wondered what would be like to ride them. 

Daenerys told him the feeling, but he found himself eager to mount on one and, like a child, see the world. It was when Rhaegal opened an eye and stared at him. Henry froze, but somehow man and creature knew one would not harm the other. A chilly breeze came from the east and messed a little with Tudor’s hair. He knew he was wasting time there in Dragonstone, but as far as he knew... things could be worse. 

“Rhaegal likes you, I think.” Daenerys pointed it out, appearing before Henry knew. “How long have you been here, Henry?”

So they were calling each other’s name now, Henry smiled.

“Not very sure.” He admitted. “I could not sleep so I came over here.”

Dany smiled. 

“You are a dragon too, in your own way.”

“A welshman always is, I suppose.” He chuckled. “Hence the dragons on my flag.”

Her smile spreaded upon her lips and Henry decided he liked the view. He suspected the queen did not smile often, and as the days went by, turning to weeks, he learned why. Henry too had his own losses, but nothing dreadfully compared to hers. The self entitled king of England understood her better.

“Do you miss your home?” She asked. She needed to know.

“I do”, Henry was sincere. “And my lady mother the most. I’ve never my father, though my uncle, his brother, whom you’ve met, acts like one to me. Without them, I’d be nothing.”

“Sometimes I wonder what is like to have a family”, she admitted softly. “But we should discuss this later”, Dany composed before he could see right through her. “I came over to talk to you about something, Your Grace.”

It did not go unnoticed to Henry Tudor how much he preferred when he was addressed by his birth name rather than formal titles.

“I cannot long no more.” She was talking about war. “I need your support, that is why I have treated you as my guest, and entertained you as well as I could.”

It was true, though: despite her “poverty” in due respect to her position as queen-to-be, Dany was in no position to offer something lavishingly, but Henry and his comitive understood that too well. Regardless, somehow there was music, food and dancing. Uncle Jasper and his friends were pleased and it would not surprise Henry if he was told that Dragonstone was a fresh view after all those years in Brittany and France.

Nonetheless, all fun left aside, it was time to come to an agreement, which Henry hoped to be fair for both of them -since he was either in position to negotiate, anyway. She was his last hope.

“I will help your cause, Your Grace”, he said, “with one condition.”

Daenerys was not a fool to comprehend that alliances were forged following agreements that brought benefits for both sides. However, Henry Tudor carried enough men to help her cause and she’d do anything that her dignity agreed to it. Cersei needed to fall.

“Yes” she instigated him.

“I need your aid to help mine as well.”

It could be worse, Dany thought, but why did she feel disappointed? Was she expecting something different?

“Of course.” She agreed, somewhat tense, though. “I suspect within this mutual alliance there are other terms also? Whether in economic and political sense?”

Henry smiled, he appreciated her wit.

“Aye, Your Grace. We expect to favour Westeros over others in commerce terms and if one day Westeros is in need of aid, England will help you.”

“As otherwise”, she assumed, happy to know it. “Then we are now allies, Henry Tudor, King of England.”

“Aye, we are, Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Westeros.”

It was now time to part.

*                                                           *                                                        *

Jasper Tudor was a blessing and a good replacement, if such can be said, to the position left behind by Ser Jorah Mormont. His military experience was welcome to all those present in Daenerys Targaryen’s privy councill, especially by the queen herself.

It was thanks to him, alongside Grey Worm, that the queen’s army was able to be more organized. Soon, with proper training and planning, they were ready to set to the Capital.

“Are you good with swords, Your Grace?” The day before the final battle, she was found chatting with him, drinking some wine.

“I had my training”, Henry said, excusing himself from the lack of experience in battlefield. He blushed and it did not go unnoticed by Daenerys, who smiled. “I will do well.”

“I’m sure you do.”

There was silence between them, but one of the comfortable kind. As she served them two glasses of wine, Henry was caught curious about knowing her properly. So he inquired:

“Have you been married before, Your Grace?”

Daenerys looked at him surprised and thought seeing preoccupation in Tudor’s eyes for offending her. But she should know by now this question would eventually be asked.

“I have.” And she told him about Khal Drogo, and how her own brother Viserys sold her to a tribe of what she thought being barbarians, but eventually she brought them as their own kin. Even so, she never again remarried.... despite being close to Jon Snow. A lament sigh escaped her.

“I’m sorry about that.” Henry said, and he truly was. He too was eager to have a family himself, but considering his background... he was fearful of doing so, and his mind was ever in survival and his whereabouts when running constantly from his enemies before going to action. At long last.

“Don’t be. It made me who I am”, she assured him and her confidence surprised him. “I have faith in myself, Henry Tudor. So you should be, you are a survival too.”

They locked long gazes, but no one did a move. Finally, Dany stood and said:

“I’m off to sleep. The day will be long tomorrow. Have a good night, Henry Tudor.”

He found himself smiling.

“And you as well, Daenerys Targaryen.”

*                                                           *                                                        *

Despite Jasper’s efforts in placing his nephew to mount Rhaegal, Henry promptly refused. He needed to have experience on battlefield, and riding a dragon would not help him. Dany admired his courage, which reminded her for a moment of Jon Snow.

But they could never be alike, she thought. He was honest, good hearted and not likely to be manipulated by others, even if he loved his uncle dearly. Henry had his own views, stood for them, and was humble enough to look for other’s counsels. Besides, he was far handsomest than the Snow bastard, Daenerys thought mischievously.

There were no more thoughts about Tudor as the time came. The plan was to divide and conquer, simple as it might be, but more efficient. Dany had her and the Tudor men to make her cause successful. Not to mention, her dragons. Her children. But she would have to be careful, as Tyrion told her there were men with garnment appropriated to perfurate a dragon’s flesh.

That way, she followed Henry’s advise and made sure it was builted an appropriated armour to Drogon and Rhaegal. It delayed them fro two weeks, but it was enough to rest ease the Lannisters and reassure the Targaryen’s party confidence.

The day had come. It was before the dawn, before the sunlights began to colour the nightful sky that Daenerys Targaryen’s army reached the land. She flew above the clouds, always watchful in her steps and in her sons’. She could hear the screams from above and expected no children, no woman, no innocent would be harmed. 

She flew higher and smiled upon seeing Rhaegal and Drogon side by side. Such sight renewed the faith upon herself. Daenerys would bring back the Targaryens to the throne. 

The sun was rising. It was time, she thought. She turned far from the sea, flying to where the true battlefield was expected to event the bloodiest, and hopefully final, battle for her throne.

*                                                                   *                                                    *

Henry detested to admit to himself, but the mess of a battlefield could cause was horrible. Yet, it brought any man a terrific sensation of power. He was not as great swordsman as his uncle was, but he could managed a sword. Defeating this Lannister army renewed his purpose and hopes of earning his own throne back from the usurpers.

He saw the blood thirsty in his uncle’s eyes beneath the helmet and smiled upon himself. However loud it was, the sounds of sword against sword did not prevent any communications to his army. Despite the predictability of “dividing and conquering”, the Capital fell to the Targaryen’s side.

Henry participated in the release of the innocents and was side by side to Grey Worm as they ran indoors to take the Red Keep. The usurper queen, much to Tudor’s surprise, was present with an iron-made face, not so ready to give up her throne, her power.

“I see the mad woman sent her men to take me from here.” She said, her voice but in a whisper echoing nonetheless in all the iron throne. Her Greyjoy’s allies were defeated and the left of the Tyrell’s army defected to her enemy’s side. But a lioness would not give in. “She’s very much stupid.”

“If you have any dignity, it is better for you to leave where you are now, woman!” Henry found himself saying it patiently, surprised to himself he was forced to deal with... another woman on the throne. To his defense, he’d never seen this before.

Cersei laughed. But there was sadness in her eyes, for as she heard the battle cries outdoors, she was each time certain of the defeat and a shiver running over her spine only confirmed the shadow of death surrounded her.

“She used you, whomever you might be. To her own purposes. That woman you came to defend was as mad as her father. Why do you think dynasties fall and others come to rise? Because no one stand the old! No one bows for madness, no one takes idiocracies anymore!”

“Is usurpation a clean path for you?” Henry asked. “You know nothing, Cersei Lannister.”

And before he could say any longer, there came Daenerys Targaryen on Drogon. It was a mesmerizing but powerful image, Henry admired.

“Leave.” She told her men. “This is between me and her. She’s already defeated.”

The Unsullies made sure to guard the town whilst the Tudor men certified that the Red Keep was safe.

“You have two options”, declared Daenerys, mounted on Drogon. “You either surrender and I’ll forgive you, but have you to be locked with the Silent Sisters, or you will face punishment for treason.”

Again, Cersei laughed, but it was an empty laughter.

“I committed no treason.”

She held onto the iron throne. Daenerys stared at her proeminent enemy, the last liason to the fall of her ancestors. She sensed the presence of the ghosts of her family, each member she never knew. She knew they were there, ready to see their house restored to the glory stolen.

“Stand.” Her voice was filled with no emotion. Her eyes were hard, nearly narrowed.

Cersei held her breath.

“No.”

“Stand.” She rose her voice.

Two guards of Daenerys threatened to do it so, Cersei saw to it. She rose it, then. 

“Step forward.”

Cersei reluctantly did so, eyes filled with despise and fear. 

And then...

...then....

.....

Death came.

“Dracarys!”

*                                                               *                                                        *

As promised, Queen Daenerys promised to give Henry Tudor, King of England, the help he needed. She went as far as creating him Ward of the East, becoming Lord of the High Garden, a title that Jasper Tudor proudly saw fit (as their own emblem was a red rose).

“I am humbly thankful for your aid.” She thanked each man, bestowing Jasper the wardship of the Stormlands. “I shall never forget what you have done to restaure the glory of the House Targaryen to where it rightful belongs. The Queen will never forget her friends.”

And this was very much true for Henry and Jasper, most benefitted for such aid. Now, as rich men and owner of other lands along those they held rights to in their own homeland, they returned to England. But for Daenerys, it was difficult to say goodbye.

“May I have a word to Your Grace?” She inquired.

Henry agreed to it. They went to have a stroll around the gardens. She was nervous, and due to her last disappointments with men, it would not be surprised to see her reluctance. Somehow, the new Lord of High Garden understood it well.

So they paced in silence for long moments.

“I’ve grown fond of you, my lord.” Daenerys admitted it. “Not very sure the extent of it, though, but the moment I had my eyes on you... I knew you were different. Perhaps I’m a fool, think it as you will. But you gave me hopes, you were loyal and...”

Henry stopped pacing and turned his face to admire her beauty. His hands were, before he knew, holding hers. He knew somewhere behind the back of his mind he was possibly betrothed to somebody else, but... this was a much better match. Because he found himself besotted.

“I’ll never forget you, Dany.”

And he kissed her lips upon saying so. They did not know what tomorrow might bring and Daenerys would not like to know either. They kissed and she was glad for it. 

“Be careful there.”

Henry smiled. “I will. And you too.”

She smirked. “I still have a rebellion to deal with.”

“Perhaps I might come to your aid again”.

Dany flushed.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

They leaned into each other and embraced. She had her throne at what cust? Oh but she’d dearly missed him.

*                                                               *                                                       *

October, 1485. 

Henry Tudor was finally crowned King Henry of England, the Seventh of his name of the House Tudor, Prince of Wales, Duke of Lancaster, etc. It would be a difficult reign to rule upon, but Heny was ready. He was finally ready to it.

Alliances here, alliances there, he did not forget the one he’d like to wed. A letter had been sent, again in the person of Edward Wydeville. As Henry’s betrothed, Elizabeth of York, had died and the next heir was sent off to be married in Portugal, he was less than inclined to espouse the youngest daughters of the queen Dowager. So the powerful Daenerys was his choice.

The marriage happened in January of the next year and it was accorded they would spend six months in one realm and six months in another, to the delight of both parties. Daenerys with the aid of Henry VII of England defeated the Northern rebellion, having Brandon of the House Stark hanged for treason and Lady Sansa Stark marriaged off to Jasper Tudor. Curiously, this would become a happy marriage for them both.

It was all settled then with Queen Daenerys and King Henry. The rebellions in England were easily displaced not only through the aid of Dany’s dragons but the efficacy of the counsel of Tyrion Lannister and the archbishop Morton who were very fond of each other...after all, similar minds think alike.

To Daenerys’ surprise, she’d bear a good offspring in due time: towards the end of 1486, Rhaegar was born. He was followed by Henry in 1487. Margaret, the first princess, was born in 1490. She was also followed by Rhaella in 1492. Another boy, Edmund, came in the spring of 1494. Jaehaerys was born in the winter of 1496 and a pair of twins named Katherine and Aegon were born in 1498.

Upon the death of Daenerys in 1515, Rhaegar, as it was decided upon his birth, inherited the Westerosi throne and upon Henry VII’s death in the year after, Henry, the prince of Wales, became King Henry VIII. Margaret was married to the king of Scots, whilst Rhaella was married to the future emperor Charles V. Edmund would take his cousin, a daughter of Lady Sansa and Ser Jasper, as his wife, one day becoming the Lord of the Stormlands. Jaeharys sadly died in infancy. Katherine was sent to church and Aegon too did not live passed 10. 

That way, the Targaryen-Tudor family lived for many years, entwining the realms of England and Westeros in long propserity.

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

AO3 Link

Chapter 9 

You and Arthur decided to camp after all, him having found an extra bedroll from somewhere you didn’t want to ask much about. It was too dark to see by the time you left the last debtor and neither of you could find the new campsite without a map. 

“Here looks good, I think.” A few rocks had to be moved but it was off the main path and out of sight of anyone thinking to rob the two of you. 

The glow from the campfire warmed the small clearing, and you offered to cook with what you could find nearby. While you roasted a rabbit over the fire, Arthur scribbled away in his journal and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, a concentrated look settling on his face. 

“How old are you, Miss Moore?” The question caught you off guard as Arthur broke the silence. He hadn’t looked up from whatever writing he was doing in his journal. A flush started to spread up your face. “Isn’t that a bit...oh, I don’t care. I’m twenty nine.” You poked the fire and didn’t know what to expect from the man. He nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 

“Why do you ask? How old are you?” Arthur chuckled slightly. “Just wondering in relation to Marston how old you are. You don’t look old if that’s what you think I’m impyin’. I’m thirty five this year.”

You had no idea he was older than you by a few years but it didn’t matter much. In terms of life experience you were sure he outnumbered you a hundred times over. 

“You married? A widower?” 

“Jesus Arthur, no. I didn't run away from anything like that. Had a boy a long time ago but he - he was shot in a robbery attack at a bank and didn’t make it. Henry. Never really thought about romance after that, just seemed so...far away I guess. Other girls got married to continue their lives and for me, that would have been the end of it. Couldn’t think straight for a few years after it happened.”

He nodded appreciatively at the response and continued on his own. “Glad we didn’t swipe two widows in the same week, Dutch don’t like splittin’ up families much. Poor Mrs. Adler had a lot of ugly coming at her all at once. And that don’t count that Michah was the one who found her in the cellar.”

Not wanting to discuss the abusive, nasty drunk you let his words hang in the air. From between the trees you could see the moon climbing up through clouds and starlight, and the whole universe shone down above you. Constellations swirled and sparkled, winking back and forth across the night sky to answer a call that began millennia ago.   

Figuring a complete change in subjects would be best, you broke the silence that wrapped around you too tightly. “Arthur...you could have left me on the ground and just escaped with Abigail back in Blackwater much easier. I would have been fine. Why did you come back for me?” 

Arthur didn’t seem to have an answer yet, so instead he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of rum. After a long swig, he passed it to you.

“I don’t really know. I didn’t think...well you’d just been shot! Course I wasn’t gonna leave you bleedin’ on the ground. Couldn’t look back without knowing I did that.” 

Rubbing your hands together and reaching toward the heat of the flames, you responded, “Should have just left me on the dust. Woulda been much faster for you and Abigail to escape without some shot up, dead weight hanging onto you for dear life.” 

He laughed and tried to play it off. “I’ve known Abigail a long time, and she would have beat me dead if I left someone she finally approved of to die. Her seal don’t come out too often now that she’s got Jack.” 

The bottle of rum was in your hands again and you took another pull. By now your head was beginning to swim slightly and a happy hum had settled over your body. 

“How much does Herr Strauss lend out to those folks anyways?” Arthur was thumbing through the papers you had collected this morning. 

“Nothing conspicuous, and only from those who are desperate enough to take it. Looks like we got...thirty five here altogether? Ain’t too bad for…” Arthur trailed off as he turned one of the papers over. “Aw, hell. We got one more stop to make tomorrow before camp. Damn fool lent to four folks, not three. Last one here’s a Mr. Downes...name’s familiar. Think I met him in Valentine.”

You passed the bottle back to Arthur and he took a large pull. Empty, he threw it towards the tree line and sighed. "If you wouldn't mind, YN, would you grab the other bottle I've got in my saddle?" 

You sauntered over to where the horses were tied up for the evening and rustled around in the saddle bags. Rope, gun, papers...there it was. A full bottle of rum. You yanked it out and looked back towards the campfire where things had suddenly taken a turn. Arthur was standing with his hands up in the air, and two men were pointing guns at him and speaking in slurred tones. 

"Now listen here, mister, this is how it's gon go. You were stupid enough to camp alone in our territory, and now you gotta pay the Lemoyne Raiders whatya owe them."

It was a gang you vaguely remembered by name, the Lemoyne Raiders. Crouched down by Zeus you slowly withdrew a shotgun and a pistol from the weapons holster on his side. These damn fools, two bed rolls were out lying by the fire, did their eyes not work? 

You crept quietly back to camp and watched the two begin to rummage around, then waved and made sure Arthur saw you. He signaled for you to get away while the two raided his meager supplies, but you ignored him. The shotgun felt better in your hands so you tossed the pistol through the air and Arthur caught it silently. His face checked the safety and he glanced back at you bewildered. You had just tossed him a loaded gun which could have gone off at any moment, and you didn't even check the safety. The pistol was quietly shoved into the back of his pants while the two men emerged from his tent. 

"Mister, you got nothing here. Just some cans of food. Where's the money?"

"What money?" Arthur grunted as one of them scanned the ground. 

"You folks always got money, runnin' around and robbin' folks." The silent one finally spoke up. "Hey, uh Jim, there's two beds here." 

You stood up and cocked the shotgun while the two idiots spun around to face you. 

"Don't. Move." You instructed coldly, staring down the barrel at the two. They reluctantly put their hands up, muttering about having to submit to a woman. 

"Here's how this is gonna go, fellas. You two are gonna leave. Forget you saw us. We’re just a pair passing through who won’t kill you if you don’t see us. Got it?”

They hesitated, but a quick movement to grab his gun had Arthur slamming the butt of the pistol into the taller one’s head. The other was now unguarded and he lunged towards you to try and wrestle the shotgun from your hands but you swung it around and smacked him so hard he hit the ground instantly, a large bump already forming from the impact.

With the two limp bodies, you and Arthur walked to the stream a good ways away from your camp. He chucked the empty bottle of rum between the pair to make it look like they simply passed out drinking.

“Stupid fools. You looked mighty frightening with that shotgun, I will say. Wonder how they didn’t hightail it out then.” You laughed knowing he was trying to lighten the mood. “Our camp is a good ways away, hopefully they get turned around and don’t find us again. It’s late,” as if to emphasize your point a yawn overtook you. The two of you headed back and walked the quarter of an hour mostly in silence. 

A warm tingle from the rum still worked it way through you as you rolled your coat up into a pillow for your bedroll. Arthur began to protest that you should take his tent and he would sleep out in the open but you lay down before the words could pass his lips. 

“I’m fine out here, it’s a warm night! Don’t worry. G’night, Arthur,” you mumbled as your eyes fell closed. 

The soft glow from the dwindling flames danced on your face, and you looked so peaceful and beautiful falling asleep. Arthur shook off his heavier coat as a breeze passed through, thinking you were more in need of a blanket than he was. He gently bend over and draped the coat across your shoulders and hips, then climbed into his tent to write away in his journal some more. 

Sun breaking through the clouds woke you up to a beautiful day. Apparently those two men hadn’t found you again as the only sound around you was the leaves above you brustiling against one another and the horses munching on some grass. 

Arthur didn’t seem to be up yet. His smell of horses, tobacco leaves, and mint was overwhelmingly close though, and as you started to sit up you noticed his jacket draped across your shoulders. He must have put it over you when you fell asleep and for just a moment you pulled it tight around you and inhaled the scent. It was the perfect mix of outlaw and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

The campfire was long gone out but you wanted coffee. After you threw some smaller logs into the pit and began a flame, you brewed the grounds into boiling water and took a sip to fully wake yourself up. 

“‘Sere enough of that for me?” a gruff voice mumbled from Arthur’s tent. You smiled as you poured him a cup. Too bad there was no sugar to add. 

He came out groggy and rubbing his eyes, the sun a bright contrast to the darkness of his tent. Gratefully he accepted the cup from you and took a long sip. The silence was comfortable between you two as the morning crept on. 

Eventually it was time to pack up and head off to the last of the debtors. Arthur rolled up the bedrolls while you stamped out the last of the fire. Once you were ready to go, you handed Arthur back his coat. 

“Thank you, Arthur...that was sweet.” It was still warm out and the coat was heavy, so he attached it to Zeus with his bedroll. “Was nothin, YN. I didn’t need it and you looked chilly was all.” His tone was relaxed while he brushed his horse.

“Well, even if it was nothing, thank you.” You swung up on Eclipse and gave her a good pat, saying good morning and making sure everything was all in place. After the check was complete, you headed out behind Arthur and Zeus at a steady pace, the forest giving way to more open fields and rolling hills. 

The countryside was so vastly different here compared to Blackwater this time of year. Summer was always hot in the southwestern town, but it seemed so dusty to you compared to the green grass growing elsewhere. Even as the world changed from summer to autumn, you remembered swirling dust in everything. Your clothes, your books, the walls of the stores downtown. Sure, winter got cold and spring was full of nasty storms that brought rain for days, but you didn’t know what to expect from this side of the country with its rolling green hills and mountains the climbed towards the heavens. 

Getting to the Downes house took a few hours. It was a cute little home with a vegetable patch off to the side with plenty of growth. The pair of you stayed back to observe for a few moments and see the best approach. 

“See anyone else nearby?” Arthur asked and handed you the binoculars. “Nope. Just the lone one in his garden. How do you want to do this?” 

Arthur contemplated, then decided it was best to go alone. The two of you coming in with guns was overwhelming but alone he could subdue him incase anything happened. Looking back through the binoculars you noticed something concerning. 

“Arthur, that man is sick. Very sick, he’s coughing up a lung over there.” He swore and observed the man. “Course Strauss lends to the worst off folks around here...well, should make it easy.”

Stepping down from Zeus he checked the barrel of his shotgun for bullets. “Just...be careful, then,” you called softly after him as he walked off towards the house. He smiled back at you and raised his hand to acknowledge what you said then took off towards the small home. 

Watching from your spot in the trees, Arthur approached the man who immediately raised his farming tool up in self defense. Arthur ducked as Mr. Downes swung the rake at him but it was easily blocked and pulled from his hands. He shoved the farmer back towards the wooden fence, and grabbed his collar to pull him in close and threaten him. The house caught your attention suddenly as smoke began to rise from the chimney. You clicked your tongue and both horses started walking towards the house, shotgun held tight in your left hand. Neither man noticed you approach. 

As you got closer you could hear Arthur and the man talking. “You borrowed money from my business partner, Herr Strauss. You owe him. You took the money. He wants it back, what’s not to understand?” 

Mr. Downes was very, very sick, you could see that now. He nearly coughed right in Arthur’s face, and before you could approach him to help the front door or the cabin swung open, and who you assumed was the wife and his son ran towards you. 

“Thomas! My husband isn’t well. If we could just have more…” but she never finished as Arthur shoved Downes away from him and stalked back to you and the horses, and cut her off. “Like I said, we ain’t anybody’s idea of charity. Get us the money!”

He approached with tension clear across his shoulders and barked, “Why didn’t you stay in the woods like we said, YN?” 

Your throat was a bit dry as you tried to answer. “The cabin...I saw smoke and was gonna tell  you.” He ignored you for the most part lost in his own mind, then took the reins for Zeus and climbed up quickly. His spurs clicked as the horse took off, and you struggled to catch up. Something had set Arthur off and he was in a foul mood. 

The next hour was silent, and after awhile you couldn't take it anymore. 

 “Arthur, why didn’t you collect the debt from the Downes family?” He pulled Zeus’ reins and came to an abrupt stop, looking at you with an angry brow. 

“They didn’t have the money, that’s why. Strauss lent to the wrong damn people.” 

You were by a small stream so you decided to get down and fill up your water flask. Arthur angrily splashed cool water on his face to try and calm down, muttering while he crouched close to the moving water. 

Cautiously you pressed him for answers. “Why do they make you run these awful errands? I have only known you these past few months but that’s not the you I’ve seen every other day.”

Not looking back he replied, “Because I’m big, and I can get the angriest when they need me too. Ain’t a good thing I’m doin’, but somebody’s got to. We need money. And just so you know, that is me, darlin’.”

He stood up to his full height and you realized just how terrifying he could be to a stranger. Broad shoulders filled out his shirt well, and you could see muscles hiding beneath from years of hard work. When he needed to his eyes could get mighty dark and send shivers of fear through a person. If you were someone who took on a loan, seeing him ride up and demand it back would work pretty well. 

At camp he was different though. Relaxed and protective of those he loved and had ridden with for years. But out here he was a stranger; a mirror of society that could change its reflection at any moment. He was whoever he needed to be to make sure the job got done. 

“You must really hate threatening folk who don’t need it if it makes you act like this. Beatin’ up someone who just needed money, they’re weak and you’re told to kick them when they’re down. It can’t be good for the soul to struggle with what you want and what has to be done.”

Arthur just stared. His mind seemed to be racing and he couldn't think of anything to say. He simply searched your face in hopes of finding an answer neither of you had. 

You walked back over to Eclipse. The new horse had been perfect for you since she was purchased in Valentine. Sleek, fast, but still study enough to carry the equipment it took to camp around the countryside with guns and such. It was calming to brush her out and to care for her. 

Finally Arthur joined you with the horses. His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, so you silently swung up and got situated in your saddle. 

“You’re right,” he spoke quietly, and you had to watch him to make sure you heard the rest. “Ain’t easy. We used to have a creed, and only took from those who could stand to lose it. But now?” he laughed darkly as he continued on. “I’d follow Dutch anywhere, but he’s a bit off since that stint in Blackwater.” 

“Watching those who are family change ain’t easy. Sometimes makes you change, too. You can’t be unbreakable for your whole life or you’d never get a chance to grow.” Arthur kept staring at you even after you had turned away, thinking that there was something familiar in this feeling, but he couldn’t place what it was. 

Eclipse responded quickly to you clicking your tongue and walked forward. Zeus kept pace while Arthur was lost in thought. 

“Do you know what happened in Blackwater?” thinking of your hometown brought to mind that no one really explained the story. It was always referenced to but never addressed. 

Arthur sighed heavily. “I don’t rightly know all the details...I wasn’t actually there on the ferry. Dutch got the impression that the banks were sending money on that boat instead of by train so they couldn’t get robbed. It was supposed to be the last heist we pulled so we could finally get out and be done.” 

This was something that had plagued him for awhile. “Me and Hosea were off running our real estate gig, something that was real and would have worked. But Michah put it in Dutch’s head that this ferry was the big one. Anyways, it ended in a big shootout with the Blackwater Police and some Pinkertons and us, plenty dead by the end of it. We had that money but had to hide it incase we was found out. Leavin’ town is when I ran into you and Abigail, John had been shot so I had to get her safe.”

Imagining your hometown going through that was rough. You didn’t think your father was on the ferry but you genuinely had no idea. Of course, you knew he wasn’t dead, but it sounds like many others fell in his place. 

“Jesus Arthur...I had no idea it was so bad.”

He watched you from the corner of his eye, interested to see how you reacted. He didn’t know about your father yet and that would have just made things worse. 

“What about the money? Are you going back for it?” you wondered out loud. 

He laughed once. “Not right now we ain’t! Every other window has a wanted poster up of Dutch and Hosea, would be a death sentence to head back anytime soon.”  

“It’s been nearly 5 months, surely it would be safe soon?” 

“YN, folks seem to have a much better memory for those who do wrong against them than right. I have a feeling we won’t be welcome there for a long, long time.” 

Along the train tracks were signs pointing out a nearby town of Rhodes. The old paint was chipping off the wood, and you could see it was riddled with bullet holes. 

“Damn. Those Lemoyne Raiders don’t mess around, we’ll have to be careful riding through here.” Arthur followed the trail heading off to the right and towards the trees.

“Tell me about this new camp. Does it have the same view as Horseshoe Overlook?” You wanted to move on to a different topic as the last one had left an odd taste in your mouth. 

“It’s, uh, big spot on the lake. Nice little island you can row out to, good fishing I’m sure. You’ll like it, spent so much time by the water at the last place this’ll be much closer. Won’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on us there.” He smiled back at you over his shoulder and continued riding ahead. 

Arthur Morgan noticed more than you gave him credit for. Most men you had met were lazy or only had one thing on their mind, but he was observant and quick. 

“Does the lake help with this awful heat?” It may have been mid September, but the turning of the season did nothing to beat away the humidity that settled in the further south you traveled. 

Sweat slowly trickled down your back as you fanned yourself with your hat, the large brim providing a breeze that was much needed.

“Lakes got a good breeze, don’t worry.” 

An easy silence fell over the two of you, and for once you didn’t feel like you had to worry. After months of being around these people you were comfortable and safe, knowing when words didn’t have to be spoken. 

You stopped once more before arriving at camp for a quick chance to rest the horses in some shade and stretch out your legs. Riding all day was hard on a body. 

Arthur handed you his canteen and you took a drink happily. Somehow the water was still cold from that stream and it tasted wonderful on your dry throat. You thanked him and he tucked it away on his horse, but before he finished he froze. 

“YN,” he said very seriously. “Don’t move.”

It all happened very fast, but Arthur reached out and grabbed your arm to pull you behind him, then fired his pistol at the ground. You made a small noise and the horses spooked, but you couldn’t quite see what had caused the commotion. His arm was still holding you back and you clutched his sleeve tightly. 

“Just a rattler, but it was coming up to you and Eclipse there. Figured we shouldn’t risk it.” 

The dead snake lay on the ground and it was big. 

“I...thank you, Arthur. Glad you got it in one shot.” 

You finally let go of his arm and he scoffed. “What, you doubtin’ me as a sharp shooter?” 

Flatly you replied back, “No, it just woulda taken me three or four rounds to even get close.” 

“Maybe that’s something we can work on then. Can’t put you in danger ‘cause you don’t know how to aim.” 

“I can aim just fine! Snakes are just...little is all.” 

Chuckling softly he replied, “Three rounds for one snake! C’mere. I still got a can we can use for practice.”

He walked over to a log and set up the empty corn can on top. “Now, grab your pistol. No not that one. Yeah, that’s good. Okay. See the little notch on top there?” 

Looking down the barrel you could see a raised piece of metal with a dip in the middle. “That supposed to be there?” He didn’t answer so you took it as a yes and raised the gun up to eye level, watching him move away from the can and back towards you. 

“If you keep your eyes open, it tends to help your aim. Now, shoot one and let’s see what’s going on.”

The shot was close, but you missed the can and hit the log instead. 

Arthur rocked back on his heels and contemplated. “How’s that left arm? Holdin’ strong?” You nodded but he came up behind you anyways. “Here. Don’t lock it like that, makes it hurt more after.” He placed his hand just above your elbow and bent it slightly. “There, now relax your shoulders,” his other hand rested gently on your right shoulder, pushing it down into place and loosening up the tension. 

“Seems right. And...shoot.” 

The can flew wildly, and you whooped at your victory. “Right off the stump, did you see that!” You spun around to face Arthur who was much closer than you thought and threw your arms around his neck. He made a rumbling sound in his chest as you knocked him back a step, but you felt his arms wrap around you tightly for a brief moment before you let him go. 

“Sorry, Arthur, it’s just so exciting! I’ve never been good at this before. Shooting, and riding, they didn’t really fit into my life before. It’s all so new!” A bit embarrassed at your reaction, you dipped your head and moved to tuck a piece of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail in the excitement. 

Arthur, however, seemed to take no mind at it all. In fact his face broke into a rare full smile, lines forming around his blue eyes as he put his hands to rest on his belt. He acted much more relaxed and at ease while teaching you to shoot. 

“Alright. Well, next time I go out robbin’ I’ll bring you along and we can really put Dead Eye Moore to the test, how’s that?” 

The horses were rested enough so the two of you set off to finally find Clemen’s Point. You were eager to find the new camp and get settled as the past few days had brought a lot of change, and you were ready to begin a new chapter of your life with the Van der Linde gang.