#while eyrie is sitting there falling to pieces

[impossible-rat-babies]

I’ve been thinking about eyrie and lyse something bad lately omg

[peony-pearl]

Gargoyles Re-watch - Awakening Pt 1

It’s been a long time since I’ve sat down to rewatch Gargoyles; probably since 2020. This is a show that is absolutely synonymous with my childhood, having premiered when I was 6 years old. Memories of watching it are hazy, but I hope I’ll always remember vibes of watching it at my grandmother’s house with my older sister @cherryfinolahobbes​ and our late uncle. Seeing all of the new content, from the amazing Neca figures, to the new comics (which I still need to purchase and read), to listening to the entertaining and informative Voices from the Eyrie podcast (which indulges my love of hearing from voice casts and behind the scenes trivia; seriously if you’re a fan of the show go sub to this great podcast); it’s been great being a fan of such a lovingly crafted show as of late.

However, I’m awful at not only keeping up with things, but also with rewatching, because my ADHD will try to fill in memory gaps/distract me and I’ll just... not turn things on or put them on pause lmao. BUT I want to share one of my most favorite shows! And seeing a lot of rewatches and analyses of Avatar the Last Airbender from so many of my mutuals (I need to do a series for that show too), I’ve decided to do one for my beloved Gahhguyles. So sit back, Happy New Year, and get ready to hear me gush about voice lines, music cues and magic spells recited in latin that have been rattling in my brain for the better part of 30 years!

Immediately you’re welcomed with a title card, a jagged set of stone letters that read ‘Awakening’, overlayed with snarls and a hint of ominous music. Bitchin.

We then cue in to New York City in present day (well, present day in 1994), where explosions can be heard and seen in the clouds; one of the tallest buildings in the city disappears into these clouds, and after a continuous round of noise begins to catch onlookers’ attention, rubble begins to fall from out of the clouds, nearly killing multiple people.

The police are on the scene, and from a particular red car steps out Detective Elisa Maza, voiced by Salli Richardson-Whitfield. Elisa is no beginner to her field. She’s smart and quick-witted, and when she arrives she’s greeted with respect from her fellow policemen who update her on the situation.

More rubble falls, and Elisa sees a set of marks that takes her off guard.

“What could be strong enough to leave claw marks in solid stone?” Elisa asks. This line, if I recall, was used in almost every piece of advertising for the show. We’re then greeted with the Gargoyles logo, and we go back in time. 1000 years to be exact, and now we’re in Scotland, where a group of Vikings are attacking the castle. They’re led by Hakon, voiced by Clancy Brown, and they seem to be winning against the castle, as their catapult destroys a wall and takes down some archers.

We then get our first glimpse of the Gargoyles, a set of stone statues in the dying light of day.

Quick detour for a moment to talk about the animation. Gargoyles is GORGEOUS. The colors of the sunset at the moment we look up at the tower that the Gargoyles are sleeping on are beautiful. There are some episodes that have infamous animation, but they’re not often, and even then, Gargoyles has some great character animation, as everyone has their own unique personality.

We’re then shown the Captain of the Guard, voiced by the late Ed Gilbert, defending the Castle and shouting to his men, who are uncertain about their fate.

Captain: “Stand fast! We can hold them back!”

Soldier: “Aye, and catch boulders with our teeth while we’re about it!”

Gargoyles has one of the snappiest scripts and we’re not even 3 minutes in.

The Captain mentions that once the sun goes down they’ll ‘see some fun’, but just as he does, another boulder strikes nearby, and we get to properly meet the Vikings as the camera pans in on them while they cheer, and Hakon stands proud in front of his army. However, he has his dissenters.

Viking: *talking to another standing near him* “Attacking a castle full of Gargoyles near nightfall! This is crazy, and Hakon knows it!”

Hakon: No, my friend. That’s not crazy *he grabs the viking to look him square in the face* Questioning my sanity when I’m in earshot, that’s crazy!” *he looks back to the castle* I say these Gargoyles are naught but chiseled stone! And even if they aren’t, it’s worth the risk for the plunder within! ATTACK!”

The Vikings charge over a gorgeous red sky, continuing their assault, even making it through the gates as they climb the tower leading straight up to the Gargoyles.Hakon leads the way, his rope secured to where the largest Gargoyle rests.

The sky is getting darker. Hakon reaches the top just as the sun sets, and he witnesses the stone statue crackle and burst to reveal a mammoth purple beast, who looks at him with more annoyance than fear. He grabs Hakon easily and holds him over the ground, more than capable of dropping him right then and there.

The first words of our main man Goliath, voiced by Keith David, are a growling, matter-of-factly “You are trespassing.”

The rest of Hakon’s men witness the rest of the clan awakening (hehe) from their daily stone slumber, becoming alive at night. Hakon draws his sword and slams it into Goliath’s hand, drawing blood. He then urges his men to fight as ‘they are not invincible’.

The battle ensues, and Hakon manages to escape Goliath.

As we see more warring, we come across three distinct Gargoyles; I want so badly to call them by their names, but they don’t have those names just yet XD so for now we’ll just go by Red, Green and Blue.

Green, voiced by Thom Adcox-Hernandez, is the smallest, but that doesn’t deter his personality. He’s sharp as a tack and sassy, and doesn’t hesitate to berate his brothers when they annoy him.

Red, voiced by Jeff Bennett, is impulsive, but earnest and caring and tends to get put into the ‘badass’ category (... but I mean... come on he is a badass; he was my favorite when I was a kid)

Blue, voiced by Bill Fagerbakke, is the laid back foodie, but there’s more under his exterior than meets the eye.

When we meet the trio, Green is watching intently, while Red’s eyes are darting from place to place, bursting with excitement as Blue just sits back.

Red: “Shall we let all our brothers and sisters have all the fun?”

Red then immediately glides away, leaving Green and Blue as Green smirks at Blue, who seems reluctant to join.

Green: “Not afraid, are you?”

Blue: *offended as he stands to his full height* Afraid? Me? HAH! Why, all of nature trembles at my passing! *he lifts up his gut to his chest... only for it to wobble back down*

Green: *pokes his brother’s pudge* “I can see why”

The two join the brawl, and we witness more fighting just as we’re introduced to the next member of our main cast, a capable, much older Gargoyle, voiced by the late Ed Asner, holding his own until a Viking sneaks up on him just before Goliath can glide down to stop him.

Goliath: “Watch your back, old friend.”

Old Friend: *amused* “Huh! Watch your own.”

The fight rages on, we witness the Captain of the Guard in his element as he and Goliath begin fighting side by side. The Captain mentions the Vikings most likely followed a band of refugees the castle is giving shelter to, and as we pan over, we see Blue make his way to the clearing where said refugees are staying, helping himself to some of their food as he’s watched by a young boy and his mother. The boy is amused as he watches Blue easily dispose of a Viking with a large drumstick.

Hakon is then greeted by a Gargoyle beast, a big blue Best Boy who absolutely destroys a stone wall trying to tackle him. Our man Shakin’ Hakon tries to run off, but is stopped by the haunting visage of our final main Gargoyle, Goliath’s mate and second-in-command, voiced by Marina Sirtis, who is going to be one of the show’s absolute BEST characters, if not one of the most amazingly complex characters I’ve ever witnessed. She scares Hakon off easily, and he’s promptly defeated by her and Goliath, but he proclaims he’ll return as he retreats with his men, who are chased away by the arrows of the archers; but as the archers proclaim victory, we notice the way Red, Green and Blue look at each other, feeling their hard work has been ignored.

It’s just the first taste of how the humans of the castle treat them.

Goliath gets his hand bandaged by his mate as the Captain proclaims how the castle owes them their lives.

Goliath: “As we owe you ours every day.”

All is well.

: )

We then cut to the inside of the castle as some upbeat music plays. A flute, a tambourine and a drum lead a simple, but effective merry jaunt as the soldiers enjoy a feast to celebrate the victory. We get our first glimpse of Princess Katharine, a somber-looking young lady voiced by Kath Soucie, and the Magus, voiced by Jeff Bennett (Jeff is like, half the cast in this show), a sorcerer who is always by Katherine’s side.

As the Captain joins the feast, he overhears some of his men teasing about how he’s more like ‘captain of the gargoyles’. You get a sense that the Captain really truly cares about the Gargoyles. He seems unhappy with the teasing, but doesn’t argue. Anytime we see the Captain with his army, there’s not a lot of camaraderie; but with the Gargoyles, he seems very at home. When he’s greeted by the Princess, who thanks him for the battle well fought, the Captain doesn’t hesitate to also credit the Gargoyles for their assistance - but Katharine doesn’t feel the same. She becomes unhappy hearing about them.

Katharine: *after hearing Goliath’s name* “Please, don’t mention that monster’s name in my presence”.

The doors burst open, the Magus drops his drink when he sees their ‘guests’ are that of none other than Goliath himself and his mate, who are there as the Captain’s guests. But not everyone is happy to see him. Katharine admonishes the Captain, and the Magus as well has some choice words, but when the Gargoyles approach and frighten Katharine, she’s surprised to see Goliath bow to her in respect. But after she insults them once more, Goliath’s mate is ready to strike, but Goliath is quick to diffuse the situation and he promptly leaves.

Goliath, despite his name and stature, has great patience and understanding; he is a great leader, and will later show some really interesting character faults. Keith David’s performance hits the nail of the head in every episode, making Goliath relatable, even when he’s at his most stubborn or at his wisest.

As Goliath, his mate, and the Captain reconvene in the halls, the Captain apologizes for Katharine’s words.

Goliath: “No apologies needed. We are what we are. Her opinion will not change that.”

Mate: “Have you no pride? No sense of justice?! We saved their lives and they repay us with contempt!” (this line has lived in my head rent free for nearly 3 decades it’s acted so amazingly)

Captain: “She is right, Goliath. You deserve better than this.”

Mate: These cliffs were our home ages before they built their stone fortress. They should bow to us!”

Goliath: *takes her hand* “It is the nature of humankind to fear what they do not understand. Their ways are not our ways.”

Going back to Goliath and his design, his words and beliefs can carry so much gentility; however we’ll also see later that a lot of old teachings can often drive wedges between him and loved ones, especially when we meet Angela next season.

However, the Captain is still unhappy with the situation that has unfolded. He cares so much for the Gargoyles, and it’s obvious he wants to change some minds.

Cut to the Magus, perusing in his book, the Grimorum Arcanorum within his study; and at dawn, a mystery figure rides off away from the castle - all the way to Hakon to make a bargain.

At nightfall, Goliath removes the bandages from his injured hand, which is now fully healed; in the meantime, the Captain of the Guard urges for Goliath to take the Gargoyles away from the castle as the Vikings had promised to return. The Captain and the Mate continue to try and convince Goliath of the idea, but he refuses to leave the castle unprotected. He decides to go and ward off the Vikings with his old mentor, and he tells his mate to stay with the castle. He promises to her that they are one, now and forever.

In the meantime, we return to the trio of Red, Green and Blue, playing catch with Best Boy, using a slab of meat. The Mate comes around to watch, smiling as they have fun around the refugees that are still under the castle’s protection. The little boy from the previous night curiously runs over to watch just as Best Boy finally gets his meal. Mate is apprehensive of the boy’s presence, and he introduces himself; his name is Tom and he asks for the trio’s names.

Green: “Except for Goliath we don’t have names.”

Tom: “How do you tell each other apart?”

Green: “We look different.”

Tom: “But what do you call each other?”

Red: “Friend”

But Tom’s mother, Mary, steps in, afraid for her boy, and she tells him to get away from ‘those monsters’. Red insists they wouldn’t hurt him, but Mary chucks a hunk of wood at him, striking him. Goliath’s mate, from up high, is enraged, and she insists Mary is the monster, just before Red and Green agree that if she thinks they’re monsters, maybe they should live up to the name.

But just before they can do anything, Goliath appears. He orders for Red, Green, Blue and Best Boy to go to the Rookery until he returns. Mate insists they weren’t at fault, but Goliath refuses to condone any fighting, and he must find ways to deter it, and he promises he’ll make it up to the boys later.

Goliath and his Mentor leave to find the Vikings, locating some questionable tracks. We then check back in with the trio, sent down to where a clutch of eggs rest in a cave like children sent to their room. Blue, interested in some slime on the wall, decides to have it as a snack and we’re treated to an uncomfortable several seconds of him just chewing on this slime.

The camera cuts to a mystery figure, tampering with the Castle armory just as we return to Goliath and Mentor, who laments sunrise is near just as Goliath finds the Vikings. They attack, but realize they’ve been tricked and were being decoyed the whole time. They try to return, but the sun rises, and Goliath and Mentor turn to stone, unable to make it back home before the Vikings ransack the castle. This time, successfully, as the inside job and betrayal is revealed to have been because of the Captain, and he personally apprehends Princess Katharine in a really great moment as she rushes down the stairs, and he slowly ascends to greet her in shadow.

Katharine: “The Vikings, Captain! We are attacked!”

Captain: *grabs her wrist, looking her in the eyes* “It is worse than that, your highness.”

The following silence as Katharine realizes what’s happening, her expression, this quick moment is SO GOOD. We then watch the castle inhabitants led out in chains as Hakon and Captain talk above the commotion.

Hakon: “Not that I’m ungrateful, but why? Why betray your own kind?”

Captain: *almost in pain* “They’re not my kind.”

But it’s not long until Hakon, mace in hand, decides it’s time to get rid of the Gargoyles as the sun sets. The Captain is horrified, and he tells him to leave them alone.

I wish I could describe how much I love that Gargoyles mostly had it’s actors record together (although some exceptions had to be made); you can often feel the fluidity of the conversations, and while I’m not sure if this particular exchange between Hakon and the Captain were recorded in the same room, it’s one of my absolute favorites.

Hakon: *staring at Captain as he’s prevented from destroying a gargoyle* Are you mad?! In a moment they’ll be flesh again and my men will be their prey!”

Captain: “Once your band is out of sight, they won’t follow! It’s not their nature!”

Hakon: “Ahh, well, in that case-” *he strikes Captain, aiming his mace for his head as he pins him against the wall* “Care to discuss the matter further?”

Captain: “...No.”

Hakon: *releasing him, he looks at one of the stone gargoyles* “I haven’t lived this long by taking foolish chances.”

The swell of music as Hakon lifts his mace, the sound of the stone being smashed as Hakon’s silhouette casts over Captain’s horrified face as he stumbles in agony. Damn; DAMN I love this show.

Night falls, and Goliath and Mentor return to the castle, now in smoke as fire still rages. They find the smashed remains of their clan, and Goliath shakily picks up the pieces of what he believes to be the form of his mate as he speaks to her in anguish, just before releasing a roar of despair; we pan out to another hauntingly gorgeous shot of the smouldering castle with a glowing full moon behind it as the screen fades to black, and we’re greeted with the first of many ‘To Be Continued’ cards.

The first episode of Gargoyles wastes no time in getting right into the action, while also building mysteries that will be revealed in later episodes. Yup, we’re already laying groundwork for later plots!! This show is dense with storylines that weave in and out so well, sometimes you’ll get payoff to a question you never even asked about.

Writing this was a DOOZY; I was not expecting this to take me a good couple of hours lmao, but hopefully I can keep with it! I love this show so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop recommending it!

[just-eyris-things]

Response 30 "Why" >:3c

oh dear, oh my! thank you for this, I will give you something you certainly are not expecting, hehe >:]

30: Why?

Characters: Airell, Fia, Trahearne, commander Stoneshire, Eyris (mentioned), commander Akura (@akurathereaper)

Word count: 1029

~

Airell watched the tower crumble and fall into the abyss, together with the enormous body of Zhaitan. The Glory of Tyria hung in the air and the engines roared, as people were collapsing to the ground as the exhaustion finally caught up to them the moment they felt relief regarding the dragon's fall.

"It's over, isn't it?" said Katherine, smiling, her hair messy and a smile on her face. She was not looking at him, only standing so close their hands were touching. Their little fingers intertwined, even though they did not share some significant bond.

"It is," Airell sighed. He looked at her briefly, then his eyes shifted to somebody else, the other commander. Airell felt his throat go dry. He had to do it before he did. As soon as they go back to Fort Trinity... He turned to Katherine. "Are you going to celebrate with the others?"

"Probably, but for a short while," she told him, "I have to catch up with someone." She did not look away from the tower that still had pieces falling off, yet Airell knew who she was talking about - the man with a blindfold on his eyes, talking to Airell's good friend, Eyris, and some rose sylvari mender.

"Yeah. Right."

Airell left her there, but she did not react as she was too busy thinking how the seemingly endless battle was over and now it was time to rest.

~

The ship docked and Airell left to Caer Aval as soon as possible. He went past all the cheering people and got there, yet the person he was looking for was not there. Feeling odd tightness in his chest, Airell gulped and started looking around, and then he saw him on one of the smaller ships docked nearby, looking over the bay.

Airell got there fast and was about to approach him when he spoke, "I...did not expect you to be the first one to come here," Trahearne confessed, not looking away from the cold waters of Orrian bay.

"Expecting someone else?" Airell asked, trying to sound calm. Why was he so nervous? He never felt that way when he was talking to others... but maybe the difference were his feelings towards them and him. Trahearne chuckled and finally turned towards him, his hand resting on a railing.

"Frankly, yes."

"Trahearne-" Airell started but soon somebody else spoke too from behind him.

"Marshal Trahearne!" the sylvari commander called as he boarded the airship. "I have been looking for you," he confessed, but only then he seemed to notice Airell. "O-oh. Am I...interrupting?"

"No," said Airell quickly before Trahearne could even let out a single sound. "I was on my way out anyway."

And so, Airell left them alone, feeling like his chest was going to be crushed from the inside. He had never felt such pain, he did not understand it. All he knew was that it was caused by the Firstborn and the commander and he had no idea how to free himself of said pain. He walked past all the celebrating people and headed out of the fort, towards the nearby cave where Tyrians tried to preserve the natural order. Nobody was ever there and Airell seeked refuge.

He sat there alone, at the centre, his back against the big rock altar. He sighed heavily as he let his head down. Was he that naive? He was so deep in thought that he did not hear nearing footsteps. Only when he noticed movement of someone sitting my his side he flinched and looked at the person. It was the rose sylvari he saw Eyris and the blindfolded man were talking to.

"I do not need to have a Dream connection with you to see your pain," she spoke quietly. She was smiling, yet her eyes remained sad. "What pains you?" Her voice was quiet and mellodious, calming.

"I...do not understand it..." he whispered. "I... I went to tell him but..."

She was silent for a moment, then she took his face in her hands.

"You are no stranger to affection," she spoke, her red eyes looking deep into his. "Your rhuddin," one of her hands moved down to his chest, to where the sylvari equivalent of a human heart was, "has been aching, yet you do not understand it and are too shy to admit it."

"You don't know me, so why...?" Airell whispered.

"You and I have long known what has been going on," she continued."

"Have we...?" Airell was confused. And then her sweet lips landed on his. "Why...? he asked quietly.

"Because I know this 'game'," she said, "and you do not. And..." she inhaled deeply, now leading his hand to her rhuddin, "I have to make you understand..."

"Understand what?" he was so confused. Was it the bond all his brothers and sisters were always telling him about? But he wanted to bond with Trahearne. Who was she? Why was she here? What were her motives?

She chuckled.

"My name is Fia and I am a mender," she introduced herself, finally. "And, I know how bad it sounds, but," she chuckled, "I have been watching you for a while by now. I do not know if others are blind, yet I am not and I know what a lost rhuddin looks like. What do you call yourself?"

"Airell." He was confused by her, by the kiss, by her manner of speech, by her in general. But he was also intrigued.

"Airell," she spoke, again taking his face in her hands. Now she looked at him with compassion and affection, the exact same that he wished Trahearne to look at him with... "will you let me to mend your lost rhuddin?"

Airell blinked, shocked.

"L-like, as in, a relationship...?"

She chuckled.

"We do not know each other that well yet. But I want to help you understand what you feel and how to deal with the pain you are experiening."

"Th-then...why did you kiss me...?"

She smiled sadly at him. He knew what she was going to say and he knew, that even though he did not want to admit it, she was going to speak the truth.

"Because we both needed it."

[madgrad2011]

Autumn Drabble for @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles Prompt: Tradition

Read on AO3 here.

ii. already flying through the free fall

Attending the haunted hayride attraction at Winterfell University is a time-honored, Stark family tradition.  Every year, she looks forward to spending a crisp, autumn evening with her family and their closest friends, drinking apple cider and snacking on caramel apples. 

Well, every year except this year.

There’s no logical reason to be nervous. She adjusts the hem of her thick, cream-colored sweater for the twentieth time, grimacing at her reflection. You’re just meeting Jon’s girlfriend. You know, the girlfriend he didn’t have when he punched your ex-boyfriend and said you were the strongest person he knew? That girlfriend.

She’s seen Jon a handful of times since the party last year (of which her parents remain blissfully ignorant). Occasional family dinners, holiday get-togethers, her going away party - all events at which they had exchanged a few pleasantries, small smiles, and awkward waves. But he hadn’t sought her out like she thought - like she hoped - he might. And now...

She grabs her phone off her dresser and sends a quick text to Jeyne.

You’re sure you can’t come tonight?

Jeyne replies almost instantly.

GIRL YES I have a cold and feel like I’m dying You’re an adult You’ll be fine

She groans dramatically, flopping onto her bed.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

An imposing structure of age-blackened stone and creaking timber, Winterfell University is the perfect setting for all things spooky.  She traces shapes with her fingertips on the cool castle walls, waiting for her father and Robb to purchase the tickets while determinedly not watching the gate. The sun has started to set, throwing the keep’s long shadow over the growing crowd. She shivers suddenly and regrets leaving her coat in her parents’ car.

“Hey, there’s Jon!” Arya shouts beside her, waving enthusiastically. 

“Oh?” She says, voice carefully nonchalant. She looks over her shoulder in time to catch him pointing in the direction of the ticket line. With his hair pulled back away from his face, his smile looks somehow wider - brighter - and it leaves her feeling things that she’d rather not unpack.

(Just friendly. Not friends.)

She takes a sip of her warm apple cider and promptly chokes.

“You okay sweetie?” Her mother asks with concern as she struggles to catch her breath. Arya’s keen eyes narrow and she looks towards Jon.

“Yes,” she replies after a moment, bringing the steaming cup closer to her face in an effort to disguise her flushed cheeks. “Do you see Jon’s girlfriend?”

“Ygritte?” Robb appears next to her and hands her a ticket. “She couldn’t come. Work or something.”

She swears her heart skips a beat.

***

Quite by accident, she finds herself sitting next to Jon on the hayride.

(“Need a hand?” He had inquired after effortlessly hopping onto the trailer. She had accepted his offer with a smile, clambering up beside him with as much dignity as she could muster after almost getting caught ogling his ass.

“Thanks so much,” she had said,  gingerly perching on a bale of hay.

“Course,” he had replied easily, taking the seat between her and Bran.)

The trailer jerks forward with a loud clack, causing their shoulders to brush. They each mutter an apology before turning their attention to the dark entrance of the Wolfswood. She hears the whirring of a chainsaw among faint screams and laughs ahead.

“How’s The Eyrie? This is your first time back home since the semester started, right?” Jon asks as their group enters the forest - its thick canopy blocking out the day’s last remaining light. He leans closer and she catches a whiff of his aftershave. It’s spicy and woodsy and totally distracting.

“Um, yeah, it’s nice! It’s hard being away from everyone, but I’m adjusting.”

“That’s great.” 

She chances a glance at him and finds his eyes focused on the flickering jack-o-lanterns lining the path, expression guarded.

“Have you decided if you’re going to apply for grad school next year?” She briskly rubs her hands together and blows on her fingers.

“I have” - he turns to look at her, his tone betraying his surprise - “I think I’m going to apply for Winterfell’s graduate program in history.”

“Robb mentioned you were considering it,” she explains. “I think it’s a fantastic idea.”

He smiles and her pulse flutters. They fall into a comfortable silence, the trailer’s slow progress over the rough ground causing everyone to sway. As they travel further into the wood, the jump scares get more frequent and the temperature drops drastically.

“Hey, you cold?” Jon asks, his warm breath against her ear making her shiver.

“Is it that obvious?” She retorts, teeth chattering as she tucks her nose into her scarf. He huffs out a laugh and starts to shrug out of his jean jacket.

“Oh, you don’t-”

He pauses, one arm already out of its sleeve, to quirk a brow at her. Chagrined, she bites her lip and nods for him to continue.

“You’re my hero,” she says unthinkingly, closing her eyes and thrusting her arms into the still-warm jacket’s sleeves. She sighs contentedly and shimmies her shoulders, her braid catching on the hay bale behind her. 

“Better?” She can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Much,” she nearly moans, opening her eyes just as his smirk fades. He’s watching her, eyes dark and glittering. He lifts his hand and she holds her breath.

“Good,” he says, gently removing a piece of hay from her hair.

(Just friendly. Not friends.)

***

They’ve all said their good nights and are heading to their cars when she realizes she’s still wearing Jon’s coat.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells her mom, turning on her heel.

“Jon!” She shouts. He stops, looking over his shoulder. “Your jacket.”

“It’s still cold,” he calls with a smile, unlocking his car. “You hold onto it.”

“But-”

“You can return it the next time I see you.”

“Okay, thanks.” She grins, slipping her hands into the jacket’s pockets. He pauses with one foot in the car, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the top of the door. 

“You know” - he tilts his head - “it looks better on you anyway.”

She blushes, mouth agape.

“Sansa!” She hears her mother call.

Jon offers her a final wave, swiftly slipping into his car and driving away.

[ravs6709]

Home With You- Sevade

@arre-rider-of-pyrxe so, here we go. This was the oneshot I said I was writing.

It's another snapshot kinda thing that starts off post WoS. A lot of timeskips. There are mentions of unfamiliar names, but those are just ocs. Most of them aren't important. It's primarily fluffy, but there is a brief scene of a panic attack. If I wrote that part poorly, please let me know! I'll try and fix it!

Anyways, here we go! 4k words!

•~•~•~•~•~•

For a while, Sev had thought that he would never be able to return here. Hillsbridge, the place he had lived for the early years of his life. The place his parents had defended with their lives, and the place that he had helped destroy.

"We're going to fix it, remember that," Kade said from in front of him. "We told each other that we're going to help rebuild it. And that's what matters. Now... you're squeezing too much!"

Sev loosed his grip around Kade's waist, not realizing that he'd been holding on so tightly. They were on top of Kade's phoenix at the moment- Luxuna. In some ways, Sev was never going to be used to being on a phoenix, so high in the air. But he trusted both his boyfriend and Luxuna to hold him, and save him if something were to happen.

With a flap of their wings- red tipped with both gold and purple, signifying that the phoenix didn't fit in the binary of being male or female- they landed on the outskirts of Hillsbridge.

While the damage looked awful from above, it looked even worse up close. All of the materials that had been burned during the attack were still there, and not much looked like it could be salvaged.

"You want to go make our meal while I start sorting through all this stuff?" Sev asked.

The flight to Hillsbridge had taken several hours from the Eyrie, and while they were able to pack some food, not much could be carried for long. While Sev did know how to cook, he usually wasn't required to, since the bondservants were normally in charge of that.

"Okay. You can keep Luxuna with you. I'll be by the centre."

He nodded, before turning to the phoenix. Delicately, he reached out to them with his magic- which despite some recent practice, wasn't strong at all.

Will you help me move the severely charred wood into a pile?

They squawked. What made you think I wouldn't?

Sev gave them a smile, not wanting to use up the energy he would need to be lifting wood. He didn't have much experience in any of this, and it was just the three of them, so he knew that it would be difficult. But after Veronyka was crowned Queen, and Tristan became Commander of the Phoenix Riders, the Riders were given a position that would require for them to stay by Aura Nova.

Sev knew that Kade had enjoyed his time with the other Riders. He'd even tried to convince Kade to stay with them, because look at him, he had his freedom and a phoenix meanwhile Sev was still just a weak animage without a phoenix.

Kade had cut him off with a kiss, and then explained how Sev wasn't just a nobody, but a hero. And that even if he was just a nobody, he still mattered to him more than any status would. And that he never really wanted to be a noble, but wanted to just live in a small home for the rest of his life.

At that point, Sev had never really considered his future. He'd been working for the Empire as a soldier, then spied on them pretending to be a soldier, and all of the stress he'd been under never really gave him time to think. All he knew that the time was that he wanted to spend his future with Kade.

His body moved on its own, sorting through the wood idly as he wore a dopey smile. Even if the rebuilding process would take a long time, it didn't matter, because he was with Kade.

He remembered some of what Veronyka and Tristan had told them when they said that they were going to Hillsbridge to make repairs. Apparently the two of them had gone to Vayle and the other settlements when there was that attack on the Eyrie. They explained some of the basic steps, and gave advice.

The first house didn't look too bad compared to the others. He had to climb and get rid of the loose pieces from whatever was left of the roof, before it would fall on someone. But other than that, the house had remained intact and he moved aside all the irreparable materials.

A few hours later, and Sev was exhausted. Despite the help that he got from Luxuna, they only managed to clear out two houses. By then, the scent of whatever Kade was cooking was prominent in the air, even drawing the phoenix's attention.

"Empire food is good," Sev said while chewing. "But your food is better."

"Sev, don't choke." Was all Kade said, but he was smiling.

Neither of them really talked for too long after that, as Sev was still tired. It wasn't a depressing silence, especially with the squawks of Luxuna as they devoured a few pieces of candied ginger.

After that, the both of them continued working. It felt a little easier with Kade at his side, whether it was extra arms, or just his mere presence. They were able to clear out one more house before they set up to sleep.

When he woke the next morning, he noticed that Kade wasn't around. For a moment, he panicked, but noticed that Luxuna was also gone. They probably went out for a fly. After a few minutes, he saw a red blur in the blue skies, coming closer until it landed on the ground.

"I didn't think you'd wake up until a little later," Kade apologized, as he starting taking off his saddle. "Sorry if I worried you."

"It's fine," Sev said. "You probably needed that fly, with everything that's happened."

In these past two years, a lot had happened. Sev had been forced to become a soldier for the Empire, he'd met Kade and was forced to aid in Ilithya's rebellion, then spied on the Empire as a soldier, and had continued to do so until all of them- not just Sev and Kade, but Tristan and the others too- were safe.

Kade nodded. "Do we start now?"

This time, they started the day off early, so they managed to get more work done. By the end of the day, most of the loose wood had been cleared from the houses, though there was still a lot of ash that had lingered from the fires.

"Do you want to try flying on Luxuna?" Kade asked him, while they were setting up their little camp for the night. "I mean, this time by yourself?"

Sev blinked. While he knew the phoenix decently well, he'd never actually rode on them without Kade being with him.

As if noticing his hesitation, Kade continued. "Or I could join you, but this time you sit at the front."

That sounded like a better and safer idea. He smiled and agreed. Minutes later, they were on top of Luxuna. Everything felt so different, for one, he didn't have anyone to grab on to.

"The reins, Sev," Kade told him, guiding his hands towards them.

When they took off, he was confused as to what to do. But they seemed to understand that much, flying low and slow, wings spread wide.

"Kade, what now?"

"Try communicating with them. Our bondmates usually know what we're thinking, but it's always best to communicate with them. Besides, it'd be practice."

He wasn't wrong. Simple tasks that normal animages did as easy as breathing took effort from Sev. But that was what happened when he neglected his gift, had actively suppressed it. And Kade had been in charge of the messenger pigeons in the past. But he reached out anyway. It took small steps in order to get better.

Where are you taking us? He asked.

Where do you want to go?

Back to Hillsbridge, please.

He hadn't realized it at the time, but they had flown a decent while. By the time they got back, they would be resting.

•~•~•~•~•~•

They'd manage to take off all the extra wood off the homes, and got to work on surviving the floor. The action was so minor, but something about being there made everything spin. The smell and feel of ash on the floorboards, everything about this reminded him of the attack. He could hear the sound of soldiers, him among them, setting the flames to bur-

"Sev. Can you hear me? Sev?" The voice was so soothing, a shelter within a raging storm, a small light within the darkness.

"It will be alright, we're fixing it, remember."

We're fixing it. But it wouldn't have needed to be fixed in the first place if he had done a better job.

"H- hold me," he whispered, not knowing whether he was heard or not.

Warm arms wrapped around him gently, a hand rubbing circles across his back.

"Sev, tell me what you see outside, anything."

He opened his eyes, seeing that Kade was right in front of him.

"You."

He smiled. "Yes, tell me something else."

He turned around. "This house. The sky. I see Luxuna. There's grass."

Kade's amber eyes gleamed. "Okay, tell me some things you hear."

"Your voice. The wind. Luxuna flapping their wings and squawking."

He had to list more things, each thing requiring more effort. Then he was breathing, slow breaths that cleared his mind. Kade hugged him, and Sev buried his face into the crook of his neck.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"Those were some hard times. It's to not feel okay. Just know that I'll be there."

•~•~•~•~•~•

They went back to scrubbing, but Kade had made sure to distract him with conversations. It was clear that he was a little out of his comfort zone, but Sev couldn't help but love him more for his dedication. They were cut off though by the sound of wings flapping.

"Anders? Latham? What are you two doing here?" Kade asked when the two new phoenixes had landed.

On top of them were two boys- men? Sev couldn't recall how old they were- one with dark hair and a bright smile, the other blond and also smiling, but it didn't quite look as cheerful. Sev had met the two a few times, but hadn't remembered much about either of them. All he knew was from what Kade had told him, such as Latham's resentment for Veronyka, which had eventually gotten better.

"One of Veronyka's first orders was that a bunch of us were to spread out and help rebuild some of the settlements," Anders explained. "We also remembered that you two were here, and figured you'd need the help."

"It was tough in Vayle, when there were six of us and the villagers. You're gonna grow old before you finish all this," Latham added. "We're not here for long, just to help speed up the process."

•~•~•~•~•~•

With four people, everything had gone by so much faster. Anders and Latham had experience, which only made things easier. They quickly managed to clean out the ash and soot that clung to the floorboards, now leaving the actual rebuilding process to be done.

With three phoenixes, Kade and the other two would fly out further, chopping down larger trees that normally wouldn't be able to be used due to the distance.

Still, it was tough. They had the wood needed to repair the homes, but they had to make sure that they were sturdy and would be able to handle the occasional rainfall. It was even more tedious than taking down the loose pieces.

The extra company also made things livelier, especially since they were the two most talkative out of everyone in Tristan's patrol. There were jokes and singing and once there were even drinks. The last time he was drunk, he was still trying to keep his feelings for Kade hidden, so this time, his supposed lack of filter had been emphasized, much to his embarrassment later on.

After three weeks, Anders and Latham had left. Xane- Latham's bondmate had gotten a message from Rex that it was time to go back to the capital. They wouldn't be able to stay and rebuild forever, not when there was so much going on in Aura Nova itself.

Veronyka had likely had the Riders go out to do repair work partially because that was just the type of thing that she would do, and also as a way to gain trust from those who had been suffering all their lives. Having the trust from both people of Pyra and all around would make things better for her reputation.

Each day was tiring, but at the end of the day, Sev felt proud at the small amount of progress that they would be able to make. Afterwards, they would go for another short fly on Luxuna. One time, he let go of the reins, and it felt almost freeing.

"I think... I think I want to try by myself this time," he said one day.

"Go ahead, try."

He climbed on to the saddle, and held the reins gently.

Don't drop me. He told them.

Really? You think I'd drop you? Even if I did, Kade would be angry. They replied, and Sev could imagine them rolling their eyes.

He smiled at that. You know what to do, then.

Luxuna began to take to the skies. They flew their usual route, a relatively short circle before heading back. With the wind flowing at his face, Sev felt nice up there. He understood why Kade would come up here every morning. The rest of the world would feel so insignificant, no other problems existed up there. When they landed, he was smiling, and Kade looked at him with a fond expression.

"I did it," he said, feeling like a little child.

"Yeah, you did."

And then Kade gave him a kiss, and it made him feel all mushy inside. No matter how many times they'd kissed, he would never get used to the warm feeling.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Days and nights had passed by, and Sev was beginning to lose track of the time. It was a routine every day, but it was helpful. The both of them needed this routine after everything.

The next break came when a few people came in. They looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't recall where. They introduced themselves, and said that they had lived in Hillsbridge before that final attack, but had always wanted to return. They offered to help with the rebuilding process, so once again, they had more people.

•~•~•~•~•

"Your full name is Sevro, right?" A woman- Ameliya asked him one day.

"Yes, why?"

"Were you the son of Alys and Sevono Lastlight?"

It'd been a while since he had heard the name of his parents.

"I never knew them personally," she continued. "My mother said she knew them. And that she knew you too, so I was curious to see what you were like. You helped Queen Veronyka a lot, I heard. I think your parents would be proud of you."

"Thank you," he told her. "That means a lot." It really did.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Most of them had worked on the houses, but Ameliya and one of the others had decided to work on the farming instead. After all, Hillsbridge had been known for their farming community. Getting a farm set up would also take a long time, since everything had to grow.

But each day that passed was more progress. The more houses that were set up, the more people that began to move in. Some were people who had been there before, others new to the city and its history. They were still a relatively small group, but larger than before.

But their efforts were paying off, and Sev was able to recognize a few people. Whether from the attack or before, he wasn't sure, but he still recognized them.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Ameliya, you said that your sibling was a jeweler, right?" Sev asked when there was no one else around.

She nodded. "Yes. What do you need from them?"

Sev looked away, feeling his skin flush. "A ring."

Understanding flashed in her brown eyes. "Oh, I see. Do you know how large his fingers is?"

He looked at his own hand. "Larger than mine?"

She laughed. "I'll figure it out."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Look at everyone Sev," Kade said beside him. "It hasn't felt this lively since before everything. Almost like the older times."

"Yes," he agreed. "We've come so far. It feels just like home."

"This is our home," Kade reminded him. "You and Hillsbridge, this is our home."

Sev smiled at him. This would have been a really nice time to ask the question, but the band wasn't finished yet. He'd have to ask Ameliya about it.

He also remembered some of what Kade had told him about his past. How he didn't have a home, how Hillsbridge had been the first place he'd felt so welcomed.

"It'll always be our home," Sev promised. "We've got our memories from before, and we'll make new ones."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Ever since Sev had received the ring- it was surprisingly cheap, but Ameliya's sibling insisted that he had a discount for all of his efforts- he'd been fidgeting with the box in his pocket.

"I've been thinking about the future," Kade said abruptly.

"What about it?" He asked, hoping that his eagerness wouldn't show too much. He had to consciously stop himself from reaching into his pocket, or Kade would end up noticing.

"I've wanted a daughter for a long time," he admitted. "But I was thinking that I want to raise more than one child. Something similar to what your parents had done."

"You want to give children a home, just like you had," Sev guessed.

Kade nodded sheepishly. "What do you think about it?"

"I think... I think I like that idea."

This was the perfect time. Don't back out now. He told himself, reaching for the box.

"Kade," he murmured. "A lot has happened in these two years. The biggest being that I met you. I was lost and angry and selfish, but you taught me how to be a hero. You've been with me for this long, as both a friend and lover, and I hope that you continue to stay with me for longer." They were both sitting next to each other, but still, he kneeled anyway. He was pleased at Kade's flustered expression. He took it as encouragement and took the box out and opened it.

"Kade, will you marry me?"

The smile that broke out was the most precious thing that he had ever seen.

"Of course, Sev." He extended his hand, and Sev put the ring on it.

Then they kissed, sitting on a hill underneath the moonlight, occasionally illuminating reds and golds from the phoenix soaring above them.

•~•~•~•~•~•

They started extending their house in order to create the orphanage. It didn't take too long, but then they had to make sure there was enough beds and other basic necessities.

They had made some of the wedding plans, and were finally going to go through with them.

"Veronyka, Tristan, the other riders, Hestia," Kade listed. "Am I missing anyone else?"

Sev shrugged. "I don't think so."

Most of the other people that they had met had either died, or they were unsure as to where they would be now. But the people invited were those that they were closest to.

The two of them had briefly left Hillsbridge to visit Aura Nova. They both knew that Veronyka would be busy, which was why they wanted to schedule a date that suited her. When they had arrived, Veronyka was beaming, and was even happier to know that they planned to get married.

"In Hillsbridge, right?"

They both nodded.

"We'll be there. I think I can manage to be away for a few days, next month."

That was the agreed date.

•~•~•~•~•~•

When the wedding day had come, Sev was both nervous and at ease at the same time. Because this was it, he would pledge his life to Kade's, and Kade's to him. They would be partners for life.

Tristan and a few of his friends had stayed with him, just to make sure that he was doing okay. Their presence did help, along with Hestia who acted as his mother during the ceremony.

The ceremony itself wasn't that huge, despite the company that was there. They stated their vows, pledged their eternal loyalty to each other, and then they were married. There was dancing and phoenix lightshows, but after everything, it was just the two of them- Luxuna gave them the privacy that they needed.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Two weeks after that, Sev and Kade opened their orphanage. The first child had arrived quite quickly, but it wasn't surprising, since many people had died.

It was a little girl named Adarra, with light hair and dull brown eyes. She hardly ever smiled. The both of them understood that this would take time, that it would never be easy, but it seemed like Kade took it a little more personally.

"She's usually quiet, but she ended up snapping at me. What do I do?" Kade whispered, clinging on to Sev's hand. "Do you think that we're good parents?"

He hadn't sounded so unsure in a while, and he was usually the one who was reasonable. But now wasn't the case.

"She's lost a lot. And this is our first time. We're going to get better, and she's going to trust us," Sev promised. "We'll show her that we truly care for her. We can't give up on her now. That would break her."

He nodded slightly. "I think you're right."

It took a while, but Adarra finally warmed up to them. They'd realized that she wasn't comfortable speaking in general, so they instead worked out ways to communicate non-verbally. It worked out, and before they knew it, she was starting to smile.

Another kid named Robyn had them approached them, but they were a lot different. Adarra was reserved, but they were energetic. Robyn spoke a lot. Sev and Kade had to adjust to this, learning about the different ways that people react, the different ways that they would display their emotions.

The two of them were exhausting, but when they interacted with each other, smiling, both Sev and Kade knew that they didn't want any future that was different than this one.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sev nearly stumbled out of the orphanage door. Kade was about to give the kids breakfast, but Lidiya had decided that it was a good idea to run off, so Sev had to look for her.

"Lidiya!" He called out.

When there was no answer, he ran around, looking to see if the little girl was running around Hillsbridge. But after no sign of her, he ran back inside to find Kade. Said man was busy fussing with their hair of one of the children.

"Kade, help, I can't find our child."

Kade turned to face him really fast. "What do you mean you can't find our child? You lost Lidiya?"

Before Sev could reply to that question, he was interrupted by yelling.

"I'm on the roof! But now I'm stuck!"

Kade took a deep breath. "Sev, I'm leaving you here with the children. Do not lose them. I'll be right back."

"That's rude!" He replied.

Lidiya was brought back a few minutes later, and the children were giggling at Sev.

"Kade, they won't be able to take me seriously anymore! This is embarrassing!"

Kade rolled his eyes but smiled. "Well next time, don't lose the child."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Because this is a different Fandom, its a different taglist. So no taglist yet.

But if you want to join, just let me know!

[ladyoflosgar]

GOT showverse AU, Sansa marries Domeric instead of Ramsay

Some wordvomit on how using Domeric would smoothly integrate the North and Vale plotlines and wouldn’t stray as far from book!Sansa’s (and also Littlefinger’s) character after the cut. Warning that as Domeric is a Harry stand-in who was dead in the original anyway, he was doomed from the start.

I didn’t watch season 6 or season 7 because I ragequit at the Sansa/Ramsay wedding episode, I just know memes like “battle of the bastards” and “poisoned by his enemies”. Also I know nothing about what happened to the southern storylines until Dany showed up at Winterfell in S8. I’m a book gal. 

Marrying Sansa to Domeric instead of Ramsay makes Littlefinger less stupid. This could go along similar lines as the Harry the Heir plot: instead of raising the Vale against the Boltons now that Tywin Lannister is dead and the Crown is weakened, Littlefinger could come to a deal with Roose to get him friends in the Vale instead of enemies. Littlefinger would then exploit the chaos of battle with Stannis/the existing tensions between Roose, Ramsay and Domeric to off each of them in some order, after Sansa has safely borne a child, after which he would become the power behind the North. Domeric is also a cultured nobleman with a good reputation as a tourney knight instead of a bastard serial rapist so it wouldn’t come across as a critical research failure on Littlefinger’s part.

How would we incorporate Domeric into the Game of Thrones story up to S4/5? You would need to introduce him in S1 at the Eyrie when Cat and Tyrion show up. Maybe before, during the Tourney of the Hand. When Cat is about to leave, give him a scene where he says “my lady, I would fight for you, I am a Stark man through and through” and Cat tells him, “ser, you would be of better service to House Stark here in the Vale, speaking for our cause”. In S2-S3 have Cat read dispatches from him about how Lysa isn’t being helpful, the knights of the Vale won’t march without her leave, etc. This would build up trust in the Boltons and kind of justify why Robb gives so much control over to Roose, and amplify the gut wrenching horror of the Red Wedding.

Begin the Sansa Bolton arc. By S4 when Littlefinger shows up with Sansa at the Eyrie we could have a scene with Domeric and Lord Royce (because they cut Lord Redfort) where Domeric says something like “what a family I have, my father the kingslayer, and my brother a would-be kinslayer”. Give him an angstbro moment where he is dejected because his father undid all the work he put in, give him the need to go on a redemption quest for something he wasn’t involved in. After Lysa dies when Lord Royce goes up to the Eyrie, give him a fluffy moment with “Alayne Stone” where he’s playing the harp alone and she sings along or something. Then at a feast, Lord Royce says his name, and Alayne flinches back, he mutters ‘even the novices at the motherhouse curse the name of Bolton’. Then he watches her and figures out that she’s Sansa Stark. He talks to Lord Royce about it, Lord Royce doesn’t believe him, and then the conversation with Sansa and Lady Waynwood happens where she outs herself. Then Littlefinger, Lord Royce, and Roose go into talks. Have Littlefinger recycle the “bewitch him” line he used in the TWOW sample chapter.

Preserve intrigue/suspense at Winterfell by pushing forward the Ramsay & Domeric Cain and Abel plot and make Domeric a player in the Northern conspiracy. Have Sansa use her observation skills to figure out what he’s doing. Have Domeric not involve Sansa in the GNC because 1) he saw her kissing Littlefinger and discuss their plan and 2) it’s about bringing back Rickon and he doesn’t want Littlefinger to know. Turn him into a paranoiac - ‘everyone at Winterfell is trying to kill me except for my dad, who I hate’. Have his opinion of Sansa sour while her opinion of him grows. Domeric’s suspicion of Sansa would also seed the Northern lords’ reluctance to follow her: they believe she is Littlefinger’s creature. Bonus: Sansa’s latent warging ability manifests in Ramsay’s hounds and she learns more about the intrigue at Winterfell.

Leadup to the Battle of Ice. Conflict swirls between the pro-Roose (+Ramsay) and pro-Domeric (Manderly/Stannis) camps at Winterfell. Too many men and mouths to feed, Roose needs to get them out to deal with Stannis. Sansa and Theon flee into the night, to Stannis. Jon receives the pink letter at the wall (but to add mystery, it’s probably not Domeric who wrote it). Mel and Selyse don’t believe it, they burn Shireen to grant Stannis victory, instead they resurrect Jon into wight!Jon. Confusion in the battle because Stannis has Sansa. Maybe Ramsay does something gloriously stupid like kill Stannis in a parley (let’s keep Brienne on the Arya plot) and now the Northmen just have to crush Team Dragonstone. Or, the conlfrontation ends without resolution, Stannis nopes back to the Wall, finds Shireen dead and his wife a depressed husk, and an heroes. Huge blow to the GNC, they all ride back to Winterfell in shame.

Ousting Littlefinger, the fall of the House of Bolton, Sansa vs Jon conflict. Knowing that the lords of the North still want the Boltons gone but won’t include her because of Littlefinger, Sansa’s attention needs to be on disentangling herself. She also has a personal motivation to be rid of him because he is a creep who keeps forcekissing her, and he killed Lysa. In the end I think Harry will grow on Alayne/Sansa at least a little bit, so Domeric has to grow on Sansa too. This is just a wordvomit so I don’t know all of the logical steps but Sansa needs to get rid of Littlefinger by herself without making herself look too bad by outing him to the Lords of the Vale and help Domeric get rid of Ramsay while Ramsay’s about to arrange a hunting accident, perhaps by warging into a dog. Domeric’s arc would be about Roose so he’d need to be the one to play the poisoned by his enemies card. Now that Sansa and Domeric are working as a team, enter Jon, stage right, dark!Wight with a wildling army to rescue his sister. Noone can find Rickon (shaggy dog story). Half the Lords of the North still want a son of Ned Stark, and like Lyanna Mormont said, “Lady Sansa’s a Bolton now” and Domeric is a kinslayer. Stark Bowl, get hype, it’s a Northern civil war. The Knights of the Vale come in to bail Domeric out but it’s too late. The Northmen make Jon KITN because that’s what happens in the show and also he killed Domeric, and they are still reluctant for a ruling Lady Stark without a husband. It was a real tragedy because this is Westeros. Now it’s time for the White Walkers and Daenerys plot.

Impact on Sansa’s character. At the end of the day I don’t think show!Sansa and book!Sansa are the same. IMO steered in a different direction from the girl who led the women in the Queen’s Ballroom signing hymns to the Mother, who asked for a maester for Lancel, and sang the Mother’s hymn to Sandor during the Battle of the Blackwater. The sass queen who goes “uncle, sit” to Edmure Tully is not the same person who helpfully finishes stuttery Wallace Waynwood’s sentences and spares him further embarrassment. This might be naive but I hope GRRM is going to have her retain her kindness, her mercy, her goodness while having her do things that are genuinely grey (her role in whatever happens to Sweetrobin for example). She would express regret, just as she expresses regret for outing Ned to Cersei. If her endgame fate is to end up alone, and not with someone brave and gentle and strong who loves her for her and fulfills a beauty and the beast metaphor, then I think the role Harry (Domeric here) would have played in her narrative is to have made her come to regret using someone as a piece on the board rather than treating them as a person valuable in and of themselves, with their own hopes and dreams and flaws and virtues. It happened to me, I did it to someone else, I am sorry, etc.

Thanks for reading my badfic outline. 

[wynja2007]

Gondolin, the Hidden

Chapter One: Birth

The birth of any City requires the blood of three individuals; a woman in childbirth, a warrior, an old person. This is the real reason there were few elven cities; elves were created immortal, and although childbirth and battle hold similar risks for elves as for humankind, old age is not something they know, just the weariness of ages.

Beautiful Tirion of the musical voice, he was born from the wisdom and sacrifice of one of the Maia, who foresaw the need for Cities, who had heard them sung softly in the Song of Creation, but it had been a brief threnody, growing stronger only when the theme of the rise of Men joined the melody. This one had thought it worth his life to take age upon himself and sit in the tallest tower of the city until the weight of his borrowed years crumbled him to dust that blew away through the open windows to be carried in the high winds across the land. Some settled like a blessing on the streets of Tirion, sparkling and glinting gold in the corners, for this was where his heart had ever dwelt.

(But some of his life force carried across the continent to fall elsewhere, to prepare the ground for further sacrifices).

The mother of Fëanor, Míriel Serindë, died shortly after he was born, but the deliberate sacrifice of all her strength to pour it into her fine, bright, doomed son began sooner, so that it was childbirth, his birth that began the process which took her life, and her essence of death was caught by the Maian sacrifice and mingled in the earth, waiting for the birth of the City. A son of Tirion, new to weapons and armour, died at Alqualondë, defending his friends amongst the shipbuilders, weeping as he saw friend turned against friend, brother against brother, and prayed for an end to kinslaying. (The same events saw the birth of Alqualondë from the ashes and flotsam of its broken fleet just a few days later, while Valmar, first of cities in Valinor, was last to gain her personification in the darkness following the silencing of the lamps.)

The Maia’s sacrifice, then, gave three cities the chance to grow and thrive. But this story concerns Gondolin, firstborn city of Middle Earth.

*

He was nearly born from the ice.

So many deaths, so much emotion, such need, calling out to anyone who might help, the sense of knowing the help sought would not come. The despair, the need, the need.

He stirred in Vinyamar, turning and stretching and testing out the bounds of the dark womb around him, but something held him back, some power outside himself, something with pity in its heart and awareness of his nascent agitation.

Finally, though, it was on the plain of Tumladen when the land shook, and shook, and shook that finally he broke free of the earth and stretched and stood tall, bewildered and exhausted from his difficult gestation and long-deferred birth.

Around him was a wide spread of the greenest grass, crossed with rivulets and streams. Above, the sky was unbearably blue and the sun was warm on his naked back. Around his feet, bursts of colour; Larkspur in bloom.

He felt a tug, a yearning in his heart, and started to turn, seeking the source, allowing his gaze to roam the landscape. There!

In the middle of the plain, walls of sheer stone rose up, forbidding and stern, beckoning, crowned with the towers and turrets and fine-made walls of Gondolin itself. Young as he was, new as he was, he could taste the people, their hopes and fears, their loves and their rivalries, the sense of relief, the sense of dread, and he saw himself reaching out to nurture them…

He smiled and set off towards the cliffs.

*

‘My lord? Can you come? There is something happening.’

Ecthelion, Lord of the House of the Singing Fountains and Captain of the Great Gate nodded and picked up his helm. He followed the sentry from his office – in reality a desk outside the armoury – through the passageways to the lookout point. His companions jokingly referred to it as ‘The Eyrie’, but such an appellation always made Ecthelion shiver; his friend Glorfindel spoke often of how he thought they were not so much blessed by visits from the eagles, birds of Manwë, as spied upon by them…

He repressed a shudder. They were all on edge, the secret city barely finished, the people still so recently arrived that sometimes they missed their way, still, nothing was familiar yet, nothing felt safe and so anything out of the ordinary was a cause for concern. The earthquake, in the night; had it been a warning? A sign that Morgoth was moving in the depths of the earth far away, sending his evil through the ground to shake them, to seek them out…?

There had been deaths that some said boded ill; a warrior, injured on the way and grimly hanging on to life, his wounds healing and breaking, had finally succumbed to injury and breathed his last on the plain. Then an elleth nobody had known was here had fallen, somehow, from the walls, and the saddest thing, the saddest thing, was that she had been about to give birth, but it was too late; the child had quickened, and died before any help could come. Ecthelion made a mental note to try to find a faster way down to the plain than the current system of tunnels and stairs and slopes with defensive corners and reminded himself he was not a superstitious elf, he knew a sign from the Valar would not come as an earthquake or an unexpected death, but as a formal, direct approach, a message or a visitation. After all, there had been another death, that of one of the oldest, earliest-born elves, who had travelled to Valinor and back again, and who had become world-weary and had said surely, this was what it felt to be old, and had faded, just two days ago. No. Not all deaths were bad, sad though they were for elves.

Ecthelion pulled his long, black hair back out of the way with one hand and passed under the archway that led to the lookout post before sliding his helm into place with the other; it was a fine piece of workmanship, decorative and elegant, and part of the uniform, but it was also topped with a high silver spike that sometimes got in the way and to constantly scrape it against the stonework was embarrassing.

At the lookout, the sentry saluted smartly, hand on heart, and stood aside. Ecthelion passed through to find the narrow ledge crammed with his warriors, all with bows drawn, arrows nocked and trained on a figure that seemed to be erupting from the greensward.

Ecthelion caught his breath; they were all jittery, fearing discovery, exposure. The king’s standing orders were to shoot first and question later; but there was something about the way this individual moved, the way Ecthelion’s heart had lifted…

‘Sir?’ The voice of the captain of the archers was tremulous, tight. ‘Orders, sir?’

Ecthelion stared at the figure. Tall, strong, gleaming in the sunlight with golden hair that shimmered and fell in waves to his waist, naked and obviously unarmed, he had begun to move slowly towards the cliffs below the lookout post. Slowly, but not cautiously; it was more that the individual was unused to walking, his feet sliding through the grass as if the landscape was flowing around him, carrying him forward.

As if he was part of the land…

Something, an unconscious connection in Ecthelion’s mind…

‘Send for Lord Glorfindel.’

‘Sir?’

The captain was right to question him; it was against standing orders, the stranger, by rights, should be lying dead and bleeding on the plain by now. But…

‘Keep your weapons on him, but do not fire yet. I think this is not an enemy.’

*

The message: ‘The Captain of the Great Gate demands your attendance, my lord,’ found Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, in the midst of debating with his sisters on the merits of yellow over blue as a colour for the Festival of Spring, so that it was with some relief that he headed out. He paused to collect his sword and helm, slung his bright red cloak across his shoulders, and was on his way to the Great Gate before his sisters even had time to complain.

He had time on the way to consider the summons from his friend, his more-than-friend Ecthelion; the formality, the use of his military title rather than his name or even his House title made it clear that this was not a social invitation. Ah, well. Thel’s duty tour was over soon, and there’d be time then to meet and dine and talk and all that could follow after…

He did not blink as he went from bright sunlight to dark, torch-lit passages as he entered the tunnels leading to the Gate, his eyes adjusting easily, but he did slow his pace as he considered the wording of the summons again. Not a social invitation, fine. But… it was odd. There was no strategic reason that Glorfindel should be needed here; if it was something serious, then Turgon, the king, should be informed. So why call him…?

Well. He’d soon find out.

*

‘Lord Glorfindel, there you are. Take a look and tell me what you make of this, would you?’

No friendly greeting, no ‘Hullo, Findel, old friend,’ no wink, no touch of hand on arm… but even as he assessed this, Findel was making his way to Ecthelion’s side. Together, they looked out.

Glorfindel spoke first.

‘Company?’

The stranger was closer now, so much nearer to the wall that the angle at which the archers had to hold their bows had steepened. One or two of the guards were glancing anxiously at their captain as they strained to keep the target clearly in sight.

‘Apparently so,’ Ecthelion said in an almost-laconic tone. ‘Remind you of anyone? Anything?’

‘The hair, could be mine…’

‘Don’t flatter yourself!’ A whisper, a flash of a grin that made Findel stifle a laugh as Ecthelion continued. ‘He broke free from the greensward and has been making his way towards us steadily ever since.’

The stranger was near enough now to make out features, details. His ears had the pointed tips that all elves had; his eyes seemed to shine and glow and there was something to him that reminded Findel of a long-ago, long-missed lord…

‘Tirion. He reminds me of Tirion the Fair.’ Findel gave a half-sigh, half-laugh. ‘I had thought him a Maia at first, until they explained to me that he was the City, its heart and fëa, walking amongst us.’

Ecthelion nodded. ‘I never met any of the Valinor Cities, but I remembered your descriptions of Tirion the Fair. What do you think?’

‘I think…’ Glorfindel paused, thinking. Every city had its City in Valinor, of course, the embodiment of the settlement, its soul, its streets, its people’s fëar all wrapped up and walking about through its own byways and highways. ‘If he is, then your arrows won’t kill him. But if he’s… what? Newly hatched, newborn? He could be angry, and although he may be vulnerable, he will still be dangerous. And besides, do you think it’s polite to make our first action on meeting him to shoot at him? Turgon’s standing orders be blowed, I think we need to talk to this fellow first, at least. Maybe offer him a pair of leggings before we all go cross-eyes from trying not to look…’

Behind Findel, one of the watch suppressed an anxious laugh; others took it up and a glance around showed several of the archers grinning; the tension was broken, at least.

‘Very well. Send to Stores, spare tunic and leggings…’

‘Extra-long,’ Findel said. ‘And probably extra-large, too.’

*

They argued in official, formal tones about who should take the garments.

‘This is my watch, my lord Glorfindel,’ Ecthelion pointed out. ‘It is my duty, and my responsibility, to investigate.’

‘Yet we all know that if you do so, you will be countermanding your orders, Lord Captain of the Great Gate. This is not my watch-post, and therefore while you may protest my actions, your life would not be forfeit for such disobedience. Nor would mine, since I am simply investigating, and the archers are watching with you in command of them.’

‘Yet the paths and tunnels running to the plain are many and finding the quickest way will be difficult for you; I have the knowledge to reach this… individual more swiftly.’

Suddenly Findel relaxed, grinning.

‘Oh, I know a faster way than the tunnels,’ he said, and vaulted over the parapet wall, the bundled garments tucked under one arm.

Gasps from the guard. Ecthelion shook his head, striding forward to look.

‘The Lord of the Golden Flower has not jumped to his doom, never fear,’ he admonished them. ‘Make way, there!’

Glorfindel was seated on a narrow ledge just below the wall, booted feet dangling over the void as if he cared not a jot for the danger. He glanced up and back at Ecthelion, grinning.

‘If this is our City,’ he said, ‘I’ve nothing to fear. Watch him carefully… Ai, but he looks so young! See how blue his eyes are? Bluer than mine, even!’

‘Never!' Echtelion leaned forward to whisper in Findel’s ear. 'Never was there anyone, nor will be anyone, with eyes as blue as yours, my lord of the Golden Flower!’

Glorfindel grinned, but continued. ‘…And freckles, whoever heard of an elf with freckles…?’

Lifting a hand, he waved to the probable-City.

‘Greetings, down there!’ he called out. ‘I wish to parley, may I join you?’

*

Things were happening; people were clustering, there were… things… sharp, pointy things… arrows, directed towards him. He felt the intention, the wariness, sensed the leader’s hesitation, his unwillingness to take life without need. Compassion. It was good, good that one of the first emotions he felt from his people was compassion; somehow, he felt it would form him into a compassionate city…

…but there was fear, and weariness of fear, and he could also sense that these, his people, had been afraid for a long time.

He continued on his slow progress towards the cliffs.

A new arrival, a golden, shining figure, and he felt his heart swell and reach out; this one, whoever he might be, he was precious, he was beloved, he was dear to someone… he mattered…

The golden person jumped over the wall and sat, apparently unconcerned about the drop beneath; he could feel that, sense it even as he was aware of curiosity and intelligence, warmth and friendliness. A lifted hand, a wave, a call…

He waved back, looked at the rocks of the cliff and thought of how a person might get from a ledge to the ground in safety. The rocks shifted, slurred, melted and reformed into a stepped pathway down which the friendly golden creature could descend.

A murmur from the watchers above, but the golden one was descending, unfazed by the sudden stairway’s appearance.

The new-born City waited, a stirring of impatience troubling him. But above, there were still pointed things aimed towards him; although he felt strong enough to withstand such minor things as they seemed, and the intent behind them was not malicious, it seemed right to wait here until he knew more.

So much was still unknown, just guesses at the edge of knowledge.

Finally the figure reached the lower steps, jumped down the last two.

‘Hullo! I’m Glorfindel,’ he said, smiling, and there was no doubting the warmth behind the words, the… wonderful, happy feeling… ‘Here; some clothes for you. It’s a bright day, but still a little cool and we didn’t know if you’d be like an elf, or impervious, or what. So. Welcome to Gondolin… you are our City, I take it?’

‘Gondolin. I am Gondolin.’ The new City took the garments, shook them, tried to work them out. ‘This is Gondolin?’

‘This is Tumladen the plain surrounding the city. Look, here, this… you step in, one leg in each side. Sit down, might be easier.’

Gondolin frowned, concentrating, finding out the ways of the clothes. The leg coverings tied in front, and the tunic tied at the neck, and the fabric felt strange against his skin, confining.

‘I am Gondolin. Where are my spires, my towers, my fountains? Ah, I can feel them I can… there are markets and wide squares, armouries and fine houses… it is beautiful!’

‘Well, we like it,’ the golden one said.

Gondolin turned to him, taking him in.

‘Glorfindel. Golden hair, you are beautiful. Bright blue eyes and elegant ears. Strong but not heavy with muscle. You are a fine person.’

Glorfindel laughed.

‘Well, you’re not so bad yourself, you know. Better hair than me, bluer eyes, although Ecthelion says otherwise.’

‘Ecthelion?’

The City repeated the name, taking into himself all that he could sense of the bright warrior in Glorfindel’s heart. It was like to his own emotional response to Glorfindel, and he wondered if he would feel for all his citizens as he did now, if it were a normal, usual thing.

‘Yes, Ecthelion, Lord of the Great Gate, amongst other things. You know, you could have got into awful trouble, emerging like that, if it hadn’t been him on duty today; I’ve talked to him of my City, Tirion – my first City, that is. You’re my City now. But what I mean is, there are orders… to protect the city, that’s all, but that all strangers should be… forbidden entry and… not allowed to leave.’

‘This is a riddle. How can one not leave and yet not be admitted?’

Glorfindel shrugged. ‘Orders are for the guards to shoot first and ask questions afterwards…’

‘Another riddle, Glorfindel. For how…?’ Gondolin felt the hard meaning of the phrase, the sense of regret from the glowing, beautiful elf before him, and understood. ‘They would not harm me. No ordinary weapon could harm me.’

‘Well, no. Probably not. But you’re… new. I understand that newborn Cities are more fragile than those who are established. Anyway, that doesn’t matter, what matters is that Thel – Ecthelion, knew of Tirion through me, and wondered it perhaps you were our Gondolin.’ Glorfindel smiled, but his eyes were anxious. ‘Do you mind waiting here while I tell him it’s all right? Then he’ll send for Turgon, probably, our king, and… oh, you’re probably hungry and thirsty. You wait here, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

‘I…’ Gondolin frowned, puzzled at how suddenly he did not want Glorfindel to leave, at how much he wanted to stay at his side. Realisation dawned. ‘I love you, beautiful Glorfindel.’

Glorfindel smiled and twisted his shoulders, as if he felt awkward.

‘I love you, too. Or I will; you’re my City. And you’ll love all of us; we’re your people. So that’s all right, then. Only it might take a little time, with some of them. It’s been a long and hard road to get here.’

*

‘So…?’ Ecthelion asked as Glorfindel vaulted over the wall and onto the watch platform.

‘If this were my command, I’d stand them down. We have ourselves a City.’ He grinned suddenly, shaking his head as he saw the blank expressions on many of the guard. ‘What that means, essentially, is that Gondolin – or Gondolin, our new city – is important enough, vital enough, that it’s become personified; that individual down there, on the Tumladen – he is our City. He will walk with us, talk with us, share our fears and hopes, support our king. He will feel our pain, and he will strengthen our walls, he will care for us and we will care for him, and we will be the stronger for that. Now, someone should take meat and drink to our City, he will be hungry and he’ll want to meet you all as soon as possible. And if I may make a suggestion, we should send to Lord Turgon and give him the joyful news.’

‘And it is a matter of joy because…?’

Glorfindel clapped Ecthelion briefly on the shoulder, his eyes shining.’

‘Because, my dear Captain of the Great Gate, Cities don’t just happen at random; this means that Gondolin is here to stay!’

Notes:

With grateful thanks and acknowledgement to thecitysmith for permission to take their wonderful idea from 'Paris Burning' and re-imagine it for Tolkien's Legendarium. As well as the stories here on AO3, many wonderful tales for this inventive and fascinating new concept can be found on tumblr.

This story is in no way connected to, or dependent on, the amazing 'Hands of stone or hands of tallow' by consumptive_sphinx and our concepts of the City are a little different. But read it, read it anyway.

[beholdthewatcher]

Statement #01202003b

Continuing from Statement #01202003a, itself a continuation of the Cullenfield Incident. Recorded by subject 20/03/2020.

Marcus looked through the nearest window we could find, first. The bar was a wreck, not to put too fine a point on it, as though a bar brawl had happened with absolutely no patrons to cause such a ruckus. All the barstools were knocked over and seemed to have been rendered that way on purpose, and loose change positively littered the floor. There was no sign of our quarry--until there was, by way of a very large paw that I saw throw another barstool.

We ran for the front door after that, as Dewey was very obviously under attack by the coin that had been, up until some moments prior, inert in his cash register. Having something of a routine down, I quickly switched on my flashlight, revealing the full form of what was now our decidedly less-than-wolf-shaped wolf, which then shrunk in size under the light, going from some gargantuan abomination to the slightly more manageable size of a wolf. It had somewhere between four and twenty limbs; I would give a more accurate estimate if I could, yet the whole of this Shadow Creature shifted and reformed itself on a whim, a trait which became more immediately clear after I became its most pressing nuisance; Though it had Dewey pinned down on the floor by his shoulder, it shifted its form along some unseen axis to pin its focus on me.

Rather predictably, it lashed out with one of its appendages and hit me in the stomach--while it hurt and left a positively nasty bruise that later made breathing difficult, it wasn’t life-threatening. Marcus then shot it, which prompted little by way of reaction save for reverberations that rippled through the wolf’s entire body. While a retaliatory strike was likely, I didn’t see it from my position on the ground.

I called out that we needed to get more light on the wolf, intending the directive for Marcus, as he knew precisely why the light was important. As luck would have it, however, it was Mr. Dewey who, lacking the wolf’s focus on him, escaped and rather gleefully announced that he could help. He threw on his establishment’s lights, causing the wolf to shrink both further and more rapidly. Marcus shot it again for good measure, which prompted our small, shadow-abomination friend to crawl under a lip of the counter to hide.

Peering underneath, we were thankfully greeted with only the sight of a coin, which Marcus promptly took into the back alley to dispose of while I dealt with Dewey. It was easy to convince him not to spread word of these Shadow Creatures, as his wrecked bar and the trauma of brushing up against Death in a waltz of shadow and fang was...plenty to keep his mind occupied. 

I helped him tidy as best I could, mopping, sweeping, and righting a few barstools as he washed out the taste of fearful vomit from his mouth with one of the plethora of drinks in his bar.

I had just set the broom back in whatever cleaning closet I’d gotten it from when I received a call from Mr. Stubin. He sounded worse for the wear as he relayed the fact he was currently holed up in Mr. Cobb’s carpentry store. The details weren’t entirely clear, but it seemed as though Mr. Cobb himself had one of the coins under a great deal of light in some back room, with another one of the Shadow Creatures lurking in the store itself. Being that this accounted for the two coins Marcus and I had yet to track down, I rushed out the back door and dragged Marcus by his arm, charting a course to Mr. Cobb’s store.

Arriving there and looking through the glass storefront at a distance, there was no sign of activity within like there had been at the Crossroads. Trying the front door was more of a formality than anything, though even as we realized it was rather predictably locked, I noticed the glint of pieces of metal, brass in color, scattered across the ground. It was hard to make out, though I theorized they were bullet casings based off of the coloring.

We then made our way into the store by way of a brutalized back door. Moving through the store, I was given the opportunity to realize the brass glint were whole bullets, not just the casings. Sadly, they weren’t of use to Marcus, but we did notice light spilling from a crack under a door, making the location of Mr. Stubin and Mr. Cobb clear. After all, if I were under siege by an unknown number of these Shadow Creatures, I would say a room full of bright light would be the perfect place to bunker down.

Our intent had been for Marcus to open the door to the light room, with myself minding the store as a pair of eyes at the back. Clearly I haven’t learned from the many books I’ve read where heroes, hunters, and protagonists alike get ambushed from something hiding on the ceiling, because that’s precisely what happened: one moment I was raising my flashlight to sweep the shop, the next I’m being shoved backward by Marcus and watching as he falls to the floor. His leg, which was already in rough shape from our previous fights that evening, made...a decidedly unpleasant sound as he connected with the floor. 

I’m only mostly ashamed to admit that I rushed in rather thoughtlessly after that, some foolish part of me thinking I could defend Marcus with naught but a particularly heavy flashlight. It didn’t seem to do much damage save for more of that rippling, and I promptly put some distance between myself and it once it became clear that Marcus was going to try and get up to fight again. In short order, I heard the door to the back room open, the sounds of a struggle, a worrying crunch, and the report of a firearm. Spurred into action by the latter, and trying to prevent any further harm, I located the nearest lightswitch and raced towards it. As my hand flicked the switch, a tendril of darkness speared through it. Not as bad as it could have been, perhaps, and I was more concerned with the increase in reverb--two waves, which met and caused some...resistance. Mr. Stubin shot that spot, and the creature folded under that tension. It slipped quickly under the counter with the clatter of a coin.

The next several moments were a blur of motion and weariness. Marcus and I realized when we went to burn the coin that I’d jostled his lighter loose in dragging him from the Crossroads; fortunately, Mr. Cobb had a box of matches, and we disposed of it accordingly. Mr. Cobb likewise called an ambulance for Mr. Stubin, whereas Marcus and I limped our way back to the safehouse, but only after I promised to return to help Mr. Cobb keep vigil over his still-lurching coin, which he refused to part with.

I helped Marcus reset his leg. He needs rest, more than anything, but he should be fine. I believe his condition affords him a measure of healing, but I’m not entirely certain; another question to ask him...whenever it becomes an appropriate time to interrogate my brother about that.

Levi had sent me an email two hours prior with urgency--we were to return to the Eyrie as quickly as we could, pending the completion of our assignment. Once I’d sent him a reply assuring him we’d do just that, I left Marcus to rest, then returned to Mr. Cobb’s furniture store. He was kind enough to offer me a beer, despite the fact it was only 5:20 in the morning local time. The time passed with little more than our two pairs of eyes sitting in silence, nursing wounds and beers alike as the coin and the orb of shadow around it shuddered and lurched, trying in vain to free itself.

At 6:30 local time, the orb shuddered once more, then fell back into itself, becoming a coin. We tapped a copper nail into it; with each hit the coin shuddered and seemed to grow...lighter. Brighter, even.

And then it was done. Almost anticlimactic, were it not for all that came before.  

Convincing Mr. Stubin to come with us to the Eyrie was less of an ordeal than getting past hospital security. From there it was a matter of several uneventful- if awkward- days of travel before we were within Westboro and the eyes of my family crest again.

Our family crest; Marcus is to be considered now. I hope.

[End of Part 2.]

-Arden ⊙ Multa pars, una veritas.

[roominthecastle]

what are your favorite petyr quotes? book vs show

Wow, anon, you’re NOT making this easy for me AT ALL. oh lorde, there are so many.

ok, quotes from the books that sadly did not make it into the show: I love all the “classics” that artworks often utilize, e.g.

“Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow.”

“Is it all lies, forever and ever, everyone and everything?”“Almost everyone. Save you and I, of course.”

“Some lies are love.”

“I know what I know, and so do you. Some things are best left unsaid, sweetling.”

“There are two sorts of people. The players and the pieces. Every man’s a piece to start with, and every maid as well. Even some who think they are players.”

“We shall serve him lies and Arbor gold, and he’ll drink them down and ask for more, I promise you.”

“When you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him.”

“Those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa… Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell. That’s worth another kiss now, don’t you think?”

and some others:

“Try not to fall to your death, Catelyn wouldnever understand.“

“A fool I may be, Stark… yet I’m still here,while your brother has been moldering in his frozen grave for some fourteenyears now. If you are so eager to molder beside him, far it be from me todissuade you, but I would rather not be included in the party, thank you verymuch.”“You would be the last man I would willinglyinclude in any party, Lord Baelish.”“You wound me deeply.”

“I am desperately sentimental, sweet lady. Bestnot tell anyone. I have spent years convincing the court that I am wicked andcruel, and I should hate to see all that hard work go for naught.” Ned believed not a word of that, but he kept his voicepolite as he said, “You have my thanks as well, Lord Baelish.”“Oh, now there’sa treasure,” Littlefinger said, exiting.

“The Lineages and Histories of the GreatHouses of the Seven Kingdoms, With Descriptions of Many High Lords and NobleLadies  and Their Children. Now there is a tedious reading if ever I sawit. A sleeping potion, my lord?““JonArryn was studying this volume when he was taken sick,” Ned said.“Inthat case death must have come as a blessed relief.”

“Ido not trust him.”“Excellent.You’re learning.”

“Evena blind man could see the Hound loathed his brother.”“Ah,but Gregor was his to loath, notyours to kill. I wouldn’t hold my water waiting for his thanks.”

“Isuppose congratulations are in order.”Nedscowled. “The king lies wounded and near to death.”“Iknow.”

“How big a fool do you take me for?”“Well,quite an enormous one, actually.”“Do you always find murder so amusing, Lord Baelish?”“It’snot murder I find amusing, Lord Stark, it’s you. You rule like a man dancing onrotten ice. I daresay you will make a noble splash.”

GrandMaester Pycelle gaped at him, aghast. “Surely you do not mean to suggestthat Lady Selyse would ask a foolinto her bed?”“DoubtlessPatchface reminded her of Stannis.”

“Black brings outmy unhealthy pallor.”“Youlook very elegant today, my lord.”“I’mwounded. I strive to look elegant everyday.”

“Ibelieve Lord Petyr may hold the key to the Eyrie.““Oh,I do. I have it here between my legs.”

“Tidesand brides wait on no man, my lord. Once the autumn storms begin, the voyagewill be much more hazardous. Drowning would definitely diminish my charms as abridegroom.”

“Widowhoodwill become you, Sansa.”

“Itis surprisingly difficult to hide a dwarf, and Joffrey… you can lead a kingto water, but with Joff one had to splash it about before he realized he coulddrink it.”

“LordRobert cannot sleep. He cries…”“…for his mother. That cannot be helped, the wench is dead.”

“Isthat your counsel, maester? That we find a wet nurse for the Lord of the Eyrieand Defender of the Vale? When shall we wean him, on his wedding day? That wayhe can move directly from his nurse’s nipples to his wife’s. No, I think not.”

“Godsforbid they glimpse me near the high seat of the Arryns, they might think thatI mean to sit in it. Cheeks born so low as mine must never aspire to such loftycushions.”

“Inthe game of thrones even the humblest pieces can have wills of their own.Sometimes they refuse to make the moves you’ve planned for them. Mark thatwell, Alayne. It’s a lesson that Cersei Lannister still has yet to learn.”

“Hissister Alys wed Ser Elys Waynwood, uncle to the present Lady Waynwood.” Hemade a wry face. “Elys and Alys. Isn’t that precious?”

… and loads more, really. I could copy/paste every chapter that includes him. He’s one of the most entertaining and intriguing characters I’ve ever encountered, and Aidan was THE perfect casting choice.

the favs from the show (some of these were taken from the books, so I did not include them above): again, a non-exhaustive list

“Ahthe Starks. Quick tempers, slow minds.”

“Distrustingme was the wisest thing you’ve done since you climbed off your horse.”

“WhenI was a child, I was very small. And I come from a little spit of land calledthe Fingers, so you see… it’s an exceedinglyclever nickname.”

“Tellme, Lord Renly, when will you be havingyour friend?”

“Alldesires are valid to a man with a full purse.”

“Brothelsmake a much better investment than ships, I found. Whores rarely sink.”

“I’ll never win. Not that way. That’s their game. Their rules. I’m notgoing to fight them. I’m going to fuck them. That’s what I know. That’s what Iam.”

“Idid warn you not to trust me.”

“Wehave enough wheat for a 5-year winter. If it lasts any longer… we’ll havefewer peasants.”

“Ihate bad investments. They haunt me.”

“Iunderstand that you don’t like me, and, while that saddens me greatly, I do notcome here today seeking your affection.”

“Ifwar were arithmetic, the mathematicians would rule the world.”

“Callme Petyr.”

“Strange,isn’t it. It doesn’t matter what we want, once we get it, then we wantsomething else.”

“Chaosisn’t a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get totry again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb but theyrefuse. They cling to the realm. Or the gods. Or love. Illusions. Only theladder is real. The climb is all there is.”

“Moneybuys a man’s silence for a time. A bolt in the heart buys it forever.”

“Aman with no motive is a man no one suspects. Always keep your foes confused. Ifthey don’t know who you are or what you want, they can’t know what you plan todo next.”

“I don’t want friends like me.”

“Knowyour strengths, use them wisely, and one man can be worth ten thousand.”

“Alot can happen between now and never.”

“Given the opportunity, what do we do to those who’ve hurt the ones welove? In a better world, one where love could overcome strength and duty, youmight have been my child. But we don’t live in that world.“

“Ihave only loved one woman, only one, my entire life… Your sister.”

“Hersuicide shattered us all.”

“Peopledie at their dinner tables. They die in their beds. They die squatting over theirchamber pots. Everybody dies sooner or later. Don’t worry about your death.Worry about your life. Take charge of your life for as long as it lasts.”

“You’vebeen running all your life. Terrible things happen to your family and you weep.You sit alone in a darkened room mourning their fates. You’ve been a bystanderto tragedy from the day they executed your father. Stop being a bystander, doyou hear me? Stop running. There’s no justice in the world. Not unless we makeit. You loved your family. Avenge them.”

“Iknow how hard it is to live with people you despise, believe me.”

“Eventhe most dangerous men can be outmaneuvered. And you’ve learned to maneuverfrom the very best. You’ll be strong without me.”

“Weboth peddle fantasies, Brother Lancel. Mine just happen to beentertaining.”

“One’schoice of companion is a curious thing.“ 

"You,my love, are the future of House Stark.”

“Everyoneis your enemy. Everyone is your friend.”

“Not even a thank you? Ifit weren’t for me, you’d have been slaughtered on that battlefield.”

and last but not least, his last words:

“Iloved you more than anyone. Sansa.”

[longvanishedstars]

The first day of spring // the unfiltered and unedited thoughts of an infj mind.

This time of year makes me feel a lot of things. Four years ago this time of year was that birthday party, driving to the lodge, opening my relationship, falling for him. Last year I woke up on the corner of Venables and Clark out of a years-long slumber and I couldn’t fall back asleep.

 This time of year is pervaded by the sense of cold rain, listening to it falling on the roof of the Eyrie, laying on the floor and watching the heavy leaves drip through the windows. Folding fitted sheets in the rooms above the dining hall with the lights off in the afternoon.

 Cold grey mornings, cold grey afternoons. If green had a smell it would be what was hanging in the air on the days that I felt a change stirring in and around me. Sitting in the sauna, watching the heat mist off of my skin as the rain fell. Watching the fog hang over the lake.

 I know why I’ve been feeling restless lately. Like my skin needs to melt away from my bones so my soul can escape through and burst into a thousand pieces of stardust.

 This is typically a very transformative time of year for me. I feel like my body must remember that. It could be why I was feeling like I was made of sound waves last week—part of the reason. Part recognizing a part of me that needs to change, part of me re-living what I felt this time last year when I left my relationship. Part of me in a parallel universe still living in 2013, standing on the lakeshore while steam swirls off of my shoulders.

 And now I’m alone, and he’s moved on. Doing things with her that we talked about doing together. Standing on clifftops in Utah. I’m standing on clifftops in another dimension, where the skies are galaxies and the water is the deepest blue of the aether I fall into every night when I dream. High above them, untouchable.

 I take my brain out of my skull and lay it out like a hedge maze spanning hundreds of acres, finding and identifying the neurological pathways that have become a part of me the way that he was a part of me. The way that all of them were parts of me. They’ve carved their own grooves through my mind, and they’re well-trodden and worn down like the stone steps of a palace built hundreds of years ago. I prune memories, shear away the sense of control or ownership that I have over their lives the way that I once felt.  Their lives are their own, and mine is my own. Even if they’re doomed to repeat the same patterns over and over, I won’t be. I’m evolving, growing limbs and comet tails. I work tirelessly, letting them go, re-working the corridors of vines to lead back to the centre of the maze that is my head. The sum of my life won’t be determined by the carelessness of someone else who once held my heart in their hands and ate it whole. 

[yourfangirlfriend]

The Bird and The Bull

Read on ff.net

Chapter Four

Sansa had been a lady at three.

It seemed like since birth she knew how to curtsey, what dress was appropriate for what occasion, and even which stupid fork to use. She had pricked her fingers raw with sewing needles until she had mastered stitching and brushed her hair until her arms were sore every night. She had starved herself at dinners at her Septa's, and now Petyr's, encouragement, for their fear she would get plump. But as Sansa sat on her bed, finishing off the last of a lemon cake she had snuck from the kitchen earlier, her hair spread around her in a long, copper mess, with her betrothed snoring beside her, she didn't feel like a lady. She felt like a girl.

Sansa rolled onto her back and sucked the sweet juice off the tips of each of her fingers. It was late, and she knew it wouldn't be proper for her to stay out in the gardens. Petyr had the villainous habit of waking early and taking long walks around the grounds. In addition, he had every servant in the castle under his thumb and could make them talk with the slightest pressure. He would yell at her, tell her that if anyone else had seen she would have ruined their opportunity- an opportunity for what, she didn't quite know, or at this moment, care.

It had happened earlier in the evening, when they had been sitting in the library and Sansa was showing him recipes that the kitchen hands had lent her. She thought the mix of numbers and words would challenge Gendry, but not completely stump him. He was smart- when she was younger, Sansa often thought intelligence was only an attribute of those who could afford to be educated, but watching how quickly Gendry picked up words, the ferocity at which her copied down his letters until they were perfect, and how he was getting better at sums than she was ("I'll need a new teacher soon", he had said when she couldn't make heads or tails of one of the equations she had found in one of the old school books), she began to realize that what she had believed before was the privileged outlook of a noble girl, and that intelligence appears in every class. She had met bumbling noble idiots with enough gold in their pockets to pay for the construction of thirty universities, and now she was sitting across from a boy who, weeks before, couldn't tell you all the letters in the alphabet, but who now seemed more well spoken and logical than half the men she had been surrounded by her entire life.

"This is making me hungry," Gendry said suddenly, dragging Sansa out of her trance. She had been drawing some flowers in the margins of one of the older books that SweetRobin had deemed to be reappropriated as a sketch book. She looked up and saw him holding up a recipe card for wild boar.

"We just had dinner," she smiled up at him.

"I just had dinner. You pushed around some meat on your plate,"

Sansa bit her nail - nasty habit, Petyr had scolded her for it before.

"I've been warned against eating too much," she said.

"Eating too much?" Gendry balked. He stood up and grasped her hand, gesturing for her to raise. "You're practically a stick. Didn't they feed you before I got here?"

Sansa searched for words that would calm him down, and assure him that she was being taken care of, but he spoke up before she could finish.

"Come," he said, pulling her towards the door. In the passing weeks since their kiss outside her room, he had gotten more comfortable with her, confident, even. Where before he seemed to blush and keep his head down whenever she entered a room, now he smiled at her and touched her lightly on the arm or fingers whenever she drew close. He was chivalrous, yet forceful, in a way that excited her. Any touch or small, knowing smile from him made a heat bloom in the pit of her stomach, and many nights since her gave her the rose, she would lay awake, thinking of his strong hands folding the metal onto itself, the sweat that formed on his forehead whenever he worked. Those night, she thanked the old gods and the new that she didn't share a bedroom with anyone.

"Where are you taking me?" she giggled and they crept down the stone corridor. Gendry was playing up his walk- tip toeing and pressing them against walls whenever they heard the on coming footsteps of a servant. Once during the mission he pulled Sansa into a small nook and held her close as a servant walked by, oblivious to the two of them. Sansa felt his hand on the back of her head, and looked up at his face, shethed in the not-quite-darkness of a hallway at night as he watched the servant leave, and wished they could stay like this; pressed against each other while inhaling the intermingling smell of forge and sweat.

"Coast is clear," he said, pulling out almost too fast. Sansa stumbled out, but caught herself before falling, just in time to notice Gendry's hand readjusting the front of his trousers. Oh.

It was a quick trip to the kitchen from there, and the two were quickly raiding the counters and cupboards for any bread or left over meat. Sansa had just found a small loaf when Gendry gave a small cry from the other side of the room. Quickly, she picked up her skirts and went to him, just in time to see him turn around and beam at her.

"Quickly," he said as he handed her a large plate. Sansa smelled them before she could make them out in the dark. Lemon cakes.

"Where did you-?" she asked before Gendry turned around, his hands clutching the bottom of his shirt to form a small pouch filled with other sweet bread. "Let's go," he interrupted her, gesturing to the doorway with his head. Sansa followed, dumbstruck, as he led her out the servants entrance of the kitchen, down the corridor, and into the small garden on the west wing of the castle.

"Think we're safe now," Gendry said, settling himself under a tree. Sansa daintily walked over to him, and sat down on the grass as gracefully as she could.

"Good haul," he said, laying the desserts down on a loose napkin he had put in his pocket. He looked up at her, waiting for her stop say something.

"How did you know they had these?" she said, running her thumb along the edge of the plate she was holding.

"I over heard the servants talk," he said, reaching out and grabbing a raspberry tart, and chomping into it aggressively. "They said Lady Sansa is fond of her lemon cake."

Sansa blushed and looked down at the cake. She hadn't had it for months, not since she arrived at the Eyrie. She sometimes put lemon in her wine when she missed the sour and sweet sting of citrus, but it was no substitute.

"Well come on," Gendry said, licking tart of his fingers. "Eat,"

"I...I don't have a fork," Sansa said quickly.

"You don't need one," he leaned over the bread and took a pinch from one of the cakes, and put it back in his mouth. "See?"

Before she had known Gendry, Sansa would have been disgusted with such a display, and never would have dreamed to lower herself to eat in such a manner. But something about him - his boyish smile as he exaggerated chewing the cake and made loud noises of contentment, or the way the moonlight cast a blue outline across his beautiful face and strong muscled arms. Maybe it was the fact that lately even the thought of him made her palms sweat and her stomach tie itself in knots. Whatever the reason, Sansa Stark decided that tonight, she wasn't going to be a lady.

She picked the lemon cake up with two hands and brought it to her face, eagerly chomping into the center and savoring the taste. Gods, how she had missed it. She looked up to Gendry expected to see disgust, evidence that she had crossed a line, but instead he laughed and reached over and took a chunk from her hand.

"Hey!" she reached out for it, but he held her back as he bit into it.

"I thought ladies knew how to share." he said, scraping the lemon meranguine off his thumb with his top teeth. Sansa pulled her hands back, and reached up to undo her hair. Her long tresses fell past her shoulders and she crawled closer to the pile of food. She reached out for the last remaining lemon cake, and dragged her tongue across the surface. Smiling, she held it out to Gendry.

"By all means, my lord," she said, smiling through her teeth.

Instead of taking the cake like she expected, Gendry pushed her hand aside and brought her face to his.

He tasted like raspberry. Sansa felt his tongue run against her bottom lip before she experimented with opening her mouth. Almost immediately, he stabbed his tongue in, causing her pull back.

"Sorry!" he said almost immediately. There was a long pause before he sighed, and looked down at his hands. "Men at the taverns on the Kings Road said women liked that...I'm still new at this,"

"New at what?"

"Women."

Sansa smiled. "I think you're doing well enough," she said, sitting back up and scooting closer to him.

"Do you?" he said flirtatiously as her hand began to move along his jawline, scratching the soft patches.

"Just take it slow," she said. "Like you're biting into a peach you want to savor,"

Gendry laughed out loud, almost falling over onto the picnic.

"What's so funny?" Sansa snapped. Gendry kept laughing, rolling on the grass with his hands of his belly.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to go back to my room," she threatened. His hand reached up, and pulled her down on top of him, landing with a squeak.

"You're funny," he said, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. Sansa relaxed against him, listening to his heart beat through his linen shirt. She scoot in closer to him, throwing her arm over his torso as they looked up into the sky.

"Do you know the constellations?" she asked. She felt him nod.

"Tell me their stories," she said, reaching down beside them to grab the lemon cake she had licked. Breaking it in half, she handed a piece up to Gendry and began to nibble on her portion and he began to tell her.

"That one," he pointed. "That's the first dragon. It made a wager with the gods that he could fly farther..."

Sansa fell asleep to his voice, telling her stories about knights and monsters and star crossed lovers. When she awoke again, she found that they had rolled onto the desserts in their sleep. Every instinct told her that staying out in the garden would be improper, against everything she was taught, and would call her reputation into question.

Sansa Stark was a lady at age three, but at seventeen, she discovered she much preferred just being a girl.

She snuggled in closer to Gendry, who wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders.

Let them find me, she thought, breathing in the smell of sugar and smoke on his shirt. Let them find us.

[readbookywooks]

Queer Lodgings

The next morning Bilbo woke up with the early sun in his eyes. He jumped up to look at the time and to go and put his kettle on-and found he was not home at all. So he sat down and wished in vain for a wash and a brush. He did not get either, nor tea nor toast nor bacon for his breakfast, only cold mutton and rabbit. And after that he had to get ready for a fresh start. This time he was allowed to climb on to an eagle's back and cling between his wings. The air rushed over him and he shut his eyes. The dwarves were crying farewells and promising to repay the lord of the eagles if ever they could, as off rose fifteen great birds from the mountain's side. The sun was still close to the eastern edge of things. The morning was cool, and mists were in the valleys and hollows and twined here and there about the peaks and pinnacles of the hills. Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw that the birds were already high up and the world was far away, and the mountains were falling back behind them into the distance. He shut his eyes again and held on tighter. "Don't pinch!" said his eagle. "You need not be frightened like a rabbit, even if you look rather like one. It is a fair morning with little wind. What is finer than flying?" Bilbo would have liked to say: "A warm bath and late breakfast on the lawn afterwards;" but he thought it better to say nothing at all, and to let go his clutch just a tiny bit. After a good while the eagles must have seen the point they were making for, 'even from their great height, for they began to go down circling round in great spirals. They did this for a long while, and at last the hobbit opened his eyes again. The earth was much nearer, and below them were trees that looked like oaks and elms, and wide grass lands, and a river running through it all. But cropping out of the ground, right in the path of the stream which looped itself about it, was a great rock, almost a hill of stone, like a last outpost of the distant mountains, or a huge piece cast miles into the plain by some giant among giants. Quickly now to the top of this rock the eagles swooped one by one and set down their passengers. "Farewell!" they cried, "wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!" That is the polite thing to say among eagles. "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply. And so they parted. And though the lord of the eagles became in after days the King of All Birds and wore a golden crown, and his fifteen chieftains golden collars (made of the gold that the dwarves gave them), Bilbo never saw them again-except high and far off in the battle of Five Armies. But as that comes in at the end of this tale we will say no more about it just now. There was a flat space on the top of the hill of stone and a well worn path with many steps leading down it to the river, across which a ford of huge flat stones led to the grass-land beyond the stream. There was a little cave (a wholesome one with a pebbly floor) at the foot of the steps and near the end of the stony ford. Here the party gathered and discussed what was to be done. "I always meant to see you all safe (if possible) over the mountains," said the wizard, "and now by good management and good luck I have done it. Indeed we are now a good deal further east than I ever meant to come with you, for after all this is not my adventure. I may look in on it again before it is all over, but in the meanwhile I have some other pressing business to attend to." The dwarves groaned and looked most distressed, and Bilbo wept. They had begun to think Gandalf was going in come all the way and would always be there to help them out of difficulties. "I am not going to disappear this very instant," said he. "I can give you a day or two more. Probably I can help you out of your present plight, and I need a little help myself. We have no food, and no baggage, and no ponies to ride; and you don't know where you are. Now I can tell you that. You are still some miles north of the path which we should have been following, if we had not left the mountain pass in a hurry. Very few people live in these parts, unless they have come here since I was last down this way, which is some years ago. But there is somebody that I know of, who lives not far away. That Somebody made the steps on the great rock-the Carrock I believe he calls it. He does not come here often, certainly not in the daytime, and it is no good waiting for him. In fact it would be very dangerous. We must go and find him; and if all goes well at our meeting, I think I shall be off and wish you like the eagles 'farewell wherever you fare!' " They begged him not to leave them. They offered him dragon-gold and silver and jewels, but he would not change his mind. "We shall see, we shall see!" he said, "and I think I have earned already some of your dragon-gold - when you have got it." After that they stopped pleading. Then they took off their clothes and bathed in the river, which was shallow and clear and stony at the ford. When they had dried in the sun, which was now strong and warm, they were refreshed, if still sore and a little hungry. Soon they crossed the ford (carrying the hobbit), and then began to march through the long green grass and down the lines of the wide-armed oaks and the tall elms. "And why is it called the Carrock?" asked Bilbo as he went along at the wizard's side. "He called it the Carrock, because carrock is his word for it. He calls things like that carrocks, and this one is the Carrock because it is the only one near his home and he knows it well." "Who calls it? Who knows it?" "The Somebody I spoke of-a very great person. You must all be very polite when I introduce you. I shall introduce you slowly, two by two, I think; and you must be careful not to annoy him, or heaven knows what will happen. He can be appalling when he is angry, though he is kind enough if humoured. Still I warn you he gets angry easily." The dwarves all gathered round when they heard the wizard talking like this to Bilbo. "Is that the person you are taking us to now?" they asked. "Couldn't you find someone more easy-tempered? Hadn't you better explain it all a bit clearer?"-and so on. "Yes it certainly is! No I could not! And I was explaining very carefully," answered the wizard crossly. "If you must know more, his name is Beorn. He is very strong, and he is a skin-changer." "What! a furrier, a man that calls rabbits conies, when he doesn't turn their skins into squirrels?" asked Bilbo. "Good gracious heavens, no, no, NO, NO!" said Gandalf. "Don't be a fool Mr. Baggins if you can help it; and in the name of all wonder don't mention the word furrier again as long as you are within a hundred miles of his house, nor, rug, cape, tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunate word! He is a skin-changer. He changes his skin; sometimes he is a huge black bear, sometimes he is a great strong black-haired man with huge arms and a great beard. I cannot tell you much more, though that ought to be enough. Some say that he is a bear descended from the great and ancient bears of the mountains that lived there before the giants came. Others say that he is a man descended from the first men who lived before Smaug or the other dragons came into this part of the world, and before the goblins came into the hills out of the North. I cannot say, though I fancy the last is the true tale. He is not the sort of person to ask questions of. "At any rate he is under no enchantment but his own. He lives in an oak-wood and has a great wooden house; and as a man he keeps cattle and horses which are nearly is marvellous as himself. They work for him and talk to him. He does not eat them; neither does he hunt or eat wild animals. He keeps hives and hives of great fierce bees, and lives most on cream and honey. As a bear he ranges far and wide. I once saw him sitting all alone on the top of the Carrock at night watching the moon sinking towards the Misty Mountains, and I heard him growl in the tongue of bears; 'The day will come when they will perish and I shall go back!' That is why I believe he once came from the mountains himself." Bilbo and the dwarves had now plenty to think about, and they asked no more questions. They still had a long way to walk before them. Up slope and down dale they plodded. It grew very hot. Sometimes they rested under the trees, and then Bilbo felt so hungry that he would have eaten acorns, if any had been ripe enough yet to have fallen to the ground. It was the middle of the afternoon before they noticed that great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere. And such bees! Bilbo had never seen anything like them. "If one was to sting me," he thought, "I should swell up as big again as I am!" They were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold. "We are getting near," said Gandalf. "We are on the edge of his bee-pastures." After a while they came to a belt of tall and very ancient oaks, and beyond these to a high thorn-hedge through which you could neither see nor scramble. "You had better wait here," said the wizard to the dwarves; "and when I call or whistle begin to come after me - you will see the way I go-but only in pairs, mind, about five minutes between each pair of you. Bombur is fattest and will do for two, he had better come alone and last. Come on Mr. Baggins! There is a gate somewhere round this way." And with that he went off along the hedge taking the frightened hobbit with him. They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs; barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air. The wizard and the hobbit pushed open the heavy creaking gate and went down a wide track towards the house. Some horses, very sleek and well-groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings. "They have gone to tell him of the arrival of strangers," said Gandalf. Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lying a great oak-trunk with many lopped branches beside it. Standing near was a huge man with a thick black beard and' hair, and great bare arms and legs with knotted muscles. He was clothed in a tunic of wool down to his knees, and was leaning on a large axe. The horses were standing by him with their noses at his shoulder. "Ugh! here they are!" he said to the horses. "They don't look dangerous. You can be off!" He laughed a great rolling laugh, put down his axe and came forward. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked gruffly, standing in front of them and towering tall above Gandalf. As for Bilbo he could easily have trotted through his legs without ducking his head to miss the fringe of the man's brown tunic. "I am Gandalf," said the wizard. "Never heard of him," growled the man, "And what's this little fellow?" he said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with his bushy eyebrows. "That is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation," said Gandalf. Bilbo bowed. He had no hat to take off, and was painfully conscious of his many missing buttons. "I am a wizard," continued Gandalf. "I have heard of you, if you have not heard of me; but perhaps you have heard of my good cousin Radagast who lives near the Southern borders of Mirkwood?" "Yes; not a bad fellow as wizards go, I believe. I used to see him now and again," said Beorn. "Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are. What do you want?" "To tell you the truth, we have lost our luggage and nearly lost our way, and are rather in need of help, or at least advice. I may say we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains." "Goblins?" said the big man less gruffly. "O ho, so you've been having trouble with them have you? What did you go near them for?" "We did not mean to. They surprised us at night in a pass which we had to cross, we were coming out of the Lands over West into these countries-it is a long tale." "Then you had better come inside and tell me some of it, if it won't take all day," said the man leading the way through a dark door that opened out of the courtyard into the house. Following him they found themselves in a wide hall with a fire-place in the middle. Though it was summer there was a wood-fire burning and the smoke was rising to the blackened rafters in search of the way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through this dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it, and came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of single tree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the light of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps. Here they sat on wooden benches while Gandalf began his tale, and Bilbo swung his dangling legs and looked at the flowers in the garden, wondering what their names could be, as he had never seen half of them before. "I was coming over the mountains with a friend or two..." said the wizard. "Or two? I can only see one, and a little one at that," said Beorn. "Well to tell you the truth, I did not like to bother you with a lot of us, until I found out if you were busy. I will give a call, if I may." "Go on, call away!" So Gandalf gave a long shrill whistle, and presently Thorin and Dori came round the house by the garden path and stood bowing low before them. "One or three you meant, I see!" said Beorn. "But these aren't hobbits, they are dwarves!" "Thorin Oakenshield, at your service! Dori at your service!" said the two dwarves bowing again. "I don't need your service, thank you," said Beorn, "but I expect you need mine. I am not over fond of dwarves; but if it is true you are Thorin (son of Thrain, son of Thror, I believe), and that your companion is respectable, and that you are enemies of goblins and are not up to any mischief in my lands-what are you up to, by the way?" "They are on their way to visit the land of their fathers, away east beyond Mirkwood," put in Gandalf, "and it is entirely an accident that we are in your lands at all. We were crossing by the High Pass that should have brought us to the road that lies to the south of your country, when we were attacked by the evil goblins-as I was about to tell you." "Go on telling, then!" said Beorn, who was never very polite. "There was a terrible storm; the stone-giants were out hurling rocks, and at the head of the pass we took refuge in a cave, the hob bit and I and several of our companions..." "Do you call two several?" "Well, no. As a matter of fact there were more than two." "Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone home?" "Well, no. They don't seem all to have come when I whistled. Shy, I expect. You see, we are very much afraid that we are rather a lot for you to entertain." "Go on, whistle again! I am in for a party, it seems, and one or two more won't make much difference," growled Beorn. Gandalf whistled again; but Nori and Ori were there almost before he had stopped, for, if you remember, Gandalf had told them to come in pairs every five minutes. "Hullo!" said Beorn. "You came pretty quick-where were you hiding? Come on my jack-in-the-boxes!" "Nori at your service, Ori at..." they began; but Beorn interrupted them. "Thank you! When I want your help I will ask for it. Sit down, and let's get on with this tale, or it will be supper-time before it is ended." "As soon as we were asleep," went on Gandalf, "a crack at the back of the cave opened; goblins came out and grabbed the hobbit and the dwarves and our troop of ponies-" "Troop of ponies? What were you-a travelling circus? Or were you carrying lots of goods? Or do you always call six a troop?" "O no! As a matter of fact there were more than six ponies, for there were more than six of us-and well, here are two more!" Just at that moment Balin and Dwalin appeared and bowed so low that their beards swept the stone floor. The big man was frowning at first, but they did their very best to be frightfully polite, and kept on nodding and bending and bowing and waving their hoods before their knees (in proper dwarf-fashion), till he stopped frowning and burst into a chuckling laugh; they looked so comical. "Troop, was right," he said. "A fine comic one. Come in my merry men, and what are your names? I don't want your service just now, only your names; and then sit down and stop wagging!" "Balin and Dwalin," they said not daring to be offended, and sat flop on the floor looking rather surprised. "Now go on again!" said Beorn to the wizard. "Where was 1? O yes -  I was not grabbed. I killed a goblin or two with a flash-" "Good!" growled Beorn. "It is some good being a wizard, then." "-and slipped inside the crack before it closed. I followed down into the main hall, which was crowded with goblins. The Great Goblin was there with thirty or forty armed guards. I thought to myself 'even if they were not all chained together, what can a dozen do against so many?' " "A dozen! That's the first time I've heard eight called a dozen. Or have you still got some more jacks that haven't yet come out of their boxes?" "Well, yes, there seem to be a couple more here now - Fili and Kili, I believe," said Gandalf, as these two now appeared and stood smiling and bowing. "That's enough!" said Beorn. "Sit down and be quiet! Now go on, Gandalf!" So Gandalf went on with the tale, until he came to the fight in the dark, the discovery of the lower gate, and their horror when they found that Mr. Baggins had been mislaid. "We counted ourselves and found that there was no hobbit. There were only fourteen of us left!" "Fourteen! That's the first time I've heard one from ten leave fourteen. You mean nine, or else you haven't told me yet all the names of your party." "Well, of course you haven't seen Oin and Gloin yet. And, bless me! here they are. I hope you will forgive them for bothering you." "O let 'em all come! Hurry up! Come along, you two, and sit down! But look here, Gandalf, even now we have only got yourself and ten dwarves and the hobbit that was lost. That only makes eleven (plus one mislaid) and not fourteen, unless wizards count differently to other people. But now please get on with the tale." Beorn did not show it more than he could help, but really he had begun to get very interested. You see, in the old days he had known the very part of the mountains that Gandalf was describing. He nodded and he growled, when he heard of the hobbit's reappearance and of their scramble down the stone-slide and of the wolf-ring m the woods. When Gandalf came to their climbing into trees with the wolves all underneath, he got up and strode about and muttered: "I wish I had been there! I would have given them more than fireworks!" "Well," said Gandalf very glad to see that his tale was making a good impression, "I did the best I could. There we were with the wolves going mad underneath us and the forest beginning to blaze in places, when the goblins came down from the hills and discovered us. They yelled with delight and sang songs making fun of us. Fifteen birds in five fir-trees..." "Good heavens!" growled Beorn. "Don't pretend that goblins can't count. They can. Twelve isn't fifteen and they know it." "And so do 1. There were Bifur and Bofur as well. I haven't ventured to introduce them before, but here they are." In came Bifur and Bofur. "And me!" gasped Bombur pulling up behind. He was fat, and also angry at being left till last. He refused to wait five minutes, and followed immediately after the other two. "Well, now there are fifteen of you; and since goblins can count, I suppose that is all that there were up the trees. Now perhaps we can finish this story without any more interruptions." Mr. Baggins saw then how clever Gandalf had been. The interruptions had really made Beorn more interested in the story, and the story had kept him from sending the dwarves off at once like suspicious beggars. He never invited people into his house, if he could help it. He had very few friends and they lived a good way away; and he never invited more than a couple of these to his house at a time. Now he had got fifteen strangers sitting in his porch! By the time the wizard had finished his tale and had told of the eagles' rescue and of how they had all been brought to the Carrock, the sun had fallen behind the peaks of the Misty Mountains and the shadows were long in Beorn's garden. "A very good tale!" said he. "The best I have heard for a long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder. You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the story all the same. Let's have something to eat!" "Yes, please!" they all said together. "Thank you very much!" Inside the hall it was now quite dark. Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Beorn said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall about the central hearth. The dogs could stand on their hind-legs when they wished, and carry things with their fore-feet. Quickly they got out boards and trestles from the side walls and set them up near the fire. Then baa-baa-baa! was heard, and in came some snow-white sheep led by a large coal-black ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; others bore on their broad backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle tables. These were very low, low enough even for Bilbo to sit at comfortably. Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with wide rush-bottoms and little short thick legs for Gandalf and Thorin, while at the far end he put Beorn's big black chair of the same sort (in which he sat with his great legs stuck far out under the table). These were all the chairs he had in his hall, and he probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on him. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten. The other ponies came in rolling round drum-shaped sections of logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Bilbo; so soon they were all seated at Beorn's table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for many a year. There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in the West and said good-bye to Elrond. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. All the time they ate, Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to North and South a day's ride before them, barring their way to the East, the terrible forest of Mirkwood. The dwarves listened and shook their beards, for they knew that they must soon venture into that forest and that after the mountains it was the worst of the perils they had to pass before they came to the dragon's stronghold. When dinner was over they began to tell tales of their own, but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them. They spoke most of gold and silver and jewels and the making of things by smith-craft, and Beorn did not appear to care for such things: there were no things of gold or silver in his hall, and few save the knives were made of metal at all. They sat long at the table with their wooden drinking-bowls filled with mead. The dark night came on outside. The fires in the middle of the hall were built with fresh logs and the torches were put out, and still they sat in the light of the dancing flames with the pillars of the house standing tall behind them, arid dark at the top like trees of the forest. Whether it was magic or not, it seemed to Bilbo that he heard a sound like wind in the branches stirring in the rafters, and the hoot of owls. Soon he began to nod with sleep and the voices seemed to grow far away, until he woke with a start. The great door had creaked and slammed. Beorn was gone. The dwarves were sitting cross-legged on the floor round the fire, and presently they began to sing. Some of the verses were like this, but there were many more, and their singing went on for a long while: "The wind was on the withered heath, but in the forest stirred no leaf: there shadows lay by night and day, and dark things silent crept beneath. The wind came down from mountains cold, and like a tide it roared and rolled; the branches groaned, the forest moaned, and leaves were laid upon the mould. The wind went on from West to East ; all movement in the forest ceased, but shrill and harsh across the marsh its whistling voices were released. The grasses hissed, their tassels bent, the reeds were rattling-on it went o' er shaken pool under heavens cool where racing clouds were torn and rent. It passed the lonely Mountain bare and swept above the dragon's lair : there black and dark lay boulders stark and flying smoke was in the air. It left the world and took its flight over the wide seas of the night. The moon set sail upon the gale, and stars were fanned to leaping light." Bilbo began to nod again. Suddenly up stood Gandalf. "It is time for us to sleep," be said, "-for us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, but I warn you all not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: you must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril." Bilbo found that beds had already been laid at the side of the hall, on a sort of raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall. For him there was a little mattress of straw and woollen blankets. He snuggled into them very gladly, summertime though it was. The fire burned low and he fell asleep. Yet in the night he woke: the fire had now sunk to a few embers; the dwarves and Gandalf were all asleep, to judge by their breathing; a splash of white on the floor came from the high moon, which was peering down through the smoke-hole in the roof. There was a growling sound outside, and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. Bilbo.wondered what it was, and whether it could be Beorn in enchanted shape, and if he would come in as a bear and kill them. He dived under the blankets and hid his head, and fell asleep again at last in spite of his fears. It was full morning when he awoke. One of the dwarves had fallen over him in the shadows where he lay, and had rolled down with a bump from the platform on to the floor. It was Bofur, and he was grumbling about it, when Bilbo opened his eyes. "Get up lazybones," he said, "or there will be no breakfast left for you." Up jumped Bilbo. "Breakfast!" he cried. "Where is breakfast?" "Mostly inside us," answered the other dwarves who were moving around the hall; "but what is left is out on the veranda. We have been about looking for Beorn ever since the sun got up; but there is no sign of him anywhere, though we found breakfast laid as soon as we went out." "Where is Gandalf?" asked Bilbo, moving off to find something to eat as quick as he could. "O! out and about somewhere," they told him. But he saw no sign of the wizard all that day until the evening. Just before sunset he walked into the hall, where the hobbit and the dwarves were having supper, waited on by Beorn's wonderful animals, as they had been all day. Of Beorn they had seen and heard nothing since the night before, and they were getting puzzled. "Where is our host, and where have you been all day yourself?" they all cried. "One question at a time-and none till after supper! I haven't had a bite since breakfast." At last Gandalf pushed away his plate and jug - he had eaten two whole loaves (with masses of butter and honey and clotted cream) and drunk at least a quart of mead and he took out his pipe. "I will answer the second question first," he said, "-but bless me! this is a splendid place for smoke rings!" Indeed for a long time they could get nothing more out of him, he was so busy sending smoke-rings dodging round the pillars of the hall, changing them into all sorts of different shapes and colours, and setting them at last chasing one another out of the hole in the roof. They must have looked very queer from outside, popping out into the air one after another, green, blue, red, silver-grey, yellow, white; big ones, little ones; little ones dodging through big ones and joining into figure-eights, and going off like a flock of birds into the distance. "I have been picking out bear-tracks," he said at last. "There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here last night. I soon saw that Beorn could not have made them all: there were far too many of them, and they were of various sizes too. I should say there were little bears, large bears, ordinary bears, and gigantic big bears, all dancing outside from dark to nearly dawn. They came from almost every direction, except from the west over the river, from the Mountains. In that direction only one set of footprints led-none coming, only ones going away from here. I followed these as far as the Carrock. There they disappeared into the river, but the water was too deep and strong beyond the rock for me to cross. It is easy enough, as you remember, to get from this bank to the Carrock by the ford, but on the other side is a cliff standing up from a swirling channel. I had to walk miles before I found a place where the river was wide and shallow enough for me to wade and swim, and then miles back again to pick up the tracks again. By that time it was too late for me to follow them far. They went straight off in the direction of the pine-woods on the east side of the Misty Mountains, where we had our pleasant little party with the Wargs the night before last. And now I think I have answered your first question, too," ended Gandalf, and he sat a long while silent. Bilbo thought he knew what the wizard meant. "What shall we do," he cried, "if he leads all the Wargs and the goblins down here? We shall all be caught and killed! I thought you said he was not 9 friend of theirs." "So I did. And don't be silly! You had better go to bed, your wits are sleepy." The hobbit felt quite crushed, and as there seemed nothing else to do he did go to bed; and while the dwarves were still singing songs he dropped asleep, still puzzling his little head about Beorn, till he dreamed a dream of hundreds of black bears dancing slow heavy dances round and round in the moonlight in the courtyard. Then he woke up when everyone else was asleep, and he heard the same scraping, scuffling, snuffling, and growling as before. Next morning they were all wakened by Beorn himself. "So here you all are still!" he said. He picked up the hobbit and laughed: "Not eaten up by Wargs or goblins or wicked bears yet I see"; and he poked Mr. Baggins' waistcoat most disrespectfully. "Little bunny is getting nice and fat again on bread and honey," he chuckled. "Come and have some more!" So they all went to breakfast with him. Beorn was most jolly for a change; indeed he seemed to be in a splendidly good humour and set them all laughing with his funny stories; nor did they have to wonder long where he had been or why he was so nice to them, for he told them himself. He had been over the river and right back up into the mountains-from which you can guess that he could travel quickly, in bear's shape at any rate. From the burnt wolf -  glade he had soon found out that part of their story was true; but he had found more than that: he had caught a Warg and a goblin wandering in the woods. From these he had got news: the goblin patrols were still hunting with Wargs for the dwarves, and they were fiercely angry because of the death of the Great Goblin, and also because of the burning of the chief wolf's nose and the death from the wizard's fire of many of his chief servants. So much they told him when he forced them, but he guessed there was more wickedness than this afoot, and that a great raid of the whole goblin army with their wolf-allies into the lands shadowed by the mountains might soon be made to find the dwarves, or to take vengeance on the men and creatures that lived there, and who they thought must be sheltering them. "It was a good story, that of yours," said Beorn, "but I like it still better now I am sure it is true. You must forgive my not taking your word. If you lived near the edge of Mirkwood, you would take the word of no one that you did not know as well as your brother or better. As it is, I can only say that I have hurried home as fast as I could to see that you were safe, and to offer you any help that I can. I shall think more kindly of dwarves after this. Killed the Great Goblin, killed the Great Goblin!" he chuckled fiercely to himself. "What did you do with the goblin and the Warg?" asked Bilbo suddenly. "Come and see!" said Beorn, and they followed round the house. A goblin's head was stuck outside the gate and a warg-skin was nailed to a tree just beyond. Beorn was a fierce enemy. But now he was their friend, and Gandalf thought it wise to tell him their whole story and the reason of their journey, so that they could get the most help he could offer. This is what he promised to do for them. He would provide ponies for each of them, and a horse for Gandalf, for their journey to the forest, and he would lade them with food to last them for weeks with care, and packed so as to be as easy as possible to carry-nuts, flour, sealed jars of dried fruits, and red earthenware pots of honey, and twice-baked cakes that would keep good a long time, and on a little of which they could march far. The making of these was one of his secrets; but honey was in them, as in most of his foods, and they were good to eat, though they made one thirsty. Water, he said, they would not need to carry this side of the forest, for there were streams and springs along the road. "But your way through Mirkwood is dark, dangerous and difficult," he said. "Water is not easy to find there, nor food. The time is not yet come for nuts (though it may be past and gone indeed before you get to the other side), and nuts are about all that grows there fit for food; in there the wild things are dark, queer, and savage. I will provide you with skins for carrying water, and I will give you some bows and arrows. But I doubt very much whether anything you find in Mirkwood will be wholesome to eat or to drink. There is one stream there, I know, black and strong which crosses the path. That you should neither drink of, nor bathe in; for I have heard that it carries enchantment and a great drowsiness and forgetfulness. And in the dim shadows of that place I don't think you will shoot anything, wholesome or unwholesome, without straying from the path. That you MUST NOT do, for any reason. "That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot help you much; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. At the gate of the forest I must ask you to send back my horse and my ponies. But I wish you all speed, and my house is open to you, if ever you come back this way again." They thanked him, of course, with many bows and sweepings of their hoods and with many an "at your service, O master of the wide wooden halls!" But their spirits sank at his grave words, and they all felt that the adventure was far more dangerous than they had thought, while all the time, even if they passed all the perils of the road, the dragon was waiting at the end. All that morning they were busy with preparations. Soon after midday they ate with Beorn for the last time, and after the meal they mounted the steeds he was lending them, and bidding him many farewells they rode off through his gate at a good pace. As soon as they left his high hedges at the east of his fenced lands they turned north and then bore to the north-west. By his advice they were no longer making for the main forest-road to the south of his land. Had they followed the pass, their path would have led them down the stream from the mountains that joined the great river miles south of the Carrock. At that point there was a deep ford which they might have passed, if they had still had their ponies, and beyond that a track led to the skirts of the wood and to the entrance of the old forest road. But Beorn had warned them that that way was now often used by the goblins, while the forest-road itself, he bad heard, was overgrown and disused at the eastern end and led to impassable marshes where the paths had long been lost. Its eastern opening had also always been far to the south of the Lonely Mountain, and would have left them still with a long and difficult northward march when they got to the other side. North of the Carrock the edge of Mirkwood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though here the Mountains too drew down nearer, Beorn advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days' ride due north of the Carrock was the gate of a little-known pathway through Mirkwood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain. "The goblins," Beorn had said, "will not dare to cross the Great River for a hundred miles north of the Carrock nor to come near my house - it is well protected at night! -  but I should ride fast; for if they make their raid soon they will cross the river to the south and scour all the edge of the forest so as to cut you off, and Wargs run swifter than ponies. Still you are safer going north, even though you seem to be going back nearer to their strongholds; for that is what they will least expect, and they will have the longer ride to catch you. Be off now as quick as you may!" That is why they were now riding in silence, galloping wherever the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult to think of pursuing goblins behind, and when they had put many miles between them and Beorn's house they began to talk and to sing again and to forget the dark forest-path that lay in front. But in the evening when the dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowered against the sunset they made a camp and set a guard, and most of them slept uneasily with dreams in which there came the howl of hunting wolves and the cries of goblins. Still the next morning dawned bright and fair again. There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chill, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still long they were off again. So they rode now for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. Sometimes Bilbo saw the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first he thought they were the dead branches of trees. That third evening they were so eager to press on, for Beorn had said that they should reach the forest-gate early on the fourth day, that they rode still forward after dusk and into the night beneath the moon. As the light faded Bilbo thought he saw away to the right, or to the left, the shadowy form of a great bear prowling along in the same direction. But if he dared to mention it to Gandalf, the wizard only said: "Hush! Take no notice!" Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short. As soon as it was light they could see the forest coming as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the hobbit that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of Mirkwood, and were resting almost beneath the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed along the ground. "Well, here is Mirkwood!" said Gandalf. "The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. I hope you like the look of it. Now you must send back these excellent ponies you have borrowed." The dwarves were inclined to grumble at this, but the wizard told them they were fools. "Beorn is not as far off as you seem to think, and you had better keep your promises anyway, for he is a bad enemy. Mr. Baggins' eyes are sharper than yours, if you have not seen each night after dark a great bear going along with us or sitting far of in the moon watching our camps. Not only to guard you and guide you, but to keep an eye on the ponies too. Beorn may be your friend, but he loves his animals as his children. You do not guess what kindness he has shown you in letting dwarves ride them so far and so fast, nor what would happen to you, if you tried to take them into the forest." "What about the horse, then?" said Thorin. "You don't mention sending that back." "I don't, because I am not sending it." "What about your promise then?" "I will look after that. I am not sending the horse back, I am riding it!" Then they knew that Gandalf was going to leave them at the very edge of Mirkwood, and they were in despair. But nothing they could say would change his mind. "Now we had this all out before, when we landed on the Carrock," he said. "It is no use arguing. I have, as I told you, some pressing business away south; and I am already late through bothering with you people. We may meet again before all is over, and then again of course we may not. That depends on your luck and on your courage and sense; and I am sending Mr. Baggins with you. I have told you before that he has more about him than you guess, and you will find that out before long. So cheer up Bilbo and don't look so glum. Cheer up Thorin and Company! This is your expedition after all. Think of the treasure at the end, and forget the forest and the dragon, at any rate until tomorrow morning!" When tomorrow morning came he still said the same. So now there was nothing left to do but to fill their water-skins at a clear spring they found close to the forest-gate, and unpack the ponies. They distributed the packages as fairly as they could, though Bilbo thought his lot was wearisomely heavy, and did not at all like the idea of trudging for miles and miles with all that on his back. "Don't you worry!" said Thorin. "It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs heavier, when the food begins to run short." Then at last they said good-bye to their ponies and turned their heads for home. Off they trotted gaily, seeming very glad to put their tails towards the shadow of Mirkwood. As they went away Bilbo could have sworn that a thing like a bear left the shadow of the trees and shambled off quickly after them. Now Gandalf too said farewell. Bilbo sat on the ground feeling very unhappy and wishing he was beside the wizard on his tall horse. He had gone just inside the forest after breakfast (a very poor one), and it had seemed as dark in there in the morning as at night, and very secret: "a sort of watching and waiting feeling," he said to himself. "Good-bye!" said Gandalf to Thorin. "And good-bye to you all, good-bye! Straight through the forest is your way now. Don't stray off the track!-if you do, it is a thousand to one you will never find it again and never get out of Mirkwood; and then I don't suppose I, or any one else, will ever see you again." "Do we really have to go through?" groaned the hobbit. "Yes, you do!" said the wizard, "if you want to get to the other side. You must either go through or give up your quest. And I am not going to allow you to back out now, Mr. Baggins. I am ashamed of you for thinking of it. You have got to look after all these dwarves for me," he laughed. "No! no!" said Bilbo. "I didn't mean that. I meant, is there no way round?" "There is, if you care to go two hundred miles or so out of your way north, and twice that south. But you wouldn't get a safe path even then. There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go. Before you could get round Mirkwood in the North you would be right among the slopes of the Grey Mountains, and they are simply stiff with goblins, hobgoblins, and rest of the worst description. Before you could get round it in the South, you would get into the land of the Necromancer; and even you. Bilbo, won't need me to tell you tales of that black sorcerer. I don't advise you to go anywhere near the places overlooked by his dark tower! Stick to the forest-track, keep your spirits up, hope for the best, and with a tremendous slice of luck you may come out one day and see the Long Marshes lying below you, and beyond them, high in the East, the Lonely Mountain where dear old Smaug lives, though I hope he is not expecting you." "Very comforting you are to be sure," growled Thorin. "Good-bye! If you won't come with us, you had better get off without any more talk!" "Good-bye then, and really good-bye!" said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: "Good-bye! Be good, take care of yourselves-and DON'T LEAVE THE PATH!" Then he galloped away and was soon lost to sight. "O good-bye and go away!" grunted the dwarves, all the more angry because they were really filled with dismay at losing him. Now began the most dangerous part of all the journey. They each shouldered the heavy pack and the water-skin which was their share, and turned from the light that lay on the lands outside and plunged into the forest.

[planarchaosproject]

Planar Chaos: One Shots

 Like Nothing Ever Happened

"H-honey?" Ashleigh softly closed the door to Odom's spacious Ravnica apartment behind her. How long had it been since she'd been here? Two years? Three? Possibly more? The voices pounded against her skull. There were too many people, too much life crammed into this plane. "I'm back."

She received no response. He was probably in the lab. Ashleigh ducked into the bedroom and opened the closet, pleased to find her Izzet and Dimir guild robes still hanging in the back. Her signets and the lantern she'd stolen from the Dimir shortly before first meeting Odom were in the box tucked into the back corner of the closet as well. It felt good to wear them again.

Shortly after what was her second encounter with the planeswalker Brock inside this very apartment, she had come back to visit Odom. Things went how they always did, only this time Ashleigh woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and unable to ignore the cacophony splitting her skull. The voices had been a constant part of her life since she stumbled upon Maralen in Glen Elendra after the Aurora had been dismantled. Nobody she went to had been able to make them stop, so after a while she just started ignoring them. They grew louder on planes with more life and softer on those that were sparsely populated, but always she had been able to push them away.

Not that night. Ashleigh had been consumed with an overwhelming desire to destroy everything around her, starting with the planeswalker sleeping next to her. He was so blissfully unaware that, should Ashleigh finally snap, he was first in the line of fire. It would be so easy.

Except that Ashleigh didn't actually want to kill him. If friendship was measured by who was able to put up with you for the longest, Odom was certainly her only real friend in the multiverse. They had fun together. There was so much they wanted to do, like blow up a plane.

She'd planeswalked away then and there, returning to her dark eyrie on Innistrad where she could at least have some measure of peace and quiet.

Ashleigh changed into her Izzet robes and descended the stairs into the lab. It was apparent Odom wasn't home. The door to the room where he kept Maelstrom Wanderer was open and the elemental was nowhere to be seen. The layout of the lab had changed as well. The incubation chamber had been moved to the center. A series of valves and tubes supplied it with various materials. Two open jars sat on the table next to the chamber. They both contained pieces of bark, one labeled "Me" and the other "Brosephus". A third, closed jar contained what looked like small strips of pale skin, a smaller vial of blood, and a few long hairs. This jar was labeled "Ash".

She had no memory of volunteering the samples to Odom.

There was a rumbling noise from Maelstrom's room. Odom was back, it seemed. The soft, squishing noise of him sliding off of the elemental's back and landing on the ground confirmed this. Ashleigh had the sudden desire to run, to planeswalk away, but getting to Ravnica had been difficult. She could only imagine how hard it would be to get back. The plane hadn't wanted to let her in, but she found a chink in its armor. This same chink had been exploited in the past by one Jace Beleren to escape after being transformed into the embodiment of Ravnica's Guildpact.

The door was opened with a kick and Odom entered the room carrying two rucksacks filled with jars. His arms, all five of them this time, were full as well. They began to magically sort themselves, flying to shelving units that Ashleigh was sure were a new addition.

Thankfully, the magical sorting was finished before Odom noticed her standing there. When he did, three of his arms fell off into puddles of ooze and Ashleigh thought she saw his jaw start to fall off before he reached up to put it back into place with a squelching, cracking noise.

He crossed the room in an instant. Ashleigh was prepared for a fight and took a few steps back in preparation, but instead of striking her he caught her in a bear hug.

"I'm so glad you're back. It's almost finished and it didn't feel right doing it without you." He guided her back to the incubation chamber. The biomass had attained a vaguely oblong shape and Ashleigh could see the beginnings of limbs. "I also need an accomplished electromancer to provide the spark of life. I don't know anyone better than you."

Ashleigh rolled up her sleeves, red lightning crackling around her hands.

"Not yet," Odom stayed her hands. "We have to add the finishing touches."

The contents of every jar in the room were dumped into one of the vats connected to the chamber through a series of tubes, including the jars containing the samples from Odom and Ashleigh. The biological material was quickly dissolved into a green liquid. Odom flipped a switch and Ashleigh watched in awe as the dissolved biomass was pumped through the tubes.

"I asked a few favors and got what's left of the research notes from Experiment One. There wasn't a lot. Zegana ordered most of it destroyed, but there were a few pages that survived. From there is was improvisation. I wasn't a huge part of it, but I did do some work on the tentacles. See?" Odom indicated a few serpentine appendages through the glass of the incubation chamber.

Ashleigh nodded. "So how long do we wait before I shock it?"

"Not long now. Give it about twenty-four hours."

"What can we do for the next twenty-four hours?"

"I have a few ideas." Odom smirked.

"Dammit you shot down my legionnaire!" Ashleigh crossed her arms and pouted at the red and white pieces on her game board. "We agreed, casual telepathy is against the rules."

"What? You totally read my mind to see where I had my corpsejack positioned." Odom looked to the side where the discarded black and green game piece lay on the floor next to him.

"Maelstrom is helping you cheat, isn't he?" Ashleigh stabbed an accusatory finger at the massive elemental towering above where they sat cross-legged on the floor. Maelstrom let out a low rumble of indignation.

"Shh, it's okay Maelstrom, she's just being salty." Odom patted one of the elemental's treelike limbs. "Okay. Do you at least admit I'm better at Guild Battle?"

"No. Because you picked the most overpowered guild ever. You can get your dead things back. We both need to play fair guilds."

"Ash, we've played every possible combination of guilds. I've won two-thirds of the time."

Before Ashleigh could retort, a chime went off in the other room.

"It's ready!" Odom jumped up, scattering the boards and game pieces. Ashleigh scrambled after him. They stood close together with their arms around each other, staring into the incubation chamber. The creature within was fully formed. Its protruding eyes remained closed. Its mouth vaguely resembled a beak and there were noticeable nubs on its back that would hopefully develop into wings. It sported fur on its back, a feathered crest, and scaly limbs. Its stomach, however, was completely see-through, exposing the complex organ systems it had taken Odom the last three years to perfect with other experiments sold to the Simic for materials. He'd been able to awake those prototypes with his own weak electromancy, but for this being he'd settle for none other than Ashleigh's.

"Now?" Ashleigh looked up at him eagerly.

"Now." He nodded, then made sure to take several large steps back so that he was directly behind Ashleigh. Odom had learned from experience that the Voidcaller had two modes of operating: eerily quiet or amazingly destructive. Behind her was honestly the safest place in the room.

Red lightning began to crackle and spark around her fingers and her hair stood on end. Electricity arced from her hands into the incubation chamber in a steady, erratic stream. Occasionally forks would split off and strike random objects around the room, blowing them up in a fountain of sparks.

"We're going to need more than that," Odom said.

"I don't think I can give any more," Ashleigh replied. Her breathing had become ragged. The sweat that had moments earlier just been small beads on her brow poured down the back of her neck in an icy river. Her knees began to shake. In her mind the voices shrieked and moaned. She had to shut them out or she couldn't concentrate on the spell. The lightning began to falter.

No. She would bring this creature to life. It would be the key to her designs. It would grant her the blissful peace of silence.

Ashleigh forced out one last burst of energy and collapsed into a heap on the floor. Odom held his breath, his eyes not on his friend but their creation. For a time, nothing happened. Then a single tentacle twitched. Slowly, the creature wiggled to life. A sharp cry pierced the lab's silence.

Odom saw a blur of red and blue. Ashleigh had stood and rushed to the incubation chamber. She picked up the creature within and cradled it like one would hold an infant. It looked up at her with impossibly large black eyes. Odom moved closer, looking over Ashleigh's shoulder at the abomination in her arms.

"It's perfect," Ashleigh said breathlessly.

Odom wasn't sold on that assessment yet. They would have to see what happened when it was released on a plane to fend for itself. The perfect creature would be capable of defeating all others, it would also learn to call Odom its master. "We'll have to see."

"Odom," Ashleigh said, "you don't understand. I can't hear them anymore."

He knew what she meant. Somehow, possibly due to the bits of eldrazi Odom had used in the creature's creation, this abomination's presence was able to cancel out the voices Ashleigh had heard ever since Maralen dismantled the Great Aurora on Lorwyn. This was an interesting development, but also incredibly dangerous. She'd likely do anything to keep possession of the creature. Odom couldn't easily take her in a fight, either. His duplication magic and her tendency of "borrowing" almost canceled each other out perfectly. They'd sit there at a stalemate, and that was no way for their creation to see its creators behaving.

As if she'd heard every thought, which wasn't impossible but just highly unlikely, Ashleigh said "It's my precious little baby."

All it took was for Odom to meet the creature's soulless black eyes to agree with that assessment. "Our precious little baby."