#/* also eaves!!!! those coverings are called eaves!!! I gave up looking for the word and just used covered threshold */

[iamnoprogram]

“Not a problem. Geez! You’re drenched!”

Sam responded, closing the door behind her once Ed was inside and locking it. Her own hoodie was a bit soaked from her brief outing, but it was clear from how thoroughly drenched Ed was that he had been out there for quite a while. Had it really been raining this hard for long?

“Hold on, let me get you some towels.”

She put up a hand to motion for him to stay put. Though most of the arcade machines were covered, there were a few that weren’t and she didn’t really want them to get wet and risk damaging them. (She had been messing around with them during her free time, restoring a few of them. She didn’t really know why, she didn’t really plan or think about reopening the arcade, probably nostalgia…).

As she walked towards the stairway leading up to the loft, Marvin seemingly materialized out of thin air at the bottom of the stairway, completely ignoring her in favor of walking up to the newcomer.

“Come on Marv, not now bud.”

She scooped up the little Boston Terrier easily with one hand. He wiggled a bit at first before settling down and allowing himself to be taken away. Although Marvin was friendly, Sam figured Ed probably didn’t want the little dog jumping up and pawing at his legs right now. So she carried him up with her as she went to grab some towels.

(Combining: GUEST :  for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. STORM :  for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm. Same universe as prev Ed and Sam rp?)

Sam had been tucked away in the basement of The Arcade, coding on The Grid’s terminal, so she didn’t hear the sound of the rain right away. When she did however it snapped her out of her trance. A jolt of slight panic coursing through her. The bike!

She raced up the stairs, pushing away the TRON machine she had moved back into place behind her so that Marvin didn’t wander in when she was working, and raced past the other covered, but no longer dusty, cabinet machines in the arcade till she was at the door, swiftly unlocking it. She paused under the covered threshold of the entrance when she saw just how much water was falling out of the sky. That was definitely one hell of a storm.

Well. It’s not like she was going anywhere anytime soon.

She flipped her hood up and walked out to the street towards her Dad’s… well her, Ducati now, kicking up the kickstand and grabbing onto the handlebars to walk it under the covered threshold. She lifted her head up when she heard the shuffling of feet and some splashes nearby. At first she didn’t recognize him through the rain until he got a bit closer. She lifted one of her arms, waving it slightly as she called out to be heard over the pounding of raindrops and howling wind.

“Ed! Hey! Over here!”

She rested the Ducati against the wall, still waving with her hand as she held open the door of the arcade to invite him inside.

@iamnoprogram

It was one of those days where Ed couldn't go home. One of the days where he was afraid of what he might do if he left his thoughts to wander. Usually he would stay at the office and code until he passed out at at the keyboard, but his meeting with Mackey earlier that day had been... it had been a lot of things, but certainly not good. Draining, mostly. And for reasons Ed wasn't quite sure of, it brought up old ghosts that Ed still couldn't put to rest. They were the sort of ghosts that made his office, which was normally a refuge, feel downright oppressive.

He'd hoped that a long walk would exhaust him enough that he could go home and pass out as as soon as he got to bed.

He'd been walking for about an hour and a half when the storm hit. It was one of those rare deluges came so suddenly, and so intensely, that LA's near non-existent storm drainage system quickly overflowed and flooded the streets. The kind he'd only seen a handful of times in the twenty-some-odd years he'd lived there.

Between the dark, and the rain fogging up his glasses, he had pocketed the glasses in hopes of preserving them when he inevitably tripped over his feet, and resigned himself to shuffling blindly back toward the tower and his car.

Not that he had any idea whether it would be better to go home or stay at the office.

He hadn't been walking back long when he heard someone calling his name, though it had still been long enough that he was thoroughly drenched, and shivering mildly from the cold. He froze in place on the sidewalk, having to take a moment to identify her by voice, since he was all but entirely blind.

"...Sam?" he asked, then realizing where he was, and that she was the only person likely to be there. He glanced both directions, and, seeing no lights, nor hearing any vehicles (there rarely were; this part of town had been all but abandoned since he was in middle school), shuffled across the street, navigating toward Sam by voice alone.

"Hi Sam," he said awkwardly, stepping under the eaves. "Uh, thanks," he said awkwardly, hesitantly following her into the Arcade.

[freebooter4ever]

.

I know i said i wouldnt waste any more words on him but this morning im indulging.

It's cloudy and rainy in LA today. When I imagined being older - well first off I didn't think it would take me till my thirties to finally feel semi-securely independent- but as a kid I always saw myself living and working in Seattle (home) with the glossy wet streets and constant smell of damp pine needles. So I guess when I get even a little sense of that...it feels like some sort of accomplishment I didn't even recognize I was searching for? The mist at the seaport did the same. I didn't even bring a coat with me, I was wandering around the village in my goofy sailing ship sweater and 4 inch heels, probably standing out like a sore thumb. But you couldn't get me to get off those beautiful ships just because of a little rain. One of the volunteers I was chatting up was so amused by my refusal to stay dry she actually gave me her umbrella to use while she hid under the ship's eaves.

And Oh, the rain the greenery the clouds reminded me of that little island off vancouver island that i fell so much in love with while working there for a week. Where I went running on rocky beaches, and took my cool down sitting on a driftwood throne, and kept thinking about how i wanted to take nick out of land locked pittsburgh and get him out here to the pacific northwest and keep him. That was back when we were still doing our friends-with-benefits/lovers(?) thing, and eight years ago sounds like forever but it felt like no time at all when I saw him walking across the gravel hill in the port. (I keep reminding myself that he never called me once while he was in Seattle)(I thought about him constantly whenever I was there...and that was obviously not reciprocated).

But look, we met on one of my more miserable thanksgivings when I was headed down the treacherously tall front steps of his sister's pittsburgh north side house, and he was headed up with an arm load of pies. And all he had to do was fucking smile at me (and then later when I came back from my office around 2am to find him sitting on the floor of the kitchen eating pie, and I perched on the bar stool and we talked for three hours, and he kept smiling and smiling and smiling up at me like I was something special).

He smiled at me again when I unexpectedly saw him at the seaport. He did NOT tell me the bad weather meant he was no longer aboard whatever ship he had been supposed to be on. He had not responded to any of my texts about how I and a friend were making the trip anyway. And he must have overhead me bitterly complaining to my friend that I hated how much I loved this place because I wanted to see it, hate it, and be able to forget about him. So his smile was a little strained, I think.

I wish I had taken photos of his office. It was up this long flight of cavernous wood steps covered in hanging seafaring paraphernalia in a wooden building over a century old. And at the top, in his little room - also covered in ship building paraphernalia, he offered me a seat. But instead of sitting in the arm chair I pulled out a nearby stool so I could perch as close to his desk as possible. And to the left of me was this beautiful old glass window. So when looking at him got to be too much, i could stare out at the ships.

Cause looking at him was the same, like no time had passed, and it was weird and terrifying because of how unexpected that was. He could still lift me off my feet in a hug like it was easy, and the minute we touched I still didn't want to let go. Kissing was a little scarier than it used to be, but that was my fault for having retreated back into my shell during the pandemic. But between kisses, while we were still stuck together like magnets, I definitely kept babbling about how much I already loved this place, and how my job was all on the computer, and technically I could work remote anywhere I chose, and he was definitely encouraging it.

And I'm not stupid, I promise. I know that if I up and moved to small town rhode island nick would get tired of me within a week, and it would be a disaster and all fall apart. I know this has always been my lovestory and for him its something else entirely. But oh my god that office overlooking the ships, with his big blue eyes looking at me from across a desk that he utterly belonged in...that could be a fantasy.

(the best thanksgiving of my life was him and me alone in a cabin in the laurel highlands, taking his truck out in the snow and exploring the woods)(he baked me mac n cheese)(if i do have a type its: ‘can cook well’)(but im also awkwardly aware that my bar for ‘best’ is so low, that surely he's had better, and this is all one sided).

I've dated other people since, obviously, and they've been wonderful, but no one ever felt like ‘home’ like he did. And it alarmed me that the same feeling remained even after not seeing each other in person for six ish years. Sometimes it scares me that I won't ever find that again. Especially getting older, and getting all of society's messaging that I'm basically undesirable and worthless at this point. And I also sometimes wonder what it means that I could feel that way about someone who doesn't feel the same way back, and maybe that means this feeling is wrong somehow. But I don't even know what this feeling is, thats so strong it compells me to drive over eight hours not even expecting to see him but just to see the misty seaport that has held this previously nomadic ski bum/sailor/new yorker down for more than a year.

I'm not going to think about it deeper than I already have. I have come to him so much over the years. Maybe if he finally comes to LA for a bit. Maybe then. But oh my god there's a huge chunk of me that longs to sit in that office, watching the ships and him, until I get my fill of it, whenver that might be.

[miridiums-writing]

Loki x reader

This is the longest thing I've ever written, also having to post on my phone because I dont have a computer so I apologise I can to the read more thingy

Summary; Loki decides to prank his brother one night and end up becoming a therapist for Y/N, currently the most withdrawn are tough to crack of the bunch, as a snake

Warning; swearing, panic attacks, depression, self-harm, past abuse, past sexual assault, mentions of medical torture, death of a friend, the team seeming like dickheads, I do apologise. Also, may have plugged in my favourite power again…… please don’t hate me, reader is so oblivious it should be illegal. Please don’t read if this triggers you!!

Word count; 2k

Loki slowly slithered down the hallway, scales making a noise very comforting to him against the floor. Being a snake gave him a sense of peace and freedom. Tonight, he was heading for only one room, Thor’s. he hadn’t pranked his brother in a month and felt it was necessary to do so now. As he passed one more door until he reached his destination, he heard sniffling and hiccupping coming from the room. Loki’s curiosity got the better of him and he decided to investigate. The room was dark, though he could make out to outline of a person under the blankets, full on sobbing now. Loki carefully manoeuvred his small form up the bedframe to the person. They were shaking and sobbing rather badly now, he moved under the blankets and towards the person.

Loki was now curled around the persons hand that was currently gripping onto their hair harshly, almost of the verge of ripping it out. He started to lick at anything he could noticing quickly they were caught in a panic. Their panic was crashing down on them, making them unable to see him or even recognize he was there. Their breathing was laboured and harsh as if they had just run a marathon. Loki tightened himself around their hand in the hopes the pain would ground them. He relaxed when he heard them yelp, pulling the blankets off themselves to look down at Loki. Loki’s blood ran cold when he saw their face. There you were, tears staining your face and eyes red raw, confusion setting into your features as you looked down at him.

“thanks,” you said, your voice rough from crying. “I probably would still be panicking without you.” To you Loki was simply a snake looking up at you curiously. Currently Loki’s mind was screaming. What if they knew it was him and got mad for eaves dropping, what that why you were talking to him as you would a person? You were racking a shaky hand through your hair now, looking as though you were battling with yourself. Like you wanted to say something, but you were unsure. Loki was starting to look to find a way out when you started to speak again. “Fuck it, it’s not like I can talk to actual people,” you look Loki in the eye. “Plus, its not like a snake can look at me with pity.” Loki was slightly confused now, wondering where you were going with this. “ok, how should I? you know what ill just start from the beginning and see where I go shall we?” you gave Loki an unsure smile, though it further confused Loki to see how genuine it was.

“I have anxiety and depression. Um, I self-harmed, still do sometimes when it gets too much, I-uh- fuck I don’t know” you were looking across the room now, fiddling with your hands trying to explain. Loki curled up on your lap again and decided to wait for you to continue. It might help and he didn’t want to leave you alone like this, no matter how scary you were. “My parents were, well, they were shit. I was the oldest, so I took most of the attacks they handed out, punishments I took most of even if I wasn’t the one at fault. When I turned ten-” you cut yourself off to wipe away the tears pooling around your eyes “Sorry,” you chocked out as more tears made their way down your face. “Just, give me a second”

Loki continued to patiently wait for you to continue. He was honestly intrigued now. Maybe learning about your past could help him form a bridge between you, especially since you always seemed to distance yourself from everyone. He knew everyone needed someone to lean on. The tears had slowed again, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

“ok, when I turned 14 I was sold off, my parents were fed up of dealing with me and they ripped me away from those I cared about. I was sold at auction from money and given from person to person” your features were changing now, anger contorting your face “I was used as property, a toy, not a person, something people can just own. Used again and again, my innocence ripped from me!” you were yelling now though when you noticed you took a calm breath “sorry. So yes, I was basically a sex toy for gross old men. Though a good thing came from it. When I turned 17, I met a guy called Phoenix. He was, awesome. So genuine, so kind. We were both in this awful situation, but we had each other, we told everything about ourselves to each other and it was a freedom I hadn’t had before them. An actual friend.” The tears had started again but you just wiped them away and continued your story, Loki hadn’t moved yet, frozen in place through the power of your words. “when we were 18, phoenix was taken out the cell one night. Dragged by his hair outside. I remember vividly, we were both crying reaching for each other.” Your hands were clenched in anger now. “THEY SHOT HIM IN THE HEAD RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!” you looked down at the snake in anger, though when your eyes met you tried to breath again, trying to keep calm. After a few minutes of deep breathes you continued once more. “I guess I could say a piece of me was lost that day, I lost the only thing I had left and I just broke. I was numb, I didn’t move, I didn’t eat, I didn’t do anything. When they found I couldn’t be useful as a sex toy anymore they sold me off again. To Hydra. I was subject 1843.” Loki internally gasped instantly, that was them? When the team had last broken into a Hydra base, he remembered reading something about them.

Subject 1843

Reported missing for 9 months.

Uses; medical chemicals for the next generation of super soldiers

Experimental aid

Stress relief

Loki was brimming with anger now. Everyone on the team backhanded them as a spoilt kid who didn’t like people, they all brushed them off ignoring them most of the time as most hand given up even trying to reach out to them. The only ones who still bothered were Cap and Spider ling, and even then, the interactions were slim to none, asking how their day was, that was about it. They kept to themselves otherwise. Loki remembered Bucky being mad because they spoke up about their past being bad and Bucky instantly being mad that they didn’t know what true pain was like. Yet there they were taking every punch and all that pain, emotional and physical from the team, people who are supposed to care about them and they said nothing.

“I was used as a test subject of sorts, chemicals were tested on me first, if I had a reaction, they didn’t use them. Simple as. I was used in experiments, my body was simply theirs to play around with, that explains the butterfly thing. One chemical reacted with him body and now I can create butterflies, somehow. I don’t mind the butterflies are rather calming. Anyway, when I turned 19, I found a way to escape and never looked back. Now I’m here, in bed having panic attacks and refusing help from actual people” you chuckled to yourself without humour “I’m so messed up inside, it doesn’t feel appropriate to reach out to them now, I’ve been so cruel.” Without thinking Loki shakes his head, then both of you freeze. You look down at him curiously. “You understand me?” Loki decided it better if you know and nods his head. “huh, cool,” you said smiling down at him. “ok then, who do you suggest I spoke to, who do you think I should trust?” Loki looks at them ridiculously for a second. They didn’t get he wasn’t a snake? Either way Loki decided to make his way to his own room as you followed behind him, your feet making a gentle pitter patter on the floor.

When they both arrive at his room Loki quickly dodges in before them and changes back sitting on the bed and reading. When you walk in, he looks up at you, trying not to show he already knew why you were there. You stand there for a second looking around the room, clearly searching for the snake, your hands massaging each other nervously. “I have some stuff I want to tell someone, will you let me talk?”

-------------------------------------------------------time skip------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki sat with your head in his lap, after so much crying that night you had exhausted yourself, you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, but he carefully moved so you were more comfortable. Though it wasn’t much he felt, almost at peace. He noticed you had told snake Loki a lot more than him, but the fact you had even spoken up, to him of all people, filled himself with pride, you trusted your instincts and the snake to speak up finally, and relieve yourself of the burden you had carried for so long. Though now he felt it was only his place to explain to the team. Before you had fallen asleep, he had asked you about it. You explained how you wanted to tell them but couldn’t work up the courage. He asked if you wanted him to do it and he agreed, before you passed out on him. He picked you up, placing you under the covers and called out to Friday. “assemble the team in the kitchen, this is important”

When Loki arrived at the kitchen everyone was there, expect for you. “right let’s get this started,” he said, clapping his hands together. “we have a lot to get through” Thor looked at him with confusion “what is this about?”

“all in due time brother”

“what about Y/N we can’t start without them” Cap said looking as confused as the rest of them.

“Let me explain first talk later, I need you full attention” and with that Loki told them everything you told human him. The team were just as shocked as him by the end of the story. Tony, and Bucky looked the most shocked, knowing full well how often they spoke down to them about them not understanding true pain. Cap and Natasha looked appalled both questioning their morals. The whole group sat in silence for a full five minutes, taking in the information. Being disgusted in themselves for their behaviour, not noticing sooner, not recognizing. If only they did more.

“standing here feeling bad isn’t going to do anything about it,” Clint said. “we’re heroes. We save people, and now its our turn to save a friend. So, stop feeling bad for yourselves, you can’t change the past. Come one, let’s go help them” Clint’s speech seemed to take them out their slump, their eyes regaining their life again and a of justice settling into all of them. Its time to do what they did best. Save other.

Over the course of the next 6 months the whole team was kinder, sure you still pushed them away to begin with, but it was better. Some night Loki still came back to your room as a snake, to calm you from panic attacks, and help you sleep. You and human Loki got closer too, you both ended up liking each other a lot, both finding refuge in each other. When Loki confessed to you, you felt free, like the shackles holding you back were breaking apart, your wings were expanding and you were taking flight, away from the suffering, away from the pain, towards freedom, towards love, towards peace. And when you both kissed for the first time you knew you were truly free.

[batgurl1989]

We Meet Again Chapter 2

Summary: Geralt and Younin share a meal and try to figure out where they stand with each other.

Word Count: 1800 ish

Warnings: There are some spoilers for Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt video game.

A/N: Chapter 2 is more introductions to the characters. It drags a little I am sure, but now that we have established them, things should start to pick up. As always if you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :)

Taglist: @rmtndew @princesssterek​

Chapter 1

Chapter Two

The village that had spread out over the years around the Inn at the Crossroads was starting to settle as the sun began to set. Everyone knew that it was wise to be indoors when darkness fell. It had been a while since anything had attacked the village, but no one wanted to risk it. A few nodded to you as they rushed past on their way home from shops and the tavern. The last time a monster had come bumbling through, you had been the one to scare it off, earning yourself some wary respect.

Geralt was standing under the eaves of the Inn, keeping to the shadows. His hood was pulled up over his head, but wasn't covering his eyes. The golden orbs practically glowed as they flicked around, taking note of everything going on around him. Most people either didn't notice him or didn't see him. But you did.

"Geralt." You stopped a few strides away in case you startled him. You knew how quick his reflexes were, and didn't want to put them to the test. His eyes fell on you, and you watched as they scanned you from the top of your red hair down to the muddy travelling boots you wore. "Ready to go in?"

He grunted, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. You smiled to yourself as he caught the door as it swung open, letting a drunk man stumble out into the street. Silently, he gestured for you to enter first. When he wanted to, Geralt could have manners.

The warmth and noise of the tavern greeted you. The smell of stew and fresh bread lingered among the less savory scents of body odor and dirt. Glinda, the bar maid, nodded to you as she flitted by, her tray laden with pints of ale. With her free hand she pointed to a free table in the back where it was quieter.

It wasn't often you brought someone with you to the Inn, and usually when you did it was for work. Glinda tried to look out for you by keeping one of the quieter tables clean and free. You flashed her a smile of appreciation, and made your way through the boisterous crowd to the table. You didn't have to look to know that Geralt followed you. His presence behind you was not easy to ignore as it set the hairs on the back of your neck on alert.

You slid into a seat with your back to the crowd, knowing that it would be more comfortable for Geralt to sit against the wall so he could see the room and any threat that might be coming. Once you both were seated, he slid his hood back, revealing his white hair.

The noise of the crowd behind you dimmed, as their attention was drawn to where you sat. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that half the room was gaping at Geralt, most with open hostility.

"Ignore them." You grumbled, turning back to face your drinking partner.

"Always do." The corner of Geralt's mouth tilted up in almost a smile. You wished, not for the first time, that you knew what he was thinking, but he was so hard to read.

"What can I get for you, dearies?" Glinda rushed over after pushing her way through the crowd.

"Two pints, and some of that stew you have cooking." Geralt nodded over to the large pot bubbling over the fire behind the bar.

"Thanks Glinda." You offered the bar maid another smile before she flitted off again. Staring at the spot where she disappeared, you worked up the courage to talk to the Witcher sitting across from you.

"Triss isn't around either." Geralt answered before you could figure out how to word your question in a way that didn't seem like prying.

"I wasn't trying to..." Your head snapped around as the words died on your tongue. "I heard Keira had found herself a Witcher. I suppose that's not you either."

"Keira Metz is off seeing the world with Lambert." Geralt confirmed what you already knew, but it had worked to buy you time to organize your thoughts.

"Why are you here, Geralt? And don't try to sell me on the herb search. We both know that's horse shite." You raised your eyebrow as you levelled him with a no nonsense look. "I know for a fact there aren't any Witcher contracts currently in circulation, so what is it?"

"I'm just following the Path, and if I see a friend along the way, is that such a crime?" Geralt tried to downplay his appearance on your doorstep.

"'Ere you go, dearies. Enjoy." Glinda set down their pints of ale along with a bowl of hit stew for each of them. And then she was off again to go take care of another customer.

"Depends on what you need with that friend." You tried to keep your emotions under control when you heard him call you a friend. You knew he would hear if your heartrate picked up, but there wasn't anything you could do to stop it from happening.

Geralt took a long draw from his ale, seeming to ponder how to respond. You tucked into your stew as you waited. Eyeing him from under your lashes, you contemplated throwing him a bone. But neither of you said anything as you enjoyed your meal.

You had forgotten what being around him was like. The long stretches of silence. The grunted responses. The alertness that never seemed to leave him entirely. And then there were the things he did for you. The comfort of knowing you had support if you needed it. The confidence he had in your ability that boosted your own.

"I was in Novigrad and heard Dandelion sing a tale of Ciri's exploits in the South." You broke the silence once you were done your stew. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter why he had found you. It was just nice to catch up with an old friend.

"He is going to make her more famous than I am." Geralt grumbled, but you could tell he was proud. And who wouldn't be? Ciri had grown into quite the spectacular woman, and was off following the Path as the only female Witcher.

"I'm glad she made it out of the White Frost safely." You reached across the table to give Geralt's hand a quick but comforting squeeze. The woman he loved as a daughter had almost died saving the world. It was no small feat.

There was a brief moment when your eyes met, and you thought he was finally going to tell you why he had searched you out. But you watched the fleeting moment disappear, and the look in his eyes became closed off once again. Pulling your hand back, you sighed.

"Well, now that you have bought me a meal and a pint, I guess it is time to head home." You pushed your chair back from the table. Nodding your thanks, you turned to make your way back through the crowd.

"Hey Glinda." You called over the din of the tavern patrons once you made it to the bar. Once you had her attention, you slid a couple of coins across the bar top toward her. "Make sure my friend has everything he wants."

"Aye, dearie." Glinda smiled, her round cheeks tinged red from the heat of the tavern. She pocketed the coins before anyone got the funny idea of trying to steal them.

"How much?" The foul smell of vomit and body odor surrounded you as a man leaned over, burying his nose in your hair.

"Excuse me?" You tried to shove him away, but for someone so drunk, his grip was awfully strong. "Get your hand off me!"

Magic lit in your palm, something you didn't do often. A little display of magic was usually enough to knock some sense into a person. It seemed to backfire this time, as he dug his finger tips painfully into your arm, causing you to wince. You were just about to let a small spark escape your palm, when you felt a presence behind you.

"I believe the lady would like to be let go." Geralt kept his voice low, but the threat was loud and clear.

"What's it to you, Mutant?" The drunk turned his attention to Geralt, loosening his grip enough in his distraction for you to slip away from him.

"It's okay, Geralt." You placed a hand in the centre of his chest as he took a step toward the man. "Let's go home."

Geralt glared at the man for a beat longer than you liked as you watched other patrons gather behind the drunk in solidarity. You didn't doubt Geralt could handle them, but you also wanted to be able to stay in this village after tonight. Tapping your fingers on his chest, the small gesture was enough to get him to look at you.

"Let's go." Your voice was firm, and he seemed to respond to it. Nodding, he followed you out of the tavern and into the cooling night. "I know you are used to that reaction, but those are my neighbours and customers in there."

"All of whom just heard you say you were taking me home with you." Geralt practically growled. He gave the tavern one last glare before following you down the road to your place.

"Well I can't trust you anywhere else here right now." You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Gods Geralt! Do you even care that you almost blew it for me in there?"

"Of course I care." Geralt grabbed your unharmed arm firmly, spinning you to face him. "Do you honestly think I don't care?"

"I... I..." You floundered as you searched for the right words. But words had never been what Geralt cared about. Looking up into his glaring golden orbs, you made a decision.

Grabbing the back of his neck, you brought his face crashing down on yours. Your lips met in a furious kiss as you both took your frustrations out on each other. Punishing each other for things that hadn't been said. His teeth grazed your lower lip, ripping a moan from your chest. Your grip on his neck shifted to his hair, pulling on it. Growling against your lips, he pulled her body flush to his.

The Inn door slamming closed was the ice water that brought you back to reality. And the reality was, you were standing in the street making out with a Witcher in full view of the neighbours you wanted to impress. Pushing him away, you straightened your clothes.

"Let's get you home." Geralt cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Good idea." You stomped off in the direction of your house, trying not to care if he followed.

[fuckyeahharryhart]

PART 2 HARRY HART FAN FICTION Because they better give him a good story for the last Kingsman. In case they don’t, I wrote something myself.

PART 2

FAN FIC

KINGSMAN III: REDACTED

MULTI PART SERIES:(My version of Kingsman 3)

Harry Hart x Original Character

Warnings: Reference to violence

Word Count: 5,900

OVERVIEW: After the events of Kingsman, The Golden Circle, Harry, Eggsy and the rest of the survivors rebuild their agency to it’s former level of integrity. A new player arrives unexpectedly, carrying memories of the past that will change the future of Kingsman.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Harry and Eggsy try to discover who this new players is, how they were at the right place and the right time, and what they know about kingsman. A marksman of that caliber isn't someone to take lightly.

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Bloody hell. Harry's hand was still stinging with heated pain from having his key fob, of all bloody things, shot out of hand. His knee was out of sorts from dropping, face down, to the pavement. Hearing gunshots ring out from, not one, but two different directions did not improve his mood or his state of mind.  Continuing to roll as he hit the ground, he switched to his side so he could draw his weapon. But first, he turned toward the direction of the original fire. That was the shooter who caught his interest. A marksman with the precision to shoot a key fob from that distance, within centimetres of his hand without (well without significant) injury was someone not to underestimate. He could make a shot like that. He had plenty of times at the Kingsman shooting range. But that was aiming at a non-moving target in a controlled environment, under the best of circumstances. The only other time he fired a shot that exacting was in Cambodia. While wrestling a certain Agent Whiskey for control of a firearm, he was able to free Eggsy from a lasso looped around his neck by shooting clean through the rope. He assumed landing that shot was 1/4 luck, 1/4 technique and 1/2 his sheer force of will.

Very few marksman possessed the natural talent, training and skill to land that shot. Even less in London proper and he was almost certain that all of those individuals even close to that level, were under Kingsman’s employ.

Under the cover of shadows and partially hidden by a gate column, he spotted the shooter. At the same time, the shooter spotted him and they made split second eye contact. Obviously, the shooter did not want to be witnessed judging from the displeased look that he had noted. But rather than ducking out of view, they kept their stance, provided cover fire until the area was cleared and the threat was gone. And then, without a moments hesitation, the person holstered their weapon and turned abruptly in the opposite direction and began to walk off with long, measured steps. He and Eggsy dusted themselves, gestured to the other, nodded and made off in opposite directions in the attempt to cut the person off at the path. As he smoothed down his suit and adjusted his cuffs, he was quite certain that he was never going to enjoy a peaceful evening again.

——

She didn’t waste valuable seconds checking her phone, grateful that she took the extra time to map her locations in her head. Quickly referring to her orientation, she saw three viable options. Directly in front of her was the Royal Academy. Though it was vast and beautiful and filled with courtyards and eaves, arches, doorways, ideal to drop a tail, it was also closed and quiet. There was no crowd to get lost in. A single person moving in that space would surely be noticed.

She weighed her two other options against each other. Both were about equal in distance. No more than a 10 min walk in either direction. To her right was Mayfair. Situated in the heart of the city, it was one of the most expensive and exclusive areas of London with swanky five-star hotels, shops, restaurants, bars and pubs. Bond Street was sure to be packed with people enjoying the nightlife. Perhaps in another lifetime she could enjoy an evening out in such a place. Not at the moment.

On the plus side, the streets were more random, intersecting at odd places, without the usual grid format. That gave her more exit options. They would less likely follow the same path. Downside, as much as she would enjoy an elegant evening out, she was not appropriately attired. Of course, there would be the usual strong of tourists and visitors that would be similarly inappropriately attired. Even though she would blend in with part of the crowd, she didn’t want to stand out in anyway. Plus, if she needed to tuck into a shop or a restaurant, she wanted to blend with the locals and not the tourists. And she wasn’t going to do that with her nondescript outfit.  Or, she would find herself in a situation where someone would ask to take her jacket. She would have to politely refuse because of her shoulder holster and her gun. They would insist. Then it would become an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved. Awkward and uncomfortable would be hard NOT to notice.

A ten minute walk to her left would drop her in ever trendy Soho. A little louder, a little more rowdy and relaxed, Soho was more happy hour than cocktail hour. The way there would have more traffic, both car and pedestrian, but it was also more direct and brightly lit. More importantly, she would be able to blend with the locals, not just the tourists. Maybe even slip into a pub or bar for the glass of wine she so desperately could use. There would be more viable places to manuever, evade, and find cover. More opportunity to lose a tail. And less likely for a messy confrontation.

Though she didn’t stick around long enough, she was fairly certain that the two men were following her.  She kept in mind that they were trained with the same skills and likely had the same natural talent and instincts as she did. Part of her plan was to move slightly against instinct, find the ideal move and then, proceed with something slightly different. But they had to be thinking the same thing.

Shit. The shooters might still be in the area. Depending on whether or not they had backup, if this was an isolated threat on a personal level or if was on an organisational level, she couldn’t be sure that the coast was clear in that direction. When in doubt, take precaution. There were too many unknowns, too many unanswered questions and her preference was to get away without further contact. Since she couldn’t do it clean, she wanted to avoid any additional messiness.

Typical, she thought, making her way through the last of the shoppers and the first of the evening revellers. At the moment she was making progress and feeling more in control of her circumstances, some prick with a gun comes in and has to spray bullets over all the blocks that she spent the last month building. With care and precision, she arranged and rearranged, stacking and re-stacking, until she had created a platform where she could make her move. All her variables were in place. She calculated the possible outcomes and was so close to having a plan. There was some satisfaction, knowing that she had put an equal damper on their scheme, but when success of their plan meant the death of two people, and her plans would only work if those two people were alive, It didn’t leave her much of a choice.

Evasion was as much about mindset as it was movement. She took a mental pause, reset her outlook. Plans only fail if you allowed them to fail.  Plans change and hers just did. Focus on clearing out first and then she could regroup and consider her options. If she let her frustrations distract her, she would end up missing details and she had not come this far to make bad decisions. Even in the smallest circumstances, she learned how to turn off emotions, cutting off thoughts and inconvenient emotions. Unfortunately, it was usually the thoughts about the situation she was in, that caused troubling emotions, such as her frustration at the turn of events. But if she walled off those thoughts for the time being, she would be more likely to operate with logic and clarity.

To her advantage, she had a head start, she knew the situation she was dealing with, two known variables on her tail, one unknown threat that could possibly be armed and still in the area. Likely, all three of them knew the area so there was no upper hand in that case. Two would be on foot, probably split to cover more area. It was to her disadvantage that there were two of them, but would be easier to confront them individually if it came to that.

She assumed that they also saw her as a threat. Regardless whether or not her actions had saved their lives, she was still an unknown, an armed and dangerous, one at that. She had to expect hostility, possibly aggression if confronted. It was a situation she would prefer to avoid.

Her steps were light and relaxed. She paced herself neither too fast, nor too slow. Rushing would call attention. She avoided looking around overtly, but she used her periphery to scan the people and places around her. On the plus side, two handsome men in Saville Row bespoke would definitely turn heads. Especially the tall one, who stood inches over the average person. They couldn’t take off their suit coats either. Not with their own weapons and shoulder holsters.

She took a quick left off the main road. A few blocks over and then she could make another turn toward Soho and break up the straight line she was currently traveling. Maybe stop in Central for a quick diversion. Stay on the move. Be aware of her surroundings. Those were her two priorities. Casually checking her 360 along the way by using any reflections she saw, footsteps, noises she heard, neck stretching every few steps to check blind spots. And for a little while, she did just fine.

That is, until she found herself caught in a standing rear choke hold. Fuck.

———

Wherever the hell this person had materialised from, Harry thought, these were not the customs of a novice agent. From weaponry, tactics and evasion, their actions were one hundred percent on point. They should be only a suggestion in the wind by now. The single reason he was able to catch them unaware was because of new Kingsman tech. Just developed, airborne nano GPS trackers. Designed to mark a large group of targets from a distance, they were tiny particles, almost invisible by the naked eye. Programmed to navigate toward the wavelengths of infrared radiation emitted by the human body, specifically at the signature of 12 micron.  Best for outdoor use, or in large open spaces, these capsules were broken and released into the air where the prevailing wind would transport the nano GPS transmitters and attach to the nearest known radiation signature. The tracking range could vary depending on the windspeed, air density and how many capsules were released. They were handy to track large crowd movement, not typically used to track a single person. But it was all he had on hand. Since the street was empty at the time, they had a good chance that some GPS attached. Using the process of elimination to rule out unintentional attachments, they could isolated the movement they were looking for. They were looking for someone who moved like a spy.

This person, whoever they were, made all of the decisions that he would have and then added some surprise evasion tactics that he wouldn’t have thought of. They surely would have gotten away if not for the trackers. It wasn’t absolutely necessary that they locate the person. But they were an unknown entity. He wasn’t sure if they were an adversary, an ally, or a neutral player. Neutral players were not known for being experts at tradecraft. That left adversary or ally. With the events of the past two years and the most recent destruction of Kingsman by the Golden Circle, unanswered questions usually returned on their own, carrying an unfavourable answer.  Granted, the person saved their lives, but they already knew too much of Kingsman. Knew of threats of which Kingsman was not aware. So when chance invited him to make a move, to quietly sneak behind the person at the last second, he took it.

——

This is not why I spent four weeks planning, she fumed silently. Her mood was grim. Of course it would be at this exact moment that she registered the slightest contact from behind, like a passing breeze brushing against her. But she knew displaced air when she felt it.  Based on her position, facing forward, added to the position he was in, directly behind her, also facing forward, that would have to equal a rear standing choke hold. Instantly, she countered, dropping her chin to her chest like it belonged there, denying him the chance to press his forearm against the front of her neck. A chokehold had two purposes, either to crush the windpipe, resulting in death. Not the outcome she was looking for. Or, to cut off blood to the brain via the carotid artery, leaving her unconscious. Which wasn’t much of a consolation prize. Either way, she had just about 12 seconds to act. Since both options were less than desirable, she shielded her throat as best she could and waited for the window were she could counter like a small, but fierce animal.

The strength of his grip said that he wasn’t going for either option, but told her he using the hold as a restraint. So, she had that going for her, she thought darkly. Yet, he still had the capacity to follow through on either option. There was no give to his grip. Twisting out of the hold was not an option without more leeway. Not one to be held in a vulnerable position, her goal was to escape. Several ways presented themselves, few of which incorporated an unrestrained elbow or kick to the groin. Her aim was not to incapacitate, regardless of how satisfying that may be, but to extricate herself.

Based on sheer size and strength, she was highly disadvantaged. But, as a woman in the field, only relying on your strength, you’d get beaten every time. Women didn’t have to fight harder. They had to fight smarter. Not only did she have to use her size and weight to her advantage, she had to use his size and strength against him. With the obvious discrepancy in height, not that she was short. Five foot nine made her taller than average, but at 6’ 2”, he was also taller than average. Her best option? Leverage. Literally.  Use him as lever. It was the move where he would be at a disadvantage and she would have the clear advantage. There was some consolation to be found, knowing they were also expert spies, but not enough to spare herself the embarrassment of being caught. Summoning her nerve, one deep inhalation, she thought, and she would be ready.

He smells nice.

The thought landed without warning. It didn’t merely land. It hit her. It hit her hard and with feeling. Her concentration stuttered. It was the scent of wood, leather, spices and a hint of something warm, rich and slightly sweet, like a velvety dark chocolate. And then there was a breath of something unexpected. A note she couldn’t identify. It was him, she realised. That was his smell. It was a good smell. A masculine smell. She was suddenly aware of his wool suit against her chin. She noticed the pinstripes against a navy as dark as the sky. The crisp white of his French shirt cuffs and the gold of his cufflinks that held them in place.

Her senses were wide open. They always were on hyperdrive when she was out in the field. That was expected. She relied on them to send her signs that she didn’t have the time to look for. But now, they were receiving all the wrong signals and sending all the wrong messages. Intensely. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shadow of his hand. His large, wide palm was warm on the back of her neck.  By pressing her neck forward and down, it was this hand that locked the chokehold in place.

What the hell? she thought. She felt the strength of his forearms underneath her own palms. Her hands were gripping him so tightly she could feel the cords of muscle through his sleeve. Suddenly, her body became all too aware of his own. The sensation of him, the entire length of his body against hers, awakened her own. He wasn’t just standing behind her, he was bearing the whole of his body into hers. Thus, she was counter balancing with equal force. Generating heat and pressure between them.  Realising how close, how intimate, how physical, literally, their contact was at that moment, overwhelmed her reason, her logic, her objectivity. And most of all, she was aware of the man behind her. Not as a target, or a mark, or a tail or a problem to be solved. It was him. It was Harry Hart.

He must have sensed a slight shift in her energy because once that random, startling thought struck home, she didn’t dare move until she knew where it was heading and what she was going to do with it. She probably stopped breathing. Maybe that’s what he noticed because all of a sudden she felt dizzy and lightheaded. Maybe he was holding her a little tighter than she thought. He must have noticed a change because just as suddenly, his grip loosed by a fraction, not enough to escape, but enough to jar her back to the present. He was confusing her and she was angry at being confused.

She was on pause and someone had just hit the reset button. Instantly, she made her next move and she went into action fully committed. There was no hesitation in a move like this. To her advantage, their height difference meant that he had to lean down slightly to get his forearm around her neck, which shifted his center of gravity slightly forward. With his tight grip, she pushed against it, creating the energy of opposing forces to gain momentum. With her neck guarded by her chin, she quickly dropped down to one knee, gripped tightly onto his wrists and forearms, leaned back into him to get the tiniest bit of additional momentum, and then bent forward as sharply as she could from her waist, throwing the full force of her weight into the move and tucking in as tight as possible. Sure enough, with his weight already off center, using her body as a fulcrum, a pivot point, and using his height as a lever, she forced him to tumble over her head.

Normally, after a move such as this, that put her at a tactically advantageous position, she would either evade or go in for an attack move and neutralise the threat. This was not the way she wanted to introduce herself to these two men, but it looked like fate wasn’t giving her any options. She was not prepared for this situation. She didn’t have claim over the next move.  It could be either of theirs. Brushing her hair away from her eyes, she cursed herself for not having a hair tie, of all things. She paused for a moment. Her cap got knocked off during her manoeuvre. Wonderful, all these identifiers, now facial features, and the damn hair. She should handover her passport and smartphone and just get it over with. How did this evening turn so sideways?

She took a mental pause. Footsteps. His colleague. Who didn’t know what he was walking into. She quite certain it did not look like afternoon tea.

When she heard the brushing noise of a weapon being pulled out of its holster she went back on high alert. They had most definitely past the “direct contact” portion of the evening. As much as she did not want to do them harm, she was more than willing to talk, she equally, did not want to be on the interrogation end of a gun. She had another split second to decide her course of action. Two was much more complicated.

All three of them knew the rules of weaponry in the field and in engagement. Never pull a gun in a circumstance you’re not willing to use it. Never aim at a target you’re not willing to shoot. It wouldn’t have been her first choice, but when she had a lethal weapon aimed in her direction, it left her with few options.

She never had an opportunity to use it before, but it was ideal for this circumstance and what she had planned. She palmed her carbonfiber graphene tactical knife, short, less than 5”in length, from its discreet sleeve at her hip.  It’s description stated, “A device for specific close quarters combat manoeuvres in very focused special circumstance scenarios with high impact.” This circumstance would fall under that category, she thought.

The upper hand was all she needed to gain, to have a moment where they would be forced to listen to her. Grace, eloquence… She tossed those out the proverbial window. Her words would have the hardest strike. The most impact. Not her knife, not her gun, not any weapon. Now was not the time for finesse.  Once again, she had to turn shitty odds in her favours before the man she just flipped could reorient himself.  She wanted to be sorry that it had come to this, but she was just making her counter move. It didn’t matter if it was personal or not. This part, at least for her, was the business aspect of her work. Similar to negotiating a deal, but using weapons and lives as bargaining points.

The knife firmly in her grip, she raised the blade and held its lethal edge against his carotid artery with enough pressure to be VERY uncomfortable, and almost, but not break skin. He was smart and followed the direction guided by pressure of her blade hand and rose with her to a standing position. She stood behind him, angled slightly toward one side. He knew that any counter move on his part, which there were many he could take, and in this case his strength and mass would be at his advantage. She was in a very vulnerable physical position and he could take her down easily. If it weren’t for the knife at the side of his neck. The blade was very small, very light and most of all, it was very, very sharp and designed for close, personal combat.  Easy to handle, low pressure point. Which meant, whether or not his move disabled her he would, no doubt, be pulling away with nothing less than a very serious neck wound.

“Stop.” she called out firmly. “Gun down on the ground.”

The man who was under her knife, indicated, Do what she says.

He placed his gun on the ground and stood with his hands in the air.

She knew he was weighing his options, just as she did her own.

Her voice was clear and just loud enough so he could hear her where he stood.

Seriously, like this was what she needed. Did they really have to go through all this fuss?  Spies could be exhausting.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

She kept her voice conversational. Of no consequence or concern and certainly not threatening.

“Do you have enough time to disarm me and get help for your friend, Harry, before he bleeds out?”

She felt the slightest flinch when he heard the sound of his name. Not Arthur or Galahad. His given name.

“You’re quite fast, Eggsy, but not that fast.”

Now Eggsy’s turn as his eyes narrowed both suspicious and surprised. Not Galahad. Not even Gary, but Eggsy.

Ok, making progress, she thought. She had just shown her first card. She knew exactly who they were. Not just their code names. Their real ones.

To drive her point home.  “Just the tiniest amount of pressure on his carotid artery, thats all I need. 68 seconds until he loses consciousness. My knife, which you probably can’t see from where you are standing, but he can certainly feel,” she nodded her head toward Harry, “is designed to pierce fast and deep. If I had a regular blade, he might come out clean, but not with this one. Please, sincerely, think twice, for his sake, about making any sudden movements.”

Good. Neither of them made an attempt to move. Not even a twinge. She continued. She didn’t know how long the odds would be in her favour. At this point, she was playing fast and loose. Something she rarely did and she was not used to. One of her biggest strengths was her ability to prepare. This was not a scenario that she had imagined.

“I know either of you could disable me, but not without me doing a fair amount of damage first.”

It wouldn’t be her first choice to do harm, but she was in no mood for additional fuckery and she wanted to make it abundantly clear that, though she was no match for them in terms of brute strength, she had plenty of ways to dominate a fight using strategy. She wasn’t stronger, but she could be smarter. She wasn’t above shedding blood to prove that she was not to be underestimated.

“I didn’t start this fight, but I’m more than happy to finish it.”

She added, “You see how well trained I am. You should be asking yourself why i haven’t killed him, or either of you, already.”

Did they really have to be so obstinate? Obstreperous. Truculent?  They should have been asking themselves that question after she took the first shot. They could very easily be dead right now if it were not for her.  She needed to prove to them she was not a threat to their lives. Against all of her training, she laid her second card down.

 “And ask yourself,” she repeated. “perhaps why, then, I would let him go.”

Very carefully, very slowly, and very deliberately, she softened the pressure against his neck until the blade was no longer making contact. She continued to draw it far away from him, far enough to clear so not to do any damage, before she began to lower it. She took a few steps back, hands up, the knife still visible in her right, but with a carry hold, not an active grip.

Imagine her surprise when Harry turned on her, twisted her wrist until she had to drop the knife. Not without force. She resisted the split second she saw what was happening. She knew in this case, she didn’t have an immediate out, but that didn’t mean she had to make it easy for him. Rather than conserving her energy, she fought him and fought him with force, until she saw his face grimace with the effort.

Good, she thought.

She made some pretty satisfying contact before he was able to push her all the way back against the red brick warehouse. The wall gave her less room to maneuver. She landed one last, very satisfying kick to his shin. It wasn’t a fancy move. There was no technique involved. She just put all her grit behind that single kick and the connection she made was very gratifying, despite her situation. She hoped it left huge bruise to remember her by. It was obviously painful and hurt him enough that he shoved her away fairly hard. The back of her head knocked into the bricks with a force that she wouldn’t have considered gentlemanly.

Well, she did have a knife to his carotid just a few moments ago, she countered. She supposed turn about was fair play. This time, he was able to get his forearm across her throat and braced his right wrist with the circle of his left hand. Standing arm bar hold. She had no counter this time, seeing since Eggsy had his gun again and it being much harder to escape a bullet than a choke hold. So, that move did not have the impact that she thought it would.

She knew they had to have this conversation, but she was pissed. At them, but she admitted, begrudgingly, that she was mostly pissed at herself for letting her guard down. To be fair, they really had no idea who she was. And until they did, she would remain a threat. But she still had one more card. She was just waiting for the chance to use it.

——

What the bloody fuck had just happened? Harry Hart was not one to get caught off guard. But he was miffed that it happened this evening. Not only once, but three bloody times, and he had just quite enough of whatever fuckery was happening around him. First, the key fob, then the chokehold, then the bloody knife. Well, my dear, he thought, two can play this game. He wasn’t above fighting dirty. Sometimes the situation insisted on it. It seemed as if this was one of those times.

As soon as she let down her guard sufficiently enough for him to act, he twisted her arm, forcing her to drop the knife. But she wasn’t making things easier for him, or for herself, for that matter. Even though he clearly had the upper hand, she fought him the entire time. She, too, apparently wasn’t above a little dirty dealing when she landed a kick to his shin. A very hard, directed kick, not meant to disable, not in an attempt to escape, a kick just purely meant to cause him pain. A bit more than cheeky. He finally pushed her, maybe just a tad harder than he anticipated, until her head knocked back and hit the warehouse wall behind her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eggsy had taken the opportunity to retrieve his gun and provide cover. Her eyes quickly darted in the same direction, confirmed the same thing that he saw and then stared at him furiously. Whether the fury was directed toward him or to her change in circumstance, most likely both, he could not be certain.

Making sure his arm bar would prevent any further roughhousing, Harry spoke, adopting almost the same conversational tone as she had. She wasn’t sure if he was matching her tone to respect her or mock her. This time she felt free to show as much aggression as she felt like. There was no consequence at this point. She tossed her damn hair out of her face.

——

As she flipped her hair to the side, Harry, by instinct, began to document her features so, if needed, he could provide a detailed description of her should it ever become necessary. Tall, 5’ 8 1/2 - 9. Slim build, but athletic, lean muscular rather than simply thin. Age was hard to determine, she looked both very young, but her eyes, they were both wise and melancholy. A look that only came with time and experience. Her eyes seemed to say that they had already seen too much. She was anywhere from mid twenties to mid thirties. He noticed that her eyes were grey. Grey, and they had a slight almond shape to them. Tilted just enough to give her an air of mystery. Dark lashes, dark hair and much of it. Long. Wavy. It was shiny and looked very soft. Dusky fair skin with just an undertone of warm olive. Cheeks pink, with displeasure, he thought, or embarrassment, certainly not because she was flattered by the attention. Her mouth was small and delicate, her lips pressed together in a firm line. Also pink. She was quite becoming. Beautiful even. He tried to determine her ethnicity, but found himself unable to place her exotic, yet subtle, delicate features.

Harry caught himself.  He wasn’t just documenting her features. It wasn’t bloody like him.These were not the most appropriate thoughts for the moment.

She noticed him noticing her. She didn’t know what he was noticing, so she grew even more frustrated. She obviously didn’t care about keeping her expressions to herself any longer. It was quite loud and clear what she was thinking. It was written all over her face.

He came back to his words. In his calm, deep voice, he asked her three simple questions.

“Who are you? Who do you work for, and why did you shoot at us?”

A firm set to her jaw and with equal composure, she answered his questions without hesitation, but in her own order.

“I” she emphasised, “didn’t shoot at you.” she added under her breath, “I was aiming for your key fob.”

“I work for no one.” She halted, her eyes pulling their full attention to hers.

She laid down her last card.

“My name is Gwendolyn Mycroft.” she took a meaningful pause. “My father saved your lives.”

Glancing between the two of them, she saw that, as she intended, she had hit home. She added.

‘So, I suggest you release me, and let us go to a place where we can discuss this in a more civilised manner.”

She saw that both of the men were in a state of shock. She could understand. The evening hadn’t gone the way she expected either. She waited for a response that was something other than a blank stare.

“Do you like scotch?” Eggsy asked.

Well, that was a good of a start as any.

-----

If you made it this far, Thanks for reading!! Comments, questions, likes are always appreciated. Always feel free to reblog.

[anabe23bookwormstuff]

Hiding  (Note: If anyone knows how to activate the read more option please tell me hehe, I feel guilty that my stories might show up to people who don’t care at all about this but still have to scroll all the way just to get rid of it, thank you.)

Ben and Rey had gone back to the base and then out again a couple of times now, Poe was getting better at being the general and he and Finn were excellent at dividing the job.

Slowly the planets were going back to normal and things were getting better around the galaxy, except for a few places and some people, including Chewie and other people at the base who just couldn't stand Ben yet.

"Give it time" Rey said rubbing Ben's arm as the both leaned their heads on a concrete wall far from where a group of people ate.

"I'm just tired of continuously having to prove people here that I'm not the same... I- I've really tried Rey" he played with her hand to avoid looking her in the eye, trying to poorly conceal what he was feeling, but Rey could feel his emotions through their bond.

"Maybe, I don't know, if you help out Poe or something..." Rey sighed because she also didn't know how to proove people that Ben wasn't Kylo and that he didn't want to rule over people with fear anymore. The fact that many people kept suggesting that she and Ben should rule the galaxy because they were doing such a good job at bringing the balance back wasn't helping either. Some people still feared that this was all a plan of Kylo to get back the galaxy... and they were too scared.

"I'm gonna try to talk to them, child" Someone's voice said in front of them. They both straightened but didn't let go of their hands.

"Maz" Ben greets her, a little surprised that she was listening to their conversation.

"You little Solo, be patient" she patted his arm lovingly and smiled at Rey, then walked away leaving them alone again.

Ben sighed but smiled a little.

"Little Solo..." he murmured making Rey smile.

They both knew it had been a long time since Ben was little which only added to him feeling like maybe it was late for him to show people that he wasn't bad.

"Stop" Rey said.

"It's not fair okay? Let's jut let it go for now. Do you want to train or something? we still have time before we go and meet with Poe and the others" Rey offered taking her new lightsaber from the waist of her pants and tilted her face tentatively.

"Okay" He followed her on their way outside the camp, so the incident they had a month ago wouldn't repeat itself.

Ben got distracted with the memory of him and Rey apologizing again and again with Kayleen for accidentaly slicing her food tray and her backpack, Rey tried to warn him but it was too late when he collapsed onto someone or something... it felt hairy.

He only recognized Chewbacca after he screamed.

"I'm sorry let me help you" Ben said bending down to pick up the things that had scattered on the ground after bumping into him.

Chewie argued and pushed Ben away.

"Sorry" he murmured again watching Chewie walking fast out of there.

"He will change his mind soon" Rey tried to say to make Ben feel better.

"He's right. I've done enough, at least enough harm" Ben felt a sting of pain when the hurt Wookie shouted at him those words, because he knew he was talking about killing his father.

He didn't let Rey touch him and instead walked back to his quarters, the idea of playing around with their lightsabers wasn't fun anymore.

Rey kicked a rock away and then decided to go and look for Maz.

She found her discussing with Poe and feared that maybe the gattering had already started but Poe calmed her down.

"You still have thirty minutes to do as you wish before we meet here" He told her nudging her a little.

"Okay, can I steal Maz from you for a moment then?"

"Sure" Maz walked away with Rey until she turned back and called for Poe's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Do you hate Ben?" the question took Poe by surprise, he was certainly not expecting it. He pondered about the question. Ben Solo was... a little intimading at times, just because he carried a lot of confidence and control everywhere, not in a bad way but in a good one, he was Han and Leia's son after all. Ben... it was weird thinking about him ever being Kylo Ren before but honestly his behaviour was nothing like it. Since he came to the base back with Rey he hadn't been nothing but kind and patient.

Hell, even when some people threw things at him the moment he stepped into the resistance he didn't fight back, and didn't complain when the medical aid refused to take care of him, only thanking Rey when she convinced them to help him.

He wouldn't say that they were friends to be exact... but he wouldn't say there were enemies anymore or that he found his company annoying.

"I don't hate him, we're not the best friends but... I think he's okay" Poe shrugged apologetically not knowing if that was the answer she was waiting for.

"And how did you realize that you didn't hate him, more exactly when did you noticed that Ben wasn't the same as Kylo Ren?" What was with Rey and all her weird questions?...

"I guess I just... notice it a little bit more everyday. He's different from the person who once wanted to rule the galaxy and break everyone and everything that got in his way, I don't know Rey" she nodded and then walked back to Maz.

"Did he gave you the answer you were hoping for?" she asked.

"Not really, but it's still useful"

"You want to help him" Maz wasn't asking, she was stating the obvious.

"I just don't want him to feel bad, and I really want people to trust him" she sigged.

"Well you can't just force people to like someone, it has to be a decision made by everyone, in their hearts."

"I know... but he really has been so patient, and so good..." she looked into the distance with a sad smile on her face, thinking of all the ways Ben was so different from Kylo.

"Rey, this is part of his destinity too. Another thing he'll have to endure and come out successfully, I hope, but you can't accelerate that process. For example, the time it took you to feel better about Han's death, was not the same it took Chewie, it still isn't. It wouldn't be correct to force them to change their minds dear."

"I guess you're right... Still I'll try to help Ben staying positive. And if you could talk to Chewie... just once, it would mean a lot to him. I notice... how it pains him. He can take the hate from strangers but from Chewie, it's too much and he feels so much despair." Rey felt her heart clenching on her chest, a reflex of what Ben's heart felt like when Chewie shouted those words at him.

It was what she'll imagine she would've felt if she had gone on her quest to exegol without Leia's blessing, or the time she stabbed Kylo, or when she found out what happened to her parents.

"Your mind is racing Rey, I promise to try okay? Now rest a little before the meeting starts.

She thanked Maz and decided to take a walk around to come back later.

The truth was that she wasn't really in the mood for Poe to order her to go to another planet and solve lots of problems, being honest Rey wanted to rest. Maybe for a week? That would be nice, she thought.

She sat at the edge of a stone looking at the trees and flowers around her, there was a very small stream of water going around and she let her thoughts go, focusing only on the path the water followed.

She sighed and wished Luke or Leia were there to guide her. She wanted to help, yes. If the people thought she should rule the galaxy then maybe she'll end up doing it but... was that what she really wanted?

Before she could torture herself more with her questions the calling for the meeting rang on her ears. She took a deep breath and headed back, when she got there she noticed Ben wasn't there.

A few moments later he arrived and joined the group of people around Finn and Poe and a big map of the galaxy.

"First of all thanks for being here" Poe started.

"Recently things are going better in almost all plantes and it's a pleasure to announced that they have all decided to vote for a leader of the galaxy" Finn said. A few screams from the group could be heard and many heads turned to Rey, Ben's too.

"When are we voting" Kaydel asked excited.

"We don't have that much information yet since the planets have just agreed to it, but I hope very soon we get the details" Once again the people cheered.

Ben gave Rey a silent nod and she let go of some of the tension that was acumulating on her body without noticing.

"Do you know where we have to head now Poe?" Rey asked trying to change the subject.

"Oh yeah, talking about that, you're presence was requested on Keetar Rey... but just yours. I'm sorry Ben, this time they only want to talk to her". So they weren't fond of Ben, Rey thought.

"For how long are they requesting my... stay?"

"Three days"

"And why do they need me so bad? Not that I don't want to help but it just... seems weird"

"They're actually doing okay but like in Naboo there are still a couple of places where the stormtroopers camp, they've asked them to leave but even if they haven't been agresive about it, they said they won't go." Finn said.

"Maybe I can go with her, make them change their mind" Jannah offered from the other side of the circle.

"Well yeah, if you'd like to" Poe shrugged and Jannah waited for Rey's response.

"Sure, thanks" she answered quickly but not with enthsiasm.

The reunion went on and on until their attention went away and they started talking about some game they played the other day. Rey was getting a headacke and retired to her room leaving the people behind.

She plopped on her bead and covered her eyes with her forearm, taking a deep breath.

"I really want those vacations" she murmured.

A knock on the door distracted her and D-O asked for her who it was.

"Can I come in, Rey?" Ben's deep voice said from the other side.

"Yeah" she sat on the bed and thanked the droid.

Ben was unsure of wheter Rey was mad about him eaving earlier so instead of sitting beside her he chose to lean on the table a little far from her.

"How are you... handleling the news?"

"Well... I think you know" she shrugged.

"I'm sorry Rey" what? she thought.

"I had time to think and I'll... just be patient. More. Sorry for leaving like that before." He looked at her the whole time.

"It's okay Ben. I run too... when I'm not sure of what to do or... I just don't want to think about something" she fell back on the bed and shook her head.

She felt Ben's weight sinking the matress a little.

"You can do this Rey, we did it Naboo"

"That's not what I'm worried about... what if they want me to rule...? what if I can't rule with you?" her voice went down and down until her whispers were almost not noticeable.

"We're going" Ben announced taking her hand and slowly lifting her from the bed.

"Where?"

"To practice" Ben side smiled at her and tapped the lightsaber still on her waist band.

She followed him and directed him to the course Leida had prepared for her, it was the first time that Ben would see it.

"Once... through our bond, you made me fail the training" Rey declared taking off the helmet they used to cover their eyes and practiced their reflexes.

"How do you know I did it? Maybe you're just making excuses because that day you didn't feel like training" Ben teased.

"I felt you. I got really mad" she shot him a death stare but she was also smiling.

"Who knows" Ben shrugged and they laughed.

"Come on, we're still missing a part" Rey ran off and then took a big jump to get on top of a rock and climb all the way up, Ben shook his head and soon followed her. As they ran she took out her saber and activated it, momentarily running backwards to point at Ben, defying him.

"Got you!" Rey exclaimed when her yellow saber collided into Ben's teal one.

They flowed around each other, fighting but no really, they moved in sinchronicity almost like dancing, and their moves weren't meant to hurt, but to find each other.

Ben's saver made an X with Rey's one as they both tried pushing the other away.

"Why did you chose to come and train?" Rey asked him.

"It's what you wanted to do earlier, because you knew it would distract me, just like I know it distracted you"

She finally pushed him away and Ben blocked her next move.

"I don't think I'm ready to rule anyone Ben" She admited as they fought each other.

"You still have time" he reasured her.

"Can't I just bring balance from the comfort of my bed?!" she exclamied making Ben laugh and losing his balance for a second. Rey turned of her saber and helped him stand.

Their faces were now too close and Ben's cheeks were a little red from the exercise, and his wild hair was pushed with the wind. Rey softly smiled.

"Maz is really going to help, and we'll find a way to prove everyone that you've changed" she said, almost on his lips.

Ben turned off his saber and grabbed her arms.

"It's okay Rey" he noticed the blush on her cheeks and her ears, her buns still in place with only a few strands of hair falling on her face, he brushed it behind her ear.

"If I'm meant to rule... I don't want to do it without you" she admitted in a low voice and her brows furrowed with fear.

"Only fate knows what's going to happen, and it will be the right thing" Rey couldn't hear more of Ben's positive words and also couldn't resist anymore the urge to kiss him, so she leaned in and his hands went from her arms to her waist, Rey then rested her own on Ben's neck and shoulder.

Their kiss was full of energy, trying to make the other feel good and relieved while the adrenaline of the saber battle still made their hearts race and their hands shake a little.

"I;m going to miss you" Ben said when they broke appart.

"Ugh, there's where I'm going to start and make them change their minds about you" Rey closed her eyes and rested her head on Ben's shoulder. He chuckled.

"Do you want to go back?" Ben asked later.

"Yeah... I think we may have missed dinner" She said and smiled a little, biting her lip.

"Well, if we did then our only hope is that Poe saved something for us" Ben said taking her hand as they started walking.

Soon enough they were on the eating are only to find it almost empty. Rey feared that maybe they indeed missed dinner but then someone tapped her shoulder.

"I knew you'll come. Late but, oookay. Hi Ben" Kaydel cheerfully said before directing them to another table and then handing them each a tray with today's interesting soup for dinner and what looked like some kind of potato pure with a very small piece of meat.

"Thanks Kaydel" Ben was ahead of Rey.

"You're welcome" she dismissed him with her hand and then urged them to eat or it would get cold.

"What about you?" Rey asked.

"I've already eaten, don't worry. Poe feared for a second that maybe you ran off somewhere far away... with the news he gave you" Rey's friend played with a fork while talking. "But I knew you were here somewhere." she smiled at them.

"Yeah... I was really hoping not to talk about it... anymore" Rey said covering her mouth while chewing.

"Yes yes. Of course, I understand. So... Ben, how are you going to miss Rey while she's gone?" Kaydel friendly slapped Ben's arm.

He was taken aback and chocked a little on his soup, after coughing he cleared his voice and answered.

"Well... I'm gonna miss her a lot" he shily admited. He wasn't used to people being that friendly or straightforward with him, or being so open about his feeling with someone who wasn't Rey, but he didn't want to make Kaydel think he was rude.

"Guys!" she prolongued the s sound a little.

"You two are so cute. I hope Leia could see you like this" to her mention both Ben and Rey stopped eating for a bit.

"Yeah... I also wish she could she us" Rey mumbled.

Ben took her free hand and squeezed it a little. He didn't feel like he had the right to say anything, he had saved Rey, and regreted all his bad desicions and still he'll never feel worthy of talking about his mom. Not until he found a way of somehow repay her for all the wrongs he had done.

Kaydel sighed and changed the subject, entertaining them with a silly story of something that happened to her yesterday and then said goodbye to let them finish eating.

"Is she always that..."

"Crazy?" Rey finished for Ben and they laughed.

"I was going to say energetic"

"Yeah... she always is" They took their trays to the place where they collected them and said goodbye to the few people still there.

"Would you sleep with me tonight... please?" Rey asked on their way to the rooms.

"Sure..." Ben offered her a kind smiled and followed her in.

[classysassy9791]

Sometimes its the quieter moments that speak the loudest. A story of love, laughter, and friendship carried through the years during the most wonderful season of all. Full of fluff and Christmas cheer. Interconnecting One-shots.

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Friendship Pairings: InuKag, MirSan, SessKagu Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l

Chapter 3: Spirit of the Season Word Count: 1170 Can also be found here

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“Come on, Inuyasha!”

Kagome pulled on the sleeve of his jacket insistently. He shot her an annoyed look as he slipped on his winter boots. “I’m comin’,” he grumbled in return, as she tugged on his elbow again.

She worried her bottom lip nervously as her eyes kept stealing glances at the time. “We’re going to be so late!” she reminded him with a groan. “We’re going to miss it.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes as he stood and grabbed his scarf off the hook in the entry way. “We are not gonna miss it,” he assured. “We have plenty of time.”

“We have fifteen minutes!” Kagome emphasized sharply, tugging open the front door and allowing the chilly winter air to bite at her cheeks. “I bet Sango and Miroku are already there.”

“Great, they can save us a good spot,” he said with a smirk, receiving a glare from the girl in front of him.

He closed the door behind him and shuffled out into the snow. Stars illuminated the night sky and he could clearly see his breath fogging in the frigid air. The entire street was pristine and white thanks to the snowfall hours earlier. Even the dark green of the pines was mostly coated in crystalline snow.

Inuyasha could have stood there drinking it all in, listening to the silence that hung so thickly in the air, but the girl ahead of him wasn’t about to hear of it. Cheeks flushed pink from the cold, Kagome spun on her heel to face him and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

“Inuyasha, come on,” she prodded again, narrowing her eyes as she pouted.

Despite Kagome’s frustration, he grinned. With each step, he heard the soft crunch underfoot as he hurried to catch up to the impatient girl. “I’m coming,” he called, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck.

It was nearly midnight on the last day of November. Every year the entire town gathered together on this day, and when the clock in the square settled on the twelve, the dazzling Christmas tree in the center would light up the night, officially announcing the arrival of December first.

This was a tradition they had been accustomed to since they were kids, and Kagome was hell bent on being there in time for the lighting of the tree every year. Every. Single. Year. Inuyasha wasn’t always a fan, as it usually fell on a school night, which meant he would have to drag his ass out of bed the next morning with barely a wink of sleep. He would much rather ditch school altogether on those days, but Kagome wouldn’t allow it.

However, he simply had never been able to deny her infectious smile when she rang his doorbell each year. Her cheeks were always rosy from the short walk in the cold between their houses, and her knit hat was so loose fitting it almost always covered her eyes.

Inuyasha caught up to her and they walked in silence for a few moments. His eyes glanced around the quiet street, noting the dark houses and those that only had a flickering candle in the window. By this time tomorrow, most would be glowing with holiday lights, and the stars would cease to be visible for a month. Icicles hung from roof eaves as the shingles glittered with ice-white powder.

Kagome sighed beside him, catching his attention. “I can’t wait,” she chirped, sniffling against the cold. “It’s going to be so pretty.”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha gruffly replied.

She gave him a sideways glance, catching onto his lack of enthusiasm. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Of course I did,” he grumbled. “You wouldn’t leave me alone about it.”

Her lips pulled into a frown. “Fine. Go home then. I’ll just go with Miroku and Sango.”

Inuyasha shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’re already half-way there,” he pointed out. “No sense in turning back now.”

“You are such a scrooge,” she grumbled under her breath before quickening her pace.

Noticing her attitude, Inuyasha groaned and fought to keep up with her. Of all the things to get upset about, Kagome surely picked the littlest of things. Seriously, what did he do this time? He was here, wasn’t he?

They made it to the town square with a minute to spare and found Miroku and Sango in the crowd easily enough. Kagome grinned as she stepped up beside their friends, opposite of Inuyasha. He found a spot next to Miroku and must have had a sour look on his face, for the other boy addressed him.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked, stamping his feet to keep warm against the cold.

Inuyasha shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

Miroku glanced between him and Kagome as his eyes widened with realization. He grinned. “What’d you do this time?”

“I didn’t do nothin’,” Inuyasha spat out defensively.

“Sure,” he agreed, although his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Frowning, Inuyasha hunched his shoulders to fight off the chill, deciding to stay silent. Around them, the other townsfolk chanted as they began counting down from ten. Amber eyes glanced over to see Kagome with her mitten-clad hands clenched into fists with excitement, her voice loud and clear through the night.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Simultaneously, bright lights lit up the entire square. The seventy-foot tall Christmas tree towered over them, sparkling with thousands of multi-colored bulbs. The tinsel glittered brightly and red ribbons danced upon the branches, rustled gently with the cold breeze. Ornaments of red, green, and silver caught the lights, sending an array of colors upon the snow. At the very top, a large, twelve-pointed star glowed, glistening with its flash-silver luster.

Inuyasha stole a look at Kagome and his breath halted in his throat. She smiled brightly, her eyes shining from the lights of the tree, mesmerized as she gazed upward at the beauty of it all. Puffs of air escaped her lips as she clasped her hands over her chest.

Feeling his gaze, she turned toward him and smiled, pushing passed their friends to come to his side. “Isn’t it beautiful, Inuyasha?” she questioned, peering up at him.

It seemed all annoyance from earlier had already been forgotten. He opened his mouth to reply, but his words stuck in his throat. She blinked as she waited, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like the wings of a butterfly. Her brown eyes were like a piping hot mug of hot chocolate after a day of playing in the snow. They were warm and comforting, and as bright as the night sky.

“Uh, yeah,” he finally responded lamely.

Kagome took no notice, though, and instead looped her arm through his. She sighed deeply, once more admiring the scene in front of them. He felt his heart race in his chest as her warmth sank through his jacket into his very bones.

Quiet as a breath, it began to snow.

[uesugi-miu]

For anyone who find this at first time.

Please look at my translation's note in Kageie MS #1

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:: Kageie MS #15 ::

--

Yoshichi : 「The street here is so lively, isn't it.」

Town folk : 「Oh, are you travellers?」

Yoshichi : 「Yeah, It's my first time here. As expected from the castle town of Oda Nobunaga, even if it has just been built.」

Town folk : 「Since Nobunaga-sama has put everything in its place, this area continue regaining its liveliness.」

Yoshichi : 「Nobunaga succeeded in expanding his power continuously. A day that japan will be unified as one is coming closer and closer, I guess.」

Town folk : 「Right, I suppose so. Oh well, isn't this time he eying on Uesugi at Echigo.」

( ! )

Yoshichi-san's drawing all his skillful conversations out, shamelessly tilting his head in puzzlement.

Yoshichi : 「...Aww. I felt like hearing that rumor somewhere...I wonder if it's really true.」

Town folk : 「Let me tell you, It's not just a rumor. There's an official notification, rounding up people to the castle at Mount Azuchi already. My husband also was called for. There...There...You see? That Gigantic mountain castle......」

Yoshichi : 「 ! 」

( There's an official notification out already? )

War is now close at hand.

Time to stop the confrontation of Kageie-san and Uesugi is almost running out.

Fluttering, I repeat those words again and again in my mind.

Miu : 「And when did your husband go to Azuchi castle?」

Town folk : 「It was just this morning.」

Yoshichi : 「...tsu...We may still have time!」

We thanks the woman and hurriedly head towards the risen Azuchi castle in the distance.

.

.

Dashing through unknown streets. We run and run and run...frantically rushing up the mountain path... After quite a struggle, we've finally reached the castle gate.

Yoshichi-san places both hands on his knees, catching up his breath then looking upward to the majestic Azuchi castle which was boasted about.

Yoshichi : 「Hmm...The castle itself really gives forth its power to the surroundings......」

The fortress was made of stone walls. The eaves and roof tiles were decorated by gold leafs. Lower wall of the castle tower is also gorgeous, its surface was coated by black lacquer.

Just thinking that Uesugi army will have to confront with this Oda, terror of the battle has pierced through my body painfully.

Maid : 「Oh?」

An old woman carried a basket on her back, climbing up the mountain path.

Maid : 「What business you have there at this place hmm? If it's about Nobunaga-sama......」

Yoshichi : 「Well! We've come running because of the war official notification!」

Yoshichi-san comes up with an instant lie to cover our true identities.

Maid : 「Oh I see! but it's a little late now. They have just departed for the front not long ago.」

Yoshichi : 「Eh...?」

( ......We can't make it in time...... )

Maid : 「What's the problem? Looking dejected, Wanna join the battle that much?」

Yoshichi : 「I heard that a brave guy name Kakizaki has changed side to be here...I really wish to fight alongside him.」

Maid : 「Kakizaki......Aaahh! Kakizaki...that guy, is it.」

Miu : 「You know him!?」

Maid : 「Ahh. Yeah...Sometimes ago he ran from somewhere or something like that......」

Old woman folded her arms, recalling her memory.

Maid : 「Ah...Talking about Kakizaki-sama, there's something just now...Recently, he cut down shinobi who attacked Nobunaga-sama in the blink of an eye.」

Miu : 「Eh...?」

Yoshichi : 「...I knew it. Not bit different from the rumor I heard, he's such a powerful warrior.」

( Kageie-san...his betrayal...can't be true, right? )

Worriedly, I exchange look with Yoshichi-san.

However, what the old woman said next has taken all my breath away.

Maid : 「But you know, that guy values so much a cute temari pattern charm.」

( Temari pattern charm...... )

Once again, old woman pleasantly narrows her eyes, try squeezing out more of her memory. She's giggling before continue chatting.

Maid : 「The cord of that charm has been cut and he's completely downhearted just like a little baby...I suppose just how powerful warrior he is, he's still a human's child anyway, isn't he.」

I still can't believe my ears.

( Why...? and that charm is...... )

Miu : 「That charm...isn't it an old one with pale brown color? Is it really a temari pattern charm?」

Maid : 「Exactly it is. I am the one who fixed its cord so I remember it really really well.」

My thought was now entangled. Speechless...I am.

Miu : 「Thank you very much.....」

I managed to wring out thanking word then slowly lowing down my head. The moment I realized, I've run the way I came without ever looking back......

Yoshichi : 「W...Wait! Yahiko! What on earth has happened!?」

Yoshichi-san chases after me desperately.

( It was that...that...Kageie-san...... )

I recall that cold blunt attitude and my heart was torn apart.

I don't want anyone to see my tears but how many times I wipe it away, tears come flooding, soaking my cheeks wet.

『Miu : 「B...By the way! Where's the charm that I sewed on your shabby kimono?」

Kageie : 「......I lost it.」 』

( Actually...he has it with him all this time... )

His word and his attitude...What's the meaning of all that......

( I really don't understand...you have to tell me. )

( ......When I meet you, Kageie-san, I wanna hear your explanation...... )

All I can do is standing right there, hugging my own trembling body.

When I already calm myself down, I raise up my face with all my conviction.

Yoshichi : 「Yahiko...What has......」

Miu : 「Kageie-san didn't betray us. There's never such thing.」

Yoshichi : 「Eh?」

Miu : 「I'm sure, he planned to do something and will definitely return to where we are.」

( If it isn't so...he must have thrown away my charm already...right? )

Yoshichi : 「......Right.」

Yoshichi-san nods and smiles at me, although his expression looks more like he's going to burst into tears.

From horseback...there's a person who overlooks two people's conversation.

Nobunaga : 「......」

After thinking for a while, he issues an order to Mitsuhide who's following behind.

Nobunaga : 「Run a fast-horse to Tedori river.」

Mitsuhide : 「Yes, milord.」

Clouds of dust rising while he's turning his horse, galloping it back to Azuchi castle.

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Uesugi army's marching, advancing to the west. They've stopped near Temari river in order to attack Oda.

Kanetsugu : 「...Looks like they're here.」

Kenshin : 「Seem it is so...」

Kenshin squints his eyes leisurely, watching the enemy.

What comes emerge from the hot heat at the opposite side of the shore is the army of thousands men...

.

.

Across the river, Oda's camp.

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Katsuie : 「......」

As highest General, Katsuie recognized Uesugi army at the opposite bank, getting ready for a stern battle.

Kageie's profile who's held back at the rear side grows cold. His emotion can't be read.

Kageie : 「......」

Retainers gave Kageie a look then approach Katsuie.

Retainer 1 : 「Oyaji-dono, can we say something?」

Katsuie : 「What is it?」

Retainer 1 : 「How about we have Kakizaki-dono heading across the river alone then observe what'll happen?」

Katsuie : 「And your aim is?」

Retainer 1 : 「Our enemy must be shaken knowing that he, who betrayed and escaped from them is with us, so as things are, their battle formation will be thrown into disorder.」

Retainer 2 : 「And we'll know how far we can trust Kakizaki-dono too......」

Retainer 1 : 「If there's any suspicious movement, we can aim an arrow at his back.」

Katsuie : 「Tsu...That is...you damn say using decoy!?」

Retainer 2 : 「Oyaji-dono! We're so sorry but in the end we still can't put our faith into that guy. At least, give us a way to believe......」

Kageie : 「It doesn't matter to me. I'll become decoy.」

Observing Kageie, who has just declared his decision, again sharp voice was raised.

Hideyoshi : 「You all'd better stop that idea.」

Retainer 1 : 「Why we have to...!」

Hideyoshi : 「I may not be able to find the right word to convince you but...he has too less hesitation. Despite the fact that it's very probable that he, as a former chief retainer who betrayed to the enemy's side, will be cut down as soon as he arrived at his former base. So I'd say, what on earth is his purpose?」

Kageie : 「......」

Katsuie : 「What you said is surely reasonable but Kakizaki killed the assassin and that's why Oyakata-sama ordered us to take him along to the battle. I think Oyakata-sama must have his own plan. Besides, our enemy this time is Uesugi, if there's a usable weapon at hand but we won't make a good use of it and then we lose, that's a failure. I absolutely can't go back and face Oyakata-sama who awaits at Mount Azuchi.」

That moment, Hideyoshi recognized one upright gaze from Kageie.

Kageie : 「......Can I talk to you about the reason why I am here, Hideyoshi-san?」

Hideyoshi : 「......Umm.」

.

.

Kagetsugu : 「Enemy huh?」

Long moment when time stood still has now come to an end...

From the opposite side of the shore, appears only one shadow of a horse. Uesugi army shoot through their tensions.

The second when that face basking in the darken sun was exposed, everybody's roaring in unison.

Kanetsugu : 「Kageie......!?」

Kenshin : 「......」

Riding his horse against the gentle stream of the river is a guy who once escaped from Kasugayama, Kageie.

[bucksomecontent-blog]

That’s How I Wanna Go 3/?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Summary: In a world of soulmates and marks on skin, every love story is epic and magical and just perfect. Supposedly. Your story ends up being more complicated than you were promised… So you decide to take things into your own hands. Cue car chases in Europe, run-ins with Shady Government Agencies™, oodles of superheroes who are honestly more trouble than they’re worth, a healthy dose of intrigue, an unhealthy dose of alcohol, and maybe some (okay, really a lot of) bad decisions. All with your trusty pack of sharpies and the mysterious man you write to on your skin.

Series Warnings: Some violence, strong language, alcohol, romance, but nothing too explicit.

Chapter warnings: Strong language, questionable writing. If anybody fancies beta-ing lemme know lmao

Word Count: 1169 - shorter chapters=more frequent updates ;-)

Notes: When I tag this as slow burn, I really mean it! Buckle up folks.

One | Two | Three | Four(coming soon)

The last time he’d heard from her was 4 days ago. Heard? Seen? Read? Whatever. He couldn’t bring himself to send another message, it’d feel like harassing her after the “pretty clear fuck off”. So, the logical progression of his feelings was to take it out on this lead. He might be going a little hard on the guy, but that was his business. He’d almost finished grilling him, and was about to investigate the house when they were interrupted by a sharp ‘clack clack clack’.

The eaves of the ugly house in front of you weren’t quite big enough to shelter you from the relentless drizzle as you knocked on the door. This was clearly one of those buildings that used to belong to an upper-middle-class family 70 years ago, but like all its sisters lining the street had since been converted into flats and house shares. Perfect for students who went to uni in the city.

You’d visited Peter’s place a few times before, but never alone, and never for long; it had always been a stop off before heading someplace else.

It had also always been with Reema.

You were woken from your pondering when the door opened a few inches, a frightened face peering from behind the chain across the gap.

“Er, hello?”

“Hey, uh, I’m Y/N?” You were a little confused at this guy’s caution. You really didn’t see yourself as the intimidating type. “I’m looking for Peter…”

A flash of panic appeared across his face before his head disappeared behind the door. You heard him say something quietly but urgently in his East London accent, then there was a low answering murmur from somebody else. The door slammed shut and you heard the chain being unlatched aggressively before it was flung open again, this time to a much taller man storming out. His lower face was loosely covered by a dark red scarf, which could have been mistaken for him just keeping warm in this weather, although something told you it was intentional. The hood of his dark jacket conveniently cast a shadow on the rest of his face, but you could feel his eyes assessing you before he pushed past.

As the mysterious figure stalked away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, you looked incredulously at Peter’s roommate standing in the doorway. “What the hell was that about? And where’s Peter?”

“Aw, fuck, you’re not gonna freaten me as well, are you?”

“What? No! What the fuck?! Do you need me to call the police on that guy?” You whipped around to try and get a better look at him in case you needed to report him, but he’d already disappeared. Yay, that was nice and creepy.

“No, just, uh… Fuck.” He scratched the back of his head anxiously before gesturing you to follow him inside. “Sorry, yeah, uh, Y/N does ring a bell. Pete’s girl’s flatmate, right?” You nodded in reply, wiping the rain from your face and you went in. “I dunno how you found out, but he didn’t tell me where he was going, and that fucker took the note.”

“Wait, what? He’s not here?”

The guy (you really should have asked for his name by now, you realised) looked at you weirdly. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

You sat down on the sofa, groaning. “I’m here because Reema’s gone missing, the police are doing fuck all, and I wanted to see if Peter knew anything. Fuck…”

“Shit, man… You know they’ve probably run off together, it was a bit of a forbidden love thing, yeah?”

“No. She wouldn’t have gone without saying some-without telling me, she was-we were like sisters! Her parents think she just ran off to escape their crazy rules, and Peter missing is just going to convince everyone they like, they eloped or something and they’ll stop looking for her! I can’t…. I can’t abandon her, not now, she’s all I’ve got.” It wasn’t until nameless-guy offered you a tissue that you realised you’d started crying. ‘Jesus, Y/N, keep it together,’ your inner voice chastised.

“Fuck, okay,” he began, clearly extremely uncomfortable with the weeping woman on his sofa. “Well, Pete didn’t say anyfing really, just packed a bag, left a note saying he’d be gone for a while and not to worry and stuff.”

“Terrific,” you bit out, determined not to cry anymore. Well, right now, at least. You weren’t a superhero. “Wait a minute, who wasthat guy in here before? Who threatened you?”

He let out a breath through puffed out cheeked before replying. “I’m not sure. He wanted to know where Pete went, if I’d noticed anyfing ‘weird’ about him, what stuff exactly he took wiv him … He was bare scary. He was American too, I assumed he was like a family member?”

“Maybe.” You quietly knew Peter didn’t have any family left, but didn’t really want to keep talking to this guy. You were antsy, needed to go and do…. something. Just, something. Anything. “Well, sorry for barging in and crying on your sofa, thanks for uh, having me, I guess.”

“Wait, uh, did you want my number? You know, in case Pete calls or anyfing.” You blinked at him, hesitating for a moment.

“Well… sure. Thanks, that does make sense…” You pulled out your phone and gave it to him on the New Message screen. He typed in his number and sent himself a message, flashing an easy grin at you as he handed it back. “If I find them, I’ll let you know they’re okay,” you said, heading towards the front door.

“What, you’re gonna look for them?” He almost sounded… worried?

“I’ve got to know she’s okay,” you replied simply, opening the door to the now heavy rain. Bracing yourself, you were halted by a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Here, take Pete’s umbrella. He isn’t using it.”

“Oh… thank you-” You paused, remembering again you still didn’t know his name.

“Tom.”

You smile at him before opening up the red and blue umbrella and stepping into the rain. “Thank you, Tom. I’ll see you around.”

Well, this certainly put a damper on things. Reema having an obsessed friend looking for her, sure it had been foul play, would make a certain amount of noise that they could really do without. Not to mention the fact that Peter’s disappearance was already being followed up by the goddamned Winter Soldier, who was supposed to be dead. It wasn’t the end of the world by any means, they were very good at covering their tracks after all. Still, it wasn’t ideal. “Tom” cracked his knuckles and activated the bug on the umbrella and the tracker he’d slipped under the epaulettes of that girl’s jacket, before remotely hacking her phone. You could never be too careful. If this girl got so much as a sniff of where her friend was, then she’d tell other people, and it would be on “Tom’s” head. Let’s just say his superiors weren’t very forgiving.

One | Two | Three | Four(coming soon)

[notgoingtohappen]

Revenge, Interrupted (Part 5)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4]

Caroline burst out of the network headquarters, elated. She couldn’t believe how well her interview had gone. She had prepared for it painstakingly, reading up on everything she could find on the network, and even going shopping to buy some work outfits.

They’d said they would get back to her by the end of the day, and she practically skipped over to the café across the street where Bonnie was waiting for her.

“Caroline, how was it?”

“It was really good, I think there’s a pretty good chance I got the job!”

Bonnie grinned happily at her before offering her a sip of her iced tea.

“I was looking at the price of the apartment across Stefan and Damon’s, and if we split the price 3 ways, we can totally afford it. It even has three rooms” She said and showed Caroline the laptop.

“Yeah. We should call the landlord today so we can move in as soon as possible.”

“This is great, I can't believe I’m going to be living next to Damon with you and Elena! It’s like a dream.” Bonnie’s excitement was so contagious Caroline felt herself smiling. It was a good day.

“I don’t understand how you’re best friends with him,” Caroline admitted. “He’s so different from you.”

Bonnie nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but Damon is a really good friend once you get to know him. College would have been boring and completely different without him.”

Caroline shrugged. Who was she to judge, when Damon was the reason she got to be around Stefan.

Whatever confusion she felt was probably just the result of the nerves that came from the whole college getting over, moving to a new city, finding a job and place to live thing.  

“So, you and Stefan, huh?”

Caroline was taken aback. “He’s really nice.” She blurted out.

Bonnie smirked, “Yeah. But once I met him I wasn't sure he was your type. I was surprised, he and Damon are complete opposites.”

What was her type? Did she even have one? Matt and Tyler were her childhood friends and Jesse was just this hot guy in her class. Was Stefan like any of them?

Caroline was anxious to change to topic. “So Enzo is coming in three days, right?”

Bonnie nodded. “I can’t wait for you to meet him. He and Damon were already best friends from high school, and the four of us were super tight in college.”

Caroline sipped the iced tea quietly, already mentally planning out the schedule she would hand everyone with for the move to their new place.

“Oh, I totally forgot! Damon and Elena are going out tonight, but I wanted to have a movie night like we used to in high school. What do you think? Damon has the best home theatre system, we used to watch stuff on it all the time back in college.”

Caroline hesitated. She had to organise everything so they could move into the loft as soon as possible, but that could wait. She really missed hanging out with Bonnie.

“Your new boyfriend will probably be there…” Bonnie added.

Caroline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before she realised that was supposed to be an incentive, and she responded with eager nodding, just like someone actually dating him would.

~*~*~

She was being ridiculous.

How sad was it that she was hesitating outside the door of the Salvatore loft? Stefan had made it clear; they were friends. He’s said it with absolute certainty, and that settled it.

She took a deep breath, smoothed down her tank top, tugged at her ponytail, and knocked.

The door swung open and standing before her was a shirtless Stefan Salvatore.

Caroline felt her cheeks turn hot and stared, despite the tiny voice somewhere in the back of her mind yelling at her to chill and look away.

But she couldn’t because…. Wow.

Was this guy seriously a model? Because those abs actually rendered Caroline Forbes speechless.

“Caroline, hi.” Stefan breathed, looking equally mortified.

Caroline forced herself to think.

“Uh, hey, am I early? I could’ve sworn Bonnie told she would be here by 7. For movie night.”

“No, it’s okay. Damon was just leaving, and I’ll stay out of your way, I was reading anyway.” He smiled warmly at her, and she relaxed a bit. “Damon, what time was Bonnie going to come?” he called out.

“8.” came Damon’s reply from somewhere inside the loft.

Caroline made herself keep her eyes on his face and not look anywhere at his bare chest and arms and torso as they stood there a little awkwardly for a few moments before Damon sauntered out and gave a snort when he saw what was going on at the doorway.

“Ah. Stefan distraction machine.” he smirked at Caroline on his way to the kitchen.

Stefan seemed to remember he still had nothing on from the waist up and hurriedly invited Caroline in and ducked into his room.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered, coming out with a T-shirt thrown on.

Caroline had to admit she was a little disappointed. And then she mentally kicked herself for thinking that.

“Looks like we have an hour to kill.”

“What would you like to do?” he asked.

Damon poked his head out of the kitchen. “You’re both acting like thirteen year olds who just admitted you like each other and don’t know where to go from there.”

“Are not.” Caroline retorted and turned to Stefan with a soft smile. (For show, of course.) “We could just hang out?” she asked.

Damon snorted again and mouthed “Netflix and chill”, but Stefan smiled at her and grabbed her hand, and Caroline felt butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Ridiculous. 

Maybe that iced tea had given her food poisoning?

They put on an episode of 'Friends’ while they waited for Bonnie. She vaguely registered that Damon was pottering about, getting ready to leave.

Somehow, getting to lost in their charade, Caroline had ended up with her legs across Stefan’s lap and head resting against his arm as they watched TV, his hand covering hers.

It felt so natural and comfortable that she had stopped being conscious of it after a while, because hey, Damon was still around, but as the door slammed shut they both started as they realised they were alone.

And neither of them moved away.

They sat like that until the episode ended and the menu popped up.

Caroline was now staring into space wondering what on earth was going on with her feelings and his and the two of them, and suddenly Stefan looked down at her and opened his mouth to speak but she blurted out “Where do you think Bonnie is” before he could say a word.

He looked a little confused before mumbling something about traffic.

They still stayed like that, limbs tangled up together, as Caroline grabbed the remote and hit next.

~*~*~

They jumped a little when the door swung open and Bonnie walked in, smiling sunnily at them. “Hey guys!”

They both stood up and Caroline crossed her arms.

“You told me to come at 7, Bonnie.”

“No, I said 8. I said Damon said he’ll leave by 7.”

“Well guess who showed up at 7.”

“Well at least you were her with Stefan, right?” Bonnie wiggled her brows suggestively.

“Yeah, that’s true” She giggled at Stefan in her best imitation of what Elena was like when she was teased about Damon.

“So, I’ll leave you two now.” Stefan said.

“Stefan, it’s your house. Would you be interested in-“ Bonnie whipped the DVD of ‘The Ring’ out of her bag.

“It’s okay, I was reading a really good book.” Stefan said, obviously not wanting to intrude.

“We also have ‘Titanic’ and ‘When Harry Met Sally’.” Caroline offered.

“I’ll show up as soon as I finish it.” Stefan said.

Bonnie nodded and started fiddling with the DVD player.

“Okay, see you.” Caroline smiled at him and he smiled back, wrapping an arm around her waist as he leant down to kiss her cheek.

They were acting, Caroline reminded herself. This was the plan, and it was time they moved further with it.

Bonnie saw them and groaned. “I can’t wait till Enzo is back.”

See? They were being convincing.

[Ch 6]

[nic-and-annie-in-france]

Marseille

Normally, we aren’t able to go to Marseille on a weekend trip because it takes too long to reach by train. However, I got a slightly longer weekend a few weeks ago thanks to France’s bureaucracy, and used it to visit the seaside city.

The last step in finalizing my visa is a medical exam, where I prove that I am not carrying a dangerous disease like tuberculosis into the country. Once I had proof of residence, I sent it off in the mail, and then received a date (again by mail) for a medical exam in Annecy. I had been warned that I needed to do whatever necessary to honor this appointment because they are extremely hard to reschedule. Mine was scheduled for a Thursday afternoon, when I usually have work. Because of the sparse public transportation in my town, I’d have to leave before school started to arrive on time, and I’d get back with fifteen minutes left in the school day. So, I just *had* to miss the whole day. Shucks!

I always have Fridays off, so my “weekend” would begin on Thursday when my appointment was over. So, once I received my date in the mail, I saw the opportunity to take a trip somewhere further away, and decided on Marseille.

Nicolas and I went to my medical exam in Annecy, which consisted of only a chest x-ray, a vision exam, measuring my height and weight, and answering a few questions about my general health.  We were also able to go to one of the museums that had been closed when we took a daytrip to Annecy before, and we browsed their Christmas market. The museum had a temporary exhibit about religious art and artifacts from the Haute Savoie region, which I really enjoyed.  

We left for Marseille in the evening, and arrived around 10 or 11 at night. When we arrived at the station, we noticed right away that it was warmer in Marseille than up in the mountains, and we could smell a hint of the Mediterranean in the air.  Marseille has a reputation of being a little rough around the edges (while also being culturally rich), so I was worried about being out at night, but our walk to our hotel was quick and nothing about it seemed particularly threatening.

When we arrived at our hotel, we received our room key without paying anything (?), and then headed up the steep staircase to the top floor. We had a tiny little room under the eaves with a window facing the street below.  It was nothing special, but I enjoy the “attic” rooms a little extra because of my French education. In one of my classes, we learned that in apartment buildings in the 1800s, rich people lived on the ground floor, and poor people (including lots of poets and artists who ended up famous later) lived under the eaves.  I imagined someone like Ernest Hemingway or Charles Baudelaire having this sort of hotel room.

In the morning, we were stopped by the desk clerk on the way out, and we had to give him our keys back until we came back again in the evening.  It was then that we paid for our weekend too. This was fine but bizarre, and felt a little bit like living in a dorm with an RA.

We found a café for our breakfast, and they served us croissants with the tiniest coffees. They literally served it in paper dentist cups! We had been able to avoid tiny coffees up until then in France, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.

After breakfast, we strolled around the district of Marseille called “Le Panier” (or “The Basket”). It had lots of narrow streets, cool architecture and graffiti, and stoops adorned with potted plants. I enjoyed the way the morning sunlight hit the soft yellow façades—it doesn’t quite look like that where we live.

We went to a museum at midmorning, and didn’t leave until around 1pm. We were starving and very ready for lunch, but I had planned for us to visit a fort and a cathedral before we ate. We hurried through the stops and then made our way to a noodle restaurant. In our enthusiasm about the warmer weather, we had foolishly gone without coats, so the warm meal did us good.

We used the rest of our sunlight that day to venture outside the city to the Parc National des Calanques. This was the only time that we planned to use public transportation here, so I was apprehensive about figuring out where to buy tickets, how to buy tickets, and where to get on and get off. But everything went as smoothly as possible and we made it to the park without a hitch. We took a short out-and-back trail to one of the calanques (pronounced kah-LONK), a steep valley that leads out into the Mediterranean. The hike was absolutely lovely. We saw white limestone cliffs, the navy blue sea, and plants the exact color of olive green you imagine when you think of a Mediterranean climate. And to top  it all off, the late afternoon sunlight turned everything gold.  When we reached the coast, we also got our first taste of the mistral, a strong, cold wind blowing inland from the sea. We loved the views at the coast but didn’t stay long because it was just too cold!

We took the bus back into the city and went to get our coats before heading back out for dinner.  We got pizza at a quiet restaurant in the Old Port quarter of the city.  The pizza was oddly like a salad, with rocket greens and balsamic vinaigrette on it. It wasn’t what we had in mind, but it was tasty nonetheless.

Our first stop on Saturday morning was a basilica on top of a big hill. It was a steep climb, but we got lots of nice views of the city and the sea on our way up.  Inside the basilica, we spent some time admiring the altar, the stained glass, and the architecture. Most of the religious art was boat-themed—the paintings in the alcoves depicted some of the scenes from the bible involving water and boats, and there were even small model ships suspended from the ceiling.

Most of the rest of the day was to be spent touring the islands just off the coast of Marseille. We went to the grocery store to buy picnic supplies for the island. On our way there, we saw that one of the main roads had been blocked off by the police because of the gilets jaunes protestors. We bought our lunch, then looked for the ticket office for the ferry that would take us to the islands. We had a little trouble finding it, and ended up talking to a very nice man who took me at my word when I said I only spoke “un peu de français.”  He went to get his French/English dictionary and did his darndest to explain that we needed to go to the opposite side of the port.  He apparently met lots of people like us, because he had a hand-drawn map of the area ready to show us with labels in English. I really could have done fine with the conversation in French, but he was so enthusiastic about using his dictionary that I let him continue in English. Thanks to his help, we found the right spot, but ended up having to wait a while for the ferry. We went ahead and ate our lunch in a park and soaked up the sunshine (can you tell I’ve been missing the sun in the mountains???). 

The ferryboat took us first to a small island that is home to the Château d’If, the prison featured in The Count of Monte Cristo. The visit would have been a lot more interesting if either of us had read the book before, but it was still a fun visit. We learned more about the prison as it was used throughout history and about Monte Cristo’s author.  We learned that some of the architectural features of the prison had been altered after the book became popular so that the prison looked more like it was described in the book. A case of life imitating art rather than the other way around.

The second island we went to was bigger and had more room to explore. We spent about an hour and a half walking to one end of the island and back, discovering a rocky inlet, a small beach, and an abandoned hospital along the way.  We didn’t see very many people while we were there; it was nice to get away from the crowds a while.  It was hard to believe that we could be walking along a sunny beach less than two weeks away from Christmas.  In my enthusiasm, I got my leather boots soaked by getting a little bit too close to the waves on the beach.

When we were back on the mainland, we headed towards our final stop for the day, a museum about the history of Marseille. We were diverted a couple times by the riot police.  It didn’t look very likely that the museum would be open. Sure enough, the museum was closed, as were the vast majority of shops and restaurants in the area. Even the Starbucks was closed! This left two empty hours in our day before it was socially acceptable to eat dinner.  We decided to find an open grocery store and buy some things we could eat for dinner without a refrigerator or microwave, and then headed back to our hotel. 

I knew our hotel was not too far from the main road where the protests were happening, so I was worried that it would be difficult to get inside. To make matters worse, Nicolas’ knee was sore from all the walking, so he couldn’t really be too quick on his feet if he needed to be. As we got closer to the turn onto our road, we saw maybe a dozen people running the opposite direction that we needed to go. After we confirmed that there was really no other way to get to the hotel, we plucked up our courage and made a beeline for the hotel door. As it turned out, there weren’t as many people on the street as I expected, but there was a haze all around—tear gas. We covered our faces with our scarves and kept going. In the short time it took us to get to our door, my throat had gotten a little itchy, and Nicolas’ eyes were tingling. but those effects wore off within five minutes. I was relieved that nothing worse happened, and relieved that we wouldn’t need to leave any more in the night.

On Sunday morning, we gave the history museum a second shot, and this time it was open. It was a little disappointing, though. We had our first encounter with stereotypical French rudeness: at the audio guide counter, I said (in French) to the employee, “Hello ma’am, which ones are in English?” but she didn’t acknowledge my existence whatsoever.  We just picked up two headsets, but had to spend several minutes in the first room trying to figure out how they worked, because we had no help from the lady at the counter.  It’s probably not fair of me to blame it on “French rudeness” though, given that it took us three whole months to run into a rude person. Just one ordinary person just having a bad day, I guess.

We spent about an hour looking at Greek, Roman, and Gallic artifacts before it was time to head home. When we made it back to our apartment, I was tired and apprehensive about everything I had to accomplish in the next week. I had to jump into my next week at school, and on the weekend we were due to leave on our two-week trip. All in all, though, it was nice to get some beachy sunshine before really diving into the Christmas season.

[adventuresinfarming]

A Story A Day Series ~ Chapter 1

QUICK NOTE: I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a long time.  Something of a “day by day” take on a new Stardew Valley journey.  I’ll be playing at the character Avian on Plums Farm (Four Corners style farm).  Don’t have a lot of plans for how the story will unfold (a few little headcanons I want to add in though) so we’ll see how this goes!  ----------------------------------------- A Story a Day Series ~ Spring 1, Year 1 Word Count: 3,358 Summary: Avian is starting her new journey on Plums Farm after opening the letter from her late Grandfather.  She explores the town and introduces herself to some of the townsfolk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Monday) Spring 1, Year 1 Waking up Spring 1, Avian was excited to get to work building her new life.  She never thought she’d ever be in this position and the old farm would actually be handed down to her.  In fact, her Grandfather didn’t talk to the family about it very much until the end. He was quite adamant about you, specifically, to visit it during the last few years of his life though...but you had gotten this great new job at the prestigious JojaMart Headquarters and that had taken the forefront.  You never got around to visiting him there.  Aside from that, the family never really knew much about his “secret” life in the valley.   They knew he had purchased the property long ago, before meeting Grandmother and moved with her to Zuzu City to raise her father and his siblings but hadn’t built his cottage and lived on it until after she had passed on.  Your father had visited him there a handful of times but the rest of the family was always too busy.  

She was also anxious but nervous to meet the rest of her neighbors, too.  What would they think of her? How close to your Grandfather were they? Mayor Lewis had said the other villagers were just as anxious to meet her though, that made her feel a little more at ease.

Since yesterday was such an exhausting day, she didn’t even take the time to check out the interior of the farmhouse her Grandfather had lived in.  She got out of bed, opened the blinds to let in more light and really took a look around.  

It was a smaller room than she had expected with very few amenities:  the full-size bed she slept on, a small table and chair set, a couple of houseplants (that Lewis or Robin had probably brought in to help clear the stale air), a beautiful fireplace that had definitely been repaired and a small TV set – the real old kind that had dials to change the channel/volume and no remote. Not to mention the addition of a smaller room off the back corner just big enough to hold a shower stall, toilet and sink – which she was extremely grateful for.  Definitely better than an outhouse and bathing in the lake! She thought.  Curious as to what channels were even available way out in the country, she turned one of the dials. “Welcome to KOZU 5…your number one source for weather, news and entertainment.  And now, the weather forecast for tomorrow…It’s going to be clear and sunny all day.” Huh, well that was good to know. Hopefully the weatherman was accurate out here as they typically got the weather wrong in Zuzu City.  Turning the dial again… “Hoo.. I see a glimmer within my scrying orb… A shard of knowledge from the future! The spirits are in good humor today.  I think you’ll have a little extra luck.” Spirits?  Ok…not sure how much she believed in that stuff, but she was glad they were happy today she surmised.  She turned the dial once again… “Welcome to “Livin’ Off the Land”.  We’re back again with another tip for y’all.  Now listen up - This one’s for all you greenhorns out there: chop wood and search for wild forage to earn some cash while waiting on your first harvest!” That was definitely the kind of information she was looking for, even being called a “Greenhorn”.  Hopefully this show would be on more often, she needed all the tips she could get! She’d have to find a pen and notebook to keep by the TV so she could jot down this info for later. She tried turning the dial again but she only got the black and white static, oh well, at least she got some useful channels. She was about to finally head outside when she saw a little wrapped present sitting besides the flowers on the table.  Inspecting it, she found 15 Parsnip seeds, a small rucksack and a little note: “Here’s a little something to get you started.” -Mayor Lewis That was really sweet of him.  Now all she needed to find were some tools to help her clear at least a portion of the mess she saw last night – she hoped she didn’t have to find somewhere to buy them as she didn’t have a lot of money left over from the move.

She stepped out of the house and looked around the never-ending expanse that was her new home – Plums Farm.  Mayor Lewis had asked if she wanted to change it but she wanted to keep her Grandfather’s legacy and she knew he loved plums – she’d definitely have to plant some one day. She tried to imagine what it had looked like when Grandfather had lived there.  Was he prosperous with a whole field of crops and livestock?  Looking out to what had become of the farm, she felt regret at never visiting when she could have.  She sighed, gazing at all the weeds, long grass, sticks, stones and full grown trees that now littered the property.  She was determined to make it up to him by restoring it to its former glory…and it definitely wouldn’t be easy – she’d have her work cut out for her for sure.  But aside from that, the fresh breeze blowing faintly by her and the songs of the birds...it had been a very long time since she’d heard those sounds that weren’t drowned out by traffic and city life. She decided to take a quick walk around the house, just because she was curious how it looked.  She started around the left side, passing the shipping bin Mayor Lewis had mentioned and continued around towards the back.

Robin really did a great job restoring the siding as best she could along with the bits of roof and eaves – at least covering the spots that were previously exposed to the elements. Fresh lumber nailed securely to the older pieces of wood that were clearly worn – but not yet in need of replacing, stood out like a sore thumb.  It wasn’t the prettiest but she really didn’t have any room to complain. What did she expect from a cottage that had sat there for at least 10 years then fixed for free from the local carpenter?  Still, she was grateful for the work Robin and Mayor Lewis had put in making the place a bit more habitable. As she came around from the back, she saw the dilapidated outhouse and was instantly grateful again for Robin installing the bathroom.  Then she saw a wooden chest tucked beside the right side of the house that still looked pretty intact.  Opening the lid, it was all of the tools she was hoping to find!  An axe, a hoe, watering can, pickaxe, a scythe and an old binder with a few pages sat at the bottom.  She grabbed the binder to flip through it and found a handful of blueprints on how to craft items that would definitely be useful as she built up the farm.

She placed the binder on the patio to bring inside (to review later and maybe the townspeople had other blueprints she could have to make this new life easier).  Then she grabbed the well-used tools and set to work clearing a small patch of land to till and plant the little seedlings. Hours had passed by before she was satisfied with the work she’d done and was absolutely exhausted.  She put the tools she’d used and materials she’d gathered back into the wooden chest by the house before going in to clean herself up as much as she could as she knew she looked a mess.  First impressions were a big deal no matter where you lived and she wanted to make a good impression with her new neighbors and she was glad she packed some regular clothes.

Walking back towards the way Robin had lead her the other day, she passed by the bus stop and stopped for a moment to watch a startled squirrel run up a tree with an acorn in its mouth.  It was so refreshing to see wildlife again.  She noticed a few wildflowers and remembered what the guy on the TV had said – pick up wild forage for cash!  She had found a good handful of Daffodils and a couple Dandelions – which she had also remembered from a survival guide she read before that they were good for quick energy – and stuffed them in her rucksack before continuing on her way towards the town plaza – per the directional sign.

As the dirt path turned into cobblestones, she felt her nerves begin to bubble up a little…Was she ready to introducer herself to everyone?  Were they even going to like her? What would they think of her – an imposter?  A city slicker pretending to be a farmer?  She tried to swallow the nerves as she got closer to some buildings.  The town did look nice though, not as run down as she had expected.  The first one was large building but split into two businesses – a Clinic on the left and the General Grocer on the right called Pierre’s.  Between the two was a large wooden Bulletin Board that had a calendar of seasonal birthdays and events – did people give birthday gifts in this town? Along with a “Help Wanted” board but nothing was needed today – although there was a clever little advertisement that said Pierre’s had the high quality seeds so she decided to go in.

She opened the door and a bell rang out, signaling her entrance.  It was a spacious room; all sorts of different products lined the walls on shelves and in bins on the sales floor. Two women were already in there:  a purple-haired girl who looked a few years younger than her, was stocking shelves near the counter who gave her a sidelong glance before going back to her work.  A middle-aged woman with a lot of hair thrown into a braid that barely contained all of it hung around her shoulder, but she waved to her with a smile before going back to browsing the shelves. “Welcome to Pierre’s!” A middle aged man with sandy brown hair and glasses called to her from behind the counter at the back, getting her attention.  “Ah, you must be the new farmer – Avian, right?  I’m Pierre, owner of this fine establishment.  You won’t find better products anywhere else, and I’ll even buy produce from you at a good price! Its been a while since we’ve had a local agriculture to help bring new life to the economy.” he finished before turning his attention back to the purple-haired girl.  He seemed friendly enough. She smiled nervously and muttered a ‘thanks’. She grabbed a shopping basket from the stand that sat next to the entrance and started browsing the shelves for groceries and things that may be of use – although she didn’t have a lot and wanted to be sure to get more seeds to plant.  Avian rounded the corner of one of the aisles and was met with the older woman.

“Ah, Mayor Lewis told me you just arrived.  Welcome to Pelican Town, I’m Marnie!”  Her smile was warm and her voice was very neighborly.  “If you’re looking to have livestock on your farm, let me know.  I sell both livestock and animal care products at my ranch just south of your farm – swing by anytime!” “Hi Marnie, I’m Avian – once I get more settled in – and have a place to put them, I’ll definitely do that!” They both continued on their shopping.  She had kind eyes, Avian thought to herself.  She definitely looks like someone who’d care for animals.  She’d love to have some one day so she’d definitely stop by her place to learn how to get started.

Avian continued to browse the store, picking a handful of useful items to have at home before she came up to the counter and tried to introduce herself to the purple-haired girl. Her body language was not friendly and turned to her with attitude in her voice. “Oh, that’s right… I heard someone new was moving onto that old farm.  It’s kind of a shame, really.  I always enjoyed exploring those overgrown fields by myself.” She said, dismissing Avian’s greeting and rolling her eyes.

“Abigail! Be nice to our new customer.” Pierre had scolded and shook his finger at her.  Turning to you, he apologized. “Please forgive her, she’s still in the rebellious teenage phase even though she’s an adult.” He frowned at Abigail again. “Ugh, whatever.  I’ve finished putting these on the shelves, DAD.” she stated with an attitude before storming off towards the back door at the opposite side of the counter and leaving the empty boxes there on the floor.

“Again, I apologize for my daughter’s rude behavior.” he shook his head in annoyance as he watched her go through the door but all traces of that had disappeared when he returned his gaze to Avian with a smile you’d see from a used car salesman. “Anyway as a new farmer, I’m sure you’re interested in browsing our splendid Spring seed collection?” he asked as he was already bringing out a tray of quite a few different seedling packets.

He went through each one, describing what it was and how long they took to grow.  She really didn’t have much money on her but as they say: ‘Takes money to make money’.  Avian picked out a few Potato and Cauliflower packets along with a couple Bean starter seedlings and also placed the other items she picked out on the corner to be rung up.  Unfortunately, this purchase had nearly drained her of all her money.  As she headed back out the door, Pierre called after her.  “Thank you for shopping at Pierre’s where the prices are always better!  Come back again!”

Whew, well that wasn’t too bad. Everyone seemed nice so far, aside from Abigail but hopefully she would warm up to her, it’d be nice to have a friend around her age.  Avian stood outside of Pierre’s contemplating her next move – either go plant these new seedlings or wander around a bit more to meet more people.  As she stood there debating, the decision was made for her.  A spiky blonde-haired guy who also looked about her age, wearing a jean jacket with various band patches on it and carried a skateboard, walking by a few houses and a dog pen not too far away from her.  Swallowing her nerves she went to introduce herself.

“H-hi, I’m Avian.  The new farmer,” she started to say and got his attention.

“Oh hey!  Yeah I heard about you.  I’m Sam.  Good to meet you!  Love to stay and chat but I’m actually late to work though,” he said and hurried on his way.  “Catch ya later!”

She nodded and wondered where he worked where he started after Noon.  She stood there for a moment watching him walk away before realizing there was another guy watching her, tossing a gridball up into the air next to a house.  He had on a letterman jacket, and definitely looked like the typical jock.  Once he saw that she noticed him, he waved her over.

“Hey, you’re the new girl, huh?  I think we’re going to get along great.  I’m Alex.” He had this dazzling smile as he tucked the ball under his arm and offered his hand in a shake. “Yeah, I’m Avian!  Its nice to meet you.” she shook his hand as she tried not to stumble over her words, why was she nervous all of a sudden? She was never popular in school and none of the popular kids ever noticed her, so maybe that was it.  They both stood there in silence as he tossed the gridball up in the air again before catching it easily.  She figured he would have said something else since he called her over.  

“You like gridball, huh?” she asked, gesturing to the ball.   “Oh yeah, I brought my High School team to Champions a couple years ago.” He boasted, starting to toss the ball in the air again.  “Just waiting to be called up to the big leagues, now!” “That’s cool.  I used to like watching the national games sometimes.”

“Maybe we could play catch sometime then.” and gave her that dazzling smile again Her nerves caught up to her as she muttered, ”Yeah, maybe!  I-uh, I gotta go plant crops now.  See you later,” and held up her bags of seeds. “Heh, sure.  See you around!” he smiled again as she walked around the house and went north, spying a stone bridge overlooking the river.  Seemed like a good spot to sit and think for a moment so she went to go stand on it to get her brain back together.  It wasn’t often she was nervous around guys but she had also never seen a smile that took her breath away like that.  Thinking on it, the spikey-haired guy wasn’t too bad looking either.  Abigail also had a beauty to her…what kind of town did she move to?? Then she felt stupid for not trying to continue on the conversation with Alex – as Sam and Abigail were busy.  She wasn’t there very long, staring into the waters as fish swam by and leaves moseyed on with the help of the lazy current, when another older woman approached the bridge.

“Hey kid, you must be the new one.  The name’s Pam.”  She had a gruff voice but still seemed pretty nice and held out her hand to shake, although her grip was a bit rough.  “Don’t be a jerk and we’ll get along just fine.”  She smiled and continued on her way towards a building on the other side of the stream.  It was a rather large building, definitely new-er than a lot of the buildings she had seen so far, so she went to go look at it.

As she got closer, it dawned on her how familiar the color scheme was and realized –  HOLY SHIT, this was a JojaMart! H-how...WHY was a JojaMart here?  Mayor Lewis didn’t mention anything about it.  In fact, did he even know leaving that horrible place is part of the reasons she’s here?  She walked away from the building, recalling the horrible memories and decided to head back home.  It was getting later in the day and definitely didn’t want to get stuck trying to find her way back in the dark – plus she did want to get these seeds planted before she went to bed, she was already exhausted from her earlier chores and introducing herself.

As she headed back towards the dirt path leading towards her farm, she noticed another man walking around the little fenced in area and figured meeting one more person wouldn’t hurt. “H-hi, I’m Avian,” she started when the man turned around.  He looked a few years older than her wearing a forest green lab coat with glasses and a mustache.   “It’s a pleasure to meet you.  I’m Harvey, the local doctor.” She shook his hand briefly as he went on to say that he does general check-ups for all Pelican Town residents and that she should stop by sometime if she ever feels ill or sick. “It’s rewarding work, being able to give back to the community like this.  I hope you’ll find your own work equally rewarding in time but please also don’t overwork yourself,” he cautioned in a light tone.  “Don’t want you passing out or anything!”

“I’ll definitely be sure to be careful,” she agreed.  It is nice to have a doctor in town.  “It was good to meet you.  I’m going to plant these before it gets too dark,” she said as she held up the bag from Pierre’s.

They bid each other goodbye and she headed back to the farm.  Once she got there, she tilled and planted the seedlings and thought about her day before getting right to bed.  The moon was still rising but she fell asleep immediately.

[sarissophori]

Hither Yonder, Chapter 17

The Undying Lands

They were once men; soldiers, sailors, captains and envoys of the royal throne; tall, proud and splendid, the remnants of Tarmaril’s mighty vanguard, cursed to become in flesh what they were in heart. In consequence, the land they trod upon also suffered, turned into a shadowed waste removed from hallowed light. The curse gave them what they wished, but the weight of it reduced them to a wicked state of being, eating at them, and they hated it, and they hated themselves; their bodies starved and wracked by malice and loathing, a cancer of centuries that promised pain without death, reducing them to things lower than beasts, though some remembered who they once were in a vague sentience.

       Though a terrible punishment, it was not without mercy. If those so cursed merely step into the untainted light, forgiving themselves and letting go of their hate, forgiveness would in turn be given, granting them back a place within the circles of life and death. Only a few have tried. Those who remain hold jealously on to their hate, cursing the light, choosing to stay in the hell of their own making, unready as yet for forgiveness, even of one’s self.

 Never before had Halli seen an environment that looked as if evil itself inhabited it, nature possessed of a dire intent, a thing that would hurt or betray her if it could, and was perhaps yet trying to. Mazes of jutting roots covered the ground, and arms of claw-like branches leered down to scratch her face, or catch her hair; but she ran, for all her desperation, trusting in blind speed and wiliness, her feet smacking against the bare patches of stone.

       The light beyond was fractured by the canopy, ethereal rays slanting down to blend with the vacuous shadows of the deeper woods, where even that light faded and died. Yet it was enough, and using it as her guide, Halli made for the rising slopes further inland, past the crowns of which no shadow dared touch. Whether it was actually hope or a mad desire for it that pressed her, having no other choice except death, Halli ran.

       And they hunted her, these remnants of old Tarmaril, creatures of their own cunning and slyness, calling to each other in their crude, guttural mockery of speech, gleeful of this chance to hurt her, to satisfy their most vulgar instincts, after centuries of numbing sloth. They used what of their war-training was left imprinted on them, scouts going forth and harrying, the main body behind for support, the wings closing in to cut off escape; a cohesion that thrilled them to feel again.

       The ground under Halli’s feet became rougher, more fractured, away from the weathered beach. The roots dug into the cracks and steadily pried them open like gaping wounds, the loose foundations uprooting many of the trees, letting in stronger beams of stale light. On nerve she picked her way through, sacrificing vital speed for surety as her toes felt past many brinks, as her balance nearly threw her, until at last she tottered at the edge of a break and she faltered, skidding down and sliding into a pile of rubble and broken branches.

       She recovered and found herself between the slopes of two meeting hills, the lane crowded with shale, cramped where she fell but gradually widening further on. Hearing the horrid cries in the air above her, Halli followed it, the light now in such strength that it appeared to pulse in radiance, casting a deep blue like a sunset over winter plains, the darkened uplands near featureless in contrast.

       After a turn the hillsides pulled back, opening out to a wide forest-glade that looked like a great hall of nature; trees were its pillars, boughs were its eaves, and mossy vines its shredded tapestries, but it had no roof, and glowed in twilight as if unaffected by the grimness surrounding it. The hall stretched on from where Halli stood, delving through the uplands without detour to the gate of the Undying Lands.

       Halli’s heart swelled to bursting, and tears unbeckoned streamed down her cheeks; she ran as fast as she could go, gasping, her feet calloused, her knees cut and burning, making that long tearing sprint with limbs dulled by ecstasy, a journey realized after so many leagues and storms, reduced to only a furlong.

       A large shape erupted from the trees on her periphery, braving the light, crouched low as a predator about to strike, and with a broad hand it swatted Halli, knocking the breath from her and sending her to the ground. Stars flashed across her eyes, her sword falling from her grasp. It pinned her in place before she could move, and examined its catch with sunken eyes, scarcely recalling the sight of a proper human being; her face, her youth, her slenderness from hard, weary travel. Memories swirled in its mind of another child it once knew, once cherished, who called it by a word, vadthos, though it no longer had meaning.

       Sorrow, then bitterness, and finally hatred sprung from its core, and in rage it roared, deciding it would take Halli away and tear her limb from limb, ridding itself of memories ugly to what it was now, a pain of soul it would do its best to inflict on flesh, for aimless vengeance.

       It prepared to carry her into the dark, and Halli screamed. It seemed to laugh as she struggled weakly in its grip, already relishing her torment. A series of loud barks echoed form the hall, stopping the creature in its tracks. It snarled and shot an angry glance to the intruder, a ragged herding dog with a keen stare narrowed to points of fire, her brandished teeth curved like sickles.

       “Get away from her, you cur! Let her go!”

       Grinning, the creature released Halli, and she fell without tension to the grass.

       “N…Noma…”

       “Back away!” Noma barked. “You will not touch her again!”

       It gawked at her, widening its stance, bearing its claws, ready for her to make good on her boast.

       “I said back away!”

       Noma charged, the heat of her wolf-kin burning so furiously within her, nothing could contain it; the ground trembled under the beat of her paws, and the moment seemed to slow. The creature grimaced its impression of a smile, hiding in its forearm the blade of a pitted sword embedded within its flesh, a cruel weapon now a part of the thing itself, and it calculated for a quick, proper strike.

       With strain Halli reached for her sword, clutching it, and rousing herself she fell in a lunge on the creature’s calf, plunging it deep. The creature roared and swatted Halli across her face, the blade barely missing. At the same time Noma leapt and dug in her claws, throwing them both to the ground in a brawl vicious and primeval in its savagery, Noma barking and baying as her teeth shredded flesh, tore through muscle, and released streams of blood that flecked her nose and tongue; she suffered her own terrible wounds but refused to let up, as Halli watched dazed beside them.

       Yet Halli’s stroke played its part. In pain the creature slipped and collapsed, and Noma, seeing her chance, seized it by the throat. It warbled and thrashed, striking Noma, but she held firm against its flailing limbs, throttling its windpipe, thick blood dripping from her mouth as it wheezed, gasping for futile breath, and finally died in its throes.

       Noma threw up her head and gave such a howl that the trees themselves shuddered, dreadful as it was victorious, and none dared to answer her challenge, not so close to the untainted light. They fled, bemoaning the loss of their chief, retreating for the shadows of the deeper forest.

       Noma then whimpered and wavered, her legs shaking as her battle-fury left her, and she collapsed.

       “Noma!”

       Straining, Halli crawled to where she lay and petted her reassuringly, feeling the clots of blood in her coat, and the slickness of open skin; her lip quivered, and she began to cry.

       “Oh, Noma.”

       “I…I’m sorry, Halli” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be there with you, at the end, after all.”

       “Don’t you say that!” Halli said. “Of course you will, you have to. You promised, remember? Not should the Roof of Night crash down upon us.”

       “I can’t feel my body anymore” Noma said. “I am broken, a burden. You must leave me where I lie. Please, don’t let me hold you back.”

       “No!” Halli said. “No…I won’t leave you like the others. I’ve left too many friends behind already, far too many, but I won’t leave you –not you, Nomatakana, dearest of companions. Not you.”

       “Oh, Halli…”

       Halli hugged Noma and wept openly, crying into her fur, unable to let go nor wanting to, afraid to move on without her here at the end of her quest, their quest. She kissed Noma on her forehead.

       “You wouldn’t leave me behind, if our places were switched.”

       “That’s because I am a fool, dear.”

       “So I be, too.”

 Summoning her strength, Halli hacked off branches from some of the trees of the hall, and yanked down strands of vines. With uncouth skill she fashioned these into a litter, making it so that she could drag an end of it on the ground behind her. She placed Noma carefully into the bed between the arms, petted her with soothing words, and pulled her along as best she could. Every step was strained, every breath labored, and pains shot up her legs that forced her to kneel and jostle the litter. Halli groaned and carried on, pleading her body for one more step, then another, as the light absorbed them. The trees closed in, their boughs touching to form an arch from which light unfiltered spilled forth and overwhelmed all other earthly sensations, twinkling in the leaves like gentle snowfall, glinting and flashing softly. Halli walked into it, through it, and the light took them, and the ground seemed to disappear, as if she were now walking on air. The burden of the litter was gone, and her heart was lifted by a pure, serene calm.

 The light parted as a curtain of mist, to a completely different world. There were brilliant green fields so vast, she saw no end to them. The sky was blue and rich in brightness, especially after so long in the dark, and carried a sweet-scented breeze. The grass also smelled sweet, curling under the press of her feet. Far off ahead of her was a great mountain many unguessable leagues away, taller than any other east of the sea, snow-capped and emerald-clad, wreathed by clouds, a kingly peak never beheld before by mortal eyes.

       There was a shining river before her, little more than ankle deep, perhaps a furlong wide, that ran without ripple or current to break its stillness, reflecting perfectly the sapphire sky.

       “I’ll have to carry you across, Noma” Halli said. “I need to take you out of the litter, okay? Noma?”

       Noma was quiet and still. Halli knelt and petted her, trying to rouse her. Her hand shook and she rasped a low sigh, shutting her eyes against the coming tears. Noma had passed without whimper, lulled by the whispering breeze. After a moment to take in her loss, Halli looked solemnly over the river.

       “I guess you’re there now too, huh?”

       Setting aside her grief one more time, the last time, Halli stepped into the river and began to wade across, recalling the first steps of her journey from Dumbria; Sador and Siri, and the slaves of Thargorod; the Imperial Road and its endless stretches; the Gallenwood and Meadow-home, Amerrotecus, Amerrotaieu and Luxwannen, and Nomatakana dearest of companions; the White Wolves of the Grayrim Mountains; the rangers of Annai Ostirgod and the peoples of Harbortown, Varrion and Ianan, Ianan, if ever she was to marry someone…

       And Yuta, who never had the chance to live and love, or stray too far from the sight of her older sister, for whom all pains and sorrows were endured –who else would be there on the other side, dear and beautiful as Halli remembered, clothed in a white robe that shone with the sun, waiting for her.

       Halli stopped, unsure, suspecting if there wasn’t some last trick or deception at work, yet love and longing took her as she beheld her sister’s face, compelling her to go on with shaking knees, her mind stuttering in disbelief for words.

       “Yu -Yuta, is that you?”

       Yuta nodded and smiled. “It’s me, Halli. I knew you’d come.”

       “Oh, Yuta!”

       Limping, Halli rushed the other shore in such euphoria she could have collapsed utterly and not cared, and indeed, when she was before her, touching her slender shoulders, seeing that all was well with her, Halli cast her arms about her and wailed unashamed, dropping to her knees. Yuta fell with her and held her back, kissing her cheek.

       “It’s you, it’s you, by the gods it’s you.”

       “Aye, dassyin.”

       Dassyin; hearing that word again…

       “I missed you so, so much.”

       “I missed you too, Halli.”

       “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, I’m sorry I failed you.”

       “Failed me?” Yuta said.

       “I’m the older one, I wasn’t supposed to let anything bad happen to you.”

       Halli continued crying, but Yuta had no air of judgement, or look of blame; she brushed her hand over Halli’s cheek and wiped away her tears. Halli turned her face, as if unworthy of such loving pity.

       “You didn’t fail me, you couldn’t. I love you too much.”

       Halli gazed at Yuta. “You always had a soft heart. You haven’t changed at all.”

       “But I have” Yuta said. “I am part of these lands now, touched by their time and wisdom. You have too. You carry many cares now, many sorrows, that you didn’t have before. It has made you beautiful, dear sister.”

       “I would forsake them all, if we could be together again” Halli said.

       “Where are they, the gods? I have braved many tests and lost many friends, and I will claim my wish.”

       Yuta tilted her head. “What wish?”

       “To return you” Halli said. “To bring you back with me to living lands, home; my heart is pure, they can’t deny me this. Where must I go to find them?”

       Yuta seemed confused, then her expression turned grave.

       “There is no wish, and there are no tests. Mortals were never supposed to come here of their own choosing, and those who pass are not allowed to return as who they once were. The order of things won’t accept it; that’s not why life is lived.”

       “But, the legends?”

       “Are only legends. I’m sorry Halli, I can’t return. None who pass this threshold can.”

       “Then, I won’t be allowed back either?”

       “No, I’m sorry.”

       Those words smote her dearly; seeing Ianan again, returning to Meadow-home, having a life with Yuta; it all vanished quietly, leaving a hollow place in her heart after such welling of joy.

       Halli breathed a harsh sigh. “Then, this was for nothing?”

       “Nothing?” Yuta said.  “It isn’t for nothing that we meet again, here, against all chance, where only gods have walked. Your journey is fulfilled; my waiting wasn’t in vain.”

       “This isn’t how it’s supposed to end” Halli said. “I wanted us to go home, and live together in peace. I wanted you to see Meadow-home, and Harbortown. I wanted you to see the sunrise over Hanan again.”

       “I have” Yuta said. “I have gazed through the airs of the mortal world and seen behind the curtain, to the nameless vistas, where the stars ebb and flow, the days and nights are blended into a seamless play, and a thousand suns may rise and fall with a single thought, or not at all. No, there is no going back, for me or for you. Please don’t be sad, Halli. I know it means never having what we had before, but that is not an evil. Death, and what comes after, are not frightful things. Nothing has truly ended. We are a part of this world and will return to it in time, yet for now, this will be home.”

       Yuta kissed Halli’s forehead. “No more despair, dassyin. Those who love you will understand. I did, when I left.”

       Yuta’s voice and touch, with the beauty of the Undying Lands and its healing presence around her, soothed Halli and her sorrow, as surely as if a hand had reached within and carried it away, scattering it to the wind, as it did her mortal aches and pains. She would miss her life and those she would never see again, but the lightness of her heart finally allowed her to accept it, and remember them in fondness rather than grief. A new strength filled her, and she cried no more.

       “I was wrong” Halli said. “You have changed. You speak as one with long years and deep wisdom –not quite like the Yuta I remember.”

       “I may not be every bit the same as I was” Yuta said, a hint of her old childishness flashing in her serene eyes.

       “But I’m still me where it counts.”

       She clasped Halli’s hands in hers and grinned.

       “We don’t have to leave just yet. There are fields for playing, trees for climbing and woods for exploring, everything is wonderful here! We can take as long as we like. You can even rest first if you want; just don’t take too long, or she’ll start to get impatient.”

       “Who will?”

       There was a single sharp bark behind where Yuta was standing. Looking past her, Halli saw a herding dog with pointed ears and bushy tail, standing ever at the ready. Her heart rose, and burst with renewed joy.

       “Noma!”

       “I’m as surprised as you are” Noma said. “So this is your sister? She seems absolutely lovely company. I understand now why you would risk so much to see her again.”

       “Ha!” Halli said. “A trick both sad and happy; I don’t get my wish, but at least I get to have both of you again, before the end.”

       “Oh, enough gloom!” Yuta said. “Let’s go then, to the eternal mountain yonder! I want to see Noma run!”

       Noma barked, swishing her tail.

       “That’s a little far, isn’t it?” Halli said.

       “Not at all. It’s a lot closer than it seems –that’s sort of how things work here. Come, I’ll show you!”

       Yuta turned and ran, her robe billowing behind her, laughing in the wind.

       “This will be so much fun!”

       Noma huffed. “Well, we’ve gone longer distances than this before, haven’t we?”

       “Yes, we have.”

       Halli and Noma gave chase, no longer feeling their hurts, for no pain can last in that place where joy is woven into its very fabric. By the foot of the mountain the sound of their playing can still be heard, their laughter echoing through the hills and valleys, across the streams and fields, even long after their departing, as others coming later have heard on the wind, from the direction of forests evergreen.

[pussymagicuniverse]

Werewolf Heart, a Hallow's Eve #meowlist by Jessie Lynn McMains

This year, for Pussy Magic’s second Hallow’s Eve: SCREAM issue, our music-lover, Jessie, compiled a spooky list of tracks for you to enjoy with some details below about the songs and musicians, why she chose them, and lyrics that she loves. Enjoy, Kittens, and we’ll see you later for the special upcoming issue!

1. Tom Waits — Dirt in the Ground

I could easily make an entire Halloween-season playlist using only Tom Waits songs, and it was difficult to narrow it down to just one. I chose this one for two reasons. One being that it is both spooky and sad, a perfect ode for this holiday which is all about honoring the dead and accepting death as a natural part of the life cycle. The other being my own personal associations with it—at a Halloween party in 2003, while in costume as a fallen angel, I performed an a capella version of this song.

The quill from a buzzard The blood writes the word I want to know am I the sky or a bird? ‘Cause hell is boiling over And heaven is full We’re chained to the world And we all gotta pull 

2. Johnny Cash — The Man Comes Around

This song isn’t so much creepy-sounding as it is lyrically terrifying. If anyone can make me believe in a Biblical-style apocalypse, it’s Johnny Cash. It also gets Halloween bonus points for its use in Dawn of the Dead.

The hairs on your arm will stand up At the terror in each sip and in each sup Will you partake of that last offered cup Or disappear into the potter’s ground? When the man comes around 

3. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds — Red Right Hand 

Nick Cave is another artist who could fill up an entire Halloween playlist all on his own. Be it with the Birthday Party or the Bad Seeds, the man can write a scary tune. This is by no means his scariest song (as far as I’m concerned, that titles belongs to “Song of Joy”*), but it does have a definite foreboding feeling; particularly during the organ solo. Ultimately, I chose this one for the playlist because of its use in the Scream franchise.

(*Fun fact: in “Song of Joy,” Nick references the same passage from Milton’s Paradise Lost that “Red Right Hand” was drawn from.)

You’ll see him in your nightmares You’ll see him in your dreams He’ll appear out of nowhere but He ain’t what he seems You’ll see him in your head On the TV screen Hey buddy, I’m warning You to turn it off 

4. Puerto Muerto — The Hangman’s Song

A sad and beautiful apocalyptic death-song. This is another one I once performed, at a Halloween show in 2009. And, like “The Man Comes Around,” this song is also on the Dawn of the Dead soundtrack.

The days will turn black, you soon will see. Soon we’ll all be swinging from a tree. Pray your neck breaks when the rope is taut. Pray your mother isn’t there to see. 

5. Delta Rae — I Will Never Die

Fleur suggested this song and as soon as I heard it I knew it was going on the playlist. It has a powerful, witchy, incantatory feeling to it, and the imagery in the lyrics is perfectly eerie. And I have a weakness for any song that uses chains as percussion instruments. 

Hickory, oak, pine and weed Bury my heart underneath these trees And when a southern wind comes to raise my soul Spread my spirit like a flock of crows 

6. Nina Simone — I Put A Spell On You

This tune is a must on any Halloween playlist. I adore the original Screamin’ Jay Hawkins version, but I think Nina Simone’s version is the sexiest and witchiest. Her deep, commanding voice and the jazzy sway of the music will put a spell on you for certain.

 I put a spell on you ‘Cause you’re mine You better stop the things you do I ain’t lyin’ No, I ain’t lyin’ 

7. Eartha Kitt — I Want To Be Evil

In this fun little tune, the inimitable Eartha Kitt (aka Catwoman) asks why bad boys get to have all the fun. C’mon, good girls and non-binary babes, cast off the shackles of gender-based behavioral expectations and be evil!

I want to be horrid, I want to drink booze And whatever I’ve got, I’m eager to lose I want to be evil, little evil me Just as mean and evil as I can be! 

8. Jill Tracy — Evil Night Together

Being bad can feel so good. This vampy dark cabaret number is the love song a femme fatale would sing in a film noir. It’s the kind of song you’d use to seduce the person you want as your partner. And by partner, I mean partner-in-crime.

I’ll hold your hand while they drag the river I’ll cuddle you in the undertow I’ll keep my hand on your trigger finger I’ll take you down where the train tracks go Let’s wile away the hours Let’s spend an evil night together 

9. Lana Del Rey - Season of the Witch

This is another seasonal classic. Hole’s cover is my favorite, but it’s not available on Spotify, and this version by Our Lady of Vintage Cool, Lana Del Rey, is really good, too. (Also, it appears on the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark soundtrack.)

When I look out my window, many sights to see. And when I look in my window, so many different people to be. That it’s strange. So strange. 

10. Austra — Spellwork 

Dark and danceable witchy synth-pop. Thanks to Cassidy Scanlon for the suggestion.

You must be the call The evil at night Speaking words of grace While spellwork delights Feel my desire, it burns like a fire 

11. World/Inferno Friendship Society — One for the Witches! 

The World/Inferno Friendship Society is another band that could easily fill up a Halloween playlist all on their own. Hell, their biggest show of the year is their Hallowmas show every October the 31st. I chose this one because it is an anthem of mine (so much so that I have a tattoo relating to it); it is an anthem for all witches and weirdos and misfits. You know? I mean, do ya know? 

“Supposed to be? I never gave it any thought Never gave a damn about what I’m supposed to be But if you’re asking what I am? I’m a fucking walking question mark I am a walking fucking time bomb!” 

12. Hag Face — Witch Stomp

This short instrumental tune sounds something like if Elvira had a garage band, and you combined their music with a tape of spooky sound effects. It’s fuzzed-out grunge, dark and hypnotic, and full of screams and howls.

13. The Distillers — I Am A Revenant

In folklore, a revenant is an animated corpse that is believed to have revived from death to haunt the living. In this loud-fast-rules punk song, Brody Dalle reminds us that even if the bastards kill us, we can return to haunt them for the rest of their days. 

We are the revenants We will rise up from the dead We become the living We’ve come back to reclaim our stolen breath 

14. Against Me! — Dead Rats 

This isn’t specifically a Halloween song (in fact, the only holiday it references is Easter), but sound and image-wise, it’s perfect. It’s a heartbroken rager, a love song for a fucked-up goth girl. It reminds me of so many girls I’ve known and loved; so many girls I’ve been.

Dear succubus, I miss you more than the rest But there’s a little bit less divide each time I look back In the eaves of your attic, I know how to haunt Shallow graves for all dead rats I like the dark clouds the best 

15. The Cramps — Sheena’s in a Goth Gang 

I had to include The Cramps and their brand of horror-surf-punk-psychobilly. In this song, Sheena’s not a punk rocker no more...she’s in a goth gang, now.

Mixed up women Do you have one in your house? She’s in the forbidden Vampire underground In the cult of the cobra Snakes in her hair She looks so macabre With her cobweb stare 

16. The Damned — Nasty

This song is such a rollicking tribute to horror and slasher flicks. Listen to it, then go watch the performance they did on The Young Ones, with Dave Vanian at his vampiric finest. Only pop music can save us now!

The axe is sharp And the blade is keen Creature features spill from the screen Shadows fall and all is gloom You’re not so safe In the safety of your room

17. Siouxsie and the Banshees — Halloween

This would be a poor excuse for a Halloween playlist if I didn’t include a song by the Queen of Goth herself, Siouxsie Sioux. It was a toss-up between this one and “Spellbound,” but I chose this one for the drive of the drums, the angular slash of the guitars, and the surreal and atmospheric lyrics. 

A sweet reminder In the ice-blue nursery Of a childish murder Of hidden luster And she cries “Trick or Treat” “Trick or Treat” The bitter and the sweet 

18. Bauhaus — Bela Lugosi’s Dead

I almost feel like I should apologize for including this song, but listen: this year’s Hallow’s Eve edition of Pussy Magic has a pop culture bent, and I’m currently working on a chapbook inspired by Bela Lugosi (amongst other classic horror actors), so I couldn’t not include it. Not to mention it’s a goth classic with the clattering-bone percussion, the reverb, the mesmeric bass line. Every time I listen to it I feel like I’m in a goth club in the ‘80s, all decked out in black lace and too much makeup, smoking clove cigarettes and dancing.

White on white translucent black capes Back on the rack Bela Lugosi’s dead The bats have left the bell tower The victims have been bled 

19. Oingo Boingo — Dead Man’s Party

Another Halloween classic by my favorite new wave/rock/ska/whatever (seriously, how does one classify Oingo Boingo’s music?) group of weirdos. It’s one of those great songs where the lyrics can be read into really deeply if you so choose, but it’s also just a hell of a lot of fun.

I got my best suit and my tie With a shiny silver dollar on either eye I hear the chauffeur comin’ to my door Says there’s room for maybe just one more 

20. The Gun Club — Death Party 

Poor old Jeffrey Lee. He had a lot of devils, and nowhere can you hear that better than in the yowl of this song. Musically, it’s something akin to Jim Morrison having psychedelic visions in the L.A desert, combined with blues, country, and punk. Lyrically, it’s about being drawn to self-destruction. 

Throw down your heartache, throw down your worldly blues They’ll tear your heart out, lookin at you wail the blues Come to the death party, you ain’t got nothing to lose 

21. Concrete Blonde — Bloodletting (The Vampire Song)

Concrete Blonde always had a dark side, but with the album Bloodletting they went even deeper into goth-rock territory. This, the title track, was inspired by Anne Rice’s novel Interview with the Vampire, and has a sexy swagger perfect for a creature of the night.

There’s a crack in the mirror And a bloodstain on the bed Oh, you were a vampire And baby, I’m the walking dead 

22. Sonic Youth — Halloween 

According to Kim Gordon, the lyrics to this song were inspired by watching Henry Rollins perform with Black Flag, which makes me chuckle. But in any case, this is a strange, creepy, and yeah, kinda sexy tune. There’s something ritualistic about it, like the incantation of a priestess as filtered through the lens of Sonic Youth’s noisy art-punk.

It’s the devil in me Makes me stare at you as you Twist up along you Sing your song and you’re Slipping up to me and you’re So close I just uh Want to touch you

23. Pixies — On Graveyard Hill

This track off the new Pixies album definitely has that off-kilter rock’n’roll Pixies sound I know and love. And the lyrics make it a perfect fit for a Halloween playlist.

In the poisonous forest, Donna lights up her torches Her eyes are flying saucers Her hair is black and gorgeous I see her down at the crossroads She can lead you to madness She’s leading me into darkness, in the witching hour

24. Tempers — What Isn’t There 

As I’ve been writing these descriptions and listening to the playlist again, I’ve realized a lot of the tracks are long—like, between five and ten minutes long. I think that’s fitting for this season and this holiday. Imagine the long songs on this playlist as aural films to get lost inside. This track by Tempers makes for a very dark and moody piece of ‘cinema.’ Thanks to Cassidy Scanlon for the suggestion.

25. Sigils — Samhain

If all metal sounded like this I would listen to more metal. I love the heavy drone of this song, so eerie and mysterious. And the lyrics make me picture teenagers sitting around an autumn bonfire, stoned, telling scary stories.

Everything is gold The wind a sickly sweet The smell of rotting leaves Bathe in ashes from the fire 

26. Dax Riggs — Ghost Movement

Yet another artist whose entire oeuvre, from Acid Bath to deadboy & the Elephantmen to his solo stuff, lends itself well to this season. This one’s a personal favorite when I’ve got those haunted blues. (After you’ve listened to the playlist, go listen to Dax’s cover of the Misfits’s “Skulls,” which he turned into a ballad.)

Kissed a blue girl While it rained broken glass Rode a bolt of white light With Satan on my lap 

27. Queens of the Stone Age — Mosquito Song

With imagery straight out of Hannibal Lecter’s cookbook, this song is a gorgeously scary ode to the cycle of life and death.

Cutting boards, hanging hooks Bloody knives, cooking books Promising you won’t feel a thing at all Swallow and chew, eat you alive All of us food, that hasn’t died 

28. Rasputina — Gingerbread Coffin

I would be remiss as a former creepy little girl who totally held doll funerals and as an overly dramatic goth who totally had a Rasputina phase if I didn’t include this song.

We brought, but not used A collection of knives We’ll remember this moment Through all of our lives She’ll rise

29. Dead Man’s Bones — Werewolf Heart

I’d never heard of Dead Man’s Bones until I was looking for songs for this playlist, but I love this song so much that I went to find more about the band and discovered... Ryan Gosling co-wrote this album with Zach Shields. Like: “Hey girl, I heard you liked ghosts and monsters and love stories, so I wrote you this monster-ghost-love story...” 

You’d look nice in a grave I smile at the moon, death is on my face And if you wait too long Then you’ll never see the dawn again 

30. Cat Power — Werewolf

I've had a long-time love for this eerie and beautiful Cat Power tune.

Oh the werewolf, oh the werewolf Comes stepping along He don’t even break the branches where he’s gone Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were a flying I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying

31. Neko Case — Deep Red Bells

This song was one of the inspirations for my poem which is appearing in the Hallow’s Eve issue. (The other inspiration was Seanan McGuire’s book The Girl in the Green Silk Gown.) It is a sad tribute to the murdered girls who are often forgotten.

Does your soul cast about like an old paper bag Past empty lots and early graves Of those like you who lost their way Murdered on the interstate While the red bells rang like thunder?

32. Nina Nastasia — In the Graveyard 

This season is all about honoring our dead, but sometimes we’re just not ready.

Someone told me that I should visit you in the graveyard Pull out all the weeds But I’m still lonely and I’m not ready You scared me when you hid behind the trees

33. Hozier — In a Week (feat. Karen Crowley)

This is another song, like “Dirt in the Ground” and “Mosquito Song,” which is about the cycle of life and death (we’re all gonna be dirt in the ground / all of us food that hasn’t died / after the foxes have known our taste). And call me weird and morbid, but I think it is one of the most romantic songs ever written. These lovers will not be parted even in death; death will only bind them closer together.

And they’d find us in a week When the buzzards get loud After the insects have made their claim After the foxes have known our taste After the raven has had its say I’d be home with you

Jessie Lynn McMains (they/them) is a poet, writer, zine-maker, and small press owner. They are a queer and non-binary mama to two wild kiddos. Aside from words, music is their favorite thing in the world. They’re also obsessed with tarot, the Midwest/Great Lakes/Rust Belt, ghosts, and the undying spirit of punk rock. You can find their website at recklesschants.net, or find them on Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram @rustbeltjessie.

[thelastpitchbender]

The Bone Merchant

Summary: When Beedle isn't busy selling quality arrows and insects to the good citizens of Hyrule, he dreams of founding a glorious business empire and publishing a bestselling book. It just so happens that an angry, shirtless kid with a bag full of monster parts might be able to help him out with that.

Notes: A goofy BotW oneshot, written because I love Beedle and because I’m a sucker for fics from NPC POVs that feature Link acting like a total nutjob. Did I mention that I love Beedle? Because I love Beedle.

Read on: FanFiction | AO3

The Bone Merchant

It was a pleasant walk from the edge of the Great Plateau to Riverside Stable, so long as you ignored the monsters.

This was something Beedle was very good at doing. You couldn’t just casuallywander Hyrule for several years without getting good at avoiding them, or sneaking past them, or running away from them. That was no small feat with the amount of goods he was carrying.

Beedle suddenly gasped. How had he not thought of that one before? Coming to an awkward halt, he fumbled around in a front pocket of his pack for his notebook and pencil, then flipped it open to the last page he had written on. He scribbled down a sentence while grinning like a maniac.

Rule #57: Get good at running. Especially with a really big backpack.

Beedle snapped the notebook shut in satisfaction. Beedle’s Guide to Modern Hyrulean Commercewas bound to be a bestseller, once he had the capital to print more than seven copies.

And once he had the book finished. That would also be helpful.

But really, the universal and pragmatic advice contained in the finished product would be invaluable to any traveling salesman –

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he flipped the notebook back open.

Addendum: Also get good at running with a dumb horse or donkey or whatever.

Yes, that was important. Beedle was somewhat unique in that he didn’t have an animal with him, but many other traveling salesmen did. He thought some more.

Note to self, he scribbled. Find someone who knows about horses and/or donkeys.

Satisfied with his progress, he put away the notebook and pencil.

He wandered down the road with his massive pack, humming an indistinct melody under his breath. It was a little after noon and the sun was beating down on him, but a pleasantly bracing breeze was coming off the Hylia River and cutting across the road. Not to mention that he wasn’t facing that eyesore of a Malice-infested castle, which did a lot to make his day better.

It was a beautiful day, really. There were a lot of people out on the roads, taking advantage of a day without rain. He recognized many of them as traveling salespeople and waved a greeting at them as they trotted by on their horses.

Beedle liked his pack better than horses. It made him look more distinctive and gave him a sort of brand, if you will. He liked to think that one could recognize his beetle-shaped pack even in a Hebra blizzard –

A sudden cacophony of noise sounded behind him. The ground shook under his feet.

Beedle turned around and peered at the ashen cloud cresting the hill he had just passed. Birds flew from the trees, the fluttering of wings fading as they left the area far behind.

Explosions. Probably coming from the East Post Ruins, he mused. Exactly what did those monsters think was going to happen if they kept explosive barrels lying around their camps? He rolled his eyes and kept on walking.

It wasn’t long until he reached the stable. Ember, the owner, called out a greeting from behind his counter. “Good to see you again, Beedle! Hylia knows I need some arrows to fight off the monsters.”

Beedle automatically smiled and waved at him, setting his pack down with a thunk, but beneath his mind was whirring. This stable was never threatened by monsters. Unless… He glanced over at the East Post Ruins a little nervously. He’d heard the rumors about monsters getting more aggressive in the past few weeks.

But regardless of his feelings on the matter, Beedle did what Beedle did best: sell lots of shit.

It was nice to finally sit down in front of his pack, shaded by the eaves of the stable. He folded down his colorful makeshift table, and soon enough the denizens of the stable lined up in front of him to stock up.

The pragmatically-minded bought bundles of arrows (at quite a bargain!) and the adventurous selected from a wide variety of quality insects (very cheap!) to cook elixirs. Well-worn rupees changed hands with one of his trademark excited hoots for every transaction, and Beedle soon found himself in possession of a very small fortune. He grinned delightedly, sifting his hands through the pile of rupees when he thought no one was looking.

Unfortunately, someone had been looking.

“There you are, you greedy-guts!” the Annoying Traveler yelled, stomping his way over from where he’d been in the stable. Beedle suppressed a scowl. That snake.That stupid weedy man with his dumb greasy black hair. Beedle didn’t even know his name, and he was sure the stable dwellers didn’t know it either. All he knew was that the traveler was, to put it nicely, the worst.

The traveler shook a bundle of arrows right in Beedle’s face. One end of an arrow that had snapped off but was now dangling by a thin strip of wood whacked him in the face. To Beedle’s infinite credit, he did not flinch.

Definitely not because the traveler was intimidating. It was his iron willpower. Definitely. It was one of his rules, even.

Rule #15: The modern Hyrulean economy is cutthroat, sometimes literally. Get good at standing your ground.

“I don’t see anything wrong with the arrows,” Beedle lied.

The traveler scowled, which made his stupid face even uglier. “Can. You. Not. See. What’s. In front of. YOUR FACE?” He punctuated this last shout by throwing the bundle of arrows dangerously close to Beedle’s feet. Upon hitting the ground, the bundle rudely broke apart, broken arrows rolling everywhere. Beedle grimaced at the mess.

Thisjerkfaceprobably broke the arrows on purpose, just to demand a full refund.

“I tested them all myself,” Beedle lied again. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie – he’d once watched his Rito supplier test them. He was very…thorough about it.

“Well, I demand a refund,” the traveler said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Beedle pointed to a small sign at the corner of his table. ALL TRANSACTIONS FINAL.

“They’re broken! They’re defective!” the traveler spluttered indignantly, his face going darker red by the second.

Beedle just sighed. It was too bad he had to follow his own cursed rules.

Rule #2: The customer is always right. Always be a paragon of excellent customer service.

Instead of arguing with the traveler, he rummaged through one of the front pockets of his pack, pulled out an inkwell and a quill, and then grabbed the sign. When he was finished writing, he put the sign back with a delicate yet deliberate motion.

THAT MEANS YOU, DEAR TRAVELER, it now read. Beedle gave him a guileless grin.

Rule #3: If customer service is not enough, strictly enforce store policy. (If you know what I mean.)

Ah, yes, Beedle reflected as the traveler stomped away, leaving the arrows at Beedle’s feet. His book would be quite the bestseller.

The traveler was now sitting by the cooking pot, able to shoot the occasional venomous glare over at Beedle. Ha! If he thought that was going to faze Beedle, Hyrule’s greatest traveling salesman…

Then Parcy walked out of the stable, and Beedle hastily scooped up as many of the broken arrows as possible and dumped them behind the pack before she noticed him. She looked rather severe, but she was much, much nicer than the Annoying Traveler, thank the Goddess.

She finally noticed him and strolled over, and Beedle laid on the charm. “Hello, hello! How’s my favorite treasure hunter doing? Find any good royal guard gear?”

Parcy smiled. “Not yet. Actually though, I wanted to talk to you about these arrows.” She pulled a bundle of broken arrows from behind her back.

Noooooooo, Beedle whined internally. They were actually bad?

“Did you shoot these at something?” he asked.

Parcy shrugged. “I broke a lot of them by shooting at hay targets. I don’t think they’re supposed to be that brittle.”

Beedle grimaced. He would have to have some strong words with his Rito supplier. “Ah. Well. I know I’m not supposed to do this,” he said, voice dropping conspiratorially low, “but I’ll give you a refund. I feel bad about selling things of poor quality, you know?”

Parcy’s gaze darted to the traveler for a brief instant, and Beedle knew that she’d heard the entire exchange earlier.

“I’ll do it because I like you so much,” he said, sending a wink at her.

Beedle was gratified to see a slight blush dust her cheeks. “Oh,” she said. “Well, I don’t need the refund. Can I just get a new bundle of arrows instead?”

“Sure can,” he said, gleefully noting the piercing glare he was getting from the traveler.

Things were going just the way they should be. Beautiful, sunny weather, flirting with Parcy, sticking it to the Annoying Traveler, getting filthy stinking rich –

“Hey, why don’t you put some clothes on before you start shoving people around, you little creep?” Parcy snapped.

Beedle blinked. “What?” he asked, startled by her sudden outburst.

But Parcy hadn’t been facing him. While Beedle had been totally zoned out, a kid had run up and tried to squeeze past Parcy. The kid shot her an irritated look.

That took a lot of guts, considering that he was wearing absolutely nothing but a pair of shorts.

What in the name of the good Goddess Hylia…?

The kid was now bent over and gasping, hands on his knees. He had dropped a suspiciously large burlap sack and a boko bow in front of him. He was covered in scrapes, cuts and bruises. His hair might have been blond, but it was hard to tell, messy and streaked with dirt and soot as it was.

“Mister – “ Beedle tried, determined to seem unfazed. He couldn’t deny service to anyone, suspicious or shirtless as they might have been!

The kid held one finger up while still catching his breath. Beedle waited patiently.

Rule #24: There will always be a customer weirder than you. (Beedle always debated whether or not to put that one in the book, because he couldn’t have potential customers thinking he was weird, after all.)

He finally straightened up and looked at Beedle, who immediately had to choke back a laugh and then feel terrible for having that impulse in the first place. His gaze was sharp, intense, and forbiddingly angry, but the effect was ruined by the fact that one of his eyebrows had been singed off and that he was shorter than Parcy. And also by the fact that he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

The kid seemed to realize that he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted because his expression shifted into something almost indignant. He planted his dirty, burned hands on his hips and continued to glare at Beedle.

Parcy was backing away slowly, reaching a hand behind her in an attempt to feel out where the stable wall was. Her brows were still furrowed, but she was rightfully being cautious about someone who looked insane. Ember was nowhere to be seen, and the traveler seemed frozen in alarm by the whole situation.

Ah, well. It seemed it was all up to Beedle now.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” he said, letting a smile plaster itself onto his face.

“I’m Link,” the kid replied. For a brief moment, Beedle caught a strange look of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly he brushed it off as his imagination.

“Link,” Beedle echoed. “Pleasure to meet you. The name’s Beedle, but you can call me – “ He chuckled a bit awkwardly. “Actually, let’s just stick with Beedle.”

Beedle desperately wanted to give his whole explanation about traveling around Hyrule, even in these very dangerous times, and offering a high price for gemstones, the quality insects, etc. etc., but now really did not seem like the time. The kid – Link – was puffing himself up, like he was holding in a torrential outpouring of words, or maybe just a really, really big breath.

Either way, the stiff, wide-eyed look on his face was funny, and Beedle’s smile grew more genuine again.

“Sell me arrows,” Link finally blurted.

Now this was something he could deal with. “How many?” Beedle asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

Link thought for a second, then answered decisively. “All of them.”

Beedle raised an eyebrow. He kept a list of people who liked to buy up his whole stock of arrows, and he wasn’t sure that Link would want to be on it. “I’ve got…three bundles of five arrows left. Then twenty more arrows,” he said, rummaging around in his pack for the arrows and doing some quick math in his head. “That’ll be…210 rupees.”

Link frowned. “Rupees,” he muttered, looking down at the ground.

“Yes. Rupees,” Beedle said, feeling his smile freeze on his face. He considered himself to be a pretty easygoing guy, but if this kid was trying to buy up his entire stock without actually having any money…

After what looked like some careful deliberation, Link scooped up the burlap sack and dumped its contents out in front of Beedle, who immediately did a double take. In the corner of his eye, he saw Parcy clap a hand over her mouth.

There was a massive pile of monster parts sitting in front of Beedle now. The blocky shapes of bokoblin fangs, razor-sharp lizalfos talons, and the spirals of moblin horns, all gleaming bone-white in the midday sun.

“Um,” Link said, bringing a hand up to his mouth in thought. “How many…?”

Arrows? Rupees? Fangs? Monsters murdered in cold blood? Aghast, Beedle glanced from the pile of bones to the scrawny, short kid behind them, then back to the bones.

Then an idea wormed its way into his mind. A wonderful idea. A glorious, insanely profitable idea.

“Let me sort these out so I can get you your rupees,” Beedle said while reaching out for the monster parts. He ignored Parcy’s alarmed glance in his direction.

Beedle also ignored his vague nausea at the idea of touching fangs and horns from dead monsters, overcome by visions of the fortune he could make. Piles of shimmering gold and silver rupees glimmered beneath his eyelids when he blinked.

Thiswas what he had been missing this whole time, he thought. As much as he loved his insects, the elixir market was in desperate need of sellers. So many missed opportunities to harvest the requisite raw materials just because traveling salespeople weren’t usually handy in a fight, especially not Beedle –

He abruptly realized that Link was now bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, eyebrows drawn together again. “How long is this going to take?” he asked, aggrieved. Link glanced over his shoulder quickly. Toward the East Post Ruins, Beedle realized, suspicion dawning in his mind.

“I’m sure you realize that all these different parts have different market values,” Beedle said with a frown. “I have to sort them out and then do the math.”

Link hesitated, then nodded, but it was clear by the brief surprise on his face that he hadn’t known that before. By Hylia, this kid was a bad liar. What kind of rock had he been living under?

After a couple of seconds, Link glanced up, staring out into the middle distance, tense as a bowstring. Beedle felt a sudden uneasiness sweep over him at Link’s change in demeanor. He couldn’t hear anything. Why –

He couldn’t hear anything. No birds were singing at all, as if something had scared them all off. Had Link…pissed some monsters off? Who were now coming for him? To this very stable?

“Can I just take the arrows now and do the whole other thing later?” Link pleaded, reaching for the boko bow at his feet.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.

“If you’re going to bring monsters right to this lovely stable’s doorstep, I feel compelled to warn its owner,” Beedle said while lifting up the table in front of him and crawling out from under it.

Link’s eyes widened in alarm. “I never said – “

“You’re a bad liar, kid,” Beedle cut in, not unkindly. “I’ll get you the arrows when I come back out.”

No guarantees on how long it would take him to inform Ember, he thought, twisting his hands nervously.

A quick glance at the counter inside the stable revealed it to be empty. The traveler had fled, too. “Ohhhhh,” Beedle said to himself, quietly, more a groan than his usual declaration of excitement.

How? Why? Just – how? Why did Link have a bow but no arrows? How did he amass such a large collection of monster parts without any functional weapons? Where did all those burns and cuts come from? And why was he running around in his underwear?

Beedle’s private moment of panic was interrupted by a high-pitched shriek of “IT SET ME ON FIRE HELP – “

Beedle froze for a second, somehow thinking nothing but how can Link be on fire? He’s barely wearing any clothes!

Shortly after, Parcy yelled, ���Beedle!” She sounded like she was calling for help while staring down an angry lynel. At her shout, Beedle ran back outside and gaped at the scene.

Well, it wasn’t a lynel, but it wasn’t pretty either.

Link was rolling around on the ground, swatting furiously at his shorts. A red bokoblin was looming above him, stamping its feet and shrieking in anger, looking for all the world like a child having a tantrum. It was hefting a heavy moblin club, which was currently on fire, just like Link’s shorts were.

The situation was so stupid that Beedle was immediately irritated rather than scared. For one, it was now clear to him that Link had been responsible for the explosions at the East Post Ruins and that these monsters were angry enough to chase him.

“Is this some new teenager thing?” he asked Parcy, who was pressed up against the wall of the stable and staring at the bokoblin with very wide eyes. “Sneaking into monster camps and throwing around explosive barrels? I bet it’s a stupid teenager thing.”

Parcy ignored him, which was uncharacteristic of her. While still flat against the wall, she slid down a bit and dragged Link’s boko bow toward her with her foot until she could scoop it up without having to get any closer to the monster. “Link!” she called out.

Link finally stopped rolling and scrambled to his feet. Parcy tossed him the bow, and he fumbled at it a bit before it was secure in his hands.

“That’s nice of you,” said Link while ducking under a mighty swipe from the bokoblin, “but I kind of need arrows!”

Parcy glanced at Beedle, imploring, and he groaned in frustration. Math. How was he supposed to do mathwhen a bokoblin was in the middle of attacking his customer?

This wasn’t in any of his rules. Any of them. They all stressed the utmost importance of not being around monsters at any time!

Well, when life gave you spicy peppers. Time to throw the rulebook out, Beedle thought with a huff.

“I’ll make you a deal, Link,” Beedle yelled at him. “I’ll trade you one monster part for one arrow.”

It was brilliant. Most of those monster parts were worth more than a single arrow. Now he just had to hope Link wouldn’t catch on –

“I’ve been asleep for the last hundred years, so I might be wrong–“ The bokoblin smacked Link in the back with its club, and he sprawled face-first into the dirt. “–But aren’t they each worth more than a single arrow?” he finished while rolling away from another strike.

Goddess curse him. He was insane and knowledgeable about the elixir trade.

“The bokoblin horns are only worth 3 rupees each,” said Beedle, no longer feeling bad about watching him get smacked around. “So essentially you would be getting two arrows for the price of one. Can’t beat that deal!” If Link played his cards right, anyway. Beedle eyed the pile of monster parts greedily.

The bokoblin was now straying a little too close to the very flammable walls of the stable, and Link said, “Fine, fine! Give me one!” He snapped his fingers at Beedle and held out his hand, the expression on his face suggesting a mix of irritation and determination.

Beedle deliberately picked a lizalfos talon out of the pile and deposited it near his pack. Ha. That was two and a half arrows right there. That would show him to be rude to Parcy.

No sooner had Beedle pulled an arrow out of his pack and placed it in Link’s hand did Link nock it, draw the string back, and let the arrow fly right between the bokoblin’s eyes. The monster spun around and staggered back while screaming.

Parcy and Beedle both gaped at Link. He moved with a warrior’s grace and brutal efficiency, the likes of which Beedle very rarely saw. He wordlessly held his hand out for another arrow, and Beedle complied, pulling a bokoblin horn out of the pile. Half price for an arrow.

Boy, had he made a mistake in assuming Link was just a short, scrawny kid.

The second arrow hit in almost exactly the same spot as the first and felled the monster. As it vanished in a sickly purple cloud of smoke, Link picked up the fang and horn that was left behind and dropped it into the pile. “There’s more,” he said quietly.

“What, more monsters?” Parcy’s disembodied voice sniped. Beedle looked around wildly before realizing that she had hid behind a crate after seeing what Link could do. “What did you do to them?”

Beedle was about to point out that his comment didn’t necessarily mean there were more monsters coming, but he shut his mouth at the gloomy look on Link’s face.

“For starters, I blew up their camp. But they started it!” he amended hastily, eyes wide and innocent.

Normally that would have been true, but Beedle somehow doubted that Link hadn’t provoked them in any way. “So where’s all your clothes?” Beedle asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

Link had the grace to look embarrassed. “They stole them. While I was swimming.”

“Right. And where did that bow come from?”

Beedle half expected Link to say something like, Oh, I just clubbed a bokoblin to death with his dead buddy’s weapon, then I took the bow, but he chimed in with, “Oh, I had it with me.”

“With you. While you were swimming,” said Parcy from behind the crate.

“For target practice,” said Link evasively.

“In the middle of a river – “ Parcy shouted.

Beedle cut her off before she could strangle Link. “With no arrows?” he finished.

Link’s brows furrowed in faint indignation. “Well, I realized that, but by the time I got back to shore they were running off with all my stuff!”

“I still don’t understand how you thought you were going to be able to shoot a bow in the middle of the Hylia River, but okay,” groused Parcy.

Link ignored her comment, turning to Beedle. “Give me…” He frowned. “How many can I fit in my mouth…?”

It took Beedle a second to realize what had been said. “What?”

“Five arrows,” Link decided.

Beedle decided that it was nothis business to know what sort of weird things his customers were into. He shrugged and counted out five random monster parts (with an aggregate value of…36 rupees, so worth six arrows, his mind automatically calculated).

He handed the five arrows to Link, who promptly tried holding them between his teeth.

“Ohhh,” Beedle said, feeling a bit stupid. What else was he going to do, stick them down his shorts?

He noticed that Parcy was snooping around the crates for something. She was looking for weapons, he realized. He paled.

Parcy hefted a double-headed axe and said, “Hey, Link – “

“I think you should keep that one, Parcy,” Beedle interrupted. “Two people fighting is better than one.”

Parcy glared at him and opened her mouth, but Link cut in. “He’s right. I’ll be fine with just a bow.”

Beedle’s knees weakened with relief and he let out a breath. There was still time to get more monster parts…

“If you’d let me talk, you’d know that never have I ever been in an actual fight,” Parcy grumbled, but she grudgingly held onto the axe. It wasn’t particularly surprising that Beedle had managed to convince her, what with her constantly going on about the royal guards’ weapons.

“There’s more of them coming up the road,” Link suddenly said, exasperation edging his voice. He put the arrows in his mouth again, then took one and nocked it. Parcy shuffled over to where he was, hefting the axe in an awkward ready stance.

Beedle backed up to his pack. Someone had to keep an eye on the arrows and bones, after all.

A sudden faint screeching sounded in the distance, accompanied by dust clouds rising from the road ahead. Beedle shrank back. This went against everyinstinct he had. Don’t get close! Don’t fight them! Don’t die!

Fat lot of good his instincts were doing now, Beedle thought wearily. He absently sorted arrows and monster parts into piles, ready for the inevitable trades. He ignored the way sweat slicked his palms and the things he was touching.

Curse that Link. Stupid kid.

There were now a group of bokoblins running at full tilt toward them. Some were twirling their clubs above their heads, and some were sending very poorly aimed arrows at the Hylians clustered by the stable. There would be a lot of screaming involved in the fight, Beedle thought with ill humor. At least he could brew himself an elixir to cure his inevitable headache with all his own monster parts.

Oh, but his rules. Rule #9: Never get high on your own supply. (He really did have to change the wording there. He wasn’t a Goddess cursed drug dealer, after all.)

“Damn you to hell, Link,” he hissed under his breath in extreme irritation. “If we don’t get out of this, I’m having some strong words with some of my friends. You won’t even know what’s coming.”

The threat hung in the air for a brief second before the first bokoblin reached Link’s firing distance.

Link’s infallible aim got the bokoblin stumbling back, clutching its face, and Beedle had instant second thoughts. Again.

Parcy’s arms were shaking. She shrieked and took a wild swing with her axe as a monster lunged for her. Beedle cringed as she missed and the momentum of her swing spun her around. The bokoblin screamed and hefted its club. Parcy could do nothing but stare in terror. Even Beedle shot to his feet, pulse racing.

The bokoblin suddenly fell to the ground, an arrow sprouting from its eye. Link was giving its corpse a ferocious stare. The first bokoblin he had shot ran at him, and he immediately pivoted and felled the monster.

Parcy was poking at the fallen bokoblins with her axe to make sure they were dead, Beedle noticed with no small amount of amusement.

Then a shadow fell over her, and before he could stop himself Beedle yelled, “Behind you!”

Parcy whipped around with a shriek, and the force her spin gave her axe swing was enough to send the bokoblin flying to the side. Beedle whooped, feeling secondhand euphoria at her victory.

Link, who had also turned around at Beedle’s shout, scowled at him. “Hey, where’s my warning?”

“You don’t need it, pal,” Beedle said, not unkindly, while Link finished off the monster Parcy hit with a well-aimed arrow.

“Sure I do!” Link still managed to sound indignant while ducking under a boko club and edging his way over to Beedle. “I’m fighting with a bow that’s basically a twig with delusions of grandeur!”

Beedle cast a critical eye at the boko bow, which was starting to show the strain of its use. Some bark was peeling off it, and the bowstring was starting to fray. It really was just a glorified stick, wasn’t it? So it would take more arrows to kill all the bokoblins. Oh no.

Link was holding his hand out for arrows. With the practiced ease of a merchant, Beedle scooped up a bundle of five arrows in one hand and five assorted monster parts in the other.

Fireproof elixirs, hasty elixirs, elixirs that renew your very soul and grant you a new lease on life…

Beedle suddenly had to flinch out of the way of a bokoblin’s club. Parcy chased after it, screaming like a banshee with her axe held over her head.

“You go, Parcy!” Beedle yelled giddily. Link frowned at the lack of attention he was getting, but it couldn’t be helped. This was a special occasion for Parcy! It was obvious Link had been in many fights before.

Before long, there was only one blue bokoblin left. It was the one that had set Link on fire earlier, and its club was somehow still on fire. It stamped its feet and screeched at Link, who hopped on top of a crate and yelled back, “I’ll set your houseon fire!”

Eh. Beedle didn’t need any more proof that Link was certifiably insane, but there was some more anyway.

“Do you have any fire arrows, Beedle?” Link shouted. Beedle resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Not because of the question, which was perfectly legitimate. He wished he could carry them, but he was always nervous about putting that sort of stuff in his pack.

No, he choked back a snort because Link was being absolutely melodramatic. If that Kass guy were around, he doubtlessly would have said something about how Link’s shout rumbled with the thunder of vengeance. But really, Link was doing the thing where he was puffing himself up again, and it looked just as stupid the second time. At least he was standing on a crate now.

Beedle sprinted over to another crate on the other side of the stable, ripping a blanket off of it and clumsily tearing a strip as he ran back to his pack. He tied the strip just above the arrowhead, then stuck the end under the still-lit cooking pot for just a brief second.

Ugh, I hope this works.

The strip of cloth was aflame, but there was no telling how long it would take for the flame to spread to the shaft of the arrow. He knew it was treated with some sort of lacquer, but he had no idea exactly how much fire protection that afforded.

Oh, wait. This next part was even worse.

Link had seen what Beedle was doing, and beckoned him forward impatiently. But how was he supposed to get around that big flaming moblin club?

His brief giddiness faded when he realized that now it was histurn to get involved in the fight.

“Parcy,” he hissed.

Parcy seemed to know what he needed without saying a word. She nodded and ran to the bokoblin’s other side, hollering and waving her axe around.

For an instant, Beedle was frozen. The heat of the burning arrow scorched his hand and forearm. Sweat ran down his forehead.

Move.

The bokoblin was distracted. Link was shouting something at him that he wasn’t quite comprehending. The path he needed to run was clear.

Just move, dammit.

He heard Parcy’s scream, and a ball of terror formed in his gut. She had fallen backward and the bokoblin was raising its burning club above its head.

The moment broke, and Beedle ran.

He passed the burning arrow into Link’s outstretched hand and immediately ran back to his pack, gasping for breath and shaking his hand out.

Link nocked the arrow, drew back, and fired. The bokoblin fell forward, and Parcy narrowly scrambled out of its way. She stood up and landed the killing blow on its skull before it could get up.

They all stood there for a moment. Beedle was nursing his hand by his new large pile of monster parts. Link was rolling his shoulders, apparently still comfortable with being nearly naked and filthy, besides. Parcy was staring down at the blue bokoblin’s body in faint wonder. Sweat stuck her dark hair to her face, which was almost prettily flushed. She looked up at Beedle, and he grinned at her.

Link ruined the moment by hopping down from the crate and loudly declaring, “I am going to go find my stuff.”

Beedle could only find the strength to nod before he plopped down by the fire. Hylia, sprinting a little bit and trading for arrows during a fight was exhausting. Parcy clearly had the same thought. She joined him by the fire, letting the bloodied axe thud to the ground.

They sat in companionable silence, watching the sun slowly slip over the horizon and paint Hyrule with brilliant orange, pink, and red. Beedle loved a lot of things about Hyrule, but one of the things he loved most was how the Hylia River became a ribbon of fire at the end of the day. The temperature was rapidly dropping, but it felt strangely welcoming after the fight.

Like most peaceful moments of this particular day, it was interrupted by Link. He was coming back up the road, genially calling out, “Hey, anyone want some food?”

Beedle wanted badly to say yes, but he was momentarily startled by Link’s appearance. He had clearly taken a bath in the river at some point, as Beedle could now definitely tell that yes, Link was blond. He no longer looked so small when he was armed to the teeth, either. He had amassed quite the collection of wooden clubs, along with a broadsword and a knight’s bow, all of which were strapped to his back. He carried the weight like it was nothing.

But Beedle was most interested in his clothes. Not his trousers or boots, which were torn and muddied garden-variety clothes that one could buy at any town in Hyrule. It was his tunic. It was as blue as the sky, and although it looked to be in fantastic shape, the tunic had clearly been meticulously, even lovingly mended many, many times. Maybe by Link himself, Beedle suspected, noting how clean it was compared to everything else he was wearing.

He really did not mean to dwell on the tunic, but it was some of the finest tailoring he had ever seen in his journeys around Hyrule. Rito craftsmanship, perhaps? With a visit to Kochi Dye Shop? Wherever it came from, it had to have been exorbitantly expensive. Beedle leaned forward and eyed the pattern of white embroidery around the neckline with great interest.

Then an elbow caught him in the side and he cringed.

“Stop being rude,” Parcy snapped. “Of course we want food.”

Food. “Yes, definitely,” Beedle said hastily. “Thank you.”

Link merely looked amused. It was amazing what a proper bath and some actual clothes had done to make him look like not a lunatic.

He pulled some foraged ingredients out of his bag – Beedle saw some prime meat, what looked like wheat, and a bottle of milk – and dumped it in the pot, humming cheerily as the ingredients sizzled. Beedle watched the pot closely, suspicious that just dumping it all in would do anything.

But once Parcy emerged from the stable with bowls and spoons in hand, Link’s creamy meat soup was finished. By Hylia, was it better than anything Beedle could ever manage to cook up. Link looked far too pleased, almost smug, about how much Beedle and Parcy were enjoying their meals.

When they were all finished, the sun had almost set entirely. Parcy went around and lit all the exterior lamps of the stable, which cast a warm, golden glow on the cooking pot.

“Sorry I was rude to both of you earlier,” Link said, not quite making eye contact. “I was really hungry.”

“Just hungry?” Parcy deadpanned.

Unexpectedly, Link laughed, and the other two cracked a smile as well.

“So do you travel around Hyrule?” Beedle asked, his curiosity about the tunic still not satisfied. “I wonder why I haven’t met you before.”

“Hyrule is a big place,” Link said, sounding curiously unsure of himself.

Beedle shrugged. “You seem like an avid traveler. Where else would you have gotten all those weapons and that really nice tunic?”

Something in Link’s expression shuttered. The temperature seemed to drop just a touch. Beedle immediately shut his mouth, feeling acutely aware that he had made a grave misstep in some way.

“A friend made it for me,” Link eventually said, staring off into the distance. The look in his eyes wasn’t cold, exactly, but it was stony, intent, and suddenly very, very old.

Beedle swallowed, suddenly understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Link shook his head. “It’s alright. I can still save her.”

Beedle and Parcy exchanged worried glances as Link stood up and began collecting his things. “Wait, you’re leaving now?” Parcy asked with a frown. “We have plenty of beds.”

“I’ve slept enough for a lifetime,” Link said, and his smile was too full of melancholy for Beedle to make fun of him for that statement.

“I’m sure I’ll run into you again on the road,” Beedle said. “And bring me more monster parts next time!”

Link grinned and nodded. Then he waved goodbye and started walking north, along the river. Beedle watched until he vanished into the twilight.

“Goddess, he was weird,” Parcy muttered.

“Maybe, but I get the sense he’ll be a regular customer,” Beedle absently replied. Glancing at his pack, he realized that Link had left him all of the monster parts. He shook his head in exasperation. He somehow didn’t think Link would make a good business partner, but at least these monster parts would get him somewhere.

Suddenly, the Annoying Traveler burst out of the trees, out of breath. “Is he gone?”

“Who, nutjob shirtless kid?” Parcy sniped. “Where were you all this time?”

The traveler gave her a condescending look. “Well, when the kid mentioned that he was leading a whole cohort of monsters to the stable, I did what any saneperson would have done and got the hell out of here,” he said loftily.

“No need to be such a jerk about it,” Parcy was muttering, but Beedle was again concerned with the rise in monster activity. In the day’s excitement, he had forgotten just how unusual it was for monsters to have chased Link all the way from the East Post Ruins to Riverside Stable. There was that rumor he’d heard. Yeah, that the monsters were more aggressive, but there was a reason for it. What was it? Something about…uh…

“Apparently, our lives were in danger because the Champion of Hyrule has ‘awakened,’” the traveler said, with exaggerated air quotes and a copious amount of eyerolling. Oh, yeah, that was the rumor.

“It’s just a dumb story,” said Parcy. She was clearly losing her patience with the traveler.

Beedle agreed. It was a dumb story. The Calamity was dangerous, but only if you got too close to the castle. It showed no signs of budging. If it hadn’t destroyed Hyrule yet, was it reallyever going to?

And the stories everyone told their kids about how Hyrule’s valiant princess awakened her sealing power with her love for her appointed knight was clearly romanticized drivel. No one really believed that the princess was still alive, or her knight for that matter.

But maybe…

Link’s fighting skills were unparalleled, and his tunic certainly befit a Champion of Hyrule.

“What if…” Beedle began, but Parcy cut him off.

“Yeah, I really don’t think so,” she scoffed, but he saw the trace of doubt in her eyes.

The traveler scowled. “Oh, no. No way.”

“That’s what I said– “

The traveler kicked Beedle’s pile of monster parts, scattering them about. “There’s no way that kid could be the Champion,” he furiously hissed. “Master Kohga is going to kill me.”

“Hey, take it easy,” Beedle said indignantly, scooping his fangs and horns up while shooting a glare at the traveler.

The traveler completely ignored him. He walked back into the trees from which he came, muttering darkly under his breath.

“Well, good riddance.” Parcy stuck her tongue out in the direction he went, and busied herself cleaning out the cooking pot.

Beedle just sighed and started stowing all of his new supplies in his pack. His fingers brushed against his notebook, and he hesitated for a moment. Throughout the day, he’d totally forgotten about his rules. Certainly none of them had really applied to Link’s insanity.

Was his guide to commerce just a pipe dream? Was his elixir empire just a far-off fantasy? Everything felt like such a long way off. He felt like he would never be able to write a good book if people just kept showing up and throwing his rules out the window.

And he loved his insects. He hated fighting monsters. Today had certainly proven that. How would he ever feasibly be able to make and sell elixirs? Link was clearly a warrior, not a salesman. He doubtlessly had better things to do than be Beedle’s errand boy and bring him monster parts.

In that moment, Beedle felt strangely lonely. He sat down and pulled the notebook and quill out, hesitating over a blank page. What did I learn today?After a moment, he decided.

Rule #58: Don’t be afraid to adapt to new, bizarre circumstances or realizations.

And like that, Beedle had a new business idea.

Totally unrelated to the notebook, but no less brilliant. If he couldn’t bring himself to grind up his insects, why not have other people do it? Make-your-own-elixir gift packs. People would eat that up.

Beedle grinned and was about to pitch the idea to Parcy when suddenly he spotted Ember almost at the stable, leading a horse loaded with saddlebags.

Ember blinked at the absolute mess the fight had left his stable in, nonplussed. “Um. What did I miss?”

[readbookywooks]

'Not for nothing did I dread this errand,' he said. 'For it will be my last, it seems. With this unlucky child of Men I shall perish in the wilderness, and my name shall be held in scorn in Doriath: if any tidings indeed are ever heard of our fate. All else doubtless are slain, and she alone spared, but not in mercy.' Thus they were found by three of the company that had fled from Narog at the coming of Glaurung, and after much wandering, when the mist had passed, went back to the hill; and finding it empty they had begun to seek their way home. Hope then returned to Mablung; and they went on now together steering northward and eastward, for there was no road back into Doriath in the south, and since the fall of Nargothrond the ferry-wards were forbidden to set any across save those that came from within. Slow was their journey, as for those that lead a weary child. But ever as they passed further from Nargothrond and drew nearer to Doriath, so little by little strength returned to Nienor, and she would walk hour by hour obediently, led by the hand. Yet her wide eyes saw nothing, and her ears heard no words, and her lips spoke no words. And now at length after many days they came nigh to the west border of Doriath, somewhat south of the Teiglin; for they intended to pass the fences of the little land of Thingol beyond Sirion and so come to the guarded bridge near the inflowing of Esgalduin. There a while they halted; and they laid Nienor on a couch of grass, and she closed her eyes, as she had not yet done, and it seemed that she slept. Then the Elves rested also, and for very weariness were unheedful. Thus they were assailed at unawares by a band of orc-hunters, such as now roamed much in that region, as nigh to the fences of Doriath as they dared to go. In the midst of the affray suddenly Nienor leapt up from her couch, as one waking out of sleep to an alarm by night, and with a cry she sped away into the forest. Then the Orcs turned and gave chase, and the Elves after them. But a strange change had come upon Nienor and now she outran them all, flying like a deer among the trees with her hair streaming in the wind of her speed. The Orcs indeed Mablung and his companions swiftly overtook, and they slew them one and all, and hastened on. But by then Nienor had passed away like a wraith; and neither sight nor slot of her could they find, though they hunted far northward and searched for many days. Then at last Mablung returned to Doriath bowed with grief and with shame. 'Choose you a new master of your hunters, lord,' he said to the King. 'For I am dishonoured.' But Melian said: 'It is not so, Mablung. You did all that you could, and none other among the King's servants would have done so much. But by ill chance you were matched against a power too great for you, too great indeed for all that now dwell in Middle-earth.' 'I sent you to win tidings, and that you have done,' said Thingol. 'It is no fault of yours that those whom your tidings touch nearest are now beyond hearing. Grievous indeed is this end of all Hurin's kin, but it lies not at your door.' For not only was Nienor now run witless into the wild, but Morwen also was lost. Neither then nor after did any certain news of her fate come to Doriath or to Dor-lomin. Nonetheless Mablung would not rest, and with a small company he went into the wild and for three years wandered far, from Ered Wethrin even to the Mouths of Sirion, seeking for sign or tidings of the lost. CHAPTER XV NIeNOR IN BRETHIL But as for Nienor, she ran on into the wood, hearing the shouts of pursuit come behind; and her clothing she tore off, casting away her garments one by one as she fled, until she went naked; and all that day still she ran, as a beast that is hunted to heart-bursting, and dare not stay or draw breath. But at evening suddenly her madness passed. She stood still a moment as in wonder, and then, in a swoon of utter weariness, she fell as one stricken down into a deep brake of fern. And there amid the old bracken and the swift fronds of spring she lay and slept, heedless of all. In the morning she woke, and rejoiced in the light as one first called to life; and all things that she saw seemed to her new and strange, and she had no names for them. For behind her lay only an empty darkness, through which came no memory of anything she had ever known, nor any echo of any word. A shadow of fear only she remembered, and so she was wary, and sought ever for hidings: she would climb into trees or slip into thickets, swift as a squirrel or fox, if any sound or shadow frightened her; and thence she would peer long through the leaves with shy eyes, before she went on again. Thus going forward in the way she first ran, she came to the river Teiglin, and stayed her thirst; but no food she found, nor knew how to seek it, and she was famished and cold. And since the trees across the water seemed closer and darker (as indeed they were, being the eaves of Brethil forest) she crossed over at last, and came to a green mound and there cast herself down: for she was spent, and it seemed to her that the darkness that lay behind her was overtaking her again, and the sun going dark. But indeed it was a black storm that came up out of the South, laden with lightning and great rain; and she lay there cowering in terror of the thunder, and the dark rain smote her nakedness, and she watched without words as a wild thing that is trapped. Now it chanced that some of the woodmen of Brethil came by in that hour from a foray against Orcs, hastening over the Crossings of Teiglin to a shelter that was near; and there came a great flash of lightning, so that the Haudh-en-Elleth was lit as with a white flame. Then Turambar who led the men started back and covered his eyes, and trembled; for it seemed that he saw the wraith of a slain maiden that lay on the grave of Finduilas. But one of the men ran to the mound, and called to him: 'Hither, lord! Here is a young woman lying, and she lives!' and Turambar coming lifted her, and the water dripped from her drenched hair, but she closed her eyes and quivered and strove no more. Then marvelling that she lay thus naked Turambar cast his cloak about her and bore her away to the hunters' lodge in the woods. There they lit a fire and wrapped coverlets about her, and she opened her eyes and looked upon them; and when her glance fell on Turambar a light came in her face and she put out a hand towards him, for it seemed to her that she had found at last something that she had sought in the darkness, and she was comforted. But Turambar took her hand, and smiled, and said: 'Now, lady, will you not tell us your name and your kin, and what evil has befallen you?' Then she shook her head, and said nothing, but began to weep; and they troubled her no more, until she had eaten hungrily of what food they could give her. And when she had eaten she sighed, and laid her hand again in Turambar's; and he said: 'With us you are safe. Here you may rest this night, and in the morning we will lead you to our homes up in the high forest. But we would know your name and your kin, so that we may find them, maybe, and bring them news of you. Will you not tell us?' But again she made no answer, and wept. 'Do not be troubled!' said Turambar. 'Maybe the tale is too sad yet to tell. But I will give you a name, and call you Niniel, Maid of Tears.' And at that name she looked up, and she shook her head, but said: 'Niniel.' And that was the first word that she spoke after her darkness, and it was her name among the woodmen ever after. In the morning they bore Niniel towards Ephel Brandir, and the road went steeply up until it came to a place where it must cross the tumbling stream of Celebros. There a bridge of wood had been built, and below it the stream went over a lip of worn stone, and fell down by many foaming steps into a rocky bowl far below; and all the air was filled with spray like rain. There was a wide green sward at the head of the falls, and birches grew about it, but over the bridge there was a wide view towards the ravines of Teiglin some two miles to the west. There the air was ever cool, and there wayfarers in summer would rest and drink of the cold water. Dimrost, the Rainy Stair, those falls were called, but after that day Nen Girith, the Shuddering Water; for Turambar and his men halted there, but as soon as Niniel came to that place she grew cold and shivered, and they could not warm her or comfort her. Therefore they hastened on their way; but before they came to Ephel Brandir Niniel was wandering in a fever. Long she lay in her sickness, and Brandir used all his skill in her healing, and the wives of the woodmen watched over her by night and by day. But only when Turambar stayed near her would she lie at peace, or sleep without moaning; and this thing all marked that watched her: throughout all her fever, though often she was much troubled, she murmured never a word in any tongue of Elves or of Men. And when health slowly returned to her, and she waked, and began to eat again, then as with a child the women of Brethil must teach her to speak, word by word. But in this learning she was quick and took great delight, as one that finds again treasures, great and small, that were mislaid; and when at length she had learned enough to speak with her friends she would say: 'What is the name of this thing? For in my darkness I lost it.' And when she was able to go about again, she would seek the house of Brandir; for she was most eager to learn the names of all living things, and he knew much of such matters; and they would walk together in the gardens and the glades. Then Brandir grew to love her; and when she grew strong she would lend him her arm for his lameness, and she called him her brother. But to Turambar her heart was given, and only at his coming would she smile, and only when he spoke gaily would she laugh. One evening of the golden autumn they sat together, and the sun set the hillside and the houses of Ephel Brandir aglow, and there was a deep quiet. Then Niniel said to him: 'Of all things I have now asked the name, save you. What are you called?' 'Turambar,' he answered. Then she paused as if listening for some echo; but she said: 'And what does that say, or is it just the name for you alone?' 'It means,' said he, 'Master of the Dark Shadow. For I also, Niniel, had my darkness, in which dear things were lost; but now I have overcome it, I deem.' 'And did you also flee from it, running, until you came to these fair woods?' she said. 'And when did you escape, Turambar?' 'Yes,' he answered. 'I fled for many years. And I escaped when you did so. For it was dark when you came, Niniel, but ever since it has been light. And it seems to me that what I long sought in vain has come to me.' And as he went back to his house in the twilight, he said to himself: 'Haudh-en-Elleth! From the green mound she came. Is that a sign, and how shall I read it?' Now that golden year waned and passed to a gentle winter, and there came another bright year. There was peace in Brethil, and the woodmen held themselves quiet and went not abroad, and they heard no tidings of the lands that lay about them. For the Orcs that at that time came southward to the dark reign of Glaurung, or were sent to spy on the borders of Doriath, shunned the Crossings of Teiglin, and passed westward far beyond the river. And now Niniel was fully healed, and was grown fair and strong, and Turambar restrained himself no longer, but asked her in marriage. Then Niniel was glad; but when Brandir heard of it his heart was sick within him, and he said to her: 'Be not in haste! Think me not unkindly, if I counsel you to wait.' 'Nothing that you do is done unkindly,' she said. 'But why then do you give me such counsel, wise brother?' 'Wise brother?' he answered. 'Lame brother, rather, unloved and unlovely. And I scarce know why. Yet there lies a shadow on this man, and I am afraid.' 'There was a shadow,' said Niniel, 'for so he told me. But he has escaped from it, even as I. And is he not worthy of love? Though he now holds himself at peace, was he not once the greatest captain, from whom all our enemies would flee, if they saw him?' 'Who told you this?' said Brandir. 'It was Dorlas,' she said. 'Does he not speak truth?' 'Truth indeed,' said Brandir, but he was ill pleased, for Dorlas was chief of that party that wished for war on the Orcs. And yet he sought still for reasons to delay Niniel; and he said therefore: 'The truth, but not the whole truth; for he was the Captain of Nargothrond, and came before out of the North, and was (it is said) son of Hurin of Dor-lomin of the warlike House of Hador.' And Brandir, seeing the shadow that passed over her face at that name, misread her, and said more: 'Indeed, Niniel, well may you think that such a one is likely ere long to go back to war, far from this land, maybe. And if so, how long will you endure it? Have a care, for I forebode that if Turambar goes again to battle, then not he but the Shadow shall have the mastery.' 'Ill would I endure it,' she answered; 'but unwedded no better than wedded. And a wife, maybe, would better restrain him, and hold off the shadow.' Nonetheless she was troubled by the words of Brandir, and she bade Turambar wait yet a while. And he wondered and was downcast; but when he learned from Niniel that Brandir had counselled her to wait he was ill pleased. But when the next spring came he said to Niniel: 'Time passes. We have waited, and now I will wait no longer. Do as your heart bids you, Niniel most dear, but see: this is the choice before me. I will go back now to war in the wild; or I will wed you, and go never to war again �C save only to defend you, if some evil assails our home.' Then she was glad indeed, and she plighted her troth, and at the mid-summer they were wedded; and the woodmen made a great feast, and they gave them a fair house which they had built for them upon Amon Obel. There they dwelt in happiness, but Brandir was troubled, and the shadow on his heart grew deeper. CHAPTER XVI THE COMING OF GLAURUNG Now the power and malice of Glaurung grew apace, and he waxed fat, and he gathered Orcs to him, and ruled as a dragon-king, and all the realm of Nargothrond that had been was laid under him. And before this year ended, the third of Turambar's dwelling among the woodmen, he began to assail their land, which for a while had had peace; for indeed it was well known to Glaurung and to his Master that in Brethil there abode a remnant of free men, the last of the Three Houses to defy the power of the North. And this they would not brook; for it was the purpose of Morgoth to subdue all Beleriand and to search out its every corner, so that none in any hole or hiding might live that were not thrall to him. Thus, whether Glaurung guessed where Turin was hidden, or whether (as some hold) he had indeed for that time escaped from the eye of Evil that pursued him, is of little matter. For in the end the counsels of Brandir must prove vain, and at the last two choices only could there be for Turambar: to sit deedless until he was found, driven forth like a rat; or to go forth soon to battle, and be revealed. But when tidings of the coming of the Orcs were first brought to Ephel Brandir, he did not go forth and yielded to the prayers of Niniel. For she said: 'Our homes are not yet assailed, as your word was. It is said that the Orcs are not many. And Dorlas told me that before you came such affrays were not seldom, and the woodmen held them off.' But the woodmen were worsted, for these Orcs were of a fell breed, fierce and cunning; and indeed they came with a purpose to invade the Forest of Brethil, not as before passing through its eaves on other errands, or hunting in small bands. Therefore Dorlas and his men were driven back with loss, and the Orcs came over Teiglin and roamed far into the woods. And Dorlas came to Turambar and showed his wounds, and he said: 'See, lord, now is the time of our need come upon us, after a false peace, even as I foreboded. Did you not ask to be counted one of our people, and no stranger? Is this peril not yours also? For our homes will not remain hidden, if the Orcs come further into our land.' Therefore Turambar arose, and took up again his sword Gurthang, and he went to battle; and when the woodmen learned this they were greatly heartened, and they gathered to him, till he had a force of many hundreds. Then they hunted through the forest and slew all the Orcs that crept there, and hung them on the trees near the Crossings of Teiglin. And when a new host came against them, they trapped it, and being surprised both by the numbers of the woodmen and by the terror of the Black Sword that had returned, the Orcs were routed and slain in great number. Then the woodmen made great pyres and burned the bodies of the soldiers of Morgoth in heaps, and the smoke of their vengeance rose black into heaven, and the wind bore it away westward. But few living went back to Nargothrond with these tidings. Then Glaurung was wrathful indeed; but for a while he lay still and pondered what he had heard. Thus the winter passed in peace, and men said: 'Great is the Black Sword of Brethil, for all our enemies are overcome.' And Niniel was comforted, and she rejoiced in the renown of Turambar; but he sat in thought, and he said in his heart: 'The die is cast. Now comes the test, in which my boast shall be made good, or fail utterly. I will flee no more. Turambar indeed I will be, and by my own will and prowess I will surmount my doom �C or fall. But falling or riding, Glaurung at least I will slay.' Nonetheless he was unquiet, and he sent out men of daring as scouts far afield. For indeed, though no word was said, he now ordered things as he would, as if he were lord of Brethil, and no man heeded Brandir. Spring came hopefully, and men sang at their work. But in that spring Niniel conceived, and she became pale and wan, and all her happiness was dimmed. And soon after there came strange tidings, from the men that had gone abroad beyond Teiglin, that there was a great burning far out in the woods of the plain towards Nargothrond, and men wondered what it might be. But before long there came more reports: that the fires drew ever northward, and that indeed Glaurung himself made them. For he had left Nargothrond, and was abroad again on some errand. Then the more foolish or more hopeful said: 'His army is destroyed, and now at last he sees wisdom, and is going back whence he came.' And others said: 'Let us hope that he will pass us by.' But Turambar had no such hope, and knew that Glaurung was coming to seek him. Therefore though he masked his mind because of Niniel, he pondered ever by day and by night what counsel he should take; and spring turned towards summer. A day came when two men returned to Ephel Brandir in terror, for they had seen the Great Worm himself. 'In truth, lord,' they said, 'he draws now near to Teiglin, and turns not aside. He lay in the midst of a great burning, and the trees smoked about him. The stench of him is scarce to be endured. And all the long leagues back to Nargothrond his foul swath lies, we deem, in a line that swerves not, but points straight to us. What is to be done?' 'Little,' said Turambar, 'but to that little I have already given thought. The tidings you bring give me hope rather than dread; for if indeed he goes straight, as you say, and does not swerve, then I have some counsel for hardy hearts.' The men wondered, for he said no more at that time; but they took heart from his steadfast bearing. Now the river Teiglin ran in this manner. It flowed down from Ered Wethrin swift as Narog, but at first between low shores, until after the Crossings, gathering power from other streams, it clove a way through the feet of the highlands upon which stood the Forest of Brethil. Thereafter it ran in deep ravines, whose great sides were like walls of rock, but pent at the bottom the waters flowed with great force and noise. And right in the path of Glaurung there lay now one of these gorges, by no means the deepest, but the narrowest, just north of the inflow of Celebros. Therefore Turambar sent out three hardy men to keep watch from the brink on the movements of the Dragon; but he himself would ride to the high fall of Nen Girith, where news could find him swiftly, and whence he himself could look far across the lands. But first he gathered the woodmen together in Ephel Brandir and spoke to them, saying: 'Men of Brethil, a deadly peril has come upon us, which only great hardihood shall turn aside. But in this matter numbers will avail little; we must use cunning, and hope for good fortune. If we went up against the Dragon with all our strength, as against an army of Orcs, we should but offer ourselves all to death, and so leave our wives and kin defenceless. Therefore I say that you should stay here, and prepare for flight. For if Glaurung comes, then you must abandon this place, and scatter far and wide; and so may some escape and live. For certainly, if he can, he will destroy it, and all that he espies; but afterwards he will not abide here. In Nargothrond lies all his treasure, and there are the deep halls in which he can lie safe, and grow.' Then the men were dismayed, and were utterly downcast, for they trusted in Turambar, and had looked for more hopeful words. But he said: 'Nay, that is the worst. And it shall not come to pass, if my counsel and fortune are good. For I do not believe that this Dragon is unconquerable, though he grows greater in strength and malice with the years. I know somewhat of him. His power is rather in the evil spirit that dwells within him than in the might of his body, great though that be. For hear now this tale that I was told by some that fought in the year of the Nirnaeth, when I and most that hear me were children. In that field the Dwarves withstood him and Azaghal of Belegost pricked him so deep that he fled back to Angband. But here is a thorn sharper and longer than the knife of Azaghal.' And Turambar swept Gurthang from its sheath and stabbed with it up above his head, and it seemed to those that looked on that a flame leapt from Turambar's hand many feet into the air. Then they gave a great cry: 'The Black Thorn of Brethil!' 'The Black Thorn of Brethil,' said Turambar: 'well may he fear it. For know this: it is the doom of this Dragon (and all his brood, it is said) that how great so ever be his armour of horn, harder than iron, below he must go with the belly of a snake. Therefore, Men of Brethil, I go now to seek the belly of Glaurung, by what means I may. Who will come with me? I need but a few with strong arms and stronger hearts.' Then Dorlas stood forth and said: 'I will go with you, lord: for I would ever go forward rather than wait for a foe.' But no others were so swift to the call, for the dread of Glaurung lay on them, and the tale of the scouts that had seen him had gone about and grown in the telling. Then Dorlas cried out: 'Hearken, Men of Brethil, it is now well seen that for the evil of our times the counsels of Brandir were vain. There is no escape by hiding. Will none of you take the place of the son of Handir, that the house of Haleth be not put to shame?' Thus Brandir, who sat indeed in the high-seat of the lord of the assembly, but unheeded, was scorned, and he was bitter in his heart; for Turambar did not rebuke Dorlas. But one Hunthor, Brandir's kinsman, arose and said: 'You do evilly, Dorlas, to speak thus to the shame of your lord, whose limbs by ill hazard cannot do as his heart would. Beware lest the contrary be seen in you at some turn! And how can it be said that his counsels were vain, when they were never taken? You, his liege, have ever set them at naught. I say to you that Glaurung comes now to us, as to Nargothrond before, because our deeds have betrayed us, as he feared. But since this woe is now come, with your leave, son of Handir, I will go on behalf of Haleth's house.' Then Turambar said: 'Three is enough! You twain will I take. But, lord, I do not scorn you. See! We must go in great haste, and our task will need strong limbs. I deem that your place is with your people. For you are wise, and are a healer; and it may be that there will be great need of wisdom and healing ere long.' But these words, though fair spoken, did but embitter Brandir the more, and he said to Hunthor: 'Go then, but not with my leave. For a shadow lies on this man, and it will lead you to evil.' Now Turambar was in haste to go; but when he came to Niniel to bid her farewell, she clung to him, weeping grievously. 'Go not forth, Turambar, I beg!' she said. 'Challenge not the shadow that you have fled from! Nay, nay, flee still, and take me with you, far away!' 'Niniel most dear,' he answered, 'we cannot flee further, you and I. We are hemmed in this land. And even should I go, deserting the people that befriended us, I could but take you forth into the houseless wild, to your death and the death of our child. A hundred leagues lie between us and any land that is yet beyond the reach of the Shadow. But take heart, Niniel. For I say to you: neither you nor I shall be slain by this Dragon, nor by any foes of the North.' Then Niniel ceased to weep and fell silent, but her kiss was cold as they parted. Then Turambar with Dorlas and Hunthor went away hotfoot to Nen Girith, and when they came there the sun was westering and shadows were long; and the last two of the scouts were there awaiting them. 'You come not too soon, lord,' said they. 'For the Dragon has come on, and already when we left he had reached the brink of the Teiglin, and glared across the water. He moves ever by night, and we may look then for some stroke before tomorrow's dawn.' Turambar looked out over the falls of Celebros and saw the sun going down to its setting, and black spires of smoke rising by the borders of the river. 'There is no time to lose,' he said; 'yet these tidings are good. For my fear was that he would seek about; and if he passed northward and came to the Crossings and so to the old road in the lowland, then hope would be dead. But now some fury of pride and malice drives him headlong.' But even as he spoke, he wondered, and mused in his mind: 'Or can it be that one so evil and fell shuns the Crossings, even as the Orcs? Haudh-en-Elleth! Does Finduilas lie still between me and my doom?' Then he turned to his companions and said: 'This task now lies before us. We must wait yet a little, for too soon in this case were as ill as too late. When dusk falls, we must creep down, with all stealth, to Teiglin. But beware! For the ears of Glaurung are as keen as his eyes, and they are deadly. If we reach the river unmarked, we must then climb down into the ravine, and cross the water, and so come in the path that he will take when he stirs.' 'But how can he come forward so?' said Dorlas. 'Lithe he may be, but he is a great Dragon, and how shall he climb down the one cliff and up the other, when part must again be climbing before the hinder part is yet descended? And if he can so, what will it avail us to be in the wild water below?' 'Maybe he can so,' answered Turambar, 'and indeed if he does, it will go ill with us. But it is my hope from what we learn of him, and from the place where he now lies, that his purpose is otherwise. He is come to the brink of Cabed-en-Aras, over which, as you tell, a deer once leaped from the huntsmen of Haleth. So great is he now that I think he will seek to cast himself across there. That is all our hope, and we may trust to it.' Dorlas' heart sank at these words; for he knew better than any all the land of Brethil, and Cabed-en-Aras was a grim place indeed. On the east side was a sheer cliff of some forty feet, bare but tree-grown at the crown; on the other side was a bank somewhat less sheer and less high, shrouded with hanging trees and bushes, but between them the water ran fiercely between rocks, and though a man bold and sure-footed might ford it by day, it was perilous to dare it at night. But this was the counsel of Turambar, and it was useless to gainsay him. They set out therefore at dusk, and they did not go straight towards the Dragon, but took first the path towards the Crossings; then, before they came so far, they turned southward by a narrow track and passed into the twilight of the woods above Teiglin. And as they drew near to Cabed-en-Aras, step by step, halting often to listen, the reek of burning came to them, and a stench that sickened them. But all was deadly still, and there was no stir of air. The first stars glimmered in the east before them, and faint spires of smoke rose straight and unwavering against the last light in the west. Now when Turambar was gone Niniel stood silent as a stone; but Brandir came to her and said: 'Niniel, fear not the worst until you must. But did I not counsel you to wait?' 'You did so,' she answered. 'Yet how would that profit me now? For love may abide and suffer unwedded.' 'That I know,' said Brandir. 'Yet wedding is not for nothing.' 'No,' said Niniel. 'For now I am two months gone with his child. But it does not seem to me that my fear of loss is the more heavy to bear. I understand you not.' 'Nor I myself,' said he. 'And yet I am afraid.' 'What a comforter you are!' she cried. 'But Brandir, friend: wedded or unwedded, mother or maid, my dread is beyond enduring. The Master of Doom is gone to challenge his doom far hence, and how shall I stay here and wait for the slow coming of tidings, good or ill? This night, it may be, he will meet with the Dragon, and how shall I stand or sit, or pass the dreadful hours?' 'I know not,' said he, 'but somehow the hours must pass, for you and for the wives of those that went with him.' 'Let them do as their hearts bid!' she cried. 'But for me, I shall go. The miles shall not lie between me and my lord's peril. I will go to meet the tidings!' Then Brandir's dread grew black at her words, and he cried: 'That you shall not do, if I may hinder it. For thus will you endanger all counsel. The miles that lie between may give time for escape, if ill befall.' 'If ill befall, I shall not wish to escape,' she said. 'And now your wisdom is vain, and you shall not hinder me.' And she stood forth before the people that were still gathered in the open place of the Ephel, and she cried: 'Men of Brethil! I will not wait here. If my lord fails, then all hope is false. Your land and woods shall be burned utterly, and all your houses laid in ashes, and none, none, shall escape. Therefore why tarry here? Now I go to meet the tidings and whatever doom may send. Let all those of like mind come with me!' Then many were willing to go with her: the wives of Dorlas and Hunthor because those whom they loved were gone with Turambar; others for pity of Niniel and desire to befriend her; and many more that were lured by the very rumour of the Dragon, in their hardihood or their folly (knowing little of evil) thinking to see strange and glorious deeds. For indeed so great in their minds had the Black Sword become that few could believe that even Glaurung would conquer him. Therefore they set forth soon in haste, a great company, towards a peril that they did not understand; and going with little rest they came wearily at last, just at nightfall, to Nen Girith but a little while after Turambar had departed. But night is a cold counsellor, and many were now amazed at their own rashness; and when they heard from the scouts that remained there how near Glaurung was come, and the desperate purpose of Turambar, their hearts were chilled, and they dared go no further. Some looked out towards Cabed-en-Aras with anxious eyes, but nothing could they see, and nothing hear save the cold voice of the falls. And Niniel sat apart, and a great shuddering seized her. When Niniel and her company had gone, Brandir said to those that remained: 'Behold how I am scorned, and all my counsel disdained! Choose you another to lead you: for here I renounce both lordship and people. Let Turambar be your lord in name, since already he has taken all my authority. Let none seek of me ever again either counsel or healing!' And he broke his staff. To himself he thought: 'Now nothing is left to me, save only my love of Niniel: therefore where she goes, in wisdom or folly, I must go. In this dark hour nothing can be foreseen; but it may well chance that even I could ward off some evil from her, if I were nigh.' He girt himself therefore with a short sword, as seldom before, and took his crutch, and went with what speed he might out of the gate of the Ephel, limping after the others down the long path to the west march of Brethil. CHAPTER XVII THE DEATH OF GLAURUNG At last, even as full night closed over the land, Turambar and his companions came to Cabed-en-Aras, and they were glad of the great noise of the water; for though it promised peril below, it covered all other sounds. Then Dorlas led them a little aside, southwards, and they climbed down by a cleft to the cliff-foot; but there his heart quailed, for many rocks and great stones lay in the river, and the water ran wild about them, grinding its teeth. 'This is a sure way to death,' said Dorlas. 'It is the only way, to death or to life,' said Turambar, 'and delay will not make it seem more hopeful. Therefore follow me!' And he went on before them, and by skill and hardihood, or by fate, he came across, and in the deep dark he turned to see who came after. A dark form stood beside him. 'Dorlas?' he said. 'No, it is I,' said Hunthor. 'Dorlas failed at the crossing, I think. For a man may love war, and yet dread many things. He sits shivering on the shore, I guess; and may shame take him for his words to my kinsman.' Now Turambar and Hunthor rested a little, but soon the night chilled them, for they were both drenched with water, and they began to seek a way along the stream northwards towards the lodgement of Glaurung. There the chasm grew darker and narrower, and as they felt their way forward they could see a flicker above them as of smouldering fire, and they heard the snarling of the Great Worm in his watchful sleep. Then they groped for a way up, to come nigh under the brink; for in that lay all their hope to come at their enemy beneath his guard. But so foul now was the reek that their heads were dizzy, and they slipped as they clambered, and clung to the tree-stems, and retched, forgetting in their misery all fear save the dread of falling into the teeth of Teiglin. Then Turambar said to Hunthor: 'We spend our waning strength to no avail. For till we be sure where the Dragon will pass, it is vain to climb.' 'But when we know,' said Hunthor, 'then there will be no time to seek a way up out of the chasm.' 'Truly,' said Turambar. 'But where all lies on chance, to chance we must trust.' They halted therefore and waited, and out of the dark ravine they watched a white star far above creep across the faint strip of sky; and then slowly Turambar sank into a dream, in which all his will was given to clinging, though a black tide sucked and gnawed at his limbs. Suddenly there was a great noise and the walls of the chasm quivered and echoed. Turambar roused himself, and said to Hunthor: 'He stirs. The hour is upon us. Strike deep, for two must strike now for three!' And with that Glaurung began his assault upon Brethil; and all passed much as Turambar had hoped. For now the Dragon crawled with slow weight to the edge of the cliff, and he did not turn aside, but made ready to spring over the chasm with his great forelegs and then draw his bulk after. Terror came with him; for he did not begin his passage right above, but a little to the northward, and the watchers from beneath could see the huge shadow of his head against the stars; and his jaws gaped, and he had seven tongues of fire. Then he sent forth a blast, so that all the ravine was filled with a red light, and black shadows flying among the rocks; but the trees before him withered and went up in smoke, and stones crashed down into the river. And thereupon he hurled himself forward, and grappled the further cliff with his mighty claws, and began to heave himself across. Now there was need to be bold and swift, for though Turambar and Hunthor had escaped the blast, since they were not right in Glaurung's path, they yet had to come at him, before he passed over, or all their hope failed. Heedless of peril therefore Turambar clambered along the cliff to come beneath him; but there so deadly was the heat and the stench that he tottered and would have fallen if Hunthor, following stoutly behind, had not seized his arm and steadied him. 'Great heart!' said Turambar. 'Happy was the choice that took you for a helper!' But even as he spoke, a great stone hurtled from above and smote Hunthor on the head, and he fell into the water, and so ended: not the least valiant of the House of Haleth. Then Turambar cried: 'Alas! It is ill to walk in my shadow! Why did I seek aid? For now you are alone, O Master of Doom, as you should have known it must be. Now conquer alone!' Then he summoned to him all his will, and all his hatred of the Dragon and his Master, and it seemed to him that suddenly he found a strength of heart and of body that he had not known before; and he climbed the cliff, from stone to stone, and root to root, until he seized at last a slender tree that grew a little beneath the lip of the chasm, and though its top was blasted it still held fast by its roots. And even as he steadied himself in a fork of its boughs, the midmost parts of the Dragon came above him, and swayed down with their weight almost upon his head, ere Glaurung could heave them up. Pale and wrinkled was their underside, and all dank with a grey slime, to which clung all manner of dropping filth; and it stank of death. Then Turambar drew the Black Sword of Beleg and stabbed upwards with all the might of his arm, and of his hate, and the deadly blade, long and greedy, went into the belly even to its hilts. Then Glaurung, feeling his death-pang, gave forth a scream, whereat all the woods were shaken, and the watchers at Nen Girith were aghast. Turambar reeled as from a blow, and slipped down, and his sword was torn from his grasp, and clave to the belly of the Dragon. For Glaurung in a great spasm bent up all his shuddering bulk and hurled it over the ravine, and there upon the further shore he writhed, screaming, lashing and coiling himself in his agony, until he had broken a great space all about him, and lay there at last in a smoke and a ruin, and was still. Now Turambar clung to the roots of the tree, stunned and well-nigh overcome. But he strove against himself and drove himself on, and half sliding and half climbing he came down to the river, and dared again the perilous crossing, crawling now on hands and feet, clinging, blinded with spray, until he came over at last, and climbed wearily up the cleft by which they had descended. Thus he came at length to the place of the dying Dragon, and he looked on his stricken enemy without pity, and was glad. There now Glaurung lay, with jaws agape; but all his fires were burned out, and his evil eyes were closed. He was stretched out in his length, and had rolled upon one side, and the hilts of Gurthang stood in his belly. Then the heart of Turambar rose high within him, and though the Dragon still breathed he would recover his sword, which if he prized it before was now worth to him all the treasure of Nargothrond. True proved the words spoken at its forging that nothing, great or small, should live that once it had bitten. Therefore going up to his foe he set foot upon his belly, and seizing the hilts of Gurthang he put forth his strength to withdraw it. And he cried in mockery of Glaurung's words at Nargothrond: 'Hail, Worm of Morgoth! Well met again! Die now and the darkness have you! Thus is Turin son of Hurin avenged.' Then he wrenched out the sword, and even as he did so a spout of black blood followed it, and fell upon his hand, and his flesh was burned by the venom, so that he cried aloud at the pain. Thereat Glaurung stirred and opened his baleful eyes and looked upon Turambar with such malice that it seemed to him that he was smitten by an arrow; and for that and for the anguish of his hand he fell in a swoon, and lay as one dead beside the Dragon, and his sword was beneath him. Now the screams of Glaurung came to the people at Nen Girith, and they were filled with terror; and when the watchers beheld from afar the great breaking and burning that the Dragon made in his throes, they believed that he was trampling and destroying those that had assailed him. Then indeed they wished the miles longer that lay between them; but they dared not leave the high place where they were gathered, for they remembered the words of Turambar that, if Glaurung conquered, he would go first to Ephel Brandir. Therefore they watched in fear for any sign of his movement, but none were so hardy as to go down and seek for tidings in the place of the battle. And Niniel sat, and did not move, save that she shuddered and could not still her limbs; for when she heard the voice of Glaurung her heart died within her, and she felt her darkness creeping upon her again. Thus Brandir found her. For he came at last to the bridge over Celebros, slow and weary; all the long way alone he had limped on his crutch, and it was five leagues at the least from his home. Fear for Niniel had driven him on, and now the tidings that he learned were no worse than he had dreaded. 'The Dragon has crossed the river,' men told him, 'and the Black Sword is surely dead, and those that went with him.' Then Brandir stood by Niniel, and guessed her misery, and he yearned to her; but he thought nonetheless: 'The Black Sword is dead, and Niniel lives.' And he shuddered, for suddenly it seemed cold by the waters of Nen Girith; and he cast his cloak about Niniel. But he found no words to say; and she did not speak. Time passed, and still Brandir stood silent beside her, peering into the night and listening; but he could see nothing, and could hear no sound but the falling of the waters of Nen Girith, and he thought: 'Now surely Glaurung has gone and has passed into Brethil.' But he pitied his people no more, fools that had flouted his counsel, and had scorned him. 'Let the Dragon go to Amon Obel, and there will be time then to escape, and to lead Niniel away.' Whither, he scarce knew, for he had never journeyed beyond Brethil. At last he bent down and touched Niniel on the arm, and said to her: 'Time passes, Niniel! Come! It is time to go. If you will let me, I will lead you.' Then silently she arose, and took his hand, and they passed over the bridge and went down the path to the Crossings of Teiglin. But those that saw them moving as shadows in the dark knew not who they were, and cared not. And when they had gone some little way through the silent trees, the moon rose beyond Amon Obel, and the glades of the forest were filled with a grey light. Then Niniel halted and said to Brandir: 'Is this the way?'