#'king tut dies young' ok.

[daisies-on-a-cup]

"and when i die i want her lying by my side in my grave" very pharaoh of you mr huron

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (9) || atz

You’re not dead.

That’s the only thought that drifts in your mind as you lie face up on the forecastle deck, eagle spread like a dead starfish. You watch the sun as it rises over the horizon absentmindedly, even as activity rages beneath you on the main deck.

The gun crews are busy cleaning out the cannons, preparing them for another battle as fast as possible. You don’t see Seonghwa, but you know he’s below decks, leading a team of pirates in checking up on the shot plugs that they used during battle to stop water from gushing in when the ship was hit by cannon fire. You would have been helping San treat the wounded, but one look at your blank, white face and he instructed you to calm down on the forecastle deck instead.

So that’s what you’re doing.

You watch white puffs of clouds drifting past in the clear blue sky. It’s so calm, so peaceful, you find it difficult to believe that you had just been in a sea battle the day before. Only the slight acrid smell of gunpowder that lingers in the air and the occasional holes in the ground from cannon fire reminds you that yesterday was nothing but a dream.

You could have died yesterday.

You’ve just come into this world, with no memories of your previous self, barely at the beginning of the road to recovering your past, so many questions still unanswered, and it could have all ended for you in that one battle.

The erratic beating of your heart pulls you out of your dazed panic.

You try to suck in deep breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you grip the necklace under your shirt tightly. The cuts on your body from the splinters sting and you’re aching from the bruises, but you know other pirates had it far worse.

Then you remember what you did to Jongho’s arm and you wince.

“He’s going to kill me.” You groan, burying your face in your hands. Even after the battle had been won, the young battlemaster had given you a dark glare before storming off to clear the decks of the remaining soldiers.

“Who’s going to kill you?”

You jerk up in shock, spinning around only to see a dark shape dangling upside down from the foremast’s rigging like some sort of giant spider, scaring the living daylights out of you. You yelp in terror and jump back, your foot slipping straight into one of the holes caused by the enemy cannons.

“Ow!” A howl of pain leaves your lips as the sharp edges leave scratches on your calf.

“Woah, careful there!” The dark shape drops from the rigging and hurries over to help you out from your mess. It's Yunho, you realise, covered from head to toe in soot and to your horror, dried blood.

“Yunho-hyung, you need to get to Master San right away! You're going to bleed out-”

He laughs easily, waving your concern away. “No worries! It's not my blood! You should watch out for the holes in the deck till Seonghwa-hyung repairs them.”

You nod, eyes darkening slightly as they rake over the state of the ship. “The Treasure took quite a beating, didn’t she?”

The tall man eyes you curiously as he coils up the rope he was using earlier. “Maybe it’s because you’re new, but these kind of things are pretty common, actually. No worries, Hongjoong-hyung said we’re getting to Tortuga in little less than an hour. We’ll be docking there to finish repairs and replenish stocks.”

At that, you purse your lips. You’re going to reach Tortuga soon, the second time you’re stepping on land after having been on the sea for most of your life since your awakening. The last time didn’t exactly go well for you. “Won’t the Royal Navy be there?”

Yunho shakes his head as he plops next to you, grabbing a rag from his belt and wiping most of the dirt and grime from his face. “Aish, I really want a bath. No, Tortuga is a pirate stronghold, actually. The Royal Navy has little to no power there, so we should be safe… If we pay the town enough money, that is.”

You snort at his last sentence as you lie back on the deck again. The sun is turning the entire sky a beautiful shade of pink-orange, and you turn to see Yunho’s face bathed in the same lovely colour.

He grins at you. “So, who’s going to kill you?”

At that, you shrink into yourself, a little sheepish. You thought you’d distracted him, but it evidently hadn’t worked. “Ah… Well, I was supposed to get to the sickbay during the fight yesterday but I got thrown to the midship area… and Jongho-hyung rescued me.”

Yunho nods proudly, a wide grin curving on his lips as he takes a seat beside you. “Of course he did. He’s a great fighter and he has strong protective instincts. You’re probably safer with him than in the sickbay.”

You wince. “Yeah… But during the battle, I accidentally misfired the musket and killed a soldier fighting with Jongho-hyung-”

The lookout’s eyes go wide with surprise. “So you saved Jongho? That’s amazing!”

“No no no-” You try to protest, but then someone coughs politely behind the two of you.

Both you and Yunho sit up to look at your visitor, only to see the ship’s resident healer standing there.

“Master!” You greet him cheerfully and he nods, studying you carefully for a second.

“Don’t you have work to get to, Yunho-ah?” San says over his shoulder as he checks your complexion and your pulse point for any erratic beating. The lookout pouts adorably, but can’t keep the grin off his face for long.

“Killjoy.” He laughs, before turning back to the foremast. “Catch you later, stowaway.”

San snorts as he watches Yunho go, scaling the rigging easily like a spider does its web. “And not a kind word to me.” Then he turns to you, expression blank as usual but you can read the care in his eyes. “You seem better now, apprentice. I want you to come with me to check an injury for a moment.”

“Ok.” You agree immediately, trailing after him to the sickbay. After the fight yesterday, you’ve realised that you need to acquire as many useful skills as you possibly can so you won’t be a burden to your ship mates during battles. And honestly, healing seems to be the most useful thing you could do for now.

San’s nimble fingers open the latch with ease and the two of you descend to the sickbay. Then you see who it is sitting at the table and you want to run for your life.

It’s Jongho.

You do a complete turn and make to escape before the young battlemaster can notice you, but San grabs you by the arm and hauls you into the room after him. Your master sits himself at the table, and you hover awkwardly next to him, unsure where to look at. Jongho’s eyes immediately pin you to the ground where you stand.

“I want him to learn how to treat a gunshot wound, that’s why he’s here with me.” San explains to Jongho as he pulls out several clean rags, a pair of bronze tweezers and a roll of bandage. The young battlemaster sighs, clearly unwilling, but he nods anyway.

“Whatever you say, hyung.”

San sets to pulling out a spool of thread and a thin needle, from his satchel. “Apprentice, fetch me the lamp and get me the bottle of rum from the shelf.”

You give your master a concerned look as you move towards the shelf hesitantly. “Master, this really isn’t the time to be drinking-”

“I’m using it to clean the wound, idiot. I’m out of marigold. And I abhor the taste of alcohol.” San tuts as he unwraps a sloppily done bandage around Jongho’s upper arm. The wound is a laceration from your stray musket bullet, and from what you can see, it’s still bleeding even though it’s been a few hours since the injury. “Jongho-ah, you know you shouldn’t be helping with the clearing up if you’re injured.”

“They needed someone to move the wreckage from the mizzenmast.” The maknae grunts in way of explanation. You swallow the guilt building up in your throat and move to get the lantern hanging from the low ceiling.

“How did you get this, though?” San continues, tossing the bloodied bandage to the ground. “You usually escape most fights unscathed, or most of your wounds are from close range combat. It’s rare to see you with a musket wound.”

You freeze. You can literally feel Jongho eyeballing the back of your head. But when he finally answers, he simply mutters, “Got sloppy for a moment.”

San coughs. Your master obviously doesn’t believe him but refrains from pressing him, taking the bottle of rum from you and wiping his arms down with them.

“So, apprentice, I’m cleaning my hands with alcohol. It helps to get rid of harmful organisms living on the surface of our bodies.” San works quickly, eyebrows furrowing into concentration as he slides into his ‘healing zone’, where nothing matters to him except the patient, him and occasionally maybe you. “Before you start treating a wound, make sure you clean everything you’re using thoroughly or the wound might get infected.”

“Yes, Master.” You move closer to watch him at his craft. San’s motions are practiced and methodical, as if he’s done it for years, over and over again. When he’s satisfied that everything is spotless, he moves to Jongho’s arm.

“Cloth.” He speaks, and you pass him the clean rags on the table. San soaks them in rum with a pair of tweezers while you cough at the powerful smell of alcohol. You still don’t understand how the rest of your shipmates can just down bottles of it without dying from alcohol poisoning.

Your master ignores you and leans forward, gently dabbing at Jongho’s wound. Apart from a flinch and a muttered curse, the younger battlemaster doesn’t seem to be in much discomfort, even as blood continues to stain the rags red.

“Help me hold down a cloth on his arm.” San instructs firmly as he disposes the last of the dirty rags in a basket. You stare at your master in horror.

“What?”

“You’re not deaf, apprentice. Put pressure on the wound and help me slow the bleeding while I heat the needle.” The healer shoves a cloth into your hands and moves to the lamp, leaving you in awkward silence with Jongho.

You gulp and move towards the maknae, trying not to touch him, but it’s impossible. Laying the cloth over his wound, you press down on it lightly, not wanting to hurt him and trying desperately to ignore his face right next to yours.

“That’s not going to do anything.” Jongho snorts in your ear and you squeak, almost dropping the rag. His large hand covers yours and presses down on it firmly, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

You freeze completely, but the frantic pounds of your heart are otherwise.

“Move to the side, apprentice. I want you to watch this carefully.” San returns with a sterilized and threaded needle, seating himself before Jongho and thankfully sparing you the close contact with the battlemaster. “I’m going to start suturing the wound.”

You breathe in and out quickly, trying to calm your racing heart as you move to make space for your master. Your hand slips from the maknae’s grasp. The slim man crouches in front of Jongho, eyes narrowed in intense focus. With quick, deft movements, he holds the needle with the tweezers and pulls the needle through Jongho’s skin, leaving a row of neat stitches in its wake.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” The words slip out of your mouth worriedly as you glance at Jongho. The battlemaster merely turns away.

San replies in his place as he continues stitching the wound. “I usually put a painkiller made of lavender on the area before I start, but Jongho’s a tough boy, so it’s no problem for him.”

“I am a man. I’m nineteen already.” Jongho grunts in exasperation, but the healer ignores him.

“You’re going to be nineteen.” San corrects him with a grin, finishing of the stitches and snipping the thread with a pair of scissors. The maknae gives him an irritated glare.

“I hate you, hyung.” He grumbles. But before San can reply with another wiseass comment, the sound of Mingi’s voice comes echoing into the sickbay.

“We’ve arrived at Tortuga!”

[thefloatingstone]

Akhenaton “the Alien hybrid” pharaoh according to Ancient Alien theorists

The argument is “WhY dOesS AkHenAtOn lOok DiffreN to OhEr PhaRaOhs? ALIEMS????”

Here’s the answer and its a wild fucking ride, lemme tell you.

Akhenaton was a fucking revolutionary Pharaoh and almost single handedly tried to rewrite ALL of ancient Egypt’s religion during his rule. He;

1: Moved Egypt’s Capital to a new city further down the Nile called Akhenaton after himself which is entirely based on worshiping the singular god, Aten. 2: Established a new religion that saw a singular god called “Aten” rather than an entire pantheon and esentially said “Yeah all those other gods we’ve been worshiping for literally thousands of years? Yeah just throw those out. They’re not canon now” 3: Re-worked how ancient Egyptian art was drawn (and this is the big one) where he was essentially bored with the “Eyptian style” of art and instead urged all HIS depictions in art capture his appearance more accurately to real life. His frescos also, unlike any other pharoah, show him in domestic scenes, spending time with his wife and children in very mundane, every day situations

(an image of Akhenaton with his wife playing with their young children. Akhenaton is shown kissing one of his daughters in fatherly affection)

Akhenaton was not traditionally handsome (probably thanks to hundreds of years of inbreeding thanks to how Ancient Egyptian royalty worked) and did not want to be depicted in a way that wasn’t true to himself. So his image is always shown as gangly with long limbs, slightly over-weight with a belly, elongated features and pronounced lips.

So..... this kind of really REALLY fucking pissed off literally every high ranking priest in all of Egypt because they’re now, to put it plainly, out of a job. Akhenaton’s moving of the capital also severely crippled the religious structure, moving political power away from where most of the greatest temples were, and since the Pharoahs are meant to be living gods on Earth, what does it say when the gods of Earth don’t live in the same city any more?

Akhenaton dies from unknown reasons but most likely the same genetic disease that gave him his appearance (some have obviously suggested assassination but there is no proof of this that’s been found and it remains up for debate) and the priests and historians go about striking his name from history and destroying and defacing artwork depicting him and his new religion.

(whoops)

He is then excluded from the king lists and is referred by later Dynasties as “The Enemy” or “That Criminal” in archival records. When Akhenaton’s mummy was located his sarcophagus and funerary mask were both deliberately destroyed.

You may have heard of his wife, btw. Nefertiti.

You ever wonder why she’s called the most beauiful woman in history? It’s probably because she was one of the few Pharaoh women accurate sculpted to relfect what she really looked like, versus a stock style.

also fun fact, this most famous image of her is an incomplete wooden bust found in the ruins of a sculptors’ workshop, presumeably because she was killed before he could finish it and he was like “aw shit... NOW what do I do with this?”

Now the problem is, the priests can’t just appoint a brand new Pharaoh, because pharoahs are descended from the gods themselves and their blood can’t be mixed with that of mere mortals (which is why Egyptian pharaohs marry their mothers and sisters. To keep their godly blood “pure”). So, the hastily appoint Akhenaton’s son who is 9 years old as the new pharaoh (and of course the child will have advisors to help him rule until he is an adult... of course.)

Problem. Akhenaton’s son’s name is Tutankhaten. “Living Image of Aten” and that just won’t do. So 2 years into his reign (aged 11) his name is changed to  Tutankhamun, “Living image of Amun”after the sun god Amun or Amun-Ra. The city of Akhenaton is abandoned and falls into ruin.

All is well and Tutankhamun’s kingdom is ruled by his advisors... until he’s about 18 or 19. Whoops! Now he’s an adult and probably wants to start actually doing his job as the ruler of Egypt.

Oh wait no nevermind. he conveniently died. We’re not sure how exactly because, oh... uhm... it seems there are no surviving records of King Tut’s final days! Whoops!

Ok that’s an over simplification. In truth, thanks to many... many... many.... MANY scans and autopsies, we now now Tut broke his knee recently before he died, had a very aggressive strain of malaria which led to a bone disease and also, due to being inbred as FUCK because of how Pharaohs work, also suffered from mild kyphoscoliosis (a curved spine), pes planus (flat feet), hypophalangism of the right foot (missing bone), bone necrosis of the second and third metatarsal bones of the left foot, and a club foot that was so bad he could not stand unless aided by walking sticks. However the exact cause of death is still unknown but it seems direct assassination is unlikely.

But anyway.

So King Tut dies as does the two stillborn children of his and Akhenaton’s family line reaches an end. It did not end well for Tut’s wife either as she disappears from history after a war which left Egypt defeated and her new husband, Ay the new Pharaoh, with a sudden second wife. After Ay’s death a new Pharaoh comes into power by usurping the throne and has a complete and utter “Stricken from history” campaign against all of Tutankhamun’s family, including father, mother, daughters, wife, half sisters, and all other family members.

King Tut is buried in an unusually small tomb most likely due to his sudden death, that became forgotten and buried.

Fast forward 3,245 years to 1915 and his tomb is discovered by Archaeologists. The tomb is one of the most intact and untouched tombs EVER discovered in the history of all Agyptian Pharoahs, and almost single-handedly caused an absolute obsession with Ancient Egyptian culture and kickstarted what we now call “Egyptology”. A fascination which has never truly died even in modern times today.

.....

Anyway Akhenaton wasn’t an alien.

[djts-arts]

hiya again, haven't exploded just yet! you know rowan's monster au for the queens? i was wondering what monster arthur would be! and between you and me, i headcanon henry as a disgusting pile of black goop that everyone hates lol -⭐️

You're gonna make a BIG BANG with your reveal star.

Ok I've been actually been thinking about what monster Arthur would be. It's either a mummy (due to royal status and that king tut died young. Lol) or a vampire. Not just those sexy ones nope not those. The one's that look like a fierce creature, with claws and and large fangs. Or better yet a fusion of both. So yeah that's what I've been thinking. For awhile but haven't really picked.

Also I just got my haircut. SKL

[bowsie22]

Gonjo Collection 1

Summary: 5 pickup lines that failed on Jo Yeong and one that worked

At twenty years old, Lee Gon finally realised that he was in love with Jo Yeong. And had been for a long time. There was only one thing to do. Flirt with the younger man until he cracked and agreed to go out with the King.

1.

“Can you take to the doctor?”

“What?! Oh my God, are you ok, what happened?”

“Because I just broke my leg falling for you.”

He even did finger guns! Which Jo Yeong was not impressed by. At least that’s what Lee Gon assumed considering how fast the other man dropped him.

Ok, maybe asking to his guard to bring him to a doctor without any warning wasn’t the smartest decision. At least he was in Jo Yeong’s arms for a few seconds. That was a good sign, right?

2.

The next one he thought, was inspired.

“I must be in a museum, because you truly are a work of art.”

Jo Yeong stared at him, hands frozen on his collar. Lee Gon suddenly became very aware that this man could kill him with the fingers tying his tie.

“You’re here to open a new wing at this museum, not stare at me. Now go, they’re waiting on you.”

Lee Gon wasn’t too proud to say that he ran.

3.

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?”

Jo Yeong sighed, looking up from the book he was attempting to read. Lee Gon smirked at him, leaning on the desk.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Should I walk by again?”

If anyone asked, Lee Gon wasn’t pouting as Jo Yeong walked out the door. He was staring at the other man’s ass though,

4.

“I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it.”

“You’re the best mathematician in the country, what are you talking about?”

Lee Gon fell back onto the couch, face turning red. It wasn’t fair that Jo Yeong could affect him so easily with so few words.

“Gon, Gon? You’ve died.”

Game Over flashed on the screen.

“Right, restart?”

Jo Yeong nodded, eyes still suspicious.

“Yeah, restart.”

5.

Ok, he could admit that this wasn’t his finest moment.

“Didn’t I see you on the cover of Vogue?”

Jo Yeong flushed. He had always hated being in the public eye.

“You have it right in front of you, you idiot.”

“I do, you look damn good.”

Jo Yeong stuttered, his blush standing out starkly on his pale skin.

“I mean, if this guard thing doesn’t work out, you could always be a model.”

“Why wouldn’t the guard thing work out?”

Stumbling for an excuse, Lee Gon could only watch, as once again, Jo Yeong walked away from him. In the corner of the room, Lady Noh tutted at the young man.

“What’s that noise?”

“You’re going about this all wrong. That boy won’t react to flirting. You need to be direct with him, tell him straight.”

Be direct. Ok, Lee Gon could do that.

+1

“I know I’ve been weird. And I’m sorry.”

They were in Jo Yeong’s favourite part of the gardens. It was a quiet gazebo, surrounded by cherry blossoms and magnolias and covered. Jo Yeong could be found here in all seasons, reading, drawing, enjoying the quiet and the solitude. Sometimes Lee Gon forgot that Jo Yeong preferred his own company over that of others.

“Ok? Is this your explanation?”

Lee Gon sat on the floor across from his friend, reaching out to grab the other’s hands. He had always thought it weird how he hated everyone touching him except the man in front of him.

“Young, I’m in love with you. And all those stupid lines were because, well-“

“You’re an idiot?”

“Yes! Exactly.”

They laughed, Jo Young moving closer to his friend.

“And I know that you hate being in the public eye, but I swear to you that I will do whatever I can to keep you safe and protected if you want to give this a try.”

“I love you too. And you’re right. I hate all the publicity that would come from being with you. But I think having you by my side might make it manageable.”

He leaned in, Gon Lee meeting him for their first kiss. Maybe Gon Lee was a romantic because he swore that the earth shook and there were fireworks. Judging from the flush and pleased smile on Jo Young’s face, he’d felt the same. Pulling the smaller man to his side, Lee Gon asked about the drawing he was working on.

“Oh!”

Looking up from his sketch pad, Jo Young laughed at the scared look on Lee Gon’s face.

“I’m going to owe Lady Noh so much after this.”

[malumsmermaid]

Kids in Love (Prince!Calum)

This got way out of hand. Was originally just going to be a platonic thing of friends reconnecting, but not anymore oops.

Warnings: smut (told you it got way out of hand)

Word Count: 6,609

Prince Calum let out an excited whoop as he and Michael raced across the castle grounds, their horses at full gallop with their two hunting dogs running after them. They flew towards the gate and up the path into the woods. Once they got off of the path they slowed their horses to a walk. “Finally fuckin’ free!” Calum sighed, gently patting his horse’s neck.

Michael laughed, shifting in his saddle to look at the prince. He was happy to only be in riding clothes, no chain mail for a small hunting trip in the woods just a few hundred feet outside the castle. Plus, neither of them were actually hunting, Calum just wanted an excuse to get out of the castle without a huge entourage. He understood his best friend’s sentiment towards being in the woods. It had been a long morning as he followed the young man through the castle, checking up on the parts of the festival he was responsible for, as well as security protocol for whenever they were to make an appearance.

Calum’s eyes were focused on the two dogs now trotting ahead of the horses, their noses trained to the ground. A gentle breeze played with the prince’s hair, and he shifted his slack grip on the reins to one hand, holding the other out to enjoy the gentle wind blowing by, eyes closed as the fresh air washed over him, having complete trust in the animal beneath him. Calum opened his eyes when the horse paused, his dog having stopped directly in front of them, nose in the wind and ears perked. The hound suddenly tore off and Calum looked over at Michael. He simply nodded as Calum tutted to the horse. “Meet you at the gate by dusk.” the blonde man said, calling to his dog and continuing further into the woods.

Calum knew that he was going to spend some time by the river before making his way closer to the gate so they could return to the castle together. He urged his horse into a trot and helped her maneuver through the forest as they looked for the dog. He figured he’d picked up the scent of a rabbit or fox and listened for the dog’s barks. He became worried when he didn’t hear any sort of incessant baying that would indicate that the other animal had been cornered. The hound wasn’t his personal dog, no, Duke was safe back in the castle, probably napping on Calum’s plush bed, but he couldn’t help but worry that this dog could’ve gotten hurt.

He felt his anxious heart slow when they came into a clearing in the woods, the riverbank a few hundred feet away, and he saw the dog laying on his back, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he was pet by a young girl. Calum easily slid from the horse’s back, placing the reins over the nearest fence post. “Stay right here Phantom.” He whispered, hand gently rubbing her muzzle before walking over to where the child was playing with his hound.

The dog rolled over when Calum was just a couple steps away from the pair of friends, shaking some grass from his fur. Calum laughed softly, crouching down and stretching his hands out to the dog. “Gave me a good scare Copper. Didn’t hear you barking at anything and thought you got hurt. Glad to see you were having a good time.” The prince’s tone was affectionate and he gently scratched behind the dog’s ears, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at Copper.

Calum slowly sat down in the grass before turning his eyes to the little kid, who had picked up a small stick from the grass. She looked down at the tall man sitting in the grass, quietly fidgeting with the piece of wood. Copper’s eyes were on the stick in her hand, tail wagging before letting out a single bark. She smiled quickly, throwing the stick as well as she could at her age, no more than seven. “My name’s Ella,” she stated, holding her now empty hand out to the prince. He smiled as he shook it, clearly she had no idea who she was talking to. “Copper is my favorite doggy to play with in the doggy pen when my sister lets me go with her to the castle.”

Calum chuckled at her matter of fact tone, his eyes sparkling as he looked at the little girl. “That’s how I felt about Copper’s great grandpa. Took him home with me when he was just a puppy. My mum freaked out when she saw him when she came to put me to bed that night.”

Ella’s eyes widened, staring at the prince in shock, “How’d you get him away from the castle? What did the king do?”

Calum chewed his lip, thinking of how to respond to her question when another girl came out from beyond the fence he’d tied his horse to. “Ella!” she called, “Mum says if you want to wear that dress to the festival tomorrow you best not be getting it dirty!”

“M’not gonna get it dirty.” Ella retorted, “was playing with Copper but I’ve got a new friend now too!”

“What do you mean you’re playing with Copper, Copper is at the castle, you know you won’t see him again until midwe—“ The approaching girl froze and Calum turned his attention to her, watching her as she took in the emblem embroidered into the saddle blanket on the horse tied to her fence. Then her gaze fell on the golden skinned man lounging in the grass. He sighed slowly as she ran over, gently grabbing her sister by the shoulders before turning back to Calum. She dipped into a curtsie, head bowed as she said, “I’m so sorry Your Grace. She's been told she’s not supposed to play with or distract the dogs when they’re in the woods.” “Didn’t distract Copper Lizzie! He came to me!” Ella protested, looking up at her sister.

Calum caught the discreet motion of Lizzie gently nudging the back of Ella’s leg with her foot as she leaned down to hiss at the younger girl, “Annabella, not in front of the prince. Do you know how much trouble we could get in.”

Ella’s eyes went wide and her gaze turned back to Calum. “You’re the prince?” She exclaimed, gaping as she waited for his response. Calum simply nodded, whistling to have Copper return from where he had laid down, chewing on the stick. Ella stared a little longer after he had confirmed that fact before turning to her sister, “Does this mean I don’t get to play with the doggies this week?”

Her voice was so sad and Calum’s heart about broke as he looked at the tiny blonde girl. His eyes drifted to her older sister. She looked nothing like the young girl standing between them, her hair a dark brown and curly, while her sister’s was straight, though tangled.

Copper had rested his head in his lap, eyes on him when Calum got an idea to soothe Ella. He beckoned for the girl with his finger, eyes locking with Lizzie’s. She gently turned her sister around, barely breaking eye contact with the prince. “Ella, you asked me something before your sister came over, didn’t you sweetie?” he asked, smiling as she nodded. He took her hand, pulling the child to sit in his lap where she could pet Copper. “Mum and dad definitely freaked out a little that I had brought one of the hounds inside the castle, even if it was just a puppy. But my dad told me if I really wanted the dog, I’d have to learn how to train him. So I did. I’ve trained a bunch of other dogs since then, even weaned Phantom over there and helped her get used to having a saddle and bridle on, taught her how to listen to her rider.”

He glanced towards Lizzie, who had a fond look on her face as she watched him. Ella was smiling at Calum, shy now that his identity had been revealed to her. He gently squeezed her hand, still in his, and said, “Since Copper clearly likes you a lot, I’m gonna give you the same chance my dad gave me. One of our dogs is gonna have puppies soon, once they’re old enough, would you like to help me train them? I’ll teach you everything I know whenever I have the time.”

She gasped, staring up at the prince with an open mouth. He laughed softly, gently combing her hair back out of her face. “Really?!” she squealed, staring.

Calum nodded in affirmation, “Copper will be there too, he’s always been a good teacher to the pups. I’m hoping he’ll be even better for his own pups.” Copper sighed, tail flopping on the ground, looking for attention from either of the people he was sitting with. Calum smiled, patting the dog’s shoulder before adding, “Why don’t you and Copper go play, I’ll talk to your sister about it more, ok?”

Just like that Ella was off, running around the clearing, Copper bounding after her. Calum patted the spot on the ground next to him, smiling at Lizzie. She carefully sat down, gathering her skirt so it wouldn’t get too dirty as she sat. “I don’t know how to thank you, your highness” she started, but Calum waved her off.

“None of that Lizzie. We’ll just call it a favor for an old friend, huh?”

Now it was Lizzie’s turn to stare at the prince. “What, you thought I forgot you just because it’s been a while since we last saw each other?” Lizzie turned red, glancing over her shoulder at his horse. Calum followed her gaze, smiling at the horse. “I don’t have to be anywhere for a while, is it ok if we untie her, take her tack off?”

Lizzie nodded, smiling at him and they both got up. He led the way towards the dappled grey mare, gently holding his hand out to her. Phantom turned toward him and he gently gave her neck a pat, reaching up to remove the bridle and halter. They worked together to get the saddle and blanket off of her back. They hung everything on the fence and Calum gave his horse another gentle pat before walking back to where he had been sitting originally. Calum leaned back, laying in the grass and stared up at the clouds for a few minutes before asking, “So, how’ve you been? How’re your mum and dad?”

Lizzie hummed, looking down towards the prince. “We’re doing alright. Mum still works in the garden, dad died in the war back when we were 12 though. Mum asked your dad if I could work in the castle a year later, he told her I was too young, mum was too proud to tell him we really needed the money after losing dad. After that I started working for Ol’ Miss Harvey, doing little things for her around the house and farm, then she died a couple years back and now I work in the castle stables, her highness brings me in sometimes to fold things or help with her fittings and just tells me all about your little schoolyard crush on me.”

She smiled when she finished, laying back in the grass as well and looking at Calum. He blushed at the last sentence, chewing his lip before mumbling, “Mum loves to embarrass me. Guess it’s what mums do though, regardless of their status.”

Lizzie laughed, nodding a little as she did and he hummed. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad though. I never knew.”

Lizzie shook her head, “We were kids, of course you didn’t know. I just stopped coming to school, lots of girls around our age at the time did that. We’re happy now, mum remarried, had Ella, life goes on.”

Calum nodded and they both turned their attention to the clouds. Occasionally one of them would talk, reminiscing on their school days. After one story about Ashton, Luke and Michael, Lizzie turned to look at him, “Speaking of those three, shouldn’t one of them have come hunting with you?” Calum laughed, nodding. His three best friends from school were legacies of some of his father’s guards and they were now part of his guard. “Yeah, Michael is probably swimming somewhere upstream. Used to take Ashton on my fake hunting trips, but he’d go into town when we decided to split up, and his horse kind of got notorious for being tied up outside some poor girl’s house. The gossip got to my dad and now I switch between Michael and Luke so he doesn’t get too suspicious.” Lizzie laughed at that, nodding and Calum smiled, “Speaking of which, I should probably make it look like I at least tried to catch something.”

She hummed, watching as Calum got to his feet, watching as he jogged over to where Ella was playing with Copper. The prince rolled around, playing with the pup while Ella giggled, clapping and jumping while Calum riled the dog up. He rose to his feet, running around with the dog and Lizzie cringed at the dirt she could make out on his shirt. It may have been a riding shirt, which he would be allowed to get dirty, but she figured it still cost more than her entire wardrobe, and that was before factoring in his breeches, boots and the embroidery of his initials and the royal crest that adorned the lapels of his shirt. She heard the two calling her name and slowly got up, Ella already running over. She let the little girl take her hand, following behind her as she excitedly told her that they were gonna play in the river. She noticed that her sister had already taken off her shoes and smiled, toeing her own off once the little one finally let go of her hand and ran for the water. She kept an eye on her, barely getting more than her ankles wet while she waited for Calum. The prince had seated himself on a tree stump to take off his riding boots and stockings and was currently rolling his pants legs up.

Once he was ready he ran towards the water. He scooped up Ella, spinning around before gently setting her back in the water. Copper came running in to join them, carrying a large stick with him. Calum grinned as the hound dropped the stick into the water in front of him. He reached down, picking it up before the current carried it away and threw it out into the middle of the river. They all watched as Copper bounded through the water before beginning to paddle his way to the stick. Ella began clapping and jumping excitedly when the dog had caught up to the stick, taking it in his mouth and making to loop back to them. They continued to play fetch until Copper left the water, shaking the droplets away from his fur before going to curl up beneath the tree, closing his eyes to take a nap.

Lizzie continued to watch from her spot at the edge of the water as Calum and Ella played. Calum would pick Ella up and spin her around before setting her back in the water, letting her soar through the air while still holding her arms. Lizzie smiled, enjoying how good he was with the small child and allowed for a moment to entertain the thought of Calum with his own children, more specifically their children. She quickly shook the thought from her head, remembering their difference in status, even though she had been his friend when they were both kids, she doubted it would be ok now that they were both adults.

But now he was splashing around in the water, in a battle with Ella, something that would’ve definitely been something he was told not to do years ago, it being an unprincely activity. She smiled a little as she watched them, both giggling and squealing as they were hit by the water.

Then there came the sound of trumpets coming from the direction of the castle. Calum froze, straightening up and looking that way, focused even as he got hit with a face full of water. He quickly scooped up Ella, carrying her out of the river and Lizzie stared as he passed by her, carefully setting Ella down at the shore. Ella stared after the prince as the trumpets continued to blast. He was fixing his pants back to their usual length, pulling his stockings and boots over his wet feet. He jogged back over when he was ready, crouching down and letting his arms envelope Ella. “I’m so sorry sweetie, I have to go back to the castle. We have guests coming and they weren’t supposed to get here until sunset, so I guess they’re early. But that means you have more time for your pretty dress to dry off before the festival tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye out for you. And I’ll make sure to tell your sister when the puppies are ready for training so she can bring you with her.”

Ella nodded against the prince’s chest and he smiled, running a large hand through her hair before letting her pull away. He stood and turned to Lizzie, sighing. “Can you help me get the tack back on my horse?” She nodded quickly, walking alongside him as they went to where they’d left Phantom.

She had her blanket and saddle in place while Calum was still buckling the bridle around the horse’s face, so she ducked down to cinch the girth, one hand resting on the horse’s shoulder so she wouldn’t spook. As she finished securing the saddle she felt Calum’s hands on her hips, helping her come out from under the horse. He gently turned her around to face him and she almost gasped at how close she was to the prince. His eyes quickly flicked to her lips before he sighed, bringing on hand up to run through his dark curls. “M’guessing that you know about the wedding this weekend and that you’re working at it.”

Lizzie nodded slowly, looking up at him. She knew that Princess Mali was getting married during the summer festival, a perfect time for a wedding in Lizzie’s opinion and she was excited, even if she had to work during the event. Prince Calum nodded, slowly licking his lips before continuing his thought.

“If you get the chance to sneak away during the reception, or you’ve just finished everything you needed to do, meet me in the barn, ok? Wanna talk to you more.”

Her dark eyes met his, and something about the look on his face and the feeling of his hands on her waist had her agreeing, forgetting where he was riding off to, who he really was. He nodded at her affirmation, hand quickly finding her own and bringing it to his lips.

As he mounted his horse, Lizzie remembered herself and dropped into a curtsy. Calum smiled, shaking his head at her before whistling to Copper and urging his horse back into the woods to meet up with Michael.

~~~~~

The next afternoon, the entire town was gathered along the main street for the parade. Lizzie stood next to a bouncing Ella, who was watching the performers go by in their brightly colored outfits, celebrating the arrival of summer.

Finally, as the end of the parade was approaching, there came the sound of the trumpets. The trumpeters were followed by a line of guards, the sound of their heavy boots hitting the ground as they marched in unison seemed to match the beat of Lizzie’s heart as she looked beyond them for the prince. Following the first line of guards was a new family, the guests of the royal family, the other half of the wedding party. Everyone stared at them as they made their way past, waving to the townspeople as they continued along the route. Then, more trumpet blasts and Lizzie saw him, his golden crown glinting in the sunlight.

Prince Calum was on a pure white stallion, riding alongside his sister’s carriage, he was smiling and talking to her as he rode, sword strapped to his side despite being surrounded by Michael, Luke, and Ashton. He was wearing a deep blue button down, embroidered with what was likely thread made of actual gold. His pants were dark, a matching blue stripe going down the side of his legs.

As though Calum could feel her gaze, he turned his head to the crowd, eyes searching until they landed on her. Lizzie smiled and he returned it, giving her a quick nod before dropping his gaze to Ella, giving her a wave and a bright smile. Lizzie felt that if the guards didn’t have strict instructions to keep him on the path that he would’ve ridden over and picked up Ella to ride with him for the rest of the parade.

Lizzie watched Calum turn his attention to one of the guards, nodding her way with a quick smile. She looked on as the golden-haired man glanced her way, giving her an obvious look over, obvious if you were paying attention anyway, before turning his attention back to the prince. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but soon enough she was only looking at Calum’s back.

~~~~~~~

Mali’s wedding was as beautiful as could be expected for a princess like her. Lizzie had helped her get into her dress and braided flowers into the princess’s hair before other servants put her tiara in place, along with the wedding veil. Hearing the princess gush about her partner as she was getting ready reminded Lizzie that, as it was peacetime, that the royal children were actually able to marry those they loved, rather than for a treaty and expansion. She felt her cheeks warm at the thought of the possible meeting she’d have with the prince later that evening. Princess Mali had glanced at Lizzie in that moment, the mischievous glint filling the princess’s eyes in that moment telling Lizzie that not only did Mali know exactly who she was, but that Calum had told her about their encounter a few days earlier. She turned her face from the princess’s gaze and focused on fluffing out her dress, hoping to not betray any other thoughts she’d had since that day.

During the reception feast, Lizzie walked around, taking care of her two assigned tables. As she carried dishes back and forth from the tables her gaze would find its way to the wedding party’s table. The king and queen weren’t seated in the center as they usually would be, it was Mali’s wedding day after all, so they were sitting next to her, Calum next to his mother, and a few times she made eye contact with him as she passed.

Everyone enjoyed the wedding cake and soon after began pairing off to go dance in the middle of the field where they’d set up the feast. Lizzie continued serving until her table was empty, about four songs in, and then began cleaning up, taking the dishes to the cart sitting farthest from the tables, waiting to take everything back to the kitchens to be washed up. As she was making a third trip to her table to pick up, she felt a hand grab her arm and turned. Calum was right there, and he leaned down, “Whenever you’re ready, Lizzie, you know where I’m heading.” he whispered, his eyes meeting hers.

She swallowed, nodding at him before bowing her head. “Of course, Your Grace.” she answered, reminding herself that there were others around who could possibly hear them.

Calum nodded, smiling as he released her arm and continued on his way. She took a deep breath before continuing to finish clearing the tables.

Once all the dishes had been put into the cart, Lizzie took a last look around the area, making sure she was no longer needed before slipping away. As she walked, she removed her apron, folding it neatly before allowing it to rest over her shoulder until she found somewhere to leave it.

She walked into the stable and smiled as she was greeted by its familiar warmth, the sweet smell of the hay in the horses’ troughs hitting her nose, everything having already been cleaned out before the wedding, most of the horses left in the pasture until it had started getting dark, then all the stable hands not involved with the wedding had brought them in before going home, or joining the festivities. She went into the tack room, knowing there’d be somewhere to set her apron there. She was right, finding an empty space, but was shocked when she saw Calum’s clothes that he’d been wearing during the wedding sitting on the shelf too. She calmed herself, reminding herself that Calum did work in the stable whenever he had time, so he likely kept clothes more appropriate for the stable in the tack room. She let out a quiet sigh before going to look for the prince, having a feeling she knew where he was.

She was right, she could hear his voice as he neared Phantom’s stall, his voice quiet as he spoke to the grey mare. She stood in the doorway of the stall, watching as the prince rubbed the curry comb on his hand in circles through the horse’s hair. He was back in his riding clothes, probably a different set from yesterday, however. Lizzie hummed as she looked him over, still standing in the door quietly. It seemed that Calum was having a conversation with the horse, speaking before pausing and looking towards her face. Lizzie smiled as she waited, deciding whether or not she would alert the prince to the fact that it was no longer just him and Phantom.

Finally, she does so, saying, “I had no idea you could talk to animals Calum. Makes sense since you spend so much time with them, I suppose.”

If there hadn’t been a 2,000 pound, easily frightened animal next to him, Calum probably would’ve jumped. Lizzie smiled, stepping further into the stall. He sighed, giving Phantom a pat before rising from his stool. “How much of our conversation did you hear?” he asked, smile playing over his lips as he got closer to Lizzie.

“Your and Phantom’s secrets are safe with me.” she stated, just smiling at the tall prince as he stopped directly in front of her.

He hummed, nodding taking her hand and leading her out of the stall, closing the door behind them. He led the way up to the loft, helping Lizzie as they reached the top of the ladder, both of them settling into the hay that was stored up there. They both laid there quietly, Lizzie could tell that Calum was gathering his words, so she let him think, their hands just barely touching as they stayed still.

Finally the prince spoke. “I don’t need you to answer this and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, this is just something I need to get off of my chest, ok Liz?”

She nodded slowly, staring at him as he began to continue what he needed to say.

“I know I just saw you for the first time in ten years two days ago, but there’s something about you that I don’t think I’d ever be able to stay away from you. I’ve been around princesses and ladies and duchesses from other towns and countries at balls and festivals that we’ve hosted or gone to, but none of them make me feel like I did Friday. They don’t make me forget I’m a prince, allow me to have fun and be free. I-I never forgot you when you stopped coming to school. I wondered why you left, if I’d ever see you again. Mum says I was heartbroken, but I never asked what happened, because, like you said, there were girls leaving school at that time anyway.

But I’m so happy to have gotten to see you again, and I don’t want to go without seeing you again, without feeling how I felt Friday again. I don’t want you to think that I’m caught up in the feelings from my sister’s wedding though, but I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.”

He stopped, chewing his lip as he looked down at Lizzie. Her expression was gentle as her brown eyes gazed into his. He carefully reached up, combing his fingers through her dark curly hair. His mind cast back to their childhood. She looked a lot like her father from what he remembered of him. He had been one of his father’s closest guards and he hummed. “I know we can marry whoever we want, but if it worries you about what people would think, your father and mine were extremely close. He was one of the top guards, so when we lost him, just know he was very likely directly protecting my father. He died protecting king and country. If anyone in town has a problem with us, which I doubt they would seeing how they all came together for Mali, they can ask me about it themselves.”

Lizzie chewed her lips, looking at the regal, sure, look on Calum’s face. She didn’t doubt that he would’ve defended her regardless of her father’s status if they did get together, but his words did calm her a little. She knew he was waiting for at least some sort of affirmation from him that she wanted a relationship like he did, but she couldn’t find the words to put to an answer. She felt his hand slide down her face, still gently cupping her cheek as he began to turn away and she leaned closer, taking his face in her own hand. His eyes flicked up to hers as she turned his head toward her. She smiled up at him shyly before connecting their lips.

Calum moved quickly pulling her into his lap as he leaned into her kiss. A smile threatened to break over his face as they continued kissing.

They both pulled away after a moment, foreheads pressed together and arms around the other’s shoulders.They both sat there, eyes closed as they caught their breath. Calum slowly moved his head after a minute, nestling into the crook of her neck. He slowly began pressing kisses to the skin there, hands beginning to wander. She allowed it, tilting her head to the side and leaning into his touch. He groaned against her skin, pulling away just enough to tug his shirt over his head, casting it aside before beginning to busy himself with getting her dress undone. Fortunately it was just a simple servant’s dress, all he had to do was get the top layer off and it’d just be her undergarments below it, he’d had to go through more difficult puzzles during balls.

Lizzie hummed as he pulled the dress sleeves down her arms, trying his best to help her out of her clothes. Once he’d gotten her dress off and tossed where his shirt had gone had returned his lips to hers, hands roaming along her bare arms, before wandering the thin white fabric that was covering her body, ending just above her knees. He yearned to just allow his head and shoulders to disappear beneath the fabric, but he also wanted to take it slow, let it drag out.

“Cal,” she whispered, and Calum reveled in the sound of his name from her lips, no title, and not even his whole name. “What if someone comes in the stables?”

He hummed, pressing more kisses to her skin before answering, “Luke is sitting outside, making sure no one tries to come in, and Michael and Ashton are making sure no one tries to come this way in the first place. Not too odd, pair of guards keeping people from roaming the castle grounds outside of where the party is.”

She nodded lowly, reaching down to pull at her underdress, and he groaned as he watched her remove it. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to kiss her lips again. They sighed into each other’s mouths, Calum shifting his hands to remove his breeches as well. Once he’d kicked them away, he brought his hands up to her breasts, gently kneading the flesh before moving to kiss down her chest. He attached his lips to each nipple, sucking at them and giving them attention before continuing his journey down to between her thighs. One hand found its way to Lizzie’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as he gently pressed his lips over the inside of her thighs. She whimpered, staring down at him as he spread her legs, gently setting them over his shoulders, completely focused on what he was about to do. His eyes flicked up to meet hers as he slid a single finger through her slit, licking his lips as it came back wet.

He shifted a little beneath her, slowly pushing his finger into her, watching as each knuckle disappeared. She let out the softest moan at the feeling and he smiled, looking up at her. He could tell that, at the very least, she had never been treated like this before and he hummed as he thrust his finger in and out. Adding a second finger had her gasping his name, a hand flying to touch his hair, and she seemed to go into shock when her wrists hit the cold metal of his crown that he’d yet to remove, the sudden reminder of who she was with hitting her hard.

Calum hummed, pulling himself away from her. He slowly took the crown off of his own head, and instead of adding it to their pile of clothing, he leaned up and put it atop Lizzie’s head.

He smiled up at her before laying back down between her thighs, slipping both fingers back into her without warning and she gasped, actually taking hold of his hair this time. He let out a groan as her nails grazed his scalp, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to work her over, fingers curling up in search of a way to make her absolutely lose it. He knew he finally found it when she let out a high pitched gasp, fingers pulling at his hair and knees locking around his head. He smiled, working to keep his fingers there as he attached his lips to her. With the addition of his tongue and lips sucking at her he could feel her absolutely quaking around him and knew she wasn’t too far from reaching her high. Instead of letting up, he added a third finger, this one wearing his signet ring, the added ridges from it seeming to add to the pleasure she was feeling, because soon after, she fell over the edge. He detached his lips from her, letting his tongue run through her folds, helping her ride out the high before removing his fingers from her.

He moved her legs from his shoulders, pressing a kiss to each knee before he moved to be crouching in front of her, sliding her legs to rest around his waist instead. He reached up to fix her hair, watching Lizzie’s chest rise and fall. “Feel good, love?” he asked, a smile crossing his glistening face. She slowly opened her eyes, nodding as she took him in. He smiled, fixing his crown on her head so it wasn’t falling over her face. “Look better in that than I do, sweetheart.” He whispered, letting his hand trail down her neck. He moved his hand to her left one, taking off his ring and placing it on her finger. He smiled again, bringing her hand to his lips for the second time that weekend.

Lizzie hummed, looking at the man whose eyes were so filled with adoration as he held her bare body to his. She gripped his hand gently, carefully running her fingers through his curls before he brought his lips to hers. They both let out low whines as he entered her, Calum digging his fingers into the soft flesh at her hip. His teeth dug into her lip and she hummed quietly, eyes fluttering as she got used to the feeling of Calum inside of her.

He slowly began moving moments later, keeping an eye on Lizzie to make sure she was ok. “All mine.” He grunted as he found his rhythm, “gonna be mine forever, right princess? Gonna be my queen one day.”

Lizzie just nodded, barely able to form any words. Calum nodded back, attaching his lips back to her neck and shifted his grip on her. A few minutes later he felt her begin to flutter around him, “Fuckin’ hell” he groaned, “ok love, it’s ok, let go.”

Lizzie barely responded, crying out as her back arched, head leaning further back into the hay pile they were laying in. Her grip on his hand was deathly tight but he wouldn’t pull away from it. His head dropped to her chest moments later, his hips stuttering in her as he came. He just laid on her for a long time after both their highs had faded, enjoying listening to the sound of her heart beat slowing back to normal. He didn’t know how long they’d been laying there when he finally pulled out, moving to help Lizzie get dressed again.

Once both looked mostly presentable, having gotten all the stray hairs back in place and removed all the bits of straw sticking to their bodies and hair, they climbed down the ladder. Calum collected the clothes he’d been wearing earlier before they left the stable. Lizzie was still leaning into his side, his crown on her head, as Calum nodded to Luke. The broad guard walked alongside them as they made their way into the castle, disappearing to tell Ashton and Michael that their job was done once the door shut behind Calum.

He walked Lizzie through the empty halls, smiling to himself as he held her to him and walked to his chambers. He closed the door when they made it, setting Lizzie into the plush blankets as he began to draw a bath for the two of them. He found a bottle of wine still in his room and opened it again, pouring two glasses while he waited for the tub to fill. Soon enough it was ready and he helped Lizzie change out of her clothes again, pulling her to join him in the bath.

They each drank their glass of wine as they sat in the water, Calum gently cleaning Lizzie up and kissing every bit of her skin he had access to as they sat there. She was about asleep on his chest when he finished cleaning them both up and he smiled, drying her off and putting her into his bed. He went into his closet and pulled on his sleep clothes before finding a sleep shirt for her as well, carefully putting it over her shoulders and getting her arms through before he tucked them both into his bed, then tucking Lizzie under his chin, smiling as her breathing slowed and she drifted off, happy to finally have her with him again.

Tags: @astroashtonio @flannelpunkcalum @roselukes @asht0ns-world @cunnillucas @burncrashbromance @slimthicccal @5-secondsofcolor @colourfulcalum @babylon-corgis @fallfrxmgrace

[solign0501]

La Morte D’Winchester

Part 3

Summary - Sam and Dean Winchester are looking desperately for ways to stop the apocalypse and the inevitable choice between being themselves or being a vessel for Michael and Lucifer. One day, potential new ally Crowley pops up with info on a young witch who might be able to help - problem is, they have to travel back… to a land of myth and a time of magic

A/N: This is a fic that my best friend and I started writing a couple of years ago, set around Season 5 of Supernatural -  thought we’d upload it here and see how y’all like it!

Warning - it’s long…. like 30+ chapters long and we’re not finished yet! Also present day chapters in the present tense, historic in the past - see what we did there? :) (as an aside, we know the French in the title is incorrect)

"Your exits are located here, here, and here. If the cabin pressure drops oxygen masks will fall in front of you. Make sure you put your own mask on before helping anyone else". The safety presenter says over the speakers.

"Cabin pressure, exits, oxygen mask? Sammy I need to get off this damn plane" Dean says rubbing his palms on his knees.

"Dude calm down, the chances of anything happening is about as likely as Cas without a trench coat" Sam says trying to lighten the mood.

"…a whistle is located on the life jacket if needed. Have a pleasant flight" The safety presentation ends and the air stewards take their seats.

"Breathe Dean, Breathe" Dean tries to reassure himself.

The plane engines roar to signal its take off. Dean starts to hum AC/DC's Back in Black, Sam joins him to relax his brother.

When the fasten seatbelt sign is switched off, Dean jumps up.

"Dude I need a drink," he says to Sam.

An air stewardess looks at Sam. "Is he ok?" she asks him. Sam nods, smiling reassuringly.

"It's gonna be a long flight" Sam says getting comfy for the next 8 hours.

*****************************************************************************

"Merlin!" Merlin grumbled as Gaius' voice brought him round.

"Merlin!" The door opened and Gaius walked in.

"You'd better hurry up or you'll be late" He looked around Merlin's room and sighed. "And get this room sorted, WITHOUT magic"

Merlin grumbled again and threw the covers back.

"I'll make breakfast, Hurry up"

A few moments later, Merlin fell down the stairs into Gaius' main chamber, earning a tut and an eye roll from his mentor.

Grabbing the bread from the plate, Merlin dashed out of the room, mumbling a goodbye at Gaius through a mouth full of bread whilst he tied his scarf in place.

"You're late…" Arthur snapped as Merlin burst through the door.

"And you're dressed…" Merlin stammered, catching his breath.

"Observant, as always" He put down the papers he was reading and scowled at Merlin "Where is my breakfast?"

"I thought you could diet today Sire" Merlin said, ducking as a well-aimed candle sailed past his head.

He stood back up and grinned widely at Arthur. The Prince softened slightly. He was fond of his friend, but he kept his face level.

"Forget it. You're such a useless servant you'd only give me food poisoning anyway. What you can do is get my boots polished, my horse groomed and ready and bring my sword and crossbow. I've decided to go hunting".

"That explains why you're dressed. Will it be okay for you to leave the castle?" Merlin inquired.

"We haven't seen Morgana for months. It will be safe for us to go out" Arthur said matter-of-factly.

"Us?" Merlin said, dreading Arthur's response.

"Yes, us" He clapped Merlin on the back. "You're coming too; though try not to let the deer scare you too much".

Merlin laughed sarcastically as Arthur walked away into his bed area.

Cursing Arthur in his head, he went down to the armoury to collect Arthur's weapons before telling Gaius where they were going.

Gaius was in Uther's chambers when Merlin went to find him. He held the cup to the king's lips as Merlin walked in.

"How is he?" Merlin asked, walking up to Uther's chair.

"There's been no change. His mind is broken by what happened." Gaius straightened up and looked at Merlin. "I honestly don't know what more I can do for him"

They both stood and looked at Uther for a moment. "Does Arthur need me?" Gaius asked eventually.

"No" Merlin said, stirring from his thoughts. "He wants to go hunting"

"And you're going with him?" Gaius said, more as a statement rather than a question. Merlin nodded, still looking at Uther.

"Do you want me to try something again?" Gaius shook his head.

"I don't think it will work Merlin, and we should not risk Arthur finding out, or Uther remembering."

Merlin nodded again, feeling sorry for the man in front of him. He may not be the fairest of kings, but nobody deserved to be brought low like this.

"You could light a fire," Gaius said, checking Uther's temperature. "The warmth will do him good"

Merlin turned to the fire and held out his right hand. "Forburnan" his eyes glowed gold and a fire sprang to life in the hearth.

"MERLIN!" Gaius exclaimed, slapping him round the head with the back of his hand.

"Ow!" Merlin said, whilst rubbing his head and looked wounded.

"Don't use your magic, you fool" he scolded, turning back to Uther. "You had better go and get the horses ready before Arthur finds you and gives you more work to do"

"Right, see you in a while" Merlin turned to go.

"Merlin" Gaius called to him. "Be careful. Morgana may still be out there, hiding. Watch Arthur, but keep yourself safe too" He looked at Merlin over the top of his glasses,

"I will Gaius, I promise." Merlin flashed him his famous goofy grin, before turning and hurrying out of the room, nearly bumping into Arthur as he walked in.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked side-stepping Merlin and glaring at the warlock.

"The get the horses ready," Merlin said, speeding off.

Arthur shook his head, allowing himself to slightly grin before becoming serious again as he turned to face his farther, and a weight fell on his shoulders as he saw him.

"Your highness," Gaius said, bowing.

"How is he, Gaius?"

"The same sire. I am giving him every combination of teas and tinctures I can think of, but his heart and mind are broken".

"Morgana" Uther murmured. "Why Morgana?" Arthur choked back a lump in his throat.

"Leave us please, Gaius" Arthur commanded, trying to keep his voice level. Gaius gathered his things and made to the door to leave. "Thank you" he said quietly.

Gaius paused, bowing to Arthur, "Sire," he said affectionately before leaving.

"Father?" Arthur said gently, walking over to Uther's chair. "How are you father?" Uther didn't acknowledge his son. Instead he stared out of the window at some distant point.

Arthur sighed and took the seat opposite his father, "Our scouting parties came back this morning. The borders are safe, the outlying villages will be bringing in the harvests soon," He took a breath as he recalled the standard reports given to him that morning. "The store rooms are well stocked and the city's water supply was cleaned out. Gaius says that illness levels are down in the upper and lower cities." He steeled himself as he came to his main point.

"There has been no sighting of Morgana for three months." Uther's head snapped round and he seemed to look at Arthur for the first time.

"Morgana" he reached out and took Arthur's hand in his, gripping tight. "Why Morgana?"

"Father, it's me, its Arthur."

"Morgana, What have you done? I love you, my daughter. Why would you do this?" He broke and started to sob. Arthur leaned forward, hugging his father tight, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"It will be fine Father," he whispered.

"Find her. And tell my son I need him. Bring Arthur to me. Arthur!" he shouted "Arthur!"

Gaius came running in and helped to pull Uther back.

"Help me get him into his bed, before he raises an alarm," Arthur commanded as Uther continued to shout his name.

Together they half carried him over to his bed and lay him down, pulling the quilt over his father. Uther's cries died down to mumbling and then to silence as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

"I'm so sorry Sire," Gaius said, putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur reached up and grasped his hand, trying to stop the tears falling freely.

"Just take care of him Gaius." He gave Gaius's hand an affectionate squeeze before turning and walking out.

[arqueologiadelperu]

In 2005 archaeologists working at the site of El Brujo on the north coast of Peru uncovered an intriguing bundle of cloth. It had been buried in an ornately painted funerary complex of adobe in about A.D. 400. Inside lay the naturally mummified body of a young female aristocrat from the Moche culture, which flourished in that region a thousand years before the Inca. Experts have now recreated the woman’s features using techniques normally employed to solve crimes.

The noblewoman lived and died 1,600 years ago among the Moche of ancient Peru. Her grave included four tall V-shaped crowns and other riches. Scientists used the latest 3D technology to produce an amazingly lifelike reconstruction. LEFT: PHOTOGRAPH BY IRA BLOCK, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC CREATIVE; RIGHT: PHOTOGRAPH BY FUNDACIÓN AUGUSTO N. WIESE

The mummy is known locally as the Señora of Cao, named after a nearby town, Magdalena de Cao. She’s currently on display in a museum at El Brujo, but she’s hard to see. To help preserve her, she’s kept in a climate-controlled chamber. Visitors can look in through a window, but they don’t view the mummy directly—they only get a glimpse in a deftly angled mirror.

The museum’s curators wanted to give visitors a better look at this remarkable woman. They also needed to make a permanent record of her remains, which will inevitably break down with the passage of time. The solution was to create as faithful a reproduction of her face as technology would allow, as well as an exact replica of the body in its current state. “That kind of record could keep this extraordinary discovery alive for many generations to come,” says archaeologist Arabel Fernández López, who oversaw these efforts.

Assembling an international team of archaeologists, physical anthropologists, forensic scientists and artists, and engineers specializing in 3D technology, the Augusto N. Wiese Foundation launched the project last November. The foundation has supported research at El Brujo since excavations began there in 1990 under the direction of Régulo Franco Jordán.

The Moche flourished for more than seven centuries in Andean river valleys in present-day northern Peru. Almost a thousand years before the Inca, El Brujo was one of many seats of power in the region.

Research has included unwrapping the 20 layers of fabric that wound around the Señora’s body and enveloped a wealth of artifacts, many of gold, silver, and gilded copper. (Read “Mystery of the Tattooed Mummy.”)

The Señora was only in her mid to late 20s when she died. Why she was buried with all the finery, and precisely what role she played in her community are still mysteries. “Without written records, we don’t know who she was,” says John Verano, an anthropologist from Tulane University who assisted in both her unwrapping and her facial reconstruction.

Clearly she was an important person. At just under five feet tall and slightly built, she was no battle-ready warrior. But perhaps she was the wife of a ruler—or even a ruler in her own right.

To solve the mystery of what she looked like, investigators first had to produce digital images of her mummy. In similar cases, such as King Tut and Ötzi the Iceman, bodies have been scanned with a stationary medical CT machine. But the Señora had her pictures taken with state-of-the-art, hand-held laser scanners designed by FARO, a 3D technology company. The devices were originally created for industrial applications, but they’re now proving useful in forensic investigations and in cultural heritage projects like this one.

The dry climate of the Moche’s desert realm desiccated the woman’s body. Specialists who created the 3D model of her remains exercised extreme care throughout the painstaking process. PHOTOGRAPH BY FUNDACIÓN AUGUSTO N. WIESE

After the scanned data were entered into a computer, forensic experts began to rebuild the Señora’s face. Using specialized software, they first stripped off the facial skin to expose the bones of the skull.

The mummy’s skull displays the high cheekbones and facial proportions that are typical of the Moche. But a living person also has soft features that usually don’t survive after death, so the rest of the reconstruction work involved interpretations based on educated guesses.

The Señora, in fact, is not in the best of shape. Her lips have retracted, her nose is gone, and her eyes and eyelids are dry and sunken. That meant the experts had to rely on other sources for clues about what she may have looked like: the people portrayed on Moche pottery, studies of excavated Moche skeletons, photographs of northern Peruvians taken a century ago, and the faces of Moche descendants who live in the area around El Brujo today.

Once the face had been fleshed out on the computer, the entire head was printed in 3D. A model for a museum display was then created in fiberglass. But that model was as blank as a mannequin, bringing up another set of questions. What color were the Señora’s eyes? What did her eyebrows and eyelashes look like? What was the shade of her skin? And to make her come to life fully, she also needed clothing and jewelry that were appropriate to her elevated status.

Fernández López worked out those details with a sculptor who specializes in recreating historical figures for museums. “It was very emotional to see that final stage of the reconstruction,” she says. “It’s as if this woman had been resurrected. I said to myself, ‘OK, Señora, you’re with us once again.’”

The elite woman’s mummy was wrapped in 20 layers of fabric that enveloped a wealth of artifacts, including this necklace of gold heads. PHOTOGRAPH BY IRA BLOCK, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC CREATIVE

The museum at El Brujo is now creating a special gallery to showcase the reconstructed face. Set to open at the end of August, it will also include displays on the technology that the project used, the visual resources that were consulted, and various interactive presentations. “We want people of all ages to have a unique, memorable experience that connects them with the Señora of Cao,” says Fernández López.

The locals have already embraced the Señora as one of their own, often representing her in civic events and school activities. “People are very proud of her,” says Fernández López. “She turns up in discussions about the indigenous community’s cultural identity and has become an icon of Peruvian womanhood.”

Now the people of northern Peru have undeniable proof that this distinguished, powerful woman from long ago looked just like them. “I think it’s going to be particularly important for children,” says Verano. “Looking into her eyes, they’ll be able to see their own relatives from town, and their own ancestry. It’s something that a mummified face just can’t give you.”

Source: National Geographic By A. R. Williams PUBLISHED JULY 4, 2017 http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2017/06/csi-tools-mummy-moche-peru-cao-brujo/

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Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao

Señora de Cao, Face to Life In 2005 archaeologists working at the site of El Brujo on the north coast of Peru uncovered an intriguing bundle of cloth.

[ericpoptone]

In this — my tenth year of exploring, writing about, and mapping Los Angeles — I’ve so far eschewed undertaking my fairly exhaustive (and completely exhausting) community explorations for which I’m probably best known, California Fool’s Gold. Instead, I’ve preferred to undertake smaller, less structured “rambles” though the city accompanied by fellow explorers. For this edition, I explored Mid-City with my friend Machiko Yasuda.

I met Machiko last year, at a 3rd of July party. It quickly transpired that we had several things in common including an interest in maps and the same exact same Shiba Inu key caps. Machiko also informed me that she was also the co-organizer of a Meetup called “MaptimeLA.” I’d just signed up for that service after it was recommended to me by an acquaintance to whom I expressed my unfulfilled desire to go camping on the Channel Islands. MaptimeLA’s next meet-up, it so happened, was a camping and mapping trip to Santa Catalina. Sadly, Machiko wasn’t able to make that trip (on which we mapped nearly every street in Avalon for Mapillary) but we’ve both continued to be involved with MaptimeLA and, not long after moving to Mid-City, she suggested that we explore it together.

Potential questions a neighborhood explorer might pose is “where is Mid-City?” It’s name certainly suggests somewhere in the middle of the city, but where exactly? Does it have agreed upon borders? Is it a neighborhood, a district, or both? Is it the same as Midtown? Does it encompass all or parts of Mid-City West and Mid-Wilshire? I expressed some of my geographic uncertainties to Machiko but neither of us arrived at definite answers. My personal feeling is that that is OK — and that anyone who claims that there are absolute, official borders should at the very least be regarded with suspicion.

Historically, “Mid-City” is a vague description that has been applied to the central areas of many cities for at least a century. In Los Angeles County, “Mid-City” has been applied to the central areas of Montrose, Santa Monica, and Walnut Park — in addition to the city of Los Angeles. Los Angeles’s borders only began to move in 1896, 115 years after its establishment. As it gradually crept west, so to did the city’s mid-section. The Westside only reached the Pacific Ocean in 1915 — but I’ve thus far been unable to find any reference to Los Angeles’s middle area until two decades later.

Like the term “Downtown,” “Midtown” was imported from New York City, where it was first coined around 1930. It spread quickly to Los Angeles, where it was used to refer to the area surrounded by Hollywood, South Los Angeles, Mideast Los Angeles, and the Westside as “Midtown” at least as early as 1935. Midtown would later be subdivided into more manageable subsections. By 1941, there were references to the area surrounding what’s now Koreatown as “Wilshire Center.” The earliest usage I’ve been able to find of “Mid-Wilshire” dates to 1969. The earliest reference to Mid-City Los Angeles that I’ve thus far located is from 1968. “Mid-City West” seems to have been coined around 2001, seemingly to realign those Midtown neighborhoods with the Westside for reasons I’ll leave it to the reader to figure out.

Although people will squabble about “official” definitions and borders, I haven’t found any two organizations or Angelenos with matching definitions of Mid-City. Although all overlap, The Los Angeles Times, Los Angeles Department of Transportation, Google, the Mid-City Neighborhood Council, and my own Pendersleigh & Sons Cartography all have different definitions of the neighborhood/region. AirBNB‘s website describes Mid-City as “Downtown adjacent” — and yet their own map shows it to be not adjacent to any downtown except that of Culver City. Many definitions include some combination of Balkanized, pocket-sized, micro-neighborhoods demarcated by a host of apparently DIY signs like Lafayette Square, Pico del Mar, Pico Park, Victoria Park, Wellington Square, Wilshire Highlands, Wilshire Vista Highlands. In fact, in no other region of Los Angeles are old tract names being revived at such a furious pace.

There is one part of Mid-City which has remained incontestably Mid-City because, I suspect, tract names like Tract No. 558, 569, 1740, 4448, 4889, 5091, 5770, 5955, 6035, and 11723 just wouldn’t look good on signs. There are other options for naming neighborhoods — without resorting to a “Naming Neighborhoods Project.” Some neighborhoods are named after parks — but there are no parks within this area that rise above the designation of “pocket park” — and no neighborhood has thus far been named after a pocket park. Some neighborhoods are named after prominent street intersections, but I suspect that “Redondo-Washington” or “21st-Rimpau” just aren’t melodious enough… so Mid-City it remains by default. Note to neighborhood Balkanization proponents — Arlington Heights Terrace — subdivided in 1906 — is still waiting to be revived!

4571 West Washington Boulevard, built in 1927. Tenants have included Travel Fever, the Black Foundation, Posse Furniture, and We Pastel.

A mural at Pickford Market depicting the West Boulevard Overpass and a fictional “Midtown” street sign.

The West Boulevard Overpass (or West Boulevard Bridge) is, perhaps, an unlikely icon of Mid-City. The 39 meter-long arch bridge, built in 1933, is pretty but modest. It was originally used by pedestrians to walk over Pacific Electric Railway‘s (PE) train tracks used by the Venice Short Line (1903-1950) and Santa Monica via Sawtelle Line (1911-1940). In 1913, two trains collided near the intersection of Pico and Venice boulevards, killing fourteen and injuring about 200, prompting PE to replace wooden trains with steel ones. After the trains ended service, public stairways were fenced off and sidewalks sliced away as part of a city-wide surrender to automobile dependency. In 2013 it was designated Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument No. 1023. If that’s not enough information for you, Chin Thammasaengsri made an hour long video about the bridge (in parts 1 and 2).

Someone’s pet bunny, just after a face washing

Mascot Park, which seems to be a median converted into a pocket park with the addition of a sidewalk, trash barrels, and hours of operation.

Another look at this car advertising White Girl Rosé and an orange lowrider Chevy pick-up in the background.

A good example of what can be done with a road verge besides covering it with concrete or grass.

A tree in which a purse hangs above some benches

The attractive entrance of the Alta Loma School, which looks very WPA to me

Another improved road verge (with people heading to/from school upside down)

An Egyptian-inspired bungalow court, built in 1924 (two years after the discover of Pharaoh “King Tut” Tutankhamun‘s tomb.

Steep hillsides line valleys carved, I assume, by Ballona Creek or its watershed.

Inside the drawer of some roadside refuse marked “security device inside,” a vintage ticket to the film, Armageddon.

An oddly positioned Hollywood Regency element over a parking spot.

Charming Lafayette Road, shortly after a young boy unsuccessfully tried to sell us two warm plastic bottles of water for $2

A raised concrete island, a row of bollards, AND a metal gate… keeping fortress Lafayette Park safe from car-dependent criminals, at least.

Seven-lane wide Washington Boulevard. Sure there’s room for a couple of protected bike lanes, a couple of bus lanes, and a planted median.

A couple of DIY-looking Lafayette Square signs

Stately First Presbyterian Church of Los Angeles, built in 1924

Pinks and reds

A pedestrian bridge, long ago closed and thus successfully cutting off residents one end of Virginia Road from the other — because the freeway wasn’t enough.

A noisy, red-crowned parrot squawked above two men sitting on the curb, one pointing a spy glass apparently toward a home.

Testing out my sub-remedial Korean skills at 한마음선원 LA

How many Wellington Square signs can you see? (Answer: four in three styles)

We stopped at Pacific French Bakery, which seemed to be quite popular as there was a pretty substantial line of customers picking up treats. We also passed La Usuluteca, which I feel obligated to shout out in fairness to the also-popular competition.

Pit stop at Pacific French Bakery

Another parrot? It had to be a sign.

An improvised and well-worn trail at Washington Square Discount Mall for those who avoid stairs at all costs

An interesting building built in 1926 and successfully rendered hideous by Public Storage

We popped into the Underground Museum, co-founded by artist Noah Davis, who died of cancer at just 32, and his wife, Karon Davis. It’s not a museum, in the usual since, nor really an art gallery, it seems. There’s an outdoor space where people hang out, practice yoga, hear storytelling, or watch films. It reminded me a bit of the Velaslavasay Panorama, near the campus of USC.

The garden area at the Underground Museum

Overflow seating at the Underground Museum

Looking west down Washington Boulevard, the longest (44 km) continuous east-west arterial road in Los Angeles… and sadly, one of the most shade-deprived.

Mi Pueblo Viejo Bar & Entertainment, built c. 1964

Miju Motor, built in 1964

Carlen Powell 1972 — (?) Powell 1979

Vijaya Dharma Buddhist Vihara

Kappa Alpha Psi‘s Kappa Castle (left) and Kappa House (right)

The Paul Revere Williams residence (right), built by the great architect for his family in 1952.

Our final stop was St. Elmo Village, a small collection of bungalows built for farm workers between 1913 and 1926. In the 1960s, Rozzell and Roderick Sykes, an uncle and nephew, respectively, moved there. In 1969, with the help of other artists, they transformed the lot into an art space called St. Elmo Village. We came in search of hand-drumming but heard none. As we were leaving, we were met by Jacqueline Alexander-Sykes, who explained that the drumming hadn’t happened on account of the whims of drummers. Ms. Alexander-Sykes welcomed Machiko to the neighborhood and told us to come back anytime, and with that we concluded our ramble!

Oh hai!

This is my territory

Eric Brightwell is an adventurer, writer, rambler, explorer, cartographer, and guerrilla gardener who is always seeking writing, speaking, traveling, and art opportunities — or salaried work. He is not interested in generating advertorials, clickbait, listicles, or other 21st century variations of spam. Brightwell has written for Angels Walk LA, Amoeblog, Boom: A Journal of California, diaCRITICS, Hidden Los Angeles, and KCET Departures. His art has been featured by the American Institute of Architects, the Architecture & Design Museum, the Craft & Folk Art Museum, Form Follows Function, Los Angeles County Store, the book Sidewalking, Skid Row Housing Trust, and 1650 Gallery. Brightwell has been featured as subject in The Los Angeles Times, Huffington Post, Los Angeles Magazine, LAist, Eastsider LA, Boing Boing, Los Angeles, I’m Yours, and on Notebook on Cities and Culture. He has been a guest speaker on KCRW‘s Which Way, LA? and at Emerson College. Art prints of Brightwell’s maps are available from 1650 Gallery. He is currently writing a book about Los Angeles and you can follow him on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

Click here to offer financial support and thank you!

Urban Rambles — Mid-City with Machiko In this -- my tenth year of exploring, writing about, and mapping Los Angeles -- I've so far eschewed undertaking my fairly exhaustive (and completely exhausting) community explorations for which I'm probably best known, …