#* unless the walls caved in and ate me... and i died (or you know i pass away for some reason)

[hana-the-ghostieee]

hey! so um apparently bots keep following me???? assuming it's the same for everyone else

so if you're a person that's following me (why. what prompted you to make a stupid decision) and you have default... everything um maybe try changing your banner, write something in the desc (like pronouns and sexuality and stuff) and reblog a couple of stuff??? unless you'd like to get blocked. which is fine i guess (i question your motives but you do you)

[murciafire]

Lady Lazarus

Jason Todd Angst

Summary: “You don’t get to die and be reborn the same. You come back, but you come back wrong. This is the price you pay for resurrection” – Nathaniel Orion

Warnings: angst, the poem is about Plath's attempts but nothing explicit

Words: >1000

Notes: The thought of Jason dying and then being resurrected often led me to think of “Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath. I find that it’s even more appropriate considering that Jason’s died twice now (1988, 2024 – please let me know if I have it wrong). Since we all know that Jason reads classics, I felt that his thoughts might as well be as dramatic and poetic as seen in classic lit.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I have done it again.

There was a chipped tile in the corner of the wall where it met the smooth surface of the bathtub. My eyes would always catch it on the days I found myself lying in the bathtub, but it was so indiscernible that I didn’t think anyone else would remark it. (Not that I would care if anyone did, nor did anyone visit me, nor did I want anyone to). It was like a scar hidden under a chin that wouldn’t be evident until you tilted your face to where God should be (but perhaps in His absence, you could stare at the sun and the rays would make the sliver of cut skin silver, brilliant and hideous).

But such a break, where it was so insignificant, would bother no one unless you knew where to look for such fractures. And I, being that I am, often find myself wandering in an agonizing game of self-loathing where I’m drawn to discovering broken things like me. Which is why I think—and when I do think these thoughts, they’re often coupled with a heaving dry chuckle—I must cover the bathroom mirror. This game, or perhaps self-torment, is one that I often lose even when I win.

I put out my cigarette on the side of the tub—I had forgotten I had lit it. My nerves were so frayed that I didn’t think nicotine could absolve me any more than drowning myself in this bathtub hoping that a self-made baptism could bring me any closer to my father. I sighed, closing my eyes while dropping the crumpled cigarette on the floor beside me. My heart beat steadily in my chest, but I was already limp like I had given up. I felt a smile curl my lips into something cruel because here I was, in rose water which I wasn’t holy enough for, but damned enough that I was swimming in my own blood.

The bathroom, I thought, was a state of purgatory where all my thoughts merged into a state of expiatory purification.  Because I was alive and somehow—“One year in every ten I manage it—”

I groaned as my bones creaked and my muscles strained as I leaned over to pull the stopper. My eyes fixated on the swirling water, taking my blood with it. I blinked a few times, looking at my hands, no longer stained but very still. As if silence was a word to describe a motion—I wasn’t sure I was breathing. But I was.

And again I find myself moving, peeling myself off the floor of the tub, stepping over the edge. A sort of walking miracle, my skin bright as a Nazi lampshade, my right foot a paperweight.

I stood in front of the mirror and in my hesitancy, I found some courage, or as if reality took form and guided my hand to rip off the towel I hung over it, so I had to face what I saw in that tile: something broken. My face a featureless, fine Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin, O my enemy. Do I terrify?—

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh the grave cave ate will be at home on me.

I smiled, my laugh hollow as I wiped my face, continuing to recite Plath. “And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty and like the cat, I have nine times to die.”

I tossed the towel onto a hook on the wall before gripping the sink to stare at myself. “This is Number Three. What a trash to annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd shoves in to see them unwrap me hand and foot—the big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies—” I pushed off the sink, throwing my hands over my face. “These are my hands. My knees. I may be skin and bone, nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.”

I slid down to my knees, my chest heaving. “The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant to last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut as a seashell. They had to call and call and pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.”

I shut my eyes, feeling my body crumple to the floor and curl into itself. Silence, I decided, was a word to describe action. Because here I was, living silently.

“Dying,” I whispered, “is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I’ve a call.”

 

I rubbed my arm with my hand, my fingers brushing over scars—new and old. My body was littered with wounds, but no one could ever see the scar under my chin. Or perhaps, the one I wanted most to notice was the crack in my heart that shattered my soul.

“It’s easy enough to do it in a cell,” I muttered. “It’s easy enough to do it and stay put. It’s the theatrical. Comeback in broad day to the same place, the same face, the same brute amused shout: ‘A miracle!’”

I laughed or cried; I wasn’t sure. But air came out of my lungs and clawed at my throat to make some sort of sound so I knew I was still here, lying on the bathroom floor very much still alive. But it’s a miracle that I am, isn’t it?  That knocks me out.

There is charge. For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge. For the hearing of my heart—

It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge for a word or a touch or a bit of blood or a piece of my hair or my clothes.   So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus, I am your valuable, the pure gold baby that melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—

You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—

A cake of soap, a wedding ring, a gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer  

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.

[chasseurdeloup]

Gotta Pay the Cheese Tax || Elias and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Grotte de Fromage PARTIES: @eliaskahtri and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Elias and Kaden both stumble upon the grotte de fromage and find more than just cheese in there. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Kaden wasn’t sure what he expected to find by following the smell of cheese floating through the woods to wherever it led. It definitely wasn’t the mouth of a cave and yet, there he was, standing in one. The stench was potent like brie gone bad. Possibly. It was actually hard to tell if it had gone bad or not considering the way the entire town smelled at the moment. Still, while on his hunt, he couldn’t just ignore the lure of cheese. Sure, it was probably inedible but curiosity won out. He had a working theory that maybe some campers had cheese with them and were either injured or died and now the cheese had spoiled. Then again, if it had been out there that long, why had no beast or monster taken it? There were questions and they demanded answers.

“Hello?” he called out into the cave. His voice bounced back at him, echoing against the walls that went farther back than even he could see with his enhanced vision. Kaden reached for his shotgun and loaded it as silently as he could manage. “Anyone here?” He tried to remain still, holding the weapon ready in case any answer that came back to him wasn’t friendly. 

Ever since Elias had found a posting online about a supposed cheese cave that existed somewhere in the woods of Wicked’s Rest, he knew he had to check it out. Whether it be a good or bad idea, he would see for himself. Plus, he had vowed he wouldn’t venture too far into cave, just in case it got dangerous. He wasn’t much for cave exploration, but moving to a new town full of new adventures had sparked something in him. So that’s how he found himself in a stinky cheese cave, absolutely in awe that something like this could possibly exist. “This place is awesome!” He exclaimed, right before he heard someone call out into the cave. He shut his mouth closed, eyes wide as he realized he was no longer alone. “Uh! Hi?” He called back to the stranger at the front of the cave. “I promise I wasn’t eating it!” He then added, eyes darting back and forth. Not that he didn’t want to, there was a morbid curiosity that ate away at him, taunting him to eat the stinky cheese. “Do you uh… know who owns this place?” He decided to ask, walking toward the entrance of the cave. “Oh! I’m Elias!” He then added, coming to a sudden stand-still as he realized he came face to face with a man wielding a weapon. He held his hands up in the air, realizing he may have found himself in more trouble than he intended.

When the voice echoed back, Kaden knew still couldn’t say what or who was waiting in the caves but he had a solid guess he wasn’t dealing with any monsters yet; only an idiot. The hunter lowered his weapon as the man approached him, hands up. “I’m not gonna shoot you, don’t worry,” he said. “I mean unless you give me a reason to, I guess.”

Kaden peered past Elias into the depths of the cave and was pretty sure he saw cheese back there. Cheese? Just sitting around in a cave? “Putain de merde,” he muttered to himself, almost forgetting the guy standing right in front of him. “Oh. Yeah. Kaden,” he added. He couldn’t help but take a step around Elias to get a better look at whatever the hell was happening here. “I didn’t even know this was here, let alone who owns it. And judging by the smell, you don’t want to eat this right now anyway.” He wasn’t exactly going to call the cheese fresh based on that scent. “How the hell did you wind up here, anyway? And what even is this? It can’t just be a damn cave full of spoiled cheese.”

Elias grinned as the man started questioning him. It had been his first excursion into one of the many mysteries the town had to offer. The forums hadn’t been too specific on location, so he’d been hiking the better part of the day just to find the place. But one thing was for certain, the smell couldn’t lie. “I’ve heard all sorts of weird things about this place.” He began, pulling up one of the forums on his phone from a tab he had kept up. “Apparently the cheese is fresh during the winter, but it’s hard to climb to because of the ice.” He had explained, scrolling down the list of claims. “And that those who eat it start acting weird.” he eyed the rotting cheese, shaking his head. “I may be curious, but I’m not that curious,” Elias confessed, giving a sheepish grin at the idea of eating the rotten cheese. He had a sensitive enough pallet as it was, thank you very much. 

“And!” He added, excitable nature never ceasing to fail, “some people have reported an apparent highland cow with glowing eyes somewhere in the cave.” He waved his hands in a conspiratorial manner, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Also, I promise I won’t do anything to make you use that thing.” He added, pointing to the stranger he now knew as Kaden. “Seeing as how you seem shocked to find this place, what brought you up around here? Were you hiking or something?”

The creases between Kaden’s brow deepened the more this Elias guy talked. “Where did you hear all this?” The hunter hadn’t even known this place existed and here he was, searching it out? He knew this town was weird but putain de merde, this was something else. He loved cheese as much as the next person but who would want to come here while it was rotting? “I’ve got a feeling by ‘weird’ they mean ‘sick to their stomach.’” Part of him wondered if weird was code for something supernatural but he had a hard time buying it. It didn’t surprise him that there were some stupid rumors about the goddamn cheese in the cave, people were always like that. Once something was gossip, it was inevitable that at least half of the information going around about it was false. He wasn’t sure why the hell anyone would need to embellish that kind of shit considering the smell alone kept him from even considering eating the cheese. And it took a lot to make him ignore cheese altogether.

That said, the red-eyed ‘highland cow’ rumor was much more concerning to him than the weird cheese rumors. “Somehow I have to doubt that. Cows aren’t going to live in a cave, there’s nothing for them to eat in there. Not to mention they don’t have glowing red eyes. Must be people seeing shit or trying to scare their friends.” Kaden had a feeling that none of this was as simple as he just made it out to be, but he had a duty to protect people from the supernatural, including the knowledge of it all. Even if he suspected that there was something more to this, it was best if Elias didn’t. It might also be best if he left, just in case that highland cow showed up. “Me?” he asked, trying to buy himself some time to come up with an explanation. “I was out here hunting. For…” Putain, he should know what hunting season it was considering his damn job, but he hadn’t memorized it yet. “Deer. I smelled this,” he said, gesturing at the air around them, “and I got curious. You really came out looking for this thing? How the hell do people even know how to get here?” It wasn’t exactly a straight and easy path through the woods and there sure as hell wasn’t a trail. 

Elias kept his sunny disposition up as the man interrogated him on his knowledge, something he wasn’t ready to give up, not to just anyone. Of course there were forums deep on the internet of all the juicy small town gossip for him to find. Some of it was on neighborhood apps deep down somewhere, others were on websites about a weird places they grew up. He had learned tips and tricks over the years, especially when he was pursuing his degree in the tech industry. “I have my sources,” he told the man vaguely, shrugging a shoulder. “Gotta know where to dig on the internet, there’s a lot you can find with a few key words.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, but not before taking a few quick pictures of the weird cheese cave.

“I told you, I spent the better half of the day trying to find it.” He explained, pointing to the hiking pack he had on his back. “When it comes to discovering the truth, I’m in it to win it.” He gave another grin, clearly seeing absolutely nothing wrong with tracking down a cave based on weird leads on various forum posts scattered across the internet. “And if the cow is in here, I plan on finding it, or you know. What it actually is.” He gestured to the cave’s natural winding path, it was practically begging for him to go and explore it.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to exploring the stinky cheese cave in pursuit of knowledge! And you can go back to your…” he scrunched up his nose, he had never quite understood the nature of hunting and why people thought it was a fun pastime. “...deer hunting.” He finally finished, then turned around and began walking further into the cave, pulling his flashlight out of the side of the backpack to light his way. Even if it was just a stinky cave, he was going to explore it all, dammit.

Kaden’s brow raised with every sentence Elias spoke. This whole thing got weirder by the second. Sure, a cheese cave in the middle of the woods was weird. A monster living in it? Weird, but honestly to be expected in this town. People knowing about it and talking about it on the internet? Fucking weird. And possibly dangerous. If people were openly discussing the supernatural, that could cause all sorts of trouble. He made a note to try and pry those ‘sources’ out of the man sometime later when he had a chance. Assuming they both lived to see tomorrow. It seemed like Elias had a death wish or simply no sense of self-preservation.

“Woah, wait, you want to find it?” Kaden was stunned in place for a second. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled to himself as he trotted to catch up with Elias. “Come on, that sounds sort of dangerous. Why don’t you just head back and show the internet your cheese photos instead?” He didn’t need to wait for an answer from the other man to know that wasn’t going to work. “At the very least, let me come with you. I’m animal control. I can help if the ‘cow’ is aggressive. And it probably will be if you just wander into its territory without a goddam plan.” 

There was a little voice in the back of Elias’s head that told him this was a terrible idea, that just because he found the cheese cave at all didn’t mean he had to seek out this mysterious cow with glowing eyes. The odds that it was even real in the first place was low, and if it turned out to be something was in the cave like a bear? He was acting in such a way that it was going to get him hurt. He stayed still for a long moment after Kaden told him he would go with. Putting someone else at risk just made him feel even more uneasy about it. 

He slowly turned around, a sheepish smile on his face. “I mean, yeah we could.” He paused, looking toward the cave’s path going onward in front of them. “What if it’s a bear?” He wondered aloud, looking to the walls of the cave. Man, it really did smell like rotting cheese in there. “M-maybe I talked myself out of it,” he confessed as he scratched at the back of his head, feeling silly. “Well I’ve found the cave, so maybe I should head back before it gets dark, right?” He gestured to the exit of the cave that was currently being blocked by the supposed hunter. 

Kaden hadn’t expected the sigh of relief that left his lungs, but he should have. “Good plan.” He stepped to the side and had to resist placing his hand around Elias’s back and pushing him out towards the mouth of the cave. Instead, he simply opened up the way for the other man and gestured him out of the fucking cave full of cheese.

He was about to turn and follow him when he felt the sensation of ice dripping down his spine, sending chills through him. Putain de merde. The “red-eyed cow” that sounded more like a bies or a catoblepas than a cow. Could even be something worse than that. Either way, Kaden really hadn’t planned on finding out. Not today, at least; not while someone else was here. It seemed like his plans didn’t fucking matter because the beast lurking somewhere deep inside the cave was coming to them. The hunter faced Elias and put his finger to his lips, hoping that remaining quiet and slowly shuffling out of there would be enough. Kaden wasn’t taking any chances and raised his gun again, pointing it towards the darkness as he walked backwards into the light. 

Okay, alright, maybe they were safe. Maybe whatever was there had decided to leave them alone. Maybe it–

A high pitched squeal rang through the caves as a blur of fur sprung out of the darkness and towards the two men. Fuck. “Run!” he shouted to Elias, as if he needed any indication to get the hell away from the creature. It was gray, the size of a large dog, Kaden could hear the click of sharp nails against the cave floor. He took one shot. Then another. And another. If any hit, it didn’t matter, the beast barely slowed. Kaden continued to back up, quick as he could, gun still aimed at the monster, but his heel caught on an edge of the rocky ground and he found himself tumbling onto his back. “Just run!” he shouted again to Elias as the creature pounced onto Kaden. Giant fucking rat. Great, an ROUS. He held the shotgun across his chest, using it to brace against the monster, doing his best to push it away, kicking to try and get it off him. He wasn’t sure he was getting out of there. He had to hope that Elias still had a chance.

Elias, feeling slightly defeated, made his way to the way he had entered. He stopped for a moment, then turned around quickly to snap a quick picture on his phone, for the reminder that he had done it. It was the first time he had done something for his own enjoyment in such a long time, he wanted to remember the moment in all its stinky glory. He smiled to himself, knowing that finally, his life was turning around in a direction that he finally liked.

His happy thoughts were cut short when he heard a loud squeal, followed by a blurred thing. Phone still out, he began to rapidly take more pictures as he began to backpedal, then completely turn around and start running. The mountainside was steep, so it made it awkward to trudge down the path. When he heard the shot, he froze, turning around to see the man that was telling him to run was now pinned to the ground by a… a giant rodent? There was no way what he was seeing was real, right?  Sure, he’d seen New York city rats before, but this? This was on a whole different level. 

Still frozen in place, Elias remembered what he had packed. A flashlight, in case it got dark, a lantern, in case the flashlight burned out, a blanket, in case he got stuck somewhere, protein bars, a water bottle, and of course, as overkill, a machete. He had always wondered if the blade would come in handy, and finally it had. Quickly, he pulled his backpack off of him and unzipped the pocket, zipper getting stuck as his hands fumbled to keep up with his racing mind. Unsheathing the weapon, he ran at what he could only describe as William Goldman’s dream come to life. 

“Hold still!” He shouted as he came over to the giant rat, slicing the back of its neck as hard as he could. The creature shrieked in pain, but turned its sights onto Elias, who quickly pointed the blade in front of him, but clumsily backpedaled, nearly tripping over the uneven terrain as the creature encroached his space, bleeding from the wound that he had created.

As the fangs gnashed closer to his face, Kaden was at least comforted by the fact that Elias had gotten out. He’d hold off the large rodent for as long as he could to let the other man get as much distance as–

Were those footsteps? Was that a zipper?

Putain de merde. Did he come back? What the fuck was he doing? Damnit. He didn’t have time to look over or see what the fuck Elias was attempting. All he knew was that he was going to have to fight harder now. 

Kaden screamed out as he thrashed to push the beast away, kicking out where he could. The pressure on top of him only got heavier and heavier and the hunter was sure that he was going to lose this struggle.

And then Kaden was kicking thin air. The hell? All of the weight that had been stacked on top of him was gone; the monster screeched and had changed its target. The hunter felt the blood dripping onto him from the rat’s fur. Elias must have taken a slice out of it. At least that’s what it looked like. He sat up and saw the man with a machete in hand backing away, the beast hissing and about to strike.

Whatever Elias had done, it hadn’t been enough to stop the monster, only anger it. There was no time to grab a weapon, no time to put himself between the two of them. So he leapt forward and threw himself onto the beast’s back, clinging onto it, trying to pin its limbs in, knock it to the ground, fucking anything. “Weapon!” he shouted at Elias, voice muffled by matted, bloody fur and strained by his efforts to hold onto the creature. The hunter couldn’t say if he was asking for a weapon, if he was telling Elias to use his, wasn’t sure, didn’t matter what it was so long as something happened. Soon. Elias stared at the monster that had changed its sights onto him, holding the machete in front of him with wide eyes as they stared each other down. It all happened so fast, the blood dripping from the giant rat thing. The snarling that it emitted, everything about the creature was strange. This thing shouldn’t exist, he found himself thinking to himself, the gears in his head beginning to turn. He was always one to seek out the strange, but he had never gotten to a point where he actually found it. He had always pictured seeking out things, but he never thought about what he would do when he actually encountered it. It was staggering and confusing, leaving him unsure what to do with himself now that he found himself faced with it.

Then, Kaden was shouting at him for the weapon. Snapping back to the present, he saw the man wrestling with the creature. Clumsily, he ran over to the two, driving the blade into the thing’s chest, cringing as he heard the sound it made as the blade drove through the creature. He let go of the blade once the creature went limp in Kaden’s grasp, eyes wide with fear. “What the fuck is that thing?” He exclaimed, backpedaling until he hit a tree behind him, causing him to fall onto his ass. “I…” he couldn’t get himself to form a coherent sentence, none of this made sense. That thing shouldn’t exist. “How…?” He then got out, staring at Kaden. He didn’t seem nearly as freaked out as he was. He knew something about this, he had to. 

All he had wanted was to see a cave full of cheese. And while he did find it, he also found a giant rat. Not a New York City subway rat, but a ROUS that rivaled all logic. “I don’t…” he uttered out, shaking his head as he tried to snap himself back into a reality where that creature was just a rabid dog or a small bear. “No.” He then shook his head again, closing his eyes tightly then opening them, as if it would make the thing go away. 

Kaden used every bit of strength he had left in him to keep the monster grappled. He wasn’t going to let this fucking oversized rodent tear the other man apart. He wouldn’t let that happen. He wasn’t going to be responsible for any more death, wouldn’t stand aside and watch. But he could feel his grip giving out. The creature was wriggling beneath him and thrashing its way out of his arms. One second longer and he was sure it would break away from his grasp.

The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone echoed around them and the hunter felt the monster slow, then stop, and finally, fall limp to the cave floor. Kaden collapsed to his knees beside the creature. His arms were shaking from the struggle; he wasn’t sure how he was picking up any of his weapons before heading out, if he could even manage to push himself off the ground just yet. But he didn’t matter. He was fine, he’d recover quickly enough. Kaden’s gaze shot to Elias. He looked more terrified now that the beast was dead than he had when it was attacking them. “Wait, pl–” Kaden pushed himself off the ground and reached out towards the other man, but winced at the pain shooting through his arms. Putain de merde. He shook them out as best he could and then approached Elias.

“Hey, hey,” he said, slowly walking towards the man who looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. “Are you alright?” Stupid fucking question. Right. “Look at me.” He waved his hands a little, crouching down to try and get Elias’s attention on himself, away from the dead monster just a few feet away. “Are you hurt?” He was pretty sure that the guy didn’t know one way or another and gave a quick ancillary check for any wounds. He didn’t see anything gushing blood or completely out of place so at least there didn’t appear to be any emergencies. “Just breathe, alright? You’re okay. Breathe.” 

Elias felt like he was in another world in that moment. Rats were not supposed to get that big, nor should they. He had never even harmed a fly in his life, and now he had killed an animal? He felt light-headed. He felt like he needed to sit down. Instead, he stood stock still, eyes glazed over as his head continued to race through the horrors of what had just occurred. Sure, it was all fun and games for him when it came to hunting down these things. But the idea of actually finding something that shouldn’t be? That wasn’t supposed to happen. There was supposed to be a scientific explanation for everything in life and everything was supposed to have its place cosmically. Seeing a rat of that size wasn’t possible… was it? Maybe it was a different animal entirely that had a rare mutation. Maybe it should be tested by science. Well… maybe it should have been before he brutally murdered it. Was he a murderer? 

Then suddenly, he was being brought back to the present by the man that had caught him in the cheese caves in the first place. What if he hadn’t been there at all? What if Elias had gone in there completely alone and that thing had gotten to him? Okay, no more following leads on the internet until he was a hundred percent sure that it would be a safe hike. Sure, he was a very experienced hiker, he had dealt with bears before. But he wasn’t prepared for rabid creatures that were specifically out to kill. His body felt like it was shaking, was this a panic attack? He had never had one before. Suddenly, Kaden’s face was in his line of sight, and Elias struggled to focus on him.

“I… I’ll…” He kept fumbling over his words. It was hard to make it work right. “I think I need a drink.” He then declared, turning the way he had come. “I… I need to go.” He decided, taking a step away from the stranger, then another. Before he knew it, he was running through the woods at a neck-breaking pace. He couldn’t deal with this. Sure, the idea of finding a cryptid was all well and good, but actually finding one? He’d never thought that far ahead because he wasn’t supposed to be able to find anything! That was the point of being a skeptic with a hint of curiosity. Yeah, this town was definitely weird. And now he had killed something. Something that defied logic and shouldn’t be. He didn’t listen to see if Kaden was trying to follow him, instead he continued to race through the woods away from that stupid cave, that stupid giant rat that rivaled all logical thought. He needed a drink, maybe more. 

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread 1

Merry Christmas, ya’ll!  

I wanted to do something for the holidays involving my slow burn boys.  Somehow, this rose to the top.  Here is the first taste of Louis and Will switching places in the pred/prey relationship, while in a fantasy setting.  ^_^

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread

by peachnewt

Part 1

Once upon a time, a mountain in the West grew so tall that it's peaks, covered in icy snow, would reflect the sun's light like a candle, lighting the valley with a golden glow an hour after sunset.  Thus, the mountain was called the Lantern Pillars and the inhabitants of the valley benefitted from the extra hours of light to store away supplies for the harsh winter and pursue artistic endeavors. Buildings and towers stretched like candles ever upwards, bearing banners and stained glass that could be seen in any blizzard.  The valley, called Wax Wake, became the jewel of the Pillars, a destination for many nobles and merchant passing through the mountains with their exotic goods.  

But one area of the Pillars lay in the lee of the various crags and slopes in the mountain range; a rocky, forested area called the Greyfells.  In that dim and cold stretch of land lived a giant name Louis, the Grey.

Louis was an imposing figure, standing almost eighty feet high with wide shoulders, ice gray eyes, and a silvery blond mane of hair.  This wasn't a "fee-fi-fo-fum" giant that barreled around the countryside in rough furs, demanding maidens to keep his cave tidy, or oxen to feed his hunger, or gold to upkeep his lifestyle.  His mother raised him and his two older brothers better.  He kept his cave in semi-chaotic order with baskets and hangers for his possessions, did his own laundry, varied his diet with vegetables and other forage-foods so he didn't need to spend as much money on meat, and he had a yearly stipend for protecting mountain passes from bandits and clearing out rubble for merchant caravans.  

But Louis still wore rough furs.  Why wear fine wool or linens when they would tear on the slopes?  Plus it was cold up there.

And Louis did have a temper. While he didn't boom "fee-fi-fo-fum", he did grumble like a storm when the local coffee house didn't count out enough beans to last until his next monthly grocery run.  It was basic math, take the normal about of coffee a person needed and scale it up by sixteen.  

When one passed through the mountain trails they saw deep pits from fists, slashes of red, and the strike of an axe blade bigger than a wagon. Sometimes, at night when the Lantern Pillars had dimmed the townsfolk could see sparks flying in the Greyfells, an axe hitting stone.  They heard tale of blood-thirst and violence from a surviving bandit that surrendered himself to the authorities in Wax Wake after the band he had been allied with had been destroyed.  

At one point in the early Autumn, Louis left for a week.  "Visiting family", he said to those left in charge of the mountain pass. When he came back, he had dark bags under his eyes, a large sack over his shoulder, and a posture akin to a starved wolf.  

"I'm working on something important," he growled at the human guards.  "I'll do my rounds, but don't expect anything else unless it's an emergency."  

It had been customary for Wax Wake to hire the giant to help clean the stain glass of their towers, since he could reach them so easily, and hang the new banners for the winter celebrations.  They dared not ask this year.  Louis stayed in the Greyfells.  

No One with any brains or sense of self preservation wandered near the Greyfells, or pried into Louis the Grey's business.  

***

"If I had any brains I would have stayed with a caravan and waited until morning," William hissed to himself and the blizzard.  His booted feet sunk into another snowdrift.

William had been traveling with a group of builders and craftsmen on their way to Wax Wake to peddle their wears and skills.  It was a rite of passage to try their hands in the jeweled city.  But their wagon axel broke halfway down the mountain.  They hadn't the supplies to repair it and civilization was half a day away.  William had offered to find help, and went off in the direction of Wax Wake.  Except a blizzard had descended; white, blinding, howling, turning him around until he could not tell north from south.  

Night had fallen.  William, still lost, squinted for any sign of light in the darkness.  He tucked his hands under his armpits, sinking his chin into the scarf around his neck.  

His nose, not his sight, had been his salvation.  William smelled cloves, ginger, and cinnamon on the breeze.  Cookies? William thought.  Spicebread? He hadn't eaten since noon and his stomach growled, bidding him onward.  

He saw a faint light in the same direction as the scent.  Shelter, he hoped.

William wove through the trees and scratching branches until the bramble broke into a clearing pure white. The wind died in the circle, the snow and moonlight pristine as it lit up a lopsided brown shack caked in bits of white.  William didn't care how badly made the domicile was, it was shelter from the cold, hopefully occupied with someone that could help him, and feed him.  

"Hello?"  William trudged on towards the shack.  Warm spice hung in the air along with the overwhelming aroma of sugar.  And the snow under his feet felt different, more like sand.  

He peered into the shack. A stub of a candle, as big around as his thigh, had been lit and took up the majority of the wooden floor.  No furniture, no people aside from him.  

"Anyone home?"

What an odd house, he mused.  Stepping inside, the smell of gingerbread surrounded him, yet the only piece of gingerbread he saw was a stale hunk the size of his fist to the side of the candle.  If no one was home, they wouldn't be grudge him a bit of gingerbread from the floor.

While chewing on the hunk of gingerbread, delicious, he examined the rest of the rough house. The vaulted roof had gaps filled in with a white paste burned from the candle.  His eye followed the wall, attached to the roof with a tilt, leaving another gap filled in with white paste.  The house wasn't hewn from stone, brick, or wood.  Was it wattle and daub?  Clay?    

Will tested a ragged, brown wall, scratching it with a cold fingernail.  "It's gingerbread?"  

The tiny scratch, however, was enough to test the structural integrity of the shack and find it wanting.

Down came the walls, burying William in giant slabs of gingerbread, snuffing the candle.  

---

Will woke stuck between a pool of slowly cooling wax and a slab of gingerbread pinning him across his stomach.  Will gasped, trying to fill his lungs.  Despite its confectionary nature, the slab of what had once been a roof, or perhaps a wall, could not be shifted no matter how much he struggled.  Pinned as he was, he couldn't eat his way out either.  He would either freeze to death, or suffocate.

Will bleated out into the night for help until his throat felt like sand and the wax under him had hardened.  Then he heard a rumble, vibrating the ground and making the edge of the roof dig deeper into his belly.

An avalanche?  

Instead Will heard of roar of frustration and the slab over him was lifted as if it was light as a feather.

A giant face, bearded, blond, and full of icy fury stared at him.  The whispered giant of the Greyfells dressed in furs and breath of frost.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?!"  

***

Louis had stomped through the forest towards the protective circle he had set up for his project.  He carried a bag of red candies and a pot of icing with a small trowel.  If he could get all of the decorations up tonight then he could sleep in the next day. When he arrived, he saw a set of footprints in the pristine snow, and the gingerbread house collapsed.  Of course when he lifted the roof he'd find a meddling human.  

"Are you fuckin' kidding me!?"  Louis snapped.  

"What?" breathed the human.  

Louis tossed the gingerbread roof to the ground where it broke into four pieces, and then pulled the brown haired human out with one hand.  He stared at little menace, eye to beady eye. "I've been trying to keep this damned house together with sugar paste and a prayer, and then you come along and nibble on it like a fuckin' mouse until it falls?!"

"It was an accident!" yelled the human, pawing at the large hand that held him with his one free arm.  The tips of his feet, sticking out the other end of the giant's fist, twitched.  "I was lost and looking for shelter and food. And the shack wasn't stable, I barely touched it!  And the only piece of gingerbread I ate had already fallen from the walls!"  

"Shack!?" Fury lit up the giant's eyes like lightning.  He squeezed the human just enough to make him wheeze.  "I worked all day on this house and you call it a shack?"  

"S-sorry, but by definition it was a shack.  Though a delicious one.  I'm sure you can build a better one in a few hours."  

Louis didn't want to admit that the fallen shack had taken him two days, and had been his best effort out of seven.  

"I'm out of patience, out of my mind, and out of coffee," growled Louis.  He felt cruel and liked it, tapping into the reputation giants had gained as blood-thirsty ogres.  "You picked the wrong day to piss me off.  Cause I also haven't eaten in the last five days."  

Will gulped, suddenly nervous at seeing the giant's perfect grin.  "There is something admiral to be found in fasting in protest or in pursuit of a passion.  Why break such a streak?  Why not six days?"  

"Oh, I don't know."  Louis let his growling stomach speak for itself, causing the human to blanche.  "Maybe because it'll make me feel better."

"I'm sure we can talk about this in a reasonable manner!" screeched the human as he was pulled closer to the giant's mouth.  

"Reason left long ago."  Around the same time he had left to visit home and got saddled with this ridiculous task.

"There is always time for reason.  Starting with introductions!  I'm William James Rowe from Brex."  William stuck his hand out in the giant's directions, as if expecting a handshake.  "And you are?"  

Louis unclenched his jaw and breathed in the smell of sweat, sugar, and fear.  "Hungry."  

Part 2 

[kmomof4]

Going Home Ch2 of Somewhere Out There 3A Canon Divergence

I’ve wanted to continue this canon divergence for a while and I’m so thrilled to be sharing it with you all now! This fic wouldn’t have been possible without the INVALUABLE eyes, insight, questions, and cheering of @thisonesatellite. Thank you so much, my friend!!! I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

Ch Summary: After True Love’s Kiss works in bringing back Emma and Henry’s memories, CS and Henry return home to the Enchanted Forest.

Rating: For this chapter, G. For the entire fic, M (smut)

Words: 2500 of 5300 total

Tags: 3A Canon Divergence

Ch1 | Ao3 chapter link | Ao3 fic link

Tag List: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @nikkiemms @xsajx @klynn-stormz

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The Jolly Roger cut smoothly across the crystal clear water, swiftly approaching the castle of Snow White and Prince Charming. Emma felt a thrill of excitement skitter down her spine as she beheld the flawless edifice for the first time. Memories of her first trip to the Enchanted Forest paraded themselves across her mind’s eye, the ruins of the castle she was born in, as well as her mother’s tears when faced with its destruction.

But this morning, with the sun rising over the mountains that surrounded her parents castle, the exterior nearly blinded her. The rays reflected off the white stone and turrets she remembered her mother talking about after they returned home from their Enchanted Forest adventure until her vision was positively dazzled. Her family and the other inhabitants of the place of her birth had obviously worked hard to rebuild in the year that they’d been back here. Or maybe Regina had simply waved her hand to restore the castle to its former glory.

They had left New York forever the next day after spending that Saturday packing up what they wanted to take with them and taking care of all the loose ends that would have been left had they simply disappeared. They arrived two days later at the familiar rocky coast of what had once been Storybrooke to find nothing but unblemished forest and sea birds. Poor Henry looked like he was about to cry, and she had to admit that she was having trouble hiding her own tears as well. She’d been careful, she thought, about getting her hopes up, but seeing with her own eyes no trace of Storybrooke, she realized just how much she had come to think of the small town as home and just how disappointed she was that it wasn’t there. Killian helped dispel the melancholy that had enveloped them by taking them both in his arms and assuring them that he would get them home to their family. They changed course, back toward New York until they found and fell through the portal that would take them home.

A feeling of peace, of home settled over her for the first time in her life. All her life she’d been shuffled from place to place, group home to foster home and back again. And even as an adult, the longest she’d stayed anywhere was Tallahassee. But with her pirate and son behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see Killian leaving Henry at the helm and begin making his way toward her, and the rest of her family ahead of her, living in a fairy tale castle to boot, she had never felt so content.

Strong arms circled around her waist and clasped over her middle. She covered his hands with her own as he nuzzled into her neck, placing a tender kiss right behind her ear. “What are you thinking, Swan?” he murmured.

She turned in his arms and raised up onto her toes to kiss him. “Just how much this feels like home. Neal told me, years ago, that home was the place that when you left, you just missed it. Obviously I never missed the Enchanted Forest. I’d never lived here. And going back to where Storybrooke had been made me realize how very much I missed my family.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Missed you. Even if I didn’t remember.”

Killian smiled down at her. “Aye, Love. We missed you, too.” He gathered her in his arms and hugged her tightly for a few moments before he gave her a chaste kiss and released her, turning back toward the helm. She watched as he took over from Henry and her son started towards her.

“So, what do you think, Mom?” he queried as he leaned against the gunwale.

She smiled at him. “I think we’re home. And I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to see our family again.”

“Agreed,” he said, staring at the castle that was growing ever closer. Just a few minutes later, they were able to make out the dock at the back of the castle. Emma couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that there didn’t appear to be anyone to meet them. Wouldn’t someone have seen them coming from the towers of the palace?

Killian carefully brought the Jolly into berth as Henry secured the ship to the dock. Just as they were making their way down the gangplank, the Blue Fairy appeared before them. She gave a small bow before speaking.

“Thank you, Captain,” she began, “for bringing the Savior home.” Suddenly, the fairy pulled a small vial out of mid-air, uncorked it, and tossed its contents onto Emma.

Emma was frozen in place. Fear gripped her as she heard Killian and Henry shout, Killian drawing his sword in her defense, Henry’s face a mask of shock and dismay. Before Killian could reach the fairy, she waved her wand and a blue cloud of magic enveloped her and the magical being. Moments later, she found herself in a dark cave lit only by torch light. It took a few moments before she could see well enough to realize it was the same cave prison that Killian had left her in before she and her mother had made it back to Storybrooke. Only this time, it was the Blue Fairy on the other side of the bars, not her True Love and Cora. Emma lunged at the bars.

“What are you doing?” she shouted.

Emma stared at the fairy, stunned. She looked sad, apologetic almost, for her actions, at the state Emma found herself in. She rattled the bars in anger. “Answer me! What have you done? Where are my parents?”

“Your parents are fine, Your Highness.” Emma huffed at the fairy’s use of her title.

“Why are you calling me “Your Highness” if you’ve put me in this dungeon?” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on her captor.

“Because you are still the Princess in this land, and I’m truly sorry to have to do this.” And with that enigmatic statement, the Blue Fairy disappeared. Emma shook the bars before her again and shouted as loudly as she could. There was no response. She turned and looked around, trying to think of anything that she could possibly do to get out. Trying to use magic was useless. She at least remembered that much from her previous imprisonment. The light from the torch just outside the cell reflected off of something lodged into a crevice in the rock wall. Walking over to it, she saw it was a small mirror. Pulling it out, the glass was suddenly filled with a purple smoke before a dark skinned, kindly, ageless face appeared.

“Hello, Savior,” he greeted her.

Emma couldn’t keep the shocked surprise out of her voice. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter, Savior, but yes, I know exactly who you are, Emma Swan,” he intoned. “And I also know what the Blue Fairy is doing.”

It took Emma a moment to absorb what he just said. “You do? Why?” she asked, “She is supposed to be one of my parents closest friends and advisors. Why would she do this?”

His bottomless brown eyes grew sad as he answered her. “I have watched the Blue Fairy for many years, since long before you were born. She has forsaken her duty of protecting your family. It is my responsibility to rein her in, to deprive her of the source of her power and now that she is back in a realm with magic, I am able to do so.”

“Are you taking her magic?” Emma queried.

The man smiled enigmatically. “When she realized that her magic was weakening, she sent Killian to bring you home.”

“She gave me the dream so that I would recognize Killian when he got there,” she breathed. “She repositioned Cygnus, both here and in my world, so that he could find me.”

He nodded slowly. “Indeed.”

Emma looked back at the bars. “Can you help me get out of here?”  

“I cannot help you escape beyond what I’ve already done. You have the means at your disposal. Good luck, Savior.” Magic began to swirl in the mirror.

“Wait,” Emma cried, “Who are you?”

“I am Merlin. Don’t you know me?” he answered with a smile before he disappeared in a swirl of smoke.

Emma stared at the glass before her, not knowing what to do. She remembered what Rumplestiltskin had told her when they had all returned from New York after she found Neal. That magic was not an intellectual endeavor. She had to feel it. Squaring her shoulders, taking a deep breath, and shutting her eyes, she thought of Killian and Henry and how much she loved them and wanted to be with them again.

She opened her eyes again to see her two favorite people smiling at her. Her own face broke into a grin. “Swan,” Killian cried, “Are you alright? Where are you?”

“I’m below the castle in the dungeon. In Rumple’s cell,” she explained. “Where’s Mom and Dad? And Regina?”

“We’re here, Emma,” her mother called. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright,” she exclaimed, pushing her way into the mirror’s glass. Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you’re really here! And that Blue would do this!”

“Merlin gave me this mirror so we could communicate. She’s trying to steal my magic because he’s been draining hers for her failure in upholding her duty to our family.”

Snow’s face was an “O” of shocked disbelief. Regina appeared in the mirror. “So what do we do?” she asked. “We obviously can’t trust the Blue Fairy anymore.”

“Merlin said that I have the tools at my disposal. I figured out what to do with the mirror. But maybe, my magic too? That’s a tool, isn’t it? Mom, Cora said that even Rumplestiltskin couldn’t escape this prison. Why? What’s so special about it?”

“We had it specially constructed and magically protected so that he could never escape. Only light and dark magic combined can weaken the enchantment.”

They turned their eyes upon Regina. “Two sides of the same coin,” Emma whispered. “Regina, you attack from outside the prison, I attack from inside. That would do it, right?”

Regina’s eyebrows rose. “It should. But what about Blue? Where is she? How do we neutralize her?”

“Regina!” Snow scolded.

Regina rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about killing her. Just neutralizing her. Taking her magic, making her unable to fight us.”

“She disappeared. I have no idea where she is. But, if she’s wanting my magic, I would assume that she won’t be gone long.”

“Maybe she’s gone to collect some kind of vessel to contain your magic in, Love,” Killian speculated.

“In that case, we need to get Emma out of there.” Emma nearly burst into tears when she heard her father in the background.

Emma wiped at her eyes furiously as Regina, Killian, Henry, and her parents all appeared before her on the other side of the bars. Emma ran for the bars trying to reach and touch all of them at once.

“Okay, okay,” Charming shouted. “The reunion will have to wait until after Emma’s free. On the count of three. One, two, three!”

Emma stepped back and held up her hands sending a stream of magic at the bars that Regina matched on the other side. White and Dark magic met and sparks flew. Emma could see her family shielding their eyes against the clash of magic and, she’d be honest, if she wasn’t one of the magic wielders, she’d be doing the same. The heat and the power that coursed through her was like nothing that she’d ever known and she was suddenly aware of why the people around her had believed in her so much and for so long. Suddenly, Killian was there, at a hole in the bars big enough for her to climb through.

At that moment, Blue appeared. Quick as an adder strike, Regina shot the fairy with a blast of dark magic, knocking her back into the cell where she had imprisoned Emma. She appeared stunned as Regina shouted, “Seal the bars, Miss Swan!”

“Do it, Mom!”

Emma shot another blast of magic at the bars, making them whole again. Regina cast a binding spell both on Blue and the cell as realization dawned on their former friend and ally.

“No!” she cried.

Snow and Charming stepped forward. “Yes. You have betrayed us in the worst possible way, Blue,” Charming said, his face hard as stone. “For that, you deserve banishment and death. However, in gratitude for your part in bringing Emma home to us, your life will not end by our hand. Once your magic is gone, you will age like the rest of us. You will remain behind bars until death sets you free. This is your punishment for the crimes against our family.” He turned to his wife, who nodded in agreement with his sentence.  

Blue looked from face to face, hoping to find some glimmer of regret, a sliver of affinity in anyone’s eyes, anything that she could try to manipulate to her advantage. There was none. She bowed her head as the family turned from her in her prison and walked away.

The jubilant group emerged into the sunshine. Henry was immediately gathered in Regina’s arms, where he was overjoyed to hug his adoptive mother just as tightly as she was hugging him. Emma found herself gathered in the arms of her parents, tears flowing freely as she felt her father’s hand on the back of her head. Pulling back, astonished, Emma looked down at her mother’s very pregnant belly. It hadn’t even registered in all the action of the last few minutes until Snow gathered her close in a hug that was a year in the making. More tears spilled as Emma expressed her joy at the impending birth of her brother or sister.

Finally pulling out of her parents embrace, Emma reached out for Killian. “Mom, Dad,” she began, smiling affectionately at her True Love, “Killian brought me, brought us, home.” He took her hand, a gentle smile on his face, as she turned back toward her parents.

“We know, sweetheart,” David told her. “When Killian and Henry appeared, he was just able to tell us what happened and how he got to you. Then you appeared in the mirror.”

“Did he tell you about True Love’s Kiss bringing back my and Henry’s memories?”

David’s grin split his face. “Yes, he did. And I, we, couldn’t be happier,” he said, looking at his wife.

“We will plan an engagement and welcome home ball at once,” she exclaimed, green eyes gleaming with excitement.

Emma turned resigned and amused eyes upon her pirate. “Welcome home, Love,” he said, before leaning down and capturing her lips with his own.

“Yep, I guess I am,” she agreed.

Looking around at the faces of the people who loved her, she knew that she was home. Exactly where she wanted to be.

The End

[cakeandpi]

(some other unfinished, unpolished stuff, featuring artemis and kaldur and candles, but not the romantic kind)

---

The day after she joins the team, a storm surges across Happy Harbor and takes out the power the Cave. Kaldur mutters something about circuit breakers and leaves the group, while Robin hunts down flashlights. M’gann immediately claps her hands and gets far too excited about telling ghost stories. Wally tries to say something about not needing to be scared while he’s around - Artemis elbows him and he doubles over dramatically. “Oh no, M’gann, I think I need medical help.” He gasps, and Artemis rolls her eyes.

Kaldur returns - the circuit breakers have been tripped, but flipping them hasn’t fixed anything. “Weird that the generators didn’t kick in.” Robin muses, flicking on a flashlight and setting it on the floor, pointing it at the ceiling so they could all see.

Artemis folds her arms. “I am not going into some dark basement, I know how these sorts of stories end.”

“What stories?” M’gann asks, eyes wide. Artemis turns to Conner for help, who just shrugs. She doesn’t know what she really expected, in retrospect.

“Just bad horror stories, mostly.” Artemis says at last. She blinks as Kaldur sets something down beside the flashlight.

“A candle? Can’t you see in the dark what with being part fish?” Wally asks. Then yelps as Artemis elbows him again, less gently than before.

She scowls at Wally. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yes, I thought it would be nice.” Kaldur answers Wally’s question with more patience than Artemis feels it deserves. “Though I suppose the flashlights are more practical.”

“Well, I like the idea! Can we light it?” M’gann asks. “I’ve only ever seen this on TV.”

Robin returns - Artemis squints at him; how had she not noticed him leaving? - with matches and lights it. Taking the flashlight, he points it at his face and says, “Sure thing Miss M. And now, why don’t we tell stories? It is a dark and stormy night, after all.”

---

Years later, Artemis “dies” and Tigress takes her place. She kisses Wally goodbye, lingering because while she’s made the decision to back Kaldur up, she also doesn’t want to go. “I’ll be fine.” She whispers between kisses. “Try not to worry too much.” She doesn’t tell him to not worry at all because she knows that’s a useless request.

“I love you,” He tells her. Then, “You should go,” and she knows how hard it must have been for him to say that, because she knows how hard it is for her to actually go.

She shoulders her bag and follows Kaldur out of the building, pulling her new mask down over her face. The Manta flyer waits out in the bay, and it doesn’t smell like blood but the metallic scent of it fills her nose anyway.

---

The training session ends early, when her sparring partner gets violently sick. Tigress escorts them to the infirmary, listening to their assurances of being all right, they just ate something bad. She hums in non-commital agreement and doesn’t say a thing about how she’s all but carrying them down the hall.

After dropping them off, she returns to the quarters she and Kaldur share. It’s not until after she closes the door that the scene before her actually registers and she freezes. Kaldur, too, freezes, eyes wide and something like apprehension in his face. It takes her longer than she likes to think about to find something to say. “Doesn’t that hurt?” She asks, finally, gesturing weakly at him.

“Only a little.” He admits. The candle in his hand isn’t lit, but it obviously had been, given the wax dripping from it onto his arm. Artemis makes herself stop staring and goes to stow her gear, as if she had simply caught Kaldur reading or something equally innocuous. A door closes hastily; when she looks, Kaldur’s absent and she can hear water running in the tiny bathroom adjoining their quarters.

Leaning her forehead against the wall, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply. Whatever that was, it isn’t any of her business. Not as long as their mission isn’t jeopardized.

---

She’s not really sure how long it is after Wally’s ceasing. She knows it’s some amount of time, because it’s someone different spending time with her each day. M’gann brings her a ridiculous amount of food, and at any other time Artemis might have joked about stress baking. But for now all she can do is smile wearily at her.

Dinah makes her go to her house to eat dinner with her and Ollie and that is the weirdest, most awkward dinner Artemis has had in a long, long time, and she doesn’t want to repeat that experience.

Dick visits, and that one ends in a shouting match because things weren’t supposed to turn out like this. Maybe one day she’ll apologize for some of the things she said. Maybe not. Roy brings her beer and they get drunk and belligerent and shout at the world inside her tiny new apartment (because she can’t stay in the one she and Wally had shared, she just can’t). She vaguely remembers her neighbors banging on her door and something about noise complaints.

Even Kaldur takes a turn in babysitting her. Given that he’s somehow talked her into going outside, on a walk, like some sort of normal person who didn’t have their boyfriend just zap out of existence, she’s glad that’s after she’s mostly recovered from her hangover.

And that if she has to have company she’s glad that it’s Kaldur, because she’s tired of being angry and tired of being sad and tired of having to put up a front. Kaldur might have opinions if she acts weird, but he’d at least keep it to himself unless she hurt herself or him.

Speaking of -

“Can I ask you something that really isn't any of my business?” She blurts out.

She can almost feel his hesitation. “I cannot promise an answer,” he warns.

“It's about your candle. Thing.” She says before she can think better of what she’s asking. “Why do that?”

He's quiet for so long that she thinks he's not going to answer. The ground crunches under their feet, dry brittle grass and gravel and dirt. “Stress relief.” He says at last.

“Huh.” She rolls that over in her mind. She doesn't get it. “Think most people's go to for stress relief is sex.”

Kaldur snorts. “Have to like that for that to be an option.”

She starts and stares at him, flabbergasted. “And you don't?” She asks, as if there was any other way to interpret his statement.

He glances at her, then away, as if he's uncomfortable, and it belatedly dawns on her that she’s asking about Kaldur’s sex life, heaven help her. “It's not… quite that. But it's …” He shrugs, as if that should explain it. And it should, she’s just got a bad case of foot-in-mouth, one that she can’t excuse with grief or her hangover.  “It's just not my first choice of activity.”

“So you do candle stuff instead?” She can't see getting the same rush or release of endorphins from that. “Er. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry that much.”

Kaldur snorts, and he bumps his shoulder against hers. “It is fine, don’t worry. Just not used to talking about that stuff with anyone.”

She smiles wanly and bumps his shoulder back. “You could always tell me to fuck off, or whatever, you know. Don’t have to put up with my rude ass.”

He laughs, full bodied and head thrown back. She doesn’t stare, eyes wide with surprise, because she made Kaldur laugh like that? Wow. “Artemis, you’ve met our teammates. You’re a saint in comparison.” Her lips twitch, and she snorts and soon joins Kaldur in his laughter. It doesn’t turn to tears until later, when she’s back in her new place and alone and she has time to think about how Wally won’t ever get to hear Kaldur laugh like that.

---

It’s months later and she rejoins the team, this time in orange rather than green. She’d have come back sooner - immediately, even - but Raquel and Zatanna had sat her down and looked at her. “We aren’t going to make you talk about it, if you don’t want,” Zatanna had said.

“But you’ve been on that mission for months now, and you intend to just throw yourself right back into the fray? Do you even know how you want Tigress to operate as a hero yet?” Raquel asked, arms folded and face stern.

Artemis had wanted to argue. Had argued, even. Told them that she’d figure it out along the way, because how else did people do these things? And she might have won that argument, if it had been just one of them. But the pair of them, working in tandem against her? She found herself somehow agreeing to ease her way back to being a full-time member of the team.

From the anxious, worried looks the newer, younger members had given her the first time she ran a mission post-Wally? She still wasn’t sure if it had been a good idea.

Slowly, she found her footing again. More quickly with the older team members who knew her, not just knew of her. It helped that her old teammates treated her as they always had, letting the newer heroes pick up on their cues.

---

The mission didn't go well. The team is back all in one piece and uninjured but definitely a bit rattled. As they debrief Black Canary on the mission, Artemis keeps a watch on Kaldur from the corner of her eye. He's tense, even here at the Watchtower where it's safe, his muscles taut and his movements jerkier than normal.

When the team is dismissed, most of them disperse, going home or going out as the case may be. Home sounds good, as does a hot shower and sleeping for hours, but Kaldur worries her.

So she stays and follows him down through the hallways to his quarters. “Did you have need of something?” He asks, pausing outside his door.

“No. You're going to do that thing, right? From the undercover mission?” She jams her hands into her pockets. She shouldn’t be asking this, but she also doesn’t want to just leave knowing he’s about to go hurt himself, in private, without anyone knowing. “May I watch?”

He turns to look at her then, and she tries not to squirm under his scrutiny. His frown is intense, and it’s all she can do to not take a step back. “And if I say no?”

There’s an almost apprehensive note to his question, and Artemis realizes with a start that he’s worried about what she might do in response. “Then you say no and I go home. I'll worry, but that's my problem.” She shrugs, trying to fake an uncaring calm she doesn’t really feel. “I do complicated trick shots to de-stress, sometimes. Don't always want to be watched, cause then someone might think it’s how I usually do things. But sometimes it's fun to show off too, you know?”

His mouth quirks as if she's said something funny. “What, not sex?”

Oh. Their previous conversation about this. Her face flushes hot. “Well. That too, but it's more complicated now.”

He examines her for another moment, though what he’s looking for she can’t say. “Okay, but you're just watching. All right?” He holds open the door for her.

“All right.”

It's a lot more mundane than her imagination had built it up to be. “Actual burns are not the point,” he tells her. “It's about the sensation, not to cause harm.”

“Oh.” She knows she's a bit of an unwanted outsider here, so she does her best to make her presence unobtrusive, leaning against the far wall from where Kaldur is setting up. “But you said it does hurt some?”

“Only briefly, and only a little.” He reappears from the bathroom, dressed in sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, candle and a box of matches in hand. “And far less than blocking one of Superboy’s punches during a sparring match.” He sets it down and lights it, flicking the match out then dropping it in a nearby glass of water.

“Took so long to get him to understand what pulling a punch meant.”

“And now he’s taken charge of training our newer members.”

Artemis smiles fondly. “Remember when he was so angry about everything? But now, you actually have to genuinely work at it to get him genuinely riled up.”

“He really has come a long way. All of us have.”

“Yeah.” She ducks her head so he doesn’t see her smile waver. She doesn’t need to bring the mood down by tacking on ‘all of us that survived’. The light flickers - or rather, stops flickering - and she looks back up. He’s holding it over his outstretched arm and the wax drips out and down and onto him. Artemis swallows, watching as he slowly, bit by bit, builds up more and more wax on his arm. After a few minutes, he sets the candle down and relights it.

“The first time I did this,” he says, making her jump at the sudden break in silence, “the first time, I was thinking to test my heat tolerance.”

“Turning up the thermostat would’ve been easier.”

He graces her with a small smile. “Ah, but this was before the team formed - I lived solely in Atlantis back then. And, well. I suppose I could found a hydrothermal vent and tested my limits there. Shayeris uses some for power, but those are guarded. And beyond that, heat feels different here on the surface. More sharp.”

“Yeah?” A twinge of guilt pricks at her. “Bialya must’ve been rough.” Sure, she had only just been part of the team for a month back then, and they had all lost a full half year of their memories; she literally didn't know that she knew he existed until M'gann put the team’s memories back together. And she hadn’t realized at the time just how vulnerable Kaldur was to heat. Had believed far more in that confident, invincible aura he projected, for all that she would poke at it to, ostensibly, remind him that he was human.

“At the time, it was. Dry heats like that are … unpleasant. Though I’d call that undercover mission rougher.”

“Not the same, and you know it.” He simply hums a non-response. “So are you, like, still testing your heat tolerance or something?”

“No.” She supposes the candle’s built up enough wax to his liking because he snuffs it out once again. “No, I discovered that I… like this. I’m not sure if I can articulate why.”

This time, instead of just drops it’s one long, thin stream. He trails it down his arm and over his hand, letting it pool in his palm and drip over the webbing between his fingers. With a start, she realizes she’s moved across the room to within arm’s reach of him and she has to stop herself from touching the wax decorating his skin.

“Artemis?”

She swallows. “Um. Can I see? What it feels like?”

He pauses, then gestures for her to hold out her arm. “It cooler, the higher up it is.” He murmurs. “Your arm okay?” She nods, trying not to tense up, watching as he tilts the candle slowly to let a tiny bit drop on her skin. It flares, hot but not burning, and by the time she’s breathed in and out again it’s barely an afterthought of warmth, the wax already hardening on her arm.

“That… was not what I was expecting.” And to be honest, she hadn’t really thought about what she was expecting. Something with more bite to the heat? More pain? She steps back, picking at her arm - it peels and flakes off under her nails. “You only ever do your arms like that?”

He’s looking at her oddly. “That’s right.” He says finally.

---

“So.” Artemis scrubs her hands against her jeans nervously. They’re sitting at her dining table, and it feels smaller than it usually does with a visitor. Her entire apartment feels smaller. Not that it shouldn’t feel smaller, because this one is just meant for one person, as opposed to the one she had shared with Wally. But with Kaldur sitting across from her, hands cupped around a glass of ice water, she can feel the difference in space more acutely than usual.

She’s stalling, and that won’t help the weird nervousness prowling under her skin. “How would this work? Do we make a standing appointment or just kind of wing it or…?”

Kaldur makes a face. “I don’t know.” He admits, clearly not wanting to admit that. “I do not think, given our lives, that a regularly scheduled session would work out. For that matter, it is not something I actually do terribly often, so it may be best to play it by ear.”

She nods. “Okay, that sounds like a plan.” She exhales heavily.

---

They sit cross legged across from each other on her kitchen floor, a cheap folded up tarp beneath them, and a towel across his legs to keep his clothes safe. “Tell me if I’m not doing this right, okay?” She says, twisting a candle between her fingers. The flame on the wick flickers.

“You have to actually do something to have a chance of being wrong.” Kaldur smiles at her, amused.

She snorts. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust you.” He sounds so certain and confident of that. She swallows, something warm settling in her chest. “Artemis, you can hit a spot on the wall from fifty feet away regularly with barely a glance. This is simply a much easier variation on that kind of precision and control.”

“A big variation.” She mutters, but picks up the candle and blows it out. “Okay, which arm?”

“Left.” He holds it out for her obligingly.

She breathes like she does for her archery, letting the wax drop between heartbeats. Her eyes flick to his face every few moments, watching for the smallest signs of discomfort. There’s none - he’s not relaxed, per se, but neither is he tense. His gaze is fixed on his arm and what she’s doing to it. “Don’t keep it all in one spot.” He tells her after a moment.

“Oh, oh sorry.” She looks back down and aims higher up his arm.

[sssrha]

Complications || Naruto Fanfiction

Everyone is dead except for Team Seven, and Naruto considers time travel a viable option. So, of course, his teammates ruin it for him. [au, oocness, one-shot, crack-fic, dark humor, gen]

[You can also read it on AO3, FFN, and Wattpad]

Begin:

Today was not a good day for Sakura Haruno. Actually, most days haven’t been good for Sakura, nor for the rest of Team Seven. One couldn’t blame them, though, seeing as the whole world was kind of wiped out and they were probably the last humans left. Well, maybe some remote tribe off in the Land of Whatever was still thriving, but as for the rest of civilization—poof! Gone in an instant.

Try as she might, though, Sakura couldn’t really bring herself to care. True, she felt sad but it was kind of a detached sadness. Occasionally, she would look around the dark cave that she and her teammates had holed up in and think, Huh, I used to have a house.

As of right now, however, she was oddly fascinated by the little spider in front of her. It climbed up the wall, its legs somehow finding a grip on the slippery surface. Carefully, Sakura prodded it with a nearby stick, and the spider started to climb up the wall faster. Resilient, then. Determined. Sakura’s smile grew. He’s the perfect friend! Absolutely convinced that Sasuke would be as excited as she was, she yelled, “Ke, look who I found!”

Sasuke, who had been devouring the leg of some animal or another, looked up. He squinted, wiping some of the blood off his cheek. Maybe I should cook it next time. Nevertheless, he called back, “What is it, Ra?”

“A spider!” Sakura turned to look at him, smiling. “You know, To told you to not eat raw meat anymore,” she said offhandedly.

Sasuke scowled and took another large bite from the chunk of meat in his hands. “To’s paranoid, and I don’t care about the spider unless I can eat it.”

Sakura got a thoughtful look on her face. She took her stick up and once again prodded at the arachnid. “I mean, you could theoretically eat him. He’s not poisonous.”

Sasuke paused. He looked up and squinted at Sakura. “Really?”

“He probably wouldn’t fill you up very much…” She stared off into space, lost in her own head.

Sasuke, meanwhile, looked back down at the unfortunate creature that had wandered into the cave. It was a little larger than his abdomen; he could probably finish it in a few more minutes, and it definitely wouldn’t fill him. A spider might help. And so, Sasuke Uchiha stood up, walked right past a contemplating Sakura, grabbed the spider on the wall, and swallowed it whole.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the cave. Then, Sakura let out a horrified screech. “Ke, you ate him!”

Sasuke swallowed a second time, satisfied when the spider finally stopped trying to scurry back up his throat. Then, he gave Sakura a confused look. “You said I could eat it.”

“Theoretically!” Sakura snapped. “We had a friend, Ke, and you ate him!”

Sasuke scowled. “It was a spider and I was hungry.”

“You don’t just go around eating your friends!”

“I don’t,” Sasuke agreed. “I go around eating food!”

“Friends aren’t food!”

“My friends aren’t, I don’t know about your’s!”

“You don’t have any friends!”

“Neither do you!”

They both glared at each other, full of venom. Nearly in unison, they both pulled their arms back, hands fisted, ready to throw a punch, when a voice yelled, “Not again! I swear, you two will be the death of me!” Naruto Uzumaki stomped into the cave, his shirt missing and nearly every visible inch of skin caked in mud and blood. He stared at them, scowling. “I left for twenty minutes and you two are already ready to kill each other!”

Immediately, Sasuke and Sakura pulled back. Sakura hung her head in shame but Sasuke just looked away, not making eye contact. “I’m sorry, To,” they chorused, and Naruto sighed.

“Yeah, whatever, I guess I should have—” Naruto froze, eyes zeroing in on the bloody carcass in the middle of the cave. “Sasuke! I thought I told you not to eat raw meat! Either cook it or wait for me to cook it!”

“I could cook it,” Sakura said.

“Yeah, I don’t trust you with fire.” He turned back to Sasuke. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Sasuke scowled. “I was hungry cooking it would take too long.”

“You’re always hungry. Sasuke, you could have gotten salmonella—is that what it’s called, Sakura?”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “It can be deadly.”

“See, Sasuke? You could have died!”

“I’m not going to die.”

“Says who?”

“No one.”

“Exactly—no one because everyone is dead!”

Sasuke waved his concern away, flushing a bit when he realized that his hand was still stained red. Clearing his throat, he said, “You’re exaggerating.”

“Exagger— Oh my god, Sasuke, you’re insufferable.” Sighing, he sat down on the floor. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is this!” He pulled something out of his pack and placed it on the floor, smiling. “It changes everything.”

Sakura examined it closely. Her eyes widened. “It’s a scroll!” she said, delighted. “I can keep all my friends in there now—”

“No,” Naruto interrupted, “you cannot. This is not a storage scroll, it contains a jutsu.”

“You mean it’s storing a jutsu?” Sasuke muttered.

Naruto ignored him. “The jutsu...is a time travel jutsu!” There is a bit of silence, and Naruto took that as a cue to continue. “We can go back and save everyone! Sai and Yamato and Kakashi—”

“Kaka-sensei’s fine,” Sakura interrupted.

Sasuke nodded, though Naruto noticed him eyeing the rotting carcass again. “Yeah, he’s over there, like always.”

Against his will, Naruto turned toward the corner of the cave. There sat a skeleton, propped up against the wall. Its legs were folded, in its arms was an orange book, and a hitai-ate was slanted over one of its eye sockets. More importantly, though, a rusty kunai was jammed into its rib cage. Naruto glanced at it, then glanced back at Sasuke and Sakura. Flatly, he said, “Oops. Sorry, easy mistake.”

Sasuke snorted. He turned to Sakura and muttered, “And he calls us the insane ones.”

“Yeah,” Sakura agreed. She turned to the skeleton and called out, “Hey, Kaka-sensei, how are you?” The skeleton’s head promptly tumbled off of its body and shattered into a hundred pieces. Naruto stared, wide-eyed, but Sakura just nodded. “See, he’s fine.”

“...I’m not having this conversation with you two. Look, let’s get back to the scroll. We could...we could save Itachi! That’s great!”

Sasuke tilted his head, considering. “How would we do that?”

“We could kill Danzo!”

“But wouldn’t that create another complicated slew of problems?”

“But we can survive them!”

“No, I really don’t think we could.”

Naruto scowled. “You just said that you weren’t going to die!”

“Don’t twist my words.”

“Sa— Ugh, whatever. Look, this scroll is a good thing. Let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

“Go back in time!”

“We could,” Sakura agreed, “but what if we cause some kind of rip in the space-time continuum?”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know?” Sasuke asked.

“I just...what’s the point of having a time-travel jutsu if it just destroys everything?”

“Then how come we didn’t know that it existed before?” Sasuke said. “If someone has a time-travel jutsu, then they could go back in time. They could sell it and make millions.”

“They might want to keep it a secret.”

“But wouldn’t they fix everything?”

“I...maybe they fixed things for themselves.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Sakura hummed. “What if we end up in each other’s bodies by accident? What if we end up in someone else’s body?” A pause. “What if we end up in the body of a sea slug?”

Naruto stared at her. “I...whoever made this probably—”

“And what would happen if we were shoved into the body of a dinosaur right before the meteor hit Earth?” Sasuke asked. “Because that would be bad. Do you know how to control how far back we go?”

“I’m sure—”

“What if,” Sasuke continued, “we ended up in one of our parents’ bodies while they’re having se—”

“Stop it!” Naruto snapped.

Sasuke shrugged. “It could happen.”

“But—”

“It could.”

“Ke,” Sakura said, “stop it. You’re ruining it for To!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just laying out all the possibilities.” He sighed and turned to Naruto. “Sorry, To, you can do the jutsu.”

Naruto, however, was just staring down at the scroll in his hand. “I don’t think I want to go back anymore…”

Sasuke shrugged. “Fair enough.” He grabbed the scroll out of Naruto’s hand and threw it to Sakura. “Here, use it for your friends.” Sakura squealed in delight. Naruto stared blankly as she opened it, scratched out the jutsu that was written on it, and started to draw a storage seal. After a few moments, Sasuke awkwardly patted him on the back. “Don’t feel too bad, To. It was doomed to fail.”

“...yeah.”

Realizing that he hadn’t really cheered him up, Sasuke sighed and rummaged through his pack. Finally, he pulled out a deck of cards and said, “You want to play Crazy Eights?”

Sakura’s head snapped up. “I do!”

Flatly, Naruto said, “I refuse to play cards with you two.”

Sakura smiled. “You can play with Kaka-sensei. You haven’t been talking to him much lately—I think he’s starting to get worried.”

Naruto stared at her, then looked back at Kakashi’s skeleton. Well, I could get some peace and quiet for once. “Give me the damn cards.”

And that is how Naruto found himself sitting in front of the headless skeleton of his dead Sensei. A bit too late, he realized that he forgot how to play Crazy Eights. Hey, Kurama, do you remember?

There was a low growl followed by a groggy No, and Naruto’s head was once again filled with loud snores. Normally, Naruto would kick and scream and do everything in his power to get the fox to wake up—and it would never work—but he didn’t really care at the moment and, quite frankly, he was tired of being the sane one. So, he looked up to where the skeleton’s skull would have been and asked, “You got any twos?”

.fin.

[queenofallcorgis]

Stone

Summary: Phil knew the only way to bring his family honor was if he could slay a monster. The monster ended up being less...monstrous and more lonely. GreekSoldier!Phil and Gorgon!Dan

Warnings: Violence, character death

He wasn’t cut out for this.

 Phil had known it long before he started this little quest. His armor felt too heavy, his sword sat awkwardly at his side, his feet ached, and the sun practically blinded him. He grunted as he pulled himself up a short cliff face.

 The pebbles stuck to his palms but he brushed them off. Then he looked up and his breath caught in his throat. A deer stood before him, muscles tensed in preparation for flight. Its eyes were huge and locked ahead but they were frozen.

 The entire deer was stone.

 If he hadn’t known the creature that lived on this mountain, he would have thought it was a beautifully done statue.

 With a deep breath, Phil edged his way around the deer and continued down the path. The further he walked the more statues he saw. There was a snarling fox, an old woman frozen with her mouth open in a scream, and a soldier with his bow raised to fire. Every one of them was frozen in place.

 His heart pounded as he unsheathed his sword. It felt awkward and heavy in his hand but he was ready to meet whatever lurked on this mountain. Finally, he found himself at the mouth of a cave and just stared into the darkness.

 He might have paced back and forth in front of the entrance for far too long before he slowly walked in. A few steps into the cave and Phil was incased in darkness. He squinted his eyes and slowly edged his way in, finally seeing a tiny pinprick of light.

 The room he found himself in actually took his breath away. It was a large hallway with a dust covered marble floor. Candles glowed faintly in several chandeliers, casting a flickering light over the dozens of statues that stood. Animals, humans, and monsters of every shape and size stood frozen around him.

 Carefully, Phil inched his way into the room with his sword at the ready. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he stained his eyes to see any movement. After minutes had passed he started wondering if this creature even existed. What if it had been slain years ago?

 Then a slight movement behind a statue of a bear made his heart jump into his throat. Phil gasped and spun around, smacking straight into a stone troll. His feet slipped on the dust and he went down hard, cracking his head on the ground.

 Instantly it was black.

 The next time Phil opened his eyes everything was still black. He lifted his hand to feel soft fabric wrapped around his head. His head ached and he felt nauseous, swallowing convulsively as he tried to sit up.

 “I wouldn’t do that,” an amused voice called out when he reached to pull off the blindfold. “Not unless you want to be like the little crowd out there.”

 He froze, all his blood turning to ice. The creature was in the room with him. He was in the same room as a Gorgon. Instantly he was terrified of getting even a glimpse of anything around him.

 “So, you’ve come here to kill me? I’ll admit that you are the most pathetic attempt yet,” the Gorgon laughed and despite his fear Phil felt a blush creep across his face.

 He floundered for something to say. “So you waited until I woke up to kill me?”

 “You’re wearing a blindfold moron,” the Gorgon sighed. “I don’t just kill everything in sight.”

 “Tell that to the collection of statues you have outside,” Phil spat back and the monster was actually silent for a beat.

 “If you were just trying to live, not bothering anyone or anything, and soldiers came to your home, what would you do? If the only reason they wanted to kill you was to carry your head through the streets as a trophy, what would you have done? Sometimes the humans are the monsters and the monsters are just…trying to survive in this world,” he finished softly.

 Then Phil was speechless. The monster sounded sad and for a moment Phil actually pitied him. Then, he remembered the graveyard that stood in another room.

 “You’re a killer,” Phil grumbled and the Gorgon huffed.

 “A killer who cared for your wounds,” his voice was low. “A killer who is still allowing you to live despite how rude you are being.”

 “Why?”

 “Why what?”

 “Why are you keeping me alive?” The question had Phil feeling sick. “How do you know I wont just leave and come back with others?”

 The Gorgon was silent for a bit. “You could but you wont. I’m tired and maybe just…I want to help I suppose. Lay down and rest, you had a nasty head wound.”

 Phil heard footsteps and then the sound of a closing door. He remained sitting up, heart racing, as he rent through his options. He could just stay where he was and pray that the creature wouldn’t change his mind, he could fight, or he could sneak out in the middle of the night and run.

 Well…he wasn’t much of a fighter.

 For several hours Phil waited. He wasn’t even sure if Gorgons slept or if the creature wasn’t just waiting for him but he had no choice. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and blinked away the nausea and dizziness.

 The first few steps outside of the room were the most frightened Phil had ever been. The door had opened to a long hallway. Candles flickered in holders along the walls and, most bizarrely, mirrors also hung all along the hall. Anxiety grew as Phil crept down the hall, holding the blindfold in one hand and trailing the other one along the wall.

 He made it maybe halfway down the hall before a flicker of movement reflected in the mirrors made him squeeze his eyes shut. The next thing he knew, he was being slammed into a mirror and the glass cracked loudly.

 A cry of pain ripped from his throat and he heard a grown behind him. “I tried to heal you and you sneak off to bring more soldiers back to kill me?”

 He was pulled back and then slammed into the mirror again. His hands scrambled at the wall and he kept his eyes firmly closed, too terrified to even breathe.

 “You should at least look at the monster you want to kill,” the Gorgon’s hands tightened on his shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

 “No,” Phil whimpered.

 “Open your eyes!” The Gorgon shouted into his ear and Phil’s eyes seemed to snap open on their own.

 At first all he saw in the mirror were his own terrified eyes. A line of blood trickled down from a cut along his hairline, streaking his too pale skin. Then, his eyes moved to the creature behind him. His skin was a very faint green with shining scales glittering on his cheekbones. The eyes that blazed at him were a deep gold with a slitted pupils much like a snake.

 Then, his eyes drifted further up.

 Coiled brown and dark green snakes rested on his eyes, flicking their tongues and swaying.

 The Gorgon was the most terrible, monstrous thing Phil had ever seen and he had honestly never been more scared. His eyes burned from his effort to focus on the mirror and not actually get a glimpse of the monster behind him.

 “Am I the nightmare you imagined?” The Gorgon sneered and tears filled Phil’s eyes.

 “I…I just want to go home,” his voice cracked in the middle and the Gorgon froze.

 The moments passed with them just staring at each other before the Gorgon stepped back, pulling his black robe tight around him. Phil watched his reflection as the Gorgon crumpled in on himself.

 “I’m sorry…I…Gods I’m sorry,” he choked out and Phil felt just pity in that moment. “Just go.”

 “And one of your kind wont be waiting for me?” He felt a little hysterical.

 “There’s no one left. There is no one here but…but me,” the Gorgon finished in a whisper. “So you can go back home.”

 Then, Phil realized why the Gorgon had kept him alive. He was lonely. The creature had no one and nothing around him. The only people who came were the people who wanted to kill him solely for their own fame and fortune.

 “And what will you do?”

 The Gorgon froze and looked at his reflection. “I’ll stay here until someone succeeds on killing me.”

 And now Phil had a decision to make. He could stay with this creature who had shown him kindness even though kindness had never been shown to him. Or, he could return back home where people considered him a coward and no one cared if he even lived or died.

 “Or I can stay with you?” His voice was tiny and the Gorgon stared at him blankly.

 “Why?”

 “Because…maybe humans are monsters and…everyone deserves a friend,” he breathed. “Friends that aren’t made of rock.”

 The Gorgon just stared at him for a long, long moment. The snakes on his head even seemed to lose a bit of their vigor and curled in close to his head. Phil watched the reflection as the Gorgon seemed to fidget and then finally meet his eyes through the mirror.

 “What is your name?” He asked softly.

 “Phillip but everyone I know calls me Phil,” he offered a smile and got one in response. “Do you have a name?”

 That got him a slight glare. “Of course I have a name. It’s Dan.”

 “Nice to meet you Dan,” Phil was tempted to turn around because it felt so strange to speak to someone behind him but he knew the consequences. “So…what happens now?”

 The Gorgon laughed until he was bent over. “I have no earthly idea.”

 The next few days that passed were a bit awkward. They could only speak through doors, if Phil was faced the other way, or if they were both facing a mirror. Phil honestly wasn’t completely sure why he was still here and he could tell that Dan was wondering the same thing.

 He realized that the cave was actually an ancient temple according to Dan. The God that was worshiped here had been forgotten and the temple was abandoned, perfect for someone who was living in seclusion. The temple still had rather nice bedrooms and an extensive library. Overall, it was not the worst living situation.

 Plus, Dan was a good conversationalist and his dry wit was pretty hilarious.

 “So…let me get this right,” Dan spoke up from the other side of a screen as they ate dinner one night. “You came on a quest to kill me in order to be a hero?”

 “I’ve never been a…well, let’s say that I’ve never really brought pride to my family. I wasn’t a warrior or a soldier and I just thought that maybe if I accomplished this I could finally earn some honor for myself and my family,” Phil knew how silly it sounded. “But I hated learning to fight and I hated hunting.”

 A laugh burst from Dan and Phil found himself smiling in response. “So, to avoid bringing dishonor to your family you sneak into a monster’s home by yourself?”

 “That was the plan.” He heard Dan chuckling. “Wouldn’t you do anything to make your family proud?”

 Then there was silence.

 Phil instantly cursed himself. Obviously Dan didn’t have a family, not anymore.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispered and saw a slight movement through the screen. “I didn’t mean-“

 “It’s fine,” Dan’s voice was short. “It’s just been a very long time.”

 For a few long moments Phil went back and forth on if he even wanted to ask. Finally, he made up his mind. “What happened? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

 “I had a family once,” he spoke so softly that Phil had to strain to hear. “My father was a priest in this temple. Then, the god who was worshiped here wasn’t well known but still had some worshipers in the nearby village. One of those worshipers was my mother. She came and as time went by my father and her fell in love.

 Well, as you know gods are jealous and petty. He didn’t appreciate that someone could love someone else more than him and he was running out of worshipers fast. When my mother got pregnant with me he cursed me in revenge and I…was born like…this.”

 “I’m sorry,” Phil breathed and he heard Dan’s shaky inhale.

 “They were the first two people I turned to stone,” he could hear the strain and tears in his voice. “The only other priest here was blind and the kindest man…in the world…he raised me until he died a few years ago and I’ve been alone ever since.”

 Once again, a silence fell between them. Phil couldn’t imagine the guilt that had stayed with Dan for his entire life. He couldn’t imagine the loneliness that had consumed him after everyone he had ever known was gone.

 Then a terrible thought struck him.

 “Your parents…are they here?”

 “No. I destroyed the statues. It seemed like the only kind thing I could do for them,” Phil felt a shudder. The idea of seeing his parents in a frozen state of horror made him feel a little ill. No one deserved what had happened to Dan. He hadn’t even done anything, neither had his parents. It wasn’t fair.

 “You’re a good person Dan,” he finally said.

 It was the most honest thing he could think to say. In his village he was seen as weak and often taunted or teased by others. Phil knew he wasn’t the traditional Greek hero and he never would be but with Dan he felt like someone who actually mattered. Here, he didn’t have to constantly prove himself only to not measure up.

 “You are as well Phil.”

 Weeks passed and Phil honestly could say that he felt more at home than he ever had before. He couldn’t imagine life without Dan reading from some book during breakfast or wandering through the expansive temple. He couldn’t imagine life without seeing Dan’s smile reflected in the mirror. He couldn’t imagine life without the swish of Dan’s robes or the hissing from his snakes.

 And he wasn’t sure when he started seeing Dan differently.

 Instead of focusing on the more monstrous parts of Dan he started seeing the beauty of him. Dan had dimples when he smiled, making him seem more boyish and innocent. Dan’s eyes looked like the beautiful gold jewelry that only the wealthiest could wear. Dan’s laugh and smile made it feel like the sun had just peeked out from behind clouds.

 Their life was good.

 So of course it had to all come crashing down.

 It was late afternoon and Phil was preparing a rabbit for dinner. He had never been much of a cook back home but here he had quickly learned to be a decent chef. Maybe it was because he finally had someone he enjoyed eating with.

 He was halfway through preparing some of the vegetables when a sharp cry of pain rang through the halls. Instantly Phil froze, fear turning his blood to ice. Dan was in trouble, Dan could be hurt. He grabbed the only thing around him that could be a weapon, a kitchen knife, and rushed out of the kitchen.

 Phil was the first to admit he wasn’t a hero but in that moment he didn’t even think of himself.

 Finally, he found Dan in the main room of statues. Three men hovered over him and Dan knelt on the floor. Shields blocked their view and Phil’s, keeping them all safe. One man had a long sword out and Phil’s heart leapt into his throat.

 “Hey!” He shouted and the three men turned towards him.

 “Lester?” The largest man asked in disbelief and Phil felt his heart sink.

 These men were from his village. They were the men who teased him through his childhood and who laughed when he said he was going on a quest to kill a Gorgon. They had probably celebrated when he hadn’t returned home.

 “Get out,” he tried to keep his voice steady and tightened his grip on his knife.

 “This is too rich,” the soldier, Belen, laughed loudly. “You’ve been here this whole time? Why?”

 A slight movement between them made the soldiers slam their feet into Dan and tighten their shields around him, making him groan. It sounded as if Dan was already wounded and the looks of delight on their faces sickened him.

 “He’s no monster, he’s done nothing to you.”

 Damen, the slender soldier to Belen’s right, sneered at him. “You went sweet on him? Have you honestly taken this thing as a lover?”

 The three men laughed loudly and Phil lifted the knife, eyes narrowing. Belen smirked at his companions and slammed his shield downwards before walking towards Phil. The other two men blocked their view of Dan and watched eagerly.

 “We all knew there was something off about you,” Belen swung his sword around and grinned. “Once your family finds out where you’ve really been they’ll be the laughing stock of Greece.”

 “Phil!” Dan cried out, voice garbled. “Run! Get out!”

 Phil knew that Dan could possibly get himself out of this situation. However, if he were to get away from the soldiers then he would put Phil in danger. He stayed there for Phil’s sake.

 Belen swung his sword and easily knocked the knife out of Phil’s hand. Out of desperation Phil tried to charge him but the larger man sliced downwards into Phil’s calf. He cried out in pain and Belen easily grabbed him by the hair and dragged him towards where the others were.

 “Do you look into your lover’s eyes when you fuck?” He cooed, shoving Phil to his knees across from the shields covering Dan. “Run your fingers through his hair?”

 The men laughed and Damen reached in between them. Phil could hear the angry hissing of snakes as he grabbed a handful of them, holding his cloak up to protect himself. The men looked at each other and grinned, looking almost giddy.

 “I do so love that moment when lovers meet each other’s eyes,” Belen said in a sing song voice. He lifted his shield up to his own face. “Let them see each other boys.”

 The shields moved to block their own gaze but opened up to Phil’s. Panic stricken, Phil slammed his eyes shut and turned away. Belen grunted and kicked his side hard.

 “Open your eyes,” the sick parody from the first night with Dan made Phil grit his teeth. “Do it or we will kill him slowly.”

 “Don’t Phil,” Dan hissed and he could hear the singing of a sword being pulled from its sheath.

 “Give him a little poke,” Belen commanded and Dan let out a groan of pain. “Open your eyes. You can either open your eyes now and we’ll behead him, a quick clean death, or we can flay his skin off bit by bit until he dies in agony. Either way, you both die. You just get to choose how.”

 Dan let out a proper cry of pain then and Phil hesitated. There weren’t many options here. After years of pain the last thing Dan deserved was to be tortured to death. He could spare him that last pain.

 “Don’t you dare Phil,” Dan breathed, almost like he could hear his thoughts.

 “I can’t let them hurt you more,” Phil felt slightly hysterical. “It’ll be okay Dan. It’s not your fault.”

 He opened his eyes.

 Phil honestly wasn’t sure what would happen. Would he feel pain as the blood and muscles turned to rock? Would he feel himself slip away? Would he even get to look into Dan’s eyes before he was gone?

 What actually happened was…nothing.

 They stared at each other. Dan’s face was frozen in complete shock, golden eyes wide. The snakes that weren’t in Devan’s grip all froze as well and it felt as if they were in a painting. Nothing around them seemed to move at all.

 For the first time, he was able to look Dan in the eye. They were close enough to even touch. Dan’s chest rose in a breath and when he exhaled he gave him a small, shaky smile.

 “I told you to open your eyes!” Belen shouted and looked down behind his shield. When he saw that Phil’s eyes were open he frowned in confusion and lowered his shield.

 Instantly, the fingers tightened in Phil’s hair and Belen stiffened behind him. He managed to let out a garbled cry before he went perfectly still and silent. Phil wrenched himself forward, wincing as hair was ripped from his scalp and turned to see a statue of Belen behind him.

 Dan jerked himself backwards and knocked the shields away. Both men turned to stone instantly, one unbalanced and crashed to the marble floor in a shower of rubble.

 Then it was silent.

 They just stared at each other for what felt like forever. It was surreal just looking at Dan and not being afraid of turning around. Phil lifted one shaky hand and cupped Dan’s cheek. His skin felt cool and soft, much like the snakes that drifted across the back of his hand.

 “How is this possible?” Dan breathed and Phil shook his head.

 “I don’t honestly care,” he felt a silly grin spread across his face and leaned in to kiss Dan. The Gorgon stiffened and then completely relaxed against him, resting his hands against Phil’s chest. He could feel the feather light touches of the snakes against his temples but didn’t even care.

 When he opened his eyes he was met with Dan’s golden eyes. He pressed his forehead against Dan’s and the two of them just smiled at each other, overwhelmed by everything.

 “Unlike that stupid boy, I actually do love seeing lovers look into each others’ eyes,” a woman’s musical voice startled them both and they jolted apart.

 A truly beautiful woman smiled at them just a few steps away. Her blue eyes danced with humor and her hair fell in golden waves down his back and across her shoulders. She turned to give a quick disgusted look at the stone that was previously Belen and then back to them.

 “You’ve been wronged Daniel,” she continued. “Gods can be petty and foolish, putting their own desires above the ones we are meant to protect. Honestly, we are meant to be greater than humans but often we act too much like them.”

 “Who are you?” Phil demanded, his body starting to tremble from adrenaline.

 “Dear, my name is Aphrodite,” she extended her hands and did a little bow. “And I’ve come to right the wrongs.”

 Dan didn’t say anything but he moved towards Phil, taking his hand.

 “You were cursed because of love and the curse was broken because of love. Gorgons turn creatures to stone because of fear but we can’t fear the ones we love,” she beamed. “And Phillip, you would have risked your life to protect him. Love, in its purest form, is the one thing that can break any curse.”

 She stepped forward and lifted a hand, letting it run through the mess of snakes before resting it on Dan’s cheek. “And you wont be cursed any longer.”

 Dan’s knees crumpled and he would have fallen to the floor. A horrible, garbled choke came from his throat and Phil frantically lay him down. He looked up to see the woman gone but Dan’s cries turned his attention back to him.

 “It burns,” he groaned, writhing in Phil’s arms.

 Unable to do much of anything else, Phil just hushed and held him tightly. Could they have really gone through all this for Dan to die anyway? He looked like he was dying, back bowed and mouth open in a silent scream. Even the snakes on his head twisted in agony.

 Then, the slight green color leeched from his skin. The scales along his cheek bones faded into faint freckles. The snakes continued to coil down further and further until they turned into soft looking curls. When it was finally over, he lay there panting but he was human.

 “Dan,” Phil breathe, hardly able to believe what had just happened.

 It was obvious that the pain had passed but it left Dan panting and trembling. Phil assured Dan he would be right back and then hurried as fast as he could with a wounded leg to the nearby hall and grabbed a mirror off a wall.

 By the time he got back to Dan the other man was sitting up, looking pale but otherwise alright. He shied away from the mirror and then went perfectly still when he finally caught his own reflection. With trembling fingers, Dan reached up and touched his hair. Tears flooded his eyes before he let out a tearful laugh.

 “I can’t believe it,” he laughed, continuing to pull at his own curls.

 Phil nodded, tears running down his own cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling Dan in for another kiss, tangling his fingers in Dan’s soft hair.

 “Do you think of me differently now that I look like this?” The teasing lilt in his voice came through the tears and Phil grinned.

 “You were always beautiful.”

[kravkalackin]

This is kind of a really weird question, but AO3 is blocked on my school wifi and I want to be able to read heartstrings when I have free time during the day, is there any chance you could post new chapters directly to tumblr under a read more?

normally i wouldn’t because the chapters are long, but because you asked, sure. a warning, it won’t have any of the like, formatting (which is really just italics) because i’m too lazy to go back and put those in ^^; but here, chapter 25 of heartstrings is under the cut

Angus wasn’t sure how long he spent crying. He hadn’t meant to break down like that in front of Taako, especially since the thing he thought Angus was all upset about wasn’t even a big deal. It was probably bad of him, to mislead Taako like that and make him think he was all worked up over something so small.

Sure, everything he said was true, he couldn’t died if he didn’t do the spell right. It was super dangerous and stupid and he had to get a ride back up to the moon base anyway so it wasn’t even like it mattered. But it had been fine, and the panic he’d felt when falling down was nothing compared to the utter confusion and uncertainty he was feeling from everything else.

But Taako had been worried about him. And for some reason, even though he had more than enough evidence to prove that Taako cared about him, it was still a surprise.

And Angus was upset. He didn’t know what to do and when Taako told him not to worry him like that again for some reason the damn just broke.

That had been a little while ago now though, he didn’t know how long but it was definitely longer than he thought Taako would put up with. Instead of getting annoyed or trying to pull away though he’d brought Angus to his bed and let him keep crying. Finally though he was starting to get a hold of himself, and trying to hold back anymore tears he reluctantly pulled away some. Not completely out of his lap or anything, just enough to he could rub at his face and try to wipe away some of the tears.

“Sorry about your shirt,” he managed to say after another moment of deep breaths. It was a dumb thing to comment on, but it was the first that he could manage to voice. It looked like a nice one, and Angus remembered that Taako had been out on a date and had probably run over here as soon as he got back. It was all wet and stained now though, but Taako just shrugged.

“Not even a thing bubula,” he said, and grabbing the umbrastaff still hooked around his wrist he cast a quick prestidigitation on both his shirt and Angus’s face. He was sure he still looked all red and puffy, but that actually felt like it helped some. “What’s the point of magic if you’re not gonna use it, am I right?” he added and Angus nodded.

“I guess that’s a fair point,” he said, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He wanted to tell Taako, but he’d made a promise, and he was pretty sure he trusted the Red Robe enough right now that he actually wanted to keep it. Not because he was afraid of what would happen if he broke that promise, but because he wasn’t sure if he should be working against the Red Robe anymore.

He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, and it was eating up his mind and he let his head fall back against Taako’s chest in defeat.

“Sorry for worrying you. It really wasn’t a big deal,” he said, although it felt kind of hallow now. He knew it was hallow, because Taako wouldn’t believe him after all that, not unless he explained what the real problem was. He wasn’t about to do that though, so it all rang false.

“I wasn’t that worried. Avi said you were fine,” Taako said, starting to sound defensive now. That wasn’t a surprise, it was actually kind of a welcomed relief, how normal it was.

“You were wooorried about me,” Angus insisted, trying to tease him despite the way his voice was still kind of horsed and wavering after all of that crying. Taako scoffed, starting to ruffle Angus’s hair a bit rougher than necessary. When Angus tried to push him away it was only halfheartedly.

“Fine, maybe, you don’t fucking know me. See if I ever do it again though, ungrateful brat,” he grumbled, and that was as straight as Taako would ever get to admitting he cared about someone.

Angus didn’t quite have to force the smile on his face so much at that. After a moment he found himself sighing again, rubbing at his eyes and trying to will away the cry induced headache that was already starting to form. Taako started sort of fluffing his hair back in order from where he’d mussed it up before.

“You uh, you good though? Like, we good here? I don’t- fucking surprise of the century here. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing with that,” Taako said, and Angus nodded. He was fine. It was- he was fine.

“I’m good sir. It was- you didn’t have to come see me. I appreciate it though,” he said, figuring Taako was probably going to leave soon now. He didn’t want him to, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He shouldn’t be greedy about this.

“Right yeah well, cha’ boy’s just all kinds of magnanimous and shit as always,” he said, definitely sounding awkward about this, which was starting to settle things back into normal. Angus wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not.

“And uh, hey,” Taako continued, surprising Angus. “Would you quit it with the sir thing already? I’m not a fucking ‘sir’ alright?” he said, and Angus frowned some in confusion.

“Oh, I’m sorry? I didn’t mean- is there something else you’d rather I call you?” he asked, kind of surprised Taako would wait this long to tell him to stop doing something if he didn’t like it.

“Just fucking Taako my dude. Like, I’m not- I’m not some fucking stranger. You don’t  gotta be all formal and shit,” he said, and it took Angus a moment before he understood.

“Oh. Okay Taako,” he said, and Taako nodded.

“Cool, cool, uh, you should get some sleep. Eat, when was the last time you ate?” Taako asked, and Angus crawled the rest of the way off his lap so he could stand up.

“I didn’t um, didn’t get a chance to eat dinner,” he admitted, because he was pretty sure Taako would figure out if he tried to lie anyway.

“Yeah, had a fucking feeling. Just stay here, I’ll bring you something,” he said.

“You don’t have to, I can get something myself,” Angus insisted, but Taako was already heading towards the door.

“Too bad, I’m doing it and you better still be here when I get back,” he said, and Angus relented and nodded. Once he was alone again, Angus took a very long, deep breath, trying to recover from all of that.

It was- It had been a lot. He guessed getting it all out was a good thing though. He was still worried, confused, didn’t know what to do, but some part of him was a lot less panicked. He wasn’t sure if things were going to be okay, and he didn’t know how he was going to figure this out, but he would. He would find something.

It was entirely possible that he was just too exhausted to be panicked though.

A part of him was tempted to lay down and fall asleep, but if Taako was making him food he didn’t want to already be out when he got back. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes for a few minutes.

Angus pulled at his blanket to wrap himself up, hearing a thunk as something he hadn’t noticed fell off his bed and onto the floor. Looking over, a simple umbrella was lying there.

Oh, Taako must’ve forgotten the umbrastaff by mistake.

He knew he should leave the wand alone, it was Taako’s and he was very protective of it. Still, after all of this, Angus still felt like he didn’t have much of a clue about this thing. He’d been trying to learn about it, but he still only knew that it belonged to the Red Robe who died in Wave Echo Cave, who was close to the nice Red Robe. He didn’t know why it sometimes acted on its own or anything like that.

It was frustrating, and he wanted some sort of answer already.

Reaching over, Angus picked it up by the handle and settled back down on his bed. It was a little too large for him to wield properly, especially as an actual arcane focus. It would make a pretty decent actual umbrella though, if he was ever stuck out in the rain.

It really did seem like a normal umbrella, and when he inspected it closer, it seemed like a pretty simple arcane focus. He couldn’t get why there would be something so odd with it.

Taako had been worried about him touching it too much before, but it seemed fine right now. He wondered- he knew Taako would get annoyed at him for using it, but he wondered if that would give him any clues. If maybe there was something there that Taako had never thought to mention to him before.

And really, right now he needed a distraction. Something to keep his mind occupied until Taako got back so that he wouldn’t either get himself all worked up or end up falling asleep.

So, raising up the umbrastaff, he pointed it over to where he’d kept several candles on his desk, Angus went through the motions to cast a quick prestidigitation to light them.

Prestidigitation was not what came out of the umbrastaff.

It was a spell he’d seen before, but not one that he’d ever cast himself, because he didn’t know how to cast it.

Scorching ray shot out of the umbrastaff and into his desk, and he felt the wand start to jerk his hand around on its own. Shouting in surprise, he dropped the staff, the umbrella twitching on his bed as it continued to shoot off the spell.

“What the fuck?”

Angus’s head shot towards the door where Taako was now standing, and the spell slowly petered out. If it had been trying to make some sort of mark like last time it hadn’t managed to. It’d gotten half of a few lines that couldn’t been any number of letters before scrambling out into flaming scribbles, some of them going so far as to cut through the wall. His desk was also on fire, along with any of the notes he’d been keeping there and several of his books.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” Angus managed to shout, tears already starting to come back. Taako quickly grabbed up the umbrastaff, shooting off a few quick spells to get rid of the flames. As soon as they were gone, cool air was starting to blow in from the outside. Angus couldn’t see what food it was he’d brought for him, because he’d dropped the plate and it broke on the floor.

“I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what I’m doing,” he repeated, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to hide his crying as much as possible.

“Fuck, it’s not- how��d you even get the umbrastaff?” Taako asked, and Angus couldn’t quite place was emotion was in his voice right then.

“You left it by accident. I’m sorry, I didn’t notice until after you left. I swear I didn’t take it on purpose,” he said, and Taako sighed heavily.

“Didn’t think you stole it Ango, you’re too much of a goody-two-shoes for that,” he said, and that was somewhat of a relief to hear. Peaking up from where he had his head buried up in his legs to see Taako walking over to the disaster area that was his desk. “Yikes,” he said, picking up one book and it crumbled away into ash in his hand.

He wasn’t quite able to keep in the whimper that escaped him at that sight. It was- they were just books, they were probably replaceable. Except he’d taken most of those from the library, and the Director was going to be upset when she found out what happened.

And all of his notes. He could rewrite them, it would be fine, but they were- it was just-

He could feel himself start to tear up again, and he guessed Taako noticed because he quickly stopped poking around in the charred rubble and turned back towards him.

“Nope, no more of that. I’m not dealing with anymore of- fuck I’m tired,” Taako said, and Angus sniffled, trying to fight back the tears some more. “Come up, get up. Grab your blanket, and fuck, I don’t know, whatever else you need to sleep,” he added. Angus frowned in confusion, rubbing away several loose tears before looking up at him.

“Um, why si- Taako?” he managed to catch himself at the last minute.

“I mean, you can’t exactly sleep in here. Your room’s busted. Come on, we’ve got a couch. We’ll think of something to tell the director about this mess in the morning,” he said, and reluctantly Angus nodded. Gathering up his blanket, pillow and pajamas, Angus figured that was enough. His wand was still hanging around his neck, he’d never bothered to take it off after all of that, or else he would’ve grabbed that too.

“I think I’m good,” he said, and Taako nodded.

“Alright, come on then Pumpkin,” Taako said. Angus started following him out of the room, stepping over the broken plate of food and closing the door behind him before hesitating. It took him a second before he could place what it was that caught his attention, and by the time he did Taako had stopped walking about was looking back at him, barely noticeable concern on his face.

“Hey pumpkin, everything good?” he asked, and Angus forced himself to nod. His mind was trying to work around the static again.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. You just um, you reminded me of someone for a second there,” he said, and Taako seemed confused for a moment before shrugging it off.

“Huh, someone cool I hope,” he said, and Angus had to shuffle the items in his arms as he sped up to keep pace with Taako.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I think it’s probably a big dork,” he said, letting himself smile despite the gravity of information he was keeping from Taako.

“Brat,” he grumbled, clearly not meaning it. “What, did I remind you of yourself?” he asked, and Angus had to keep himself from making any too noticeable signs when static started to overtake his mind again.

“No, no I don’t think that’s it,” he said. Taako looked hesitant for a moment, but didn’t press him on it.

Angus told himself that was a relief. Not talking about this was a good thing, as much as he wished otherwise.

—

It didn’t take long to get Angus back to his dorm, fix him up a second meal since the first one was toast on his floor, and shove him to his room to go sleep. There was a bit of an argument where Angus started insisting he could sleep on the couch, but shut that down with the fact that he was a whole elf, if he needed to he could mediate. It didn’t seem to satisfy the kid much, but it got him to agree and head off to sleep.

As soon a the door to his bedroom was shut and Taako was alone he fucking collapsed onto the couch.

What the absolute fuck?

A part of him was pissed about all of this. It was complete and utter bullshit. He never asked for any of this, and he’d never fucking wanted it. He didn’t even know what this was.

He wasn’t mad at Angus though, for some reason that definitely wasn’t what was going on here. He didn’t want Angus to think that either, and honestly that was even more frustration on top of everything.

Shifting somewhat to get more comfortable on the couch, he felt where the umbrastaff was hooked around his arm. Grabbing it, he held it up above him, and he wasn’t even drunk this time but he still found himself speaking out loud like a dumbass.

“You could’ve fucking hurt him, you know that?” he asked the umbrella, and of course, there wasn’t any sort of answer. “Don’t- don’t fucking do that again. Freak out with me all you want, but leave the kid alone,” he finished.

Something in his gut flipped uneasily as he spoke, but he ignored that. He was good at ignoring things, even if it seemed like he’d gotten shitty at it lately. Instead of saying anything else he let the umbrastaff drop to the floor and flipped around so his face was kind of smushed into the side of the couch.

Tonight had been such a nice night too. So much for that.

Taako wasn’t quite able to sleep, and he couldn’t meditate much either, and he was pretty damn sure the couch wasn’t to blame for that one.

The next morning he wasn’t exactly surprised when Merle and Magnus came stumbling out of their rooms bright and early for training. They both seemed kind of surprised to find him out on the couch, but they thankfully didn’t fucking question it. He didn’t explain it either, instead quickly ducking into his room to grab some shit to change into because he was not training in day old date clothes. Angus was passed the fuck out when he went inside, which was more of a relief that he’d want to admit. Maybe he’d wake up before they got back and leave and they wouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit.

Taako doubted it would be that simple, but whatever, he could hope.

Grabbing his clothes, he ducked into their bathroom to get changed and wipe off the day old makeup before heading out to the training area with Merle and Magnus.

“So uh, long night buddy?” Magnus asked as they walked, and Taako grumbled, not in the mood to explain.

“Maybe, I don’t gotta tell you, you’re not my dad,” he insisted.

“Oh! What about me?” Merle piped up, and Taako rolled his eyes that that.

“Closer, but no,” he said, and thankfully that seemed to be the end of that. It was mainly because they got to the training area then and the Director started running them through the shit.

It was just as rough and impersonal as they had been since they’d gotten the chalice. Taako wasn’t sure what had gotten the Director all like this, but it was pretty annoying. It wouldn’t bother him too much, he didn’t need to be friends with his boss after all, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was gonna have to tell her some shit he’d really rather not today.

He could leave it for Angus to do, but like, he was already here, so it wasn’t a big deal.

So, once training was over and the Director started excusing herself to leave Taako run over, cutting her off before she could leave. Merle and Magnus were already heading over to the showers, so he wouldn’t have to deal with them asking questions with all this. Small miracles.

“Hey um, Madame Director, you like, got a minute?” he asked, and she seemed surprised but nodded, turning back towards him.

“Of course, do you need something Taako?” she asked, still sounding all formal like she had been lately.

“Uh, not not me. Taako’s good, but uh, since I’m here I thought I’d let you know that the boy wonder needs a new room. Or like, needs his room fixed,” he said, and the Director wasn’t an easy lady to read. Even still, he could see a flash of several emotions cross her face before she went back to her deadpan, mostly confusion and worry.

“Is- I’m sorry. What’s wrong with the room Angus is currently staying in?” she asked, in that way that clearly meant ‘and how did you break the thing this time?’

“Uh, well it was on fire, only a bit, and some parts of the wall aren’t really wall anymore. Also some of the books he might’ve had from the library probably aren’t in the best shape anymore either,” he said.

“What happened?” the Director asked, sounding some mix of angry and horrified. “Where’s- is Angus alright?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah no, let the brat spend the night in my room instead, he’s probably still asleep. It was uh, a magic lesson malfunction. Uh, totally my fault, that one was on Taako. I can probably fix most of, like, most of it. The books are toast though there’s no getting those back,” he explained. The Director nodded before taking a deep breath.

“We’ll get his room fixed and figure out which books were lost, it’s not an issue. Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” she said.

“Okay, cool, uh, catch you later then,” he said, starting to leave.

“Oh, and Taako?” the Director called, stopping him before he could get far.

“Yeah?” he asked, not really liking this situation any.

“I’m glad you care about Angus enough to try to cover for him, but if anything else like this happens again I would appreciate getting the full, true story,” she said, and Taako found himself nodding despite himself.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled before speeding out of the training area.

He meant to go straight back to his room and fucking hide until he absolutely could not anymore, but he found himself heading in a beeline to Angus’s instead.

He didn’t know what the kid was up to, but he knew he was up to something, and whatever it was it was a big enough secret that he wouldn’t even tell Taako. Slipping inside, he almost didn’t manage to step over the plate of old food before heading over to the mangled desk and bookshelf.

Flipping through his shit, Taako grabbed every notebook and paper that was recoverable and hand written. He was sure most of this was garbage little ‘who’s been breaking into the cafeteria at night to eat the day old muffins before they were thrown out? Surprise surprise, fucking Magnus’ but he couldn’t be too careful.

Once he was sure he had everything Taako started back to his room, stack of notebooks and papers in tow before the clean up crew could arrive.

He didn’t know what Angus was doing, but he knew it was important to him, and probably dangerous. So he wasn’t going to chance some nobody looking through his stuff and ruining it.

Taako was pretty tempted to look himself, but kept himself from giving in.

Angus would explain it to him when he was ready.

He trusted him enough to do that.

—

Lup was getting desperate.

She needed to get the fuck out of here.

It was too much, too painful to sit back and watch. It wasn’t that it was all bad, no, a lot of things seemed to be better. Taako was being better, there was a noticeable difference in him lately, and it was a good thing. He was letting himself get close to people again, and it was such a relief.

Even though he couldn’t remember, even though he had no idea of the truth, he was starting to try to be there for Angus, and that meant the world for her to see.

But that didn’t lessen the ever growing desperation to escape already.

Angus was getting up to something, she could tell he was, and so could Taako. She didn’t- she wasn’t worried about him finding ‘the red robes’ like Taako was. If anything, she wished she could be there when he did. She’d kill for a chance to get to see Barry again, just for a moment. He’d probably do anything for a chance to see Angus too, so on that front, she was kind of hoping Angus would manage to find him.

So yeah, that wasn’t the issue. Angus was so smart, and she was so proud of him for that, but it was obvious this was too much. She could see in the way he tried to deflect in, the same way Barry  used to, that this was bothering him more than he would ever admit. She could see her son, a fucking child who shouldn’t have to deal with any of this, being overwhelmed by a mystery that at it’s base was impossible for him to solve.

And so she wanted out. She wanted to explain the truth to Angus. She wanted to remind her brother she existed. She wanted to help Barry, who’d been trapped on his own for ten years.

She wanted to ask Lucretia why she felt she needed to completely tear apart her family.

And after hearing Angus sobbing against Taako for a time she couldn’t place, since time had stopped meaning much to her a while ago, she couldn’t just sit silent anymore.

It was only when she heard Taako shouting and Angus near tears again did she realize what a mistake she’d made. The message that she’d been trying to send was a scattered mess, a ‘B’ barely recognizable before dissolving off into squiggles of nothing. All of her energy was expended on a broken message no one would be able to get.

She could barely focus on anything after that, barely heard Taako scolding her for endangering Angus. The only thing she could think of was how close she’d been. If she’d waited a little bit longer, been a bit more patient, she could’ve gotten through. They were both so smart, even with this block, if she’d gotten her message through, she was sure they would’ve figured it out.

But she hadn’t, and the words she’d desperately been trying to send her family kept replaying over and over in her head.

B R E A K M E

[dailybiblelessons]

Friday: Preparation for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Revised Common Lectionary Proper 20 Roman Catholic Proper 25

More information about the complementary and semi-continuous

series is here: Which Series?

Complementary Hebrew Scripture: Nahum 2:3-13

The shields of his warriors are red;  his soldiers are clothed in crimson. The metal on the chariots flashes  on the day when he musters them;  the chargers prance. The chariots race madly through the streets,  they rush to and fro through the squares; their appearance is like torches,  they dart like lightning. He calls his officers;  they stumble as they come forward; they hasten to the wall,  and the mantelet¹ is set up. The river gates are opened,  the palace trembles. It is decreed that the city be exiled,  its slave women led away, moaning like doves  and beating their breasts. Nineveh is like a pool  whose waters run away. “Halt! Halt!”—  but no one turns back. “Plunder the silver,  plunder the gold! There is no end of treasure!  An abundance of every precious thing!”

Devastation, desolation, and destruction!  Hearts faint and knees tremble, all loins quake,  all faces grow pale! What became of the lions' den,  the cave of the young lions, where the lion goes,  and the lion's cubs, with no one to disturb them? The lion has torn enough for his whelps  and strangled prey for his lionesses; he has filled his caves with prey  and his dens with torn flesh.

See, I am against you, says the Lord of hosts, and I will burn your chariots in smoke, and the sword shall devour your young lions; I will cut off your prey from the earth, and the voice of your messengers shall be heard no more.

¹A mantelet is a moveable shelter used for protection when attacking or being attacked.

Semi-continuous Hebrew Scripture Torah Lesson: Exodus 16:1-21

The whole congregation of the Israelites set out from Elim; and Israel came to the wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had departed from the land of Egypt. The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”

Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather on other days.” So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, “In the evening you shall know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your complaining against the Lord. For what are we, that you complain against us?” And Moses said, “When the Lord gives you meat to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning, because the Lord has heard the complaining that you utter against him–what are we? Your complaining is not against us but against the Lord.” 

Then Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, ‘Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.’” And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said, “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’”

In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat. This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Gather as much of it as each of you needs, an omer to a person according to the number of persons, all providing for those in their own tents.’” The Israelites did so, some gathering more, some less. But when they measured it with an omer, those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed.¹ And Moses said to them, “Let no one leave any of it over until morning.” But they did not listen to Moses; some left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and became foul. And Moses was angry with them. Morning by morning they gathered it, as much as each needed; but when the sun grew hot, it melted.

¹This verse is quoted in 2 Corinthians 8:15, part of a passage encouraging generosity.

Complementary Psalm 145:1-8

I will extol you, my God and King,  and bless your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless you,  and praise your name forever and ever. Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;  his greatness is unsearchable.

One generation shall laud your works to another,  and shall declare your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of your majesty,  and on your wondrous works, I will meditate. The might of your awesome deeds shall be proclaimed,  and I will declare your greatness. They shall celebrate the fame of your abundant goodness,  and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

The Lord is gracious and merciful,  slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

Semi-continuous Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45

O give thanks to the Lord, call on his name,  make known his deeds among the peoples. Sing to him, sing praises to him;  tell of all his wonderful works. Glory in his holy name;  let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Seek the Lord and his strength;  seek his presence continually. Remember the wonderful works he has done,  his miracles, and the judgments he uttered, O offspring of his servant Abraham,  children of Jacob, his chosen ones.¹

Then he brought Israel out with silver and gold,  and there was no one among their tribes who stumbled. Egypt was glad when they departed,  for dread of them had fallen upon it. He spread a cloud for a covering,  and fire to give light by night.

They asked, and he brought quails,  and gave them food from heaven in abundance. He opened the rock, and water gushed out;  it flowed through the desert like a river. For he remembered his holy promise,  and Abraham, his servant.

So he brought his people out with joy,  his chosen ones with singing. He gave them the lands of the nations,  and they took possession of the wealth of the peoples, that they might keep his statutes  and observe his laws. Praise the Lord!

¹Paul, in Romans 9:7, writes that the descendants of Isaac are the true children of Abraham. This is part of a passage on God's election of Israel.

New Testament Epistle Lesson: 2 Corinthians 13:5-10

Examine yourselves to see whether you are living in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not realize that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless, indeed, you fail to meet the test! I hope you will find out that we have not failed. But we pray to God that you may not do anything wrong—not that we may appear to have met the test, but that you may do what is right, though we may seem to have failed. For we cannot do anything against the truth, but only for the truth. For we rejoice when we are weak and you are strong. This is what we pray for, that you may become perfect. So I write these things while I am away from you, so that when I come, I may not have to be severe in using the authority that the Lord has given me for building up and not for tearing down.

Year A Ordinary 25, RCL Proper 20, Catholic Proper 25 Friday

Selections are from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings copyright © 1995 by the Consultation on Common Texts. Unless otherwise indicated, Bible text is from New Revised Standard Version Bible (NRSV) copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Image credit: The Desperate Man by Gustave Courbet via Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons 0 license.

[shewholovestoread]

Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 6 - Beyond the Wall

So, i finally caved.. I thought I would wait for the episode to air but the temptation was too great. This season feels more and more like it’s devolving and that’s not a good thing. The writing seems to have gone from bad to worse with characters being dumbed-down and some straight-up being ruined.

Now, I will discuss the episode here so all my thoughts are under the cut.

Let’s start with the world’s dumbest idea ever, get a wight south of the wall. I’m stunned that Tyrion thought this was a good idea and that Jon decided to go on the hunt. He’s a king for crying out loud, his people need him alive, not frozen to death somewhere or worse, undead, under the Night King’s thrall. The sheer amount of things that could have gone wrong were through of the roof. I’m sorry Davos, but you need to be doing a better job when it comes to advising your king, the one you’re supposed to help survive.

And then hooray! they got one wight and lost good men and a dragon in the process, I’m not sure I would call that a fair trade. That Dragon is now under the Night King’s control and is about to become a royal pain in the ass! Ugh!! The stupidity is astounding!

I did like Dany in this episode. I don’t much care for the Jon x Dany relationship that’s being shoved down our throats but it’s okay, I’ll live. I did like that she doesn’t completely rely on Tyrion’s advice. I love Tyrion but not doing anything was not sound advice. As Dany stated, her inaction already cost her Dorne and Highgarden, she wasn’t about to lose a potential alliance with the King in the North.

On a side note, there seems to some space-time issues with this season. How did Dany and her dragons get to Jon and his men so quickly? Can dragons also teleport? It made no sense.

We have the boatbang! to look forward to next episode an honestly, I don’t care either way. First off, how and why is Dany suddenly in love with Jon? They’ve hardly spent any time together and when they were, they always viewed each other with wariness. Besides, I thought she was too busy on her mission to get together with yet another guy.

And need I remind you that they are both Targs and Dany’s primary goal is to sit on the Iron Throne, she will tolerate no competition. Also Jon’s Targ status puts his kinghsip in serious jeopardy. The Northern Lords DO NOT like the Targs, they don’t trust them. They will not be happy that he bent his knee and worse, expects them to do the same. Even Sansa will have a tough time accepting this. This is Jon’s shortcoming, his inability to see that the people he claims to lead might be unhappy and dissatisfied with his decisions. What’s his plan should they refuse to bend their knee? He can’t very well force them to, he doesn’t have a personal army to get them to threaten them into agreeing with him. They don’t like Dany, a foreign invader and they will trust Jon even less when his true lineage is revealed.

The whole Sansa vs Arya plot is so annoying and exceptionally badly written. It makes no sense for the sisters to be fighting. Neither one of them is who they were all those years ago. They’ve both changed and in ways that neither of them foresaw. Arya, at least, knew she wanted to be an assassin and trained for it. But Sansa? Humiliated, raped and tortured. The ONLY reason she survived was because she was smart. She wasn’t wrong when she said that Arya would not have survived KL as she did just as it is true that Sansa could not survived the training that Arya underwent. They both went through horrible things but where Arya chose her path, Sansa didn’t get the same luxury.

We, the audience know that LF is playing the two sisters against each other. He wants to isolate Sansa and for a second I thought it worked when she went to him to ask him about the letter. But I still think that Sansa hasn’t fallen for his games even though Arya seems to have. He mentions Brienne and that in a conflict between the two sisters, Brienne would be honour-bound to intercede. One would think that with the intensity of the conflict between the two sisters, it would make sense to have her there. Instead, Sansa sends her away. Why do that unless she wanted her far away so she wouldn’t get sucked into LF’s schemes. Think about it, having Brienne by her side makes her stronger because so long as Brienne is with her, it would give Arya pause because she too likes her.

I think the scene where Sansa and LF are talking, Sansa is trying to gauge LF’s true motives. She’s also trying to gather where Arya might have gotten the letter from and she confirmed her suspicions about him. Why would LF keep that particular letter when it serves no purpose, except it puts Sansa in a precarious position.

The second scene with Arya and Sansa was especially painful to watch. You could see the horror on Sansa’s face and the fear. She honestly thought that Arya was going to kill her and wear her face. UGH! Both Sophie Turner and Maisie Williams are so good in that scene. Also when did Arya turn into a certifiable psychopath that she would threaten her own sister. Come on D & D!! This is some shitty writing and conflict for the sake of conflict. Seeing these two women who have gone through so much and are finally together and instead of banding together and supporting each other, they are at each others’ throats.

*Also, Bran, feel free to jump in anytime what with you being the all-seeing Three-Eyed Raven and what not. How can he not see what’s happening right under his nose. LF is playing his sisters against each other while he continues to brood in his chair.*

But the bit that threw me off was when Arya gave the Valerian steel dagger to Sansa. One way of looking at it was Arya telling her that she could have the dagger but it wouldn’t help her, Sansa would never see her coming. But that’s not how the scene was played. The handing over suddenly breaks the tension and you can see the confusion on Sansa’s face. She doesn’t see it as a tool of defense against Arya. She has no idea why Arya handed it over.

Which leads me think that it will be Sansa who will kill LF with the Valerian steel dagger. LF tried to give it to Bran who in turn gave it to Arya and who finally handed it over to Sansa. We also have her dialogue from the trailer, “The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.”  Of course, I could be wrong, but in that case, it makes no sense for Sansa to have the dagger. She’s not one to wield a weapon, her weapons of choice are her wits. But for LF, she’s going to make an exception. She was the one who ordered Ramsay's death and even stood and watched as his own dogs ate him alive. But with LF, things will get even more personal, he was instrumental in Ned’s death and got the whole thing rolling. He is personally responsible for Sansa’s rape at Ramsay’s hands. It would be poetic justice for her to kill him. All the while looking into his eyes and seeing as he finally realises that he’s been outplayed with Arya standing behind her, a smug smile on her face. I need this to happen. I need Arya and Sansa to be a unified front and fuck anyone who tries to fuck with the Starks.

P.S. - I love that little head tilt that Sansa does when she’s trying to be brave. It gets me every time.

[towncalledkingdom]

I had not even been in the Tower for a week when my mind broke. The smell of the previous Watchman- so recently the indication of life, now the steady spector of decay- permeated every corner of the open room. I left his sheets standing in the wash water for days, sleeping beneath his old, thick blanket. A single crate of food was dropped through the ceiling trapped door the day after I was imprisoned, but I did not see who brought it. I lay as if dreaming on the mattress, fighting down paranoia and nausea as day and night passed unnoticed outside the thick glass windows.

It was hunger that finally dragged me from my stupor. I’d spent three days between the mattress and the toilet, occasionally sticking my face beneath the sink faucet for a drink. Old sweat and the stink of the same clothes I still wore made my stomach turn as I pried off the wooden lid of the crate. Dried meat and vegetables had been neatly arranged inside. I would soon learn that this would be my new diet- dried produce and meat, sometimes nuts. They would not be sending anything fresh for fear of rot in the Tower. I would not be brought down if I was sick; no one would set my bones to heal if they broke. Whoever was sending my meals would simply wait until I died and replace me with another Watchman. This, at least, was common knowledge.

As I ate my first meal my attention went to the room for the first time. I had been so focused on my fear, so absorbed in my own head that the physical space and objects had been nearly invisible to me. I saw them, then. The remnants of the Watchmen’s collective madness. Deep gouges lined the floor around the toilet and stories drawn in pictograph had been etched into the ceiling. Nearly every available surface was lined with them- the tales and observations of my predecessors. Some looked like cave paintings or hieroglyphic murals. It appeared that one Watchman had claimed a single floorboard and carved his story into it in tiny flowing script. Other, more stable Watchmen had recorded their thoughts in one of the hundreds of notebooks stacked beneath a desk. It was a black plastic object, however, that ultimately drew me back to reality.

A blocky tape recorder sat on the counter next to the old Watchman’s spoiling sheets, an artifact like any other technology brought in from the outside world. I’d seen one once before during a delivery visit to the Philosophist sector of the Church of M. Worshippers had crowded around the device then, fielding an endless stream of questions off of each other. What does it do? How does it work? Who did it come from? They’d found a way to power the device and pressed its many buttons until sounds began to emerge from its fuzzy speaker. Music filled the triangular room that day, and everyone grew quiet, reverently listening to “Overkill”- some rock n’ roll band from the outside world.

I assumed that I would again hear rock music when I pressed a button on my own tape recorder. I heard a click and the button flung back into place. I pressed a different button, one with a backwards arrow, and watched as the black ribbon of the tape wound itself onto its other wheel. I pressed play again. A man’s terrified voice exploded from the speaker, startling me so hard I nearly fell to the ground. I had not yet learned the value or purpose of the volume switch. Instead, I sat back on my bed and gnawed at my beef jerky, allowing the man’s words to wash over me.

“This is Stuart Wells, the Watchman,” the tape began after a long fit of coughing. “I am recording this because I don’t know where else to turn. I believe that someone is coming to kill me.” The man’s voice rose an octave and cracked several times like a boy going through puberty, though the body I’d seen had been around my father’s age. He cleared his throat again and tried to calm himself. “There is an armed man coming toward the Fire Tower as I speak. I know this man. He is carrying a Privateer tranquilizer gun and a small bottle of something on his belt. He is large and strong with steel gray hair and deep lines in his face. I would fear naming him, but at this point it may no longer matter. He is at the base of the Tower. No one should be at the base of the Tower in the middle of the night. No one should be climbing the ladder unless they are bringing my supplies. If these are my last words, let them serve as a warning to the one that follows me: find a way out. Don’t let Kingdom raise you up just to cut you down. Break down the walls if you can. Destroy the evil we have created. Don’t die alone in this wretched Tower!“

Stuart’s voice stopped abruptly. A light tapping came from somewhere in the distance. The trapped door creaked on its hinges.

“I don’t suppose it matters now if you speak to me, does it?” the Watchman shouted, probably more for the benefit of his recording than for the person listening.

Another man answered him, his voice low and cold, “This isn’t personal, Stuart. All these years climbing this same ladder, I wish we could have spoken before. I never wanted it to be this way.”

“And yet you turn the wheel,” Stuart sighed. “What are you going to do? Knock me out and put something down my throat? Claim I got sick up here and passed on? Then what, oh mighty Warden? What’s your big plan?”

The man’s voice didn’t change. "You probably saw me putting everything together before I began my walk over here. We can cut the debate. In another life I’d let you write down some last words, but you understand that I can’t.”

“In another life you wouldn’t have let that woman poison our land,” Stuart scoffed.

“Kingdom has always been poison. There is no happiness here.” The Warden sounded mournful, apologetic.

“That’s not what I’ve seen,” challenged Stuart. “You think because you’re life has gone to shit that everyone else’s happiness is irrelevant? You think that every laughing kid and every land-loving farmer feels the way you do?”

“It doesn’t matter how they feel, I have to do this. It’s the only way. I need… I need to replace you.”

The men were silent for a few moments. One began to sob quietly. Stuart finally found his voice. “And you think you can put someone in here without the Council’s permission? You think you can just blow right by the choosing ceremony and throw whoever you please in here?”

“The Council will do as I say,” the Warden bristled. “I’ve spent years guiding them toward this. No one will say a word about it.”

Stuart paused as if considering. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to stop you.”

“No, Watchman, I don’t suppose there is.”

Something clicked. Furniture crashed to the floor. An object hissed through the air and Stuart cried out. “It was Monroe!” he screamed. “Warden Robert Monroe murdered me! He murdered me!” The Watchman’s voice slowed, quieted, and finally stopped. Metal clanged. Something heavy landing on the floor. Footsteps and then a horrible, muffled choking.

“Hello, Eli,” said my father, speaking to me through the tape. "I have to say I didn’t expect things to work this way, but I did what had to be done. Things are getting bad with Eleanor, worse than you will ever know. I’m not a good man, son. I’m a terrible father, I know that. But I want you to live. I want you to understand this place, and if there’s anyone alive who can reverse this downward spiral, it’s you. Kingdom must survive, but first we have to break it. We’ve become backwards, comfortable in our ignorance. Our culture teeters on the verge of the abyss and we blissfully dance along it. I don’t know how events will play out in the weeks to come. I don’t know when or if you will listen to this, it may be the last time you hear my voice.”

Emotion choked my father’s voice for a moment and passed as if it had never been. “I am leaving you two gifts, son. After I leave you here it will be your responsibility to live, and to decide what to do with what I’ve left you. You will find the first sitting on the uppermost shelf in the cabinet. It is notebook with a list of all of Kingdom’s leaders and their spheres of influence, their attitudes toward each other as best I know. I’ve filled the rest with every detail I could think to write about our town. With a little luck you can join my knowledge with the documented information passed down by previous Watchmen.”

“My second gift is highly illegal and must be used with caution. Look at your bed. With your eyes trace a straight line from where you would lay your head to the wall beyond. I am installing a speakerbox there. I am leaving you a gift no Watchman has ever been given before- the gift of communication. I’ve arranged things so that no one will visit the room after I leave, this should be fairly easy to get away with. The box will only reach one person in Kingdom, son. It is up to you and that person to decide how you will proceed. Do not try to contact us. Do not try to contact your siblings. The person has been given strict orders to ignore such liabilities.”

“Phylla holds power because of their physical prowess. Eleanor and I control trade and the loved ones of many of Kingdom’s elite. The Church of M can often move the common man to their will, they can inspire a simple farmer to revolution should they wish to. Smoke University guides the town’s narrative and aims research for Kingdom’s future, and the Apothequarium may be the single entity standing between a person’s life or death. Most know and respect the workings of these factions. But they will not know you. They will look into the cameras hidden in their homes and wonder if you are staring back. You will be the phantom in the alley, the shadow in the woods, the tapping in their ceilings. You will rule coincidence. You will be the eyes of an intangible being, Eli, but eyes are useless without a body. I will give you the first piece of that body- I will give you a mouth. Find the other parts. When you are ready, when you have found your mind once more, go to the speakerbox and whisper a single word: Mercury.”

[hannahjoy12103-blog]

So my friend @elianadiana1106 is known to say some weird things. Here are 200 of them:

1. Snow be gonner 2. Cars are weird. Its like a room full of couches that moves. 3. Ok. But what are mailboxes. Its like. A mailbox is a box that humans that dont know you will send you stuff. And its socially unacceptable to open someone elses box but why?WHY WHY IS THAT? WHY IS IT UNACCEPTABLE TO OPEN SOMEONE ELSES BOX? 4. Names. Are a random selection of words. Like hannah. Ellie. Alicia. Why alicia. Why. 5. When i was little i was scared of fences. 6. One time isa was chasing me with a toad i named him fred and she made me hold him and if i didnt shed make him pee on me. 7. Lockers are tiny closets 8. Why arent electronic library cards a thing yet 9. Sometimes i wonder what life would be like without cupcakes and i cry 10. Scary guys scare me 11. You know what should be illegal? Pinapple on pizza. 12. What are houses. Theyre like caves but not. 13. Bears are scary. Theyre like giant dogs with teeth and claws. 14. It was a car except it wasnt a car. 15. Not that i know what a crying cat sounds like 16. *puts glasses in mouth* *bites down* ow 17. Whats a brain tho. Its like a box but its not a box. Its an oval. And it has all of your memories and your conscience in it and if you hit it too hard you do. 18. What is the purpose of eyebrows. I dont see an actual use for them except making sure they are on fleek. 19. I was in my living room and then my brother came in and punched me. 20. Why do people have hair. Does it protect them from being cold or something 21. What if there are aliens on earth but they look just like look just like humans so we cant differentiate 22. Why do colors clash. Why do some colors look good together and others dont. What if my red is your blue. 23. What happens if someone eats a phone 24. *sings veggie tales song* that reminds me of swedish men 25. Is that a trampoline?? Oh wait no thats my reflection nevermind 26. Glasses are like hey whats up i cant see anything so let me just put up this piece of glass in front of my eye so i can see. And tadaah the glasses were born 27. *looks out the window* Oh hey such niceness 28. *hits her head on the window* im a mess *hits her head on bus seat* owwwwww 29. Someone is calling my name *looks up* is it you god?? 30. Look its my favorite emoji because it reminds me of a gorilla (shes talking about this one>😤) 31. Bushes are like baby trees except they dont grow up 32. Speaking of scarring, The lion king made me cry 33. Why do people wear bright colored bookbags 34. Windows are like eyes into the home 35. Im twelve. Oh wait i lied no im thirteen. 36. I know how to Karate 37. Look im wearing fuzzy. Theyre the best of all pants. No other pants can compare 38. *is talking to Isa through a door* Well if yuh wanna talk to me, just pick the lock. Cuz apparently, you can do that 39. Mom wants me and mom is above you 40. I like busses. Theyre like catterpillars. Theyre long and they roll along 41. What if my chin had eyes 42. What id your eyes were your nostrils and your nostrils were your eyes 43. Im short. Kinda like a pudgy cupcake 44. Pigs are like cows except they give out milk. 45. Shut up and pretend im smart 46. Shut up and let me talk 47. *discusses the possibilities of rainbow snow* rain snow. Its like rainbow but its. Its smart appreciate it. 48. Help i need life alert 49. I rip out my hair for fun sometimes 50. Im pretty sure shes austrian. I dont know why. Just. Austrian. 51. Is this cold. *touches it* Oh yes very cold. 52. I know everything 53. Have you ever been a murder gorilla before? 54. Blue raspberry isnt even a thing. What are they feeding us?! 55. One time i ate a cat. But i didnt like it very much 56. I need to think of something funny to say. Becuase i like to make things funny. 57. So garbage cans are like portable dumpsters 58. What if theres a dimension where instead of there being people and it snowing, theres snow people and it rains flesh 59. Dying wasnt on my bucket list 60. so YOURE the one who ate MY pudding cup 61. Why are they called mason jars. Did mason design them? WHOS MASON? They should be called ellie jars. We all know that ellie is way better than mason 62. Where was the lightbulb invented 63. BEFORE you say anything. Do you remember Pinky Dinky Doo 64. Its like a freakin blueberry with a face 65. Dont bite your friends *sings* “Dont. Dont. Dont bite your friends” 66. I should be doing homework but instead im watching Yo Gabbah Gabbah 67. *sings the backyardigans theme song* 68. *sings the veggie tales theme song* 69. Do you remember junior the asparagus *starts singing moana* 70. So if i owned a pinetree, could i call it minetree 71. Red pandas are better than dolphins 72. *lydia starts talking* IS THAT YOU GOD 73. What if the firemen start the fires to keep them employed 74. Tic tac toe, pick one. One of them have to die. 75. Does derp and snerp rhyme 76. *touches nose to my phone* nose phone 77. Singing. Its just like stairs. I get out of breath. 78. One time i had a dream that i had to slay a dragon. It killed me. 79. One time i was walking my grandmas dog and a cat attacked me. 80. Are hearing aids glasses for the ears 81. Whats the difference between right twix and left twix 82. HEY LOOK THERES A DUCKY 83. Morgan is a russian spy? 84. What if you could take your eye out and see into someones soul? 85. Can fish drown? Like can they drown on air? 86. I had a dream where Logan got stabbed last night? 87. FIRE HYDRANT! 88. lions? I dont have any lions 89. Cinderella can go dig a hole and die in it 90. Thats sooooo ugly. Cinderella can wear it 91. I dont even like orange soda but i drink it because its sugar and i LOVEEEEEEE sugar 92. Oh no sweety those shoes do not go with that dress, unless youre Cinderella 93. I have a burning hatred for Cinderella 94. WHAT THE HECK IS– oh its me 95. Its time to listen to MY songs. Buckle up buddy. 96. If i was an animal i would be an irrawaddy dolphin. I am. An iraqaddy dolphin 97. Im DONE with this long hair. Im cutting it off. 98. Have you heard me sing? Thats not the sound of potential. Thats the sound of death 99. If you had a girl child what would you name her (i say i dont know). Youre right. Lily is a great name 100. HANDSTAND. No wait i cant do it i will break my neck 101. *makes the verbal sound for: “GAHSBXICIWOEBDKDIQ” * 102. Did someone say bork 103. What if four wasnt a number 104. *sings*: NOW YOU KNOWWWW WITH ELLIE YOUR DAILY INFORMATIONAL THING. YEAH. 105. Some people. Theyre like walls. 106. I didnt know its body fell off. Somebody shouldve given me a heads up. 107. *reads: I like trees* he better stay away from minetre 108. It feels like a worm entering my ear 109. I give up 110. You know how carter has 753 pens in his sock? That really SOCKS for him. Ha. Ha. Ha. 111. MAKE ME. oh wait you cant cuz youre on the other side of a locked door 112. SENTIENT TACOS ARE EVERYWHERE AND THEY WATCH YOU. 113. SENTIENT WALLS. I HAVE FOUR OF THEM. 114. I had a dream that i killed a man 115. Its just a wallet. His name is walley. NO ITS A SENTIENT WALLET. that makes cents HA HA ha. Ha. That was good 116. I look like a naked mole rat 117. How did different kinds of birds come to be different 118. Hes a manager. Hes really good at managing things. And apparently hes a certified scuba diver 119. I kill at wii baseball ‘kay 120. The Miis creep me out like hey im the mini you living in the screen 121. Im single and i know it 122. The next dude who comes near me i will punch him in yhe throat. I will conventiently make sure its seamus 123. NO. THERES BUBBLE WRAP BUT ITS TAPED TO THE INSIDE SO I CANT POP IT EFFICIENTLY 124. Its like waves… but its not but it is 125. *phone buzzes* SHUT UP 126. A stylis. Its like a pencil for you phone 127. SO MANY SCREEN PROTECTORS 128. Go buy some new jeans. You dont need SCISSORS SARAH. 129. My friends say im weird. But i dont really think im weird you know. 130. Hes so tall. Hes like a freakin giraffe. Hows the air up there buddy? 131. Why the heck and i cutting holes in perfectly good jeans. I dont even like jeans. 132. I have 67 cats at home 133. What did cave people paint with? Their blood? 134. dude it’s the perfect weather to play tornado in 135. MIKE WAZOWSKI 136. Grass. Its like tini miniature trees. Im not wrong. Broccoli is a mini forrest 137. Seamus has an empty cardboard box in his room and i stole it and made it into a spaceship 138. That girl looks like me. She just want “agh” and just. Same. 139. The blankies name is dora. Dont ask why. Not my blankie tho. My blankies name is blue. I slipped on dora when i had my laptop in my lap. 140. Cinderella deserves nothing. 141. Morgan is a russian spy 142. LOOK ITS AN OLD GUY. i bet he has three dead bodies in his basement 143. A flute. You can shove it down their neck. And when their wheezing for breath beautiful melodies come out 144. The ninjas house is a bit further down. 145. Its like somewhere over the rainbow 146. I was just singing the entire soundtrack because why not. 147. Why do cars come in different colors? But the same inside colors? 148. Is it spelled nartz or narts 149. These people on my street painted their house mustard yellow and I don’t like it 150. How dis clowning start. Like hey lets paint our faces paint and put on red noses and see if children cry. I cried. I cried very hard. 151. Reich rhymes with branch 152. Cinderella deserves nothig but death 153. What if george washington IS THE WALLS? 154. The bus driver starts the bus before i sat down and i almost fell on my face. Lets face it that wasnt very nice of him. HA ha ha… 155. Jail backwards is laij 156. Do i confuse you more than math because nothing confuses me more than math 157. *rants about lotion* *cries* 158. The pogo is a no-go 159. I forget that i tell people things and im suprised when they already know, like how. Did you read my mind? 160. OH I HAD THIS DREAM. It was an animal apocalypse and they broke my glasses and I woke up mad and confused as to why I couldn’t see. 161. I think that in the alphabetical world, that c and s are rivals 162. Is a sticker still a sticker if it loses its stick 163. Stickers can go a die in a hole with Cinderella 164. Do you think the ocean is just salty because the beach never waves back? 165. Hey look its Mr. Testa. Dont testa me. HA. ha..haha 166. I want to go to sweden to see if they have swedish fish factories 167. Doesnt Switzerland make pretzels? Or is that Germany? 168. What if the sky is purple… 169. Me: *sends ellie a photo of an owl saying hello friend* ellie: WHOO ME?! haha get it… I’m making owl puns? What a hoot! 170. Ha ha… man i made this *send photo of hawk* Hawkward… 171. i see you are not *send photo of emu* EMUSED. 172. I get it, my puns are…fowl. Fowl. Did that send twice? Oh whale, i did it on porpoise. 173. What did the ocean say to the beach? Nothing it just waved. Did you sea what i did there? Im shore you did. 174. I almost ran into my wood bed. That woodn’t be fun now wood it 175. Im eating a bagel. Bagels? More like Bae Goals 176. Shea broke and 'unbreakable bowl’. Its unbowlievable 177. I just made up an 'under the sea’ parody about chocolate milk. Help me. 178. What did the grape say when he got stepped on? Nothing. He just let out a little wine 179. I think there is a monster under my bed 180. *draws a cherry* I thought it was a berry good drawing 181. I think of eyebrows as two countries. Unibrows unite them. 182. Im hanging out with sally right now (her imaginary friend who is homicidal) 183. I WILL WALK THERE WITH DETERMINATION AND GET TO MY DESTINATION TO FINISH YOUR EXTERMINATION. I WILL GO TO MURDER NATION 184. Ya know when spies do a little camp thing to catch the bad dude 185. Newspaper is so confusing. Its like a thousand tiny paper books. Im trying to read it but is not helping me 186. *talking about the origin of pretzels*but whose the mother country that was like “hey lets make some dough wrap like this then sprinkle some salt then how bout some mustard”. Like who did that. it couldn’t been a collaboration of countries. did they hold a world meeting to think of new foods 187. Where the heck did cake come from. Apparently the Greeks invented cake, but according to food historians the ancient Egyptians invented cake 188. Hey my family just decided that our new safe word is 'Oklahoma’ 189. I am certain that food historian is a real job 190. So apparently not all Catholic Churches have their sermons in Spanish 191. But apparently the actual Purple Heart is in Orlando 192. Apparently my friend Amanda almost pet a manatee today 193. THE PIZZA PLACE STOLE OUR PIZZA. I THINK. WE ORDERED PIZZA MUCH TIME AGO AND IT ISNT HERE YET 194. I was watching a show called Room on the Broom but it wasn’t very good 195. AND ARE STORES CALLED STORES BC YOU STORE FOOD THERE? OR IS IT CALLED A STORE BC YOU GET FOOD FROM THERE TO TAKE HOME AND STORE YOURSELF?? 196. aRGG I JUST GOT TOOTHPASTE IN MY EYE 197. I hate snow white almost as much as i hate cinderella 198. I should get a star on the hollywood floor 199. There’s a ladder on your roof, you should get that checked out 200. I have ice cream. aaaand I walked into a wall

[soft-monstrosities]

The Dying World - Sprouts

The sixth creator drifted for awhile. Focusing on nothing at all was as close to pleasant as anything else these days. Then Leela returned. It had expected her to pack up her things and be gone, only the girl seemed to have other plans. First she set about making pots and studying the seeds. Odd, but expected. Transporting them would be a risk otherwise, but even after she had found out that she could transport them safely with magic, the girl stayed. Leela set about filling the pots with soil and put the seeds into them. 

Foolish, nothing would grow in the soil here. It was toxic, dead and good for nothing but pain. The sixth creator thought she would figure it out soon enough, but Leela was stubborn. She tried spell after spell to purify the dirt. A million kinds of water treatments, a thousand different shapes of pots. Straight magic. Singing, pleading, crying. None of it could get that soil to let a plant flower. 

It wore at the sixth creator, it’s patience was infinite, but even the infinite could be worn thin by the annoying. So finally, after millions of years of silence, of solitude and apathy, the sixth creator twisted it’s head to the girl and spoke in a language all can understand. Older than the universe itself. 

“They will not grow here.”

Leela stared at it with wide eyes. Then she bounced onto the balls of her feet, almost tripping over her own feet in her scrabble to sit by the sixth’s creator’s head. Then the questions started.

“What do you mean they won’t grow here? Do I need soil from a particular part of the cave? Do I need to put them in the lava? I didn’t want to risk it but if you think it’s a good idea, it might make sense. I have to spread these around the planet after all! So I need to be sure that they can survive the environment.”

Aw hell. Of course she’d take the message that way. The sixth creator sighed. 

“They will not grow on this planet. Nothing will. Go find another planet to grow them on and spread them around the universe. Any other will do.”

At that, Leela rolled her eyes. 

“I can’t spread them on this planet unless I get them to grow here silly.”

The sixth creator wanted to grow at the child, but it resisted the urge.

“Your task was not to spread them here. That is a fool’s errand. Go elsewhere and they will grow.”

The girl put her hands on her hips, face skeptical. 

“And how exactly would you know that? Have you ever tried?”

For the first time since the fight, the sixth creator paused. How could it explain to a child what it exactly it was? The sixth creator had never tried to grow anything on it’s planet, for it’s planet was it. Things grew as it did, a long time ago. Now it knew for a fact that nothing would grow,  knew the land was as toxic and broken as it was. This planet was dying as it was, as the universe itself was. No new life would grow here. But try as the sixth creator might, it could not find a way to explain this to such a stubborn child. It seems though, that Leela took it’s silence as an answer. 

“See! You can’t know if you’ve never tried. I’ll figure it out, just give me time.” 

The sixth creator had no answer to that, so Leela resumed her experiments and it kept silent. She seemed content to babble without answers expected. It did not move it’s head back away for her. Why bother. 

Another month passed by without a waiver in her hope. More symbols were drawn on the walls. The sixth creator had given up on not watching her. It did not speak, but it watched. 

One night, after Leela had finished for the day and was writing in her journal, she paused. She was leaned up against the sixth creator’s side, ever so careful with how she placed her weight.

“Hey, what’s your name.” 

For a moment, the sixth creator considered not responding. Leela would likely not relent though.

“I have been called many things.”

Little eyes rolled back and she sighed. The sixth creator almost felt offended that she dare consider it annoying.

“Okay, but what do you liked to be called?”

That took more thought. For a long time, the sixth creator had liked the name it had given itself along with the other creators. Now the name was nothing but bad memories. The only reason a dying thing needed a name was to put it on a gravestone, and the sixth creator knew there would be no need for that.

“I do not wish to be called anything.”

Leela considered that for a moment. Her words were slow as she thought through them.

“Okay. I mean, I guess if people can have any name they want you can have none at all. I could give you a name if you don’t like any of your old ones? Or I could help you find one you like!”

The sixth creator considered it for a moment, it might make her stop the line of inquiry, but it also felt like giving her far too much power. Names were powerful things, it was better not to have one.

“No. I will not be named, I have no need for one.”

“Fair enough, it would make writing about you in my journal easier though.” 

The conversation died, and the girl slept. By the next day, she had forgotten it. 

Another month slid by. The girl was growing frustrated. She had started to venture back into the caves, looking for something she may have missed. The sixth creator kept silent. It had said it’s part, and she had not asked anything of it. If it had been possible, the sixth creator would have merely made the plants grow so Leela would be gone. But that was not even within it’s power, not while she insisted on using soil from this rotten planet. 

More time passed, and again the girl went further and further into the caves looking for clues. In the past time, she had grown less talkative. Less sure. Less hopeful. It was good. She was learning, and soon enough she would understand there was nothing to be done, not here or anywhere else. The sixth creator was ready for her to be gone and for things to be quiet again. 

Then she got hurt. 

The injury was more serious this time. The sixth creator knew the moment it happened, the moment before it happened, the moment after it happened. All it could do was lay in it’s den and watch. Wonder if the girl would make it back to the den, or if she would die there in the caves. Die while a useless god that could no longer even walk watched. Maybe that would be a fitting end.

Leela did not die though, it took her time, but she managed to hobble back. A splint made of metal helped ease her way, and finally she was back in the den. The sixth creator did not comment. It did not owe her any words. She was an annoyance. 

So why did it feel like it owed her an apology?

She was silent for the first two days after she was back. She ate and slept and stared at the ceiling. On the third day, she spoke. Eyes fixed to the stars she had drawn on the tips of her toes, balancing on a rock she had dragged in. 

“Why were you so sure that nothing would grow on this planet?” 

There were easy lies. Easy half truths. Easy not-quite-eithers. The sixth creator regarded her for a moment, and then told the truth. Those dying had no need for secrets. 

“This planet is me. Or a reflection of me. It is weak, old, dying. It is much like the universe around it. It is toxic, hostile, angry. Nothing will grow here, life could not survive here.” 

Leela was very quiet for a long time. 

“I dunno. I think I’m doing alright. If I can figure it out, why can’t the plants?” 

That threw the sixth creator off guard. It had not expected, nor even thought about that. The more it did, the more the idea made sense. Leela survived here. She lived her. She thrived here. Nothing should have been able to do that, and yet here the child was. 

“I... I do not know. It’s different. You survive on your own.” 

“It’s not though, not really. Everything I eat comes from this planet. Everything I drink and make. All just rocks and lava heat made into something else. Why not the plants?”

She paused, considered, and answered her own questions. 

“Wait. You said the plants won’t grow because this planet is a reflection of you. So if you don’t think the plants will grow, then of course they won’t. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.” 

The sixth creator did not like this line of thought. It wanted it to stop now. 

“There is nothing to be done about it. Go elsewhere child. Go elsewhere before I fail you too.” 

“You haven’t failed me though. You gave me a place to stay. Someone to talk to. This planet gave me a home and a purpose. That’s all I ever really needed. I don’t want to go somewhere else, I’m happy here. Even if I can never get these plants to grow, I won’t leave.”

“You’ll die. Everything will. You’ll have left nothing behind. If you go now, you can have a grand story. A mission from the universe itself, to save it. You can tell an amazing story. If you stay here, all you’ll leave behind is a story of foolish shortsightedness that no one will remember.”

“So? Listen, I don’t need some grand hero’s tale. I don’t need to save a universe or die trying. I don’t need to have people repeating my story around their dinner tables. I don’t want that. If my story is going to be the story of a silly girl who ran away from an awful home and wasted her entirely life trying to grow plants in toxic soil, well that’s fine by me. That’s a much better story anyways.” 

At that, the sixth creator could not help but lift it’s head to look at the girl with disbelief. 

“How could that story be better? It means nothing. What is the point in a story that goes no where and in which nothing of any importance happens?”

Leela looked up at the stars she had drawn, her eyes seeing something else. Something the sixth creator could not understand. Did not want to understand. She replied, quietly. 

“A story doesn’t have to be some grand sweeping adventure to be important. The little stories matter too you know. Sometimes the most mundane things make for the best stories, because it’s something everyone understands. All a important story needs is to be told.” 

The sixth creator had no reply to that. It put it’s head back down, and stared away into nothingness. Or, more accurately, it stared away into the rest of the universe. It hadn’t looked at anything in a long time, but for a moment, it did. Looking, listening, reading, the sixth creator bathed itself in the universe again. 

This time, it was looking for something specific, the stories it’s creations had decided to tell. There were the grand adventures, the stories the creators had made, those legends passed down from generation to generation, and those stories were wide and loud. Underneath those stories though, there were more. Infinitely more. Some stories of heros, a trillion universes made up by a trillion creatures, villains, battles, wars, but more then that even. Quiet stories of days and nights, stories in which nothing much at all happened, and stories that simply fondly recalled an old life. Stories of people who gave up and those who never did. Stories of people who fought unreal enemies, and stories of people who sat down and quietly talked their way into the hearts of their demons. It baffled the sixth creator how many stories had been created since all of them had stopped paying attention. For a moment, it wondered if just maybe this universe was not dying after all, maybe it was just telling quieter stories it had not known how to see. 

Then it tried to move it’s foot, and the pain set in again. It’s delusions were broken and it pulled away. The pain was worse than before, and as nice as it might have been to believe, the sixth creator knew that this universe was doomed. The quiet stories were merely foreshadowing them giving up, that was all. 

Leela had watched all of this silently, worried when she saw the pain flash through her stoic companion. The being was still pointing it’s face at her, but it had not been watching her for awhile now. It’s gaze returned. Sadder, more resigned than before.

While it was not a foolish creature, the sixth creator still found something within itself stirred by what it had seen. It looked at the girl once again. This universe was dying, but if this girl wanted her story to be small and quiet, well that was all the more fitting. It did not want her story to be one of relentless failure though, though the sixth creator loathed to admit it, it did not wish to see her sad. She was right too, clearly if she could survive on this planet, there must be some way for these plants to survive as well. So again, the sixth creator did something it had not done in a long time. 

Against the pain, against the overbearing pressure of the universe itself, against all odds and all it’s vows, the sixth creator began to move. Slowly, ever so slowly, leaving Leela stunned, it hauled itself to it’s paws. 

The girl did not know how to respond, so used to seeing her companion still and silent. Now, it looked almost mighty, even with the pain on it’s face as it stumbled a step forward. It’s breathing was heavy, but she had never before seen it breathe at all. Forward a step. It seemed to cause it great pain, but again. Forward a step. The sixth creator though for a moment it would fail. Forward a step. It could not fail. Forward a step. It was dying, there was nothing left for it, but by all six creators honor it would not let this girl’s failure and sadness be it’s final story. Forward a step. Not far now. Forward a step. Leela backed up, quickly moving even on her own injury so that the sixth creator could reach the pots without pausing. Forward a step. 

It was in front of the pots now. Each seed had been carefully placed in a pot, each of a different shape and size. The sixth creator looked down on them. It had thought that they would not grow here, so they had not, and even though it still did not quite believe that it could, it wanted more than anything. Believing and wanting were not the same, but for the time, it was enough.

With all the energy it had left, the sixth creator focused everything it had into those little seeds, into the dirt, into the air, into everything around them. For a moment, it thought it was going to die from the energy use, a fitting end maybe. But it did not. The moment passed, and it opened it’s eyes at Leela’s gasp. They were so very small, little green and red sprouts poking up over the soil, and the sixth creator smiled down at them. Then it collapsed, just barely managing to not hit the pots as it did so. It heard Leela yell something, and the darkness overtook it.

When it awoke next, the girl was asleep and it was back in it’s nest. Were it not for the little sprouts still visible in the corner of the den, the sixth creator might have thought it all a dream. The girl it seemed had moved it back to it’s nest, and fallen asleep writing in her journal. 

The sixth creator peered into it for the first time, having not been willing to look before now.

They actually made the plants grow! The sprouts are going to need a lot of care, but I think that I can actually do this now. I’m worried about them though, they fell right after doing it, and it clearly took a lot out of them. Hopefully they just need a good sleep. Tomorrow I’ll look for-

The writing trailed off there, her list forgotten. The sixth creator regarded her choice in pronoun. It had not been a they in a long time, not since the fight. The sixth creator had not wanted to be a they, something living. Something more than a statue or rock on the ground. 

Now though, the sixth creator decided that there was no harm in playing along. After all, the sprouts were clearly the large offense to the death of the universe and the sixth creator. 

So, with a light smile, they went back to sleep.

[readbookywooks]

The sun was sinking and light was failing in the hollows. The hill now loomed up before them and above them, and they wondered what need there could be of a guide to so plain a mark. But as Mim led them on, and they began to climb the last steep slopes, they perceived that he was following some path by secret signs or old custom. Now his course wound to and fro, and if they looked aside they saw that at either hand dark dells and chines opened, or the land ran down into wastes of great stones with falls and holes masked by bramble and thorn. There without a guide they might have laboured and clambered for days to find a way. At length they came to steeper but smoother ground. They passed under the shadows of ancient rowan-trees, into aisles of long-legged aeglos: a gloom filled with a sweet scent. Then suddenly there was a rock-wall before them, flat-faced and sheer, forty feet high, maybe, but dusk dimmed the sky above them and guess was uncertain. 'Is this the door of your house?' said Turin. 'Dwarves love stone, it is said.' He drew close to Mim, lest he should play them some trick at the last. 'Not the door of the house, but the gate of the garth,' said Mim. Then he turned to the right along the cliff-foot, and after twenty paces he halted suddenly; and Turin saw that by the work of hands or of weather there was a cleft so shaped that two faces of the wall overlapped, and an opening ran back to the left between them. Its entrance was shrouded by long trailing plants rooted in crevices above, but within there was a steep stony path going upward in the dark. Water trickled down it, and it was dank. One by one they filed up. At the top the path turned right and south again, and brought them through a thicket of thorns out upon a green flat, through which it ran on into the shadows. They had come to Mim's house, Bar-en-Nibin-noeg, which only ancient tales in Doriath and Nargothrond remembered, and no Men had seen. But night was falling, and the east was starlit, and they could not yet see how this strange place was shaped. Amon Rûdh had a crown: a great mass like a steep cap of stone with a bare flattened top. Upon its north side there stood out from it a shelf, level and almost square, which could not be seen from below; for behind it stood the hill-crown like a wall, and west and east from its brink sheer cliffs fell. Only from the north, as they had come, could it be reached with ease by those who knew the way. From the 'gate' a path led, and passed soon into a little grove of dwarfed birches growing about a clear pool in a rock-hewn basin. This was fed by a spring at the foot of the wall behind, and through a runnel it spilled like a white thread over the western brink of the shelf. Behind the screen of the trees, near the spring between two tall buttresses of rock, there was a cave. No more than a shallow grot it looked, with a low broken arch; but further in it had been deepened and bored far under the hill by the slow hands of the Petty-dwarves, in the long years that they had dwelt there, untroubled by the Grey-elves of the woods. Through the deep dusk Mim led them past the pool, where now the faint stars were mirrored among the shadows of the birch-boughs. At the mouth of the cave he turned and bowed to Turin. 'Enter, lord!' he said: 'Bar-en-Danwedh, the House of Ransom. For so it shall be called.' 'That may be,' said Turin. 'I will look at it first.' Then he went in with Mim, and the others, seeing him unafraid, followed behind, even Androg, who most misdoubted the Dwarf. They were soon in a black dark; but Mim clapped his hands, and a little light appeared, coming round a corner: from a passage at the back of the outer grot there stepped another Dwarf bearing a small torch. 'Ha! I missed him, as I feared!' said Androg. But Mim spoke quickly with the other in their own harsh tongue, and seeming troubled or angered by what he heard, he darted into the passage and disappeared. Now Androg was all for going forward. 'Attack first!' he cried. 'There may be a hive of them; but they are small.' 'Three only, I guess,' said Turin; and he led the way, while behind him the outlaws groped along the passage by the feel of the rough walls. Many times it bent this way and that at sharp angles; but at last a faint light gleamed ahead, and they came into a small but lofty hall, dim-lit by lamps hanging down out of the roof-shadow upon fine chains. Mim was not there, but his voice could be heard, and led by it Turin came to the door of a chamber opening at the back of the hall. Looking in, he saw Mim kneeling on the floor. Beside him stood silent the Dwarf with the torch; but on a stone couch by the far wall lay another. 'Khim, Khim, Khim!' the old Dwarf wailed, tearing at his beard. 'Not all your shots went wild,' said Turin to Androg. 'But this may prove an ill hit. You loose shaft too lightly; but you may not live long enough to learn wisdom.' Leaving the others, Turin entered softly and stood behind Mim, and spoke to him. 'What is the trouble, master?' he said. 'I have some healing arts. May I help you?' Mim turned his head, and his eyes had a red light. 'Not unless you can turn back time and cut off the cruel hands of your men,' he answered. 'This is my son. An arrow was in his breast. Now he is beyond speech. He died at sunset. Your bonds held me from healing him.' Again pity long hardened welled in Turin's heart as water from rock. 'Alas!' he said. 'I would recall that shaft, if I could. Now Bar-en-Danwedh, House of Ransom, shall this be called in truth. For whether we dwell here or no, I will hold myself in your debt; and if ever I come to any wealth, I will pay you a danwedh of heavy gold for your son, in token of sorrow, even if it gladdens your heart no more.' Then Mim rose and looked long at Turin. 'I hear you,' he said. 'You speak like a dwarf-lord of old; and at that I marvel. Now my heart is cooled, though it is not glad. My own ransom I will pay, therefore: you may dwell here, if you will. But this I will add: he that loosed the shaft shall break his bow and his arrows and lay them at my son's feet; and he shall never take an arrow nor bear bow again. If he does, he shall die by it. That curse I lay on him.' Androg was afraid when he heard of this curse; and though he did so with great grudge, he broke his bow and his arrows and laid them at the dead Dwarf's feet. But as he came out from the chamber, he glanced evilly at Mim, and muttered: 'The curse of a dwarf never dies, they say; but a Man's too may come home. May he die with a dart in his throat!' That night they lay in the hall and slept uneasily for the wailing of Mim and of Ibun, his other son. When that ceased they could not tell; but when they woke at last the Dwarves were gone and the chamber was closed by a stone. The day was fair again, and in the morning sunshine the outlaws washed in the pool and prepared such food as they had; and as they ate Mim stood before them. He bowed to Turin. 'He is gone and all is done,' he said. 'He lies with his fathers. Now we turn to such life as is left, though the days before us may be short. Does Mim's home please you? Is the ransom paid and accepted?' 'It is,' said Turin. 'Then all is yours, to order your dwelling here as you will, save this: the chamber that is closed, none shall open it but me.' 'We hear you,' said Turin. 'But as for our life here, we are secure, or so it seems; but still we must have food, and other things. How shall we go out; or still more, how shall we return?' To their disquiet Mim laughed in his throat. 'Do you fear that you have followed a spider to the heart of his web?' he said. 'Nay, Mim does not eat Men. And a spider could ill deal with thirty wasps at a time. See, you are armed, and I stand here bare. No, we must share, you and I: house, food, and fire, and maybe other winnings. The house, I guess, you will guard and keep secret for your own good, even when you know the ways in and out. You will learn them in time. But in the meantime Mim must guide you, or Ibun his son, when you go out; and one will go where you go and return when you return �C or await you at some point that you know and can find unguided. Ever nearer and nearer home will that be, I guess.' To this Turin agreed, and he thanked Mim, and most of his men were glad; for under the sun of morning, while summer was yet high, it seemed a fair place to dwell in. Androg alone was ill-content. 'The sooner we are masters of our own goings and comings the better,' he said. 'Never before have we taken a prisoner with a grievance to and fro on our ventures.' That day they rested, and cleaned their arms and mended their gear; for they had food to last a day or two yet, and Mim added to what they had. Three great cooking-pots he lent to them, and firing; and he brought out a sack. 'Rubbish,' he said. 'Not worth the stealing. Only wild roots.' But when they were washed the roots proved white and fleshy with their skins, and when boiled they were good to eat, somewhat like bread; and the outlaws were glad of them, for they had long lacked bread save when they could steal it. 'Wild Elves know them not; Grey-elves have not found them; the proud ones from over the Sea are too proud to delve,' said Mim. 'What is their name?' said Turin. Mim looked at him sidelong. 'They have no name, save in the dwarf-tongue, which we do not teach,' he said. 'And we do not teach Men to find them, for Men are greedy and thriftless, and would not spare till all the plants had perished; whereas now they pass them by as they go blundering in the wild. No more will you learn of me; but you may have enough of my bounty, as long as you speak fair and do not spy or steal.' Then again he laughed in his throat. 'They are of great worth,' he said. 'More than gold in the hungry winter, for they may be hoarded like the nuts of a squirrel, and already we were building our store from the first that are ripe. But you are fools, if you think that I would not be parted from one small load even for the saving of my life.' 'I hear you,' said Ulrad, who had looked in the sack when Mim was taken. 'Yet you would not be parted, and your words only make me wonder the more.' Mim turned and looked at him darkly. 'You are one of the fools that spring would not mourn if you perished in winter,' he said to him. 'I had spoken my word, and so must have returned, willing or not, with sack or without, let a lawless and faithless man think what he will! But I love not to be parted from my own by force of the wicked, be it no more than a shoe-thong. Do I not remember that your hands were among those that put bonds upon me, and so held me that I did not speak again with my son? Ever when I deal out the earth-bread from my store you will be counted out, and if you eat it, you shall eat by the bounty of your fellows, not of me.' Then Mim went away; but Ulrad, who had quailed under his anger, spoke to his back: 'High words! Nonetheless the old rogue had other things in his sack, of like shape but harder and heavier. Maybe there are other things beside earth-bread in the wild which Elves have not found and Men must not know!' 'That may be,' said Turin. 'Nonetheless the Dwarf spoke the truth in one point at least, calling you a fool. Why must you speak your thoughts? Silence, if fair words stick in your throat, would serve all our ends better.' The day passed in peace, and none of the outlaws desired to go abroad. Turin paced much upon the green sward of the shelf, from brink to brink; and he looked out east, and west, and north, and wondered to find how far were the views in the clear air. Northward, and seeming strangely near, he could descry the forest of Brethil climbing green about the Amon Obel. Thither he found that his eyes would stray more often than he wished, though he knew not why; for his heart was set rather to the northwest, where league upon league away on the skirts of the sky it seemed to him that he could glimpse the Mountains of Shadow and the borders of his home. But at evening Turin looked west into the sunset, as the sun rode down red into the hazes above the far distant coasts, and the Vale of Narog lay deep in the shadows between. So began the abiding of Turin son of Hurin in the halls of Mim, in Bar-en-Danwedh, the House of Ransom. For a long while the life of the outlaws went well to their liking. Food was not scarce, and they had good shelter, warm and dry, with room enough and to spare; for they found that the caves could have housed a hundred or more at need. There was another smaller hall further in. It had a hearth at one side, above which a smoke-shaft ran up through the rock to a vent cunningly hidden in a crevice on the hillside. There were also many other chambers, opening out of the halls or the passage between them, some for dwelling, some for works or for stores. In storage Mim had more arts than they, and he had many vessels and chests of stone and wood that looked to be of great age. But most of the chambers were now empty: in the armouries hung axes and other gear rusted and dusty, shelves and aumbries were bare; and the smithies were idle. Save one: a small room that led out of the inner hall and had a hearth which shared the smoke-vent of the hearth in the hall. There Mim would work at times, but would not allow others to be with him; and he did not tell of a secret hidden stair that led from his house to the flat summit of Amon Rûdh. This Androg came upon when seeking in hunger to find Mim's stores of food he became lost in the caves; but he kept this discovery to himself. During the rest of that year they went on no more raids, and if they stirred abroad for hunting or gathering of food they went for the most part in small parties. But for a long while they found it hard to retrace their road, and beside Turin not more than six of his men became ever sure of the way. Nonetheless, seeing that those skilled in such things could come to their lair without Mim's help, they set a watch by day and night near to the cleft in the north-wall. From the south they expected no enemies, nor was there fear of any climbing Amon Rûdh from that quarter; but by day there was at most times a watchman set on the top of the crown, who could look far all about. Steep as were the sides of the crown, the summit could be reached, for to the east of the cave-mouth rough steps had been hewn leading up to slopes where men could clamber unaided. So the year wore on without hurt or alarm. But as the days drew in, and the pool became grey and cold and the birches bare, and great rains returned, they had to pass more time in shelter. Then they soon grew weary of the dark under hill, or the dim half-light of the halls; and to most it seemed that life would be better if it were not shared with Mim. Too often he would appear out of some shadowy corner or doorway when they thought him elsewhere; and when Mim was near unease fell on their talk. They took to speaking ever to one another in whispers. Yet, and strange it seemed to them, with Turin it went otherwise; and he became ever more friendly with the old Dwarf, and listened more and more to his counsels. In the winter that followed he would sit for long hours with Mim, listening to his lore and the tales of his life; nor did Turin rebuke him if he spoke ill of the Eldar. Mim seemed well pleased, and showed much favour to Turin in return; him only would he admit to his smithy at times, and there they would talk softly together. But when autumn was passed the winter pressed them hard. Before Yule snow came down from the North heavier than they had known it in the river-vales; at that time, and ever the more as the power of Angband grew, the winters worsened in Beleriand. Amon Rûdh was covered deep, and only the hardiest dared stir abroad. Some fell sick, and all were pinched with hunger. In the dim dusk of a day in midwinter there appeared suddenly among them a Man, as it seemed, of great bulk and girth, cloaked and hooded in white. He had eluded their watchmen, and he walked up to their fire without a word. When men sprang up he laughed and threw back his hood, and they saw that it was Beleg Strongbow. Under his wide cloak he bore a great pack in which he had brought many things for the help of men. In this way Beleg came back to Turin, yielding to his love against his wisdom. Turin was glad indeed, for he had often regretted his stubbornness; and now the desire of his heart was granted without the need to humble himself or to yield his own will. But if Turin was glad, not so was Androg, nor some others of his company. It seemed to them that there had been a tryst between Beleg and their captain, which he had kept secret from them; and Androg watched them jealously as the two sat apart in speech together. Beleg had brought with him the Helm of Hador; for he hoped that it might lift Turin's thought again above his life in the wild as the leader of a petty company. 'This is your own which I bring back to you,' he said to Turin as he took out the helm. 'It was left in my keeping on the north-marches; but was not forgotten, I think.' 'Almost,' said Turin; 'but it shall not be so again'; and he fell silent, looking far away with the eyes of his thought, until suddenly he caught the gleam of another thing that Beleg held in his hand. It was the gift of Melian; but the silver leaves were red in the firelight, and when Turin saw the seal his eyes darkened. 'What have you there?' he said. 'The greatest gift that one who loves you still has to give,' answered Beleg. 'Here is lembas in��Elidh, the way-bread of the Eldar that no man has yet tasted.' 'The helm of my fathers I take, with good will for your keeping,' said Turin. 'But I will not receive gifts out of Doriath.' 'Then send back your sword and your arms,' said Beleg. 'Send back also the teaching and fostering of your youth. And let your men, who (you say) have been faithful, die in the desert to please your mood! Nonetheless this waybread was a gift not to you but to me, and I may do with it as I will. Eat it not, if it sticks in your throat; but others may be more hungry and less proud.' Turin's eyes glinted, but as he looked in Beleg's face the fire in them died, and they went grey, and he said in a voice hardly to be heard: 'I wonder, friend, that you deign to come back to such a churl. From you I will take whatever you give, even rebuke. Henceforward you shall counsel me in all ways, save the road to Doriath only.' CHAPTER VIII THE LAND OF BOW AND HELM In the days that followed Beleg laboured much for the good of the Company. Those that were hurt or sick he tended, and they were quickly healed. For in those days the Grey-elves were still a high people, possessing great power, and they were wise in the ways of life and of all living things; and though they were less in crafts and lore than the Exiles from Valinor they had many arts beyond the reach of Men. Moreover Beleg the Archer was great among the people of Doriath; he was strong, and enduring, and far-sighted in mind as well as eye, and at need he was valiant in battle, relying not only upon the swift arrows of his long bow, but also upon his great sword Anglachel. And ever the more did hatred grow in the heart of Mim, who hated all Elves, as has been told, and who looked with a jealous eye on the love that Turin bore to Beleg. When winter passed, and the stirring came, and the spring, the outlaws soon had sterner work to do. Morgoth's might was moved; and as the long fingers of a groping hand the forerunners of his armies probed the ways into Beleriand. Who knows now the counsels of Morgoth? Who can measure the reach of his thought, who had been Melkor, mighty among the Ainur of the Great Song, and sat now, the dark lord upon a dark throne in the North, weighing in his malice all the tidings that came to him, whether by spy or by traitor, seeing in the eyes of his mind and understanding far more of the deeds and purposes of his enemies than even the wisest of them feared, save Melian the Queen. To her often his thought reached out, and there was foiled. In this year, therefore, he turned his malice towards the lands west of Sirion, where there was still power to oppose him. Gondolin still stood, but it was hidden. Doriath he knew, but could not enter yet. Further still lay Nargothrond, to which none of his servants had yet found the way, a name of fear to them; there the people of Finrod dwelt in hidden strength. And far away from the South, beyond the white woods of the birches of Nimbrethil, from the coast of Arvernien and the mouths of Sirion, came rumour of the Havens of the Ships. Thither he could not reach until all else had fallen. So now the Orcs came down out of the North in ever greater numbers. Through Anach they came, and Dimbar was taken, and all the north-marches of Doriath were infested. Down the ancient road they came that led through the long defile of Sirion, past the isle where Minas Tirith of Finrod had stood, and so through the land between Malduin and Sirion and then on through the eaves of Brethil to the Crossings of Teiglin. Thence of old the road passed on into the Guarded Plain, and then, along the feet of the highlands watched over by Amon Rûdh, it ran down into the vale of Narog and came at last to Nargothrond. But the Orcs did not go far upon that road as yet; for there dwelt now in the wild a terror that was hidden, and upon the red hill were watchful eyes of which they had not been warned. In that spring Turin put on again the Helm of Hador, and Beleg was glad. At first their company had less than fifty men, but the woodcraft of Beleg and the valour of Turin made them seem to their enemies as a host. The scouts of the Orcs were hunted, their camps were espied, and if they gathered to march in force in some narrow place, out of the rocks or from the shadow of the trees there leaped the Dragon-helm and his men, tall and fierce. Soon at the very sound of his horn in the hills their captains would quail and the Orcs would turn to flight before any arrow whined or sword was drawn. It has been told that when Mim surrendered his hidden dwelling on Amon Rûdh to Turin and his company, he demanded that he who had loosed the arrow that slew his son should break his bow and his arrows and lay them at the feet of Khim; and that man was Androg. Then with great ill-will Androg did as Mim bade. Moreover Mim declared that Androg must never again bear bow and arrow, and he laid a curse on him, that if nevertheless he should do so, then would he meet his own death by that means. Now in the spring of that year Androg defied the curse of Mim and took up a bow again in a foray from Bar-en-Danwedh; and in that foray he was struck by a poisoned orc-arrow, and was brought back dying in pain. But Beleg healed him of his wound. And now the hatred that Mim bore to Beleg was increased still more, for he had thus undone his curse; but 'it will bite again,' he said. In that year far and wide in Beleriand the whisper went, under wood and over stream and through the passes of the hills, saying that the Bow and Helm that had fallen in Dimbar (as was thought) had arisen again beyond hope. Then many, both Elves and Men, who went leaderless, dispossessed but undaunted, remnants of battle and defeat and lands laid waste, took heart again, and came to seek the Two Captains, though where they had their stronghold none yet knew. Turin received gladly all who came to him, but by the counsel of Beleg he admitted no newcomer to his refuge upon Amon Rûdh (and that was now named Echad i Sedryn, Camp of the Faithful); the way thither only those of the Old Company knew and no others were admitted. But other guarded camps and forts were established round about: in the forest eastward, or in the highlands, or in the southward fens, from Methed-en-glad ('the End of the Wood') south of the Crossings of Teiglin to Bar-erib some leagues south of Amon Rûdh in the once fertile land between Narog and the Meres of Sirion. From all these places men could see the summit of Amon Rûdh, and by signals receive tidings and commands. In this way, before the summer had passed, the following of Turin had swelled to a great force, and the power of Angband was thrown back. Word of this came even to Nargothrond, and many there grew restless, saying that if an outlaw could do such hurt to the Enemy, what might not the Lord of Narog do. But Orodreth King of Nargothrond would not change his counsels. In all things he followed Thingol, with whom he exchanged messengers by secret ways; and he was a wise lord, according to the wisdom of those who considered first their own people, and how long they might preserve their life and wealth against the lust of the North. Therefore he allowed none of his people to go to Turin, and he sent messengers to say to him that in all that he might do or devise in his war he should not set foot in the land of Nargothrond, nor drive Orcs thither. But help other than in arms he offered to the Two Captains, should they have need (and in this, it is thought, he was moved by Thingol and Melian). Then Morgoth withheld his hand; though he made frequent feint of attack, so that by easy victory the confidence of these rebels might become overweening. As it proved indeed. For Turin now gave the name of Dor-Cuarthol to all the land between Teiglin and the west march of Doriath; and claiming the lordship of it he named himself anew, Gorthol, the Dread Helm; and his heart was high. But to Beleg it seemed now that the Helm had wrought otherwise with Turin than he had hoped; and looking into the days to come he was troubled in mind. One day as summer was wearing on he and Turin were sitting in the Echad resting after a long affray and march. Turin said then to Beleg: 'Why are you sad, and thoughtful? Does not all go well, since you returned to me? Has not my purpose proved good?' 'All is well now,' said Beleg. 'Our enemies are still surprised and afraid. And still good days lie before us �C for a while.' 'And what then?' said Turin. 'Winter,' said Beleg. 'And after that another year, for those who live to see it.' 'And what then?' 'The wrath of Angband. We have burned the fingertips of the Black Hand �C no more. It will not withdraw.' 'But is not the wrath of Angband our purpose and delight?' said Turin. 'What else would you have me do?' 'You know full well,' said Beleg. 'But of that road you have forbidden me to speak. But hear me now. A king or the lord of a great host has many needs. He must have a secure refuge; and he must have wealth, and many whose work is not in war. With numbers comes the need of food, more than the wild will furnish to hunters. And there comes the passing of secrecy. Amon Rûdh is a good place for a few �C it has eyes and ears. But it stands alone, and is seen far off; and no great force is needed to surround it �C unless a host defends it, greater far than ours is yet or than it is likely ever to be.' 'Nonetheless, I will be the captain of my own host,' said Turin; 'and if I fall, then I fall. Here I stand in the path of Morgoth, and while I so stand he cannot use the southward road.' Report of the Dragon-helm in the land west of Sirion came swiftly to the ear of Morgoth, and he laughed, for now Turin was revealed to him again, who had long been lost in the shadows and under the veils of Melian. Yet he began to fear that Turin would grow to such a power that the curse that he had laid upon him would become void, and he would escape the doom that had been designed for him, or else that he might retreat to Doriath and be lost to his sight again. Now therefore he had a mind to seize Turin and afflict him even as his father, to torment him and enslave him. Beleg had spoken truly when he said to Turin that they had but scorched the fingers of the Black Hand, and that it would not withdraw. But Morgoth concealed his designs, and for that time contented himself with the sending out of his most skilled scouts; and ere long Amon Rûdh was surrounded by spies, lurking unobserved in the wilderness and making no move against the parties of men that went in and out. But Mim was aware of the presence of Orcs in the lands about Amon Rûdh, and the hatred that he bore to Beleg led him now in his darkened heart to an evil resolve. One day in the waning of the year he told the men in Baren-Danwedh that he was going with his son Ibun to search for roots for their winter store; but his true purpose was to seek out the servants of Morgoth, and to lead them to Turin's hiding-place. * Nevertheless he attempted to impose certain conditions on the Orcs, who laughed at him, but Mim said that they knew little if they believed that they could gain anything from a Petty-dwarf by torture. Then they asked him what these conditions might be, and Mim declared his demands: that they pay him the weight in iron of each man whom they caught or slew, but of Turin and Beleg in gold; that Mim's house, when rid of Turin and his company, be left to him, and himself unmolested; that Beleg be left behind, bound, for Mim to deal with; and that Turin be let go free. To these conditions the emissaries of Morgoth readily agreed, with no intention of fulfilling either the first or the second. The Orc-captain thought that the fate of Beleg might well be left to Mim; but as to letting Turin go free, 'alive to Angband' were his orders. While agreeing to the conditions he insisted that they keep Ibun as hostage; and then Mim became afraid, and tried to back out of his undertaking, or else to escape. But the Orcs had his son, and so Mim was obliged to guide them to Bar-en-Danwedh. Thus was the House of Ransom betrayed. It has been told that the stony mass that was the crown or cap of Amon Rûdh had a bare or flattened top, but that steep as were its sides men could reach the summit by climbing a stair cut into the rock, leading up from the shelf or terrace before the entrance to Mim's house. On the summit watchmen were set, and they gave warning of the approach of the enemies. But these, guided by Mim, came onto the level shelf before the doors, and Turin and Beleg were driven back to the entrance of Bar-en-Danwedh. Some of the men who tried to climb up the steps cut in the rock were shot down by the arrows of the Orcs. Turin and Beleg retreated into the cave, and rolled a great stone across the passage. In these straits Androg revealed to them the hidden stair leading to the flat summit of Amon Rûdh which he had found when lost in the caves, as has been told. Then Turin and Beleg with many of their men went up by this stair and came out on the summit, surprising those few of the Orcs who had already come there by the outer path, and driving them over the edge. For a little while they held off the Orcs climbing up the rock, but they had no shelter on the bare summit, and many were shot from below. Most valiant of these was Androg, who fell mortally wounded by an arrow at the head of the outside stair. Then Turin and Beleg with the ten men left to them drew back to the centre of the summit, where there was a standing stone, and making a ring about it they defended themselves until all were slain save Beleg and Turin, for over them the Orcs cast nets. Turin was bound and carried off; Beleg who was wounded was bound likewise, but he was laid on the ground with wrists and ankles tied to iron pins driven in to the rock. Now the Orcs, finding the issue of the secret stair, left the summit and entered Bar-en-Danwedh, which they defiled and ravaged. They did not find Mim, lurking in his caves, and when they had departed from Amon Rûdh Mim appeared on the summit, and going to where Beleg lay prostrate and unmoving he gloated over him while he sharpened a knife. But Mim and Beleg were not the only living beings on that stony height. Androg, though himself wounded to the death, crawled among the dead bodies towards them, and seizing a sword he thrust it at the Dwarf. Shrieking in fear Mim ran to the brink of the cliff and disappeared: he fled down a steep and difficult goat's path that was known to him. But Androg putting forth his last strength cut through the wristbands and fetters that bound Beleg, and so released him; but dying he said: 'My hurts are too deep even for your healing.' CHAPTER IX THE DEATH OF BELEG Beleg sought among the dead for Turin, to bury him; but he could not discover his body. He knew then that Hurin's son was still alive, and taken to Angband; but he remained perforce in Bar-en-Danwedh until his wounds were healed. He set out then with little hope to try to find the trail of the Orcs, and he came upon their tracks near the Crossings of Teiglin. There they divided, some passing along the eaves of the Forest of Brethil towards the Ford of Brithiach, while others turned away westwards; and it seemed plain to Beleg that he must follow those that went direct with greatest speed to Angband, making for the Pass of Anach. Therefore he journeyed on through Dimbar, and up to the Pass of Anach in Ered Gorgoroth, the Mountains of Terror, and so to the highlands of Taur-nu-Fuin, the Forest under Night, a region of dread and dark enchantment, of wandering and despair. Benighted in that evil land, it chanced that Beleg saw a small light among the trees, and going towards it he found an Elf, lying asleep beneath a great dead tree: beside his head was a lamp, from which the covering had slipped off. Then Beleg woke the sleeper, and gave him lembas, and asked him what fate had brought him to this terrible place; and he named himself Gwindor, son of Guilin. Grieving Beleg looked at him, for Gwindor was but a bent and timid shadow of his former shape and mood, when in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears that lord of Nargothrond rode to the very doors of Angband, and there was taken. For few of the Noldor whom Morgoth took captive were put to death, because of their skill in mining for metals and gems; and Gwindor was not slain, but put to labour in the mines of the North. These Noldor possessed many of the Feanorian lamps, which were crystals hung in a fine chain net, the crystals being ever-shining with an inner blue radiance marvellous for finding the way in the darkness of night or in tunnels; of these lamps they themselves did not know the secret. Many of the mining Elves thus escaped from the darkness of the mines, for they were able to bore their way out; but Gwindor received a small sword from one who worked in the forges, and when working in a stone-gang turned suddenly on the guards. He escaped, but with one hand cut off; and now he lay exhausted under the great pines of Taur-nu-Fuin. From Gwindor Beleg learned that the small company of Orcs ahead of them, from whom he had hidden, had no captives, and were going with speed: an advance guard, perhaps, bearing report to Angband. At this news Beleg despaired: for he guessed that the tracks that he had seen turning away westwards after the Crossings of Teiglin were those of a greater host, who had in orc-fashion gone marauding in the lands seeking food and plunder, and might now be returning to Angband by way of 'the Narrow Land', the long defile of Sirion, much further to the west. If this were so, his sole hope lay in returning to the Ford of Brithiach, and then going north to Tol Sirion. But scarcely had he determined on this than they heard the noise of a great host approaching through the forest from the south; and hiding in the boughs of a tree they watched the servants of Morgoth pass, moving slowly, laden with booty and captives, surrounded by wolves. And they saw Turin with chained hands being driven on with whips. Then Beleg told him of his own errand in Taur-nu-Fuin; and Gwindor sought to dissuade him from his quest, saying that he would but join Turin in the anguish that awaited him. But Beleg would not abandon Turin, and despairing himself he aroused hope again in Gwindor's heart; and together they went on, following the Orcs until they came out of the forest on the high slopes that ran down to the barren dunes of the Anfauglith. There within sight of the peaks of Thangorodrim the Orcs made their encampment in a bare dale, and set wolf-sentinels all about its rim. There they fell to carousing and feasting on their booty; and after tormenting their prisoners most fell drunkenly asleep. By that time day was failing and it became very dark. A great storm rode up out of the West, and thunder rumbled far off as Beleg and Gwindor crept towards the camp. When all in the camp were sleeping Beleg took up his bow and in the darkness shot four of the wolf-sentinels on the south side, one by one and silently. Then in great peril they entered in, and they found Turin fettered hand and foot and tied to a tree. All about knives that had been cast at him by his tormentors were embedded in the trunk, but he was not hurt; and he was senseless in a drugged stupor or swooned in a sleep of utter weariness. Then Beleg and Gwindor cut the bonds from the tree, and bore Turin out of the camp. But he was too heavy to carry far, and they could go no further than to a thicket of thorn trees high on the slopes above the camp. There they laid him down; and now the storm drew nearer, and lightning flashed on Thangorodrim. Beleg drew his sword Anglachel, and with it he cut the fetters that bound Turin; but fate was that day more strong, for the blade of Eol the Dark Elf slipped in his hand, and pricked Turin's foot. Then Turin was roused into a sudden wakefulness of rage and fear, and seeing a form bending over him in the gloom with a naked blade in hand he leapt up with a great cry, believing that Orcs were come again to torment him; and grappling with him in the darkness he seized Anglachel, and slew Beleg Cuthalion thinking him a foe. But as he stood, finding himself free, and ready to sell his life dearly against imagined foes, there came a great flash of lightning above them, and in its light he looked down on Beleg's face. Then Turin stood stonestill and silent, staring on that dreadful death, knowing what he had done; and so terrible was his face, lit by the lightning that flickered all about them, that Gwindor cowered down upon the ground and dared not raise his eyes. But now in the camp beneath the Orcs were roused, both by the storm and by Turin's cry, and discovered that Turin was gone; but no search was made for him, for they were filled with terror by the thunder that came out of the West, believing that it was sent against them by the great Enemies beyond the Sea. Then a wind arose, and great rains fell, and torrents swept down from the heights of Taur-nu-Fuin; and though Gwindor cried out to Turin, warning him of their utmost peril, he made no answer, but sat unmoving and unweeping beside the body of Beleg Cuthalion, lying in the dark forest slain by his hand even as he cut the bonds of thraldom from him. When morning came the storm was passed away eastward over Lothlann, and the sun of autumn rose hot and bright; but the Orcs hating this almost as much as the thunder, and believing that Turin would have fled far from that place and all trace of his flight be washed away, they departed in haste, eager to return to Angband. Far off Gwindor saw them marching northward over the steaming sands of Anfauglith. Thus it came to pass that they returned to Morgoth empty-handed, and left behind them the son of Hurin, who sat crazed and unwitting on the slopes of Taur-nu-Fuin, bearing a burden heavier than their bonds. Then Gwindor roused Turin to aid him in the burial of Beleg, and he rose as one that walked in sleep; and together they laid Beleg in a shallow grave, and placed beside him Belthronding his great bow, that was made of black yew-wood. But the dread sword Anglachel Gwindor took, saying that it were better that it should take vengeance on the servants of Morgoth than lie useless in the earth; and he took also the lembas of Melian to strengthen them in the wild. Thus ended Beleg Strongbow, truest of friends, greatest in skill of all that harboured in the woods of Beleriand in the Elder Days, at the hand of him whom he most loved; and that grief was graven on the face of Turin and never faded. But courage and strength were renewed in the Elf of Nargothrond, and departing from Taur-nu-Fuin he led Turin far away. Never once as they wandered together on long and grievous paths did Turin speak, and he walked as one without wish or purpose, while the year waned and winter drew on over the northern lands. But Gwindor was ever beside him to guard him and guide him; and thus they passed westward over Sirion and came at length to the Beautiful Mere and Eithel Ivrin, the springs whence Narog rose beneath the Mountains of Shadow. There Gwindor spoke to Turin, saying: 'Awake, Turin son of Hurin! On Ivrin's lake is endless laughter. She is fed from crystal fountains unfailing, and guarded from defilement by Ulmo, Lord of Waters, who wrought her beauty in ancient days.' Then Turin knelt and drank from that water; and suddenly he cast himself down, and his tears were unloosed at last, and he was healed of his madness. There he made a song for Beleg, and he named it Laer Cu Beleg, the Song of the Great Bow, singing it aloud heedless of peril. And Gwindor gave the sword Anglachel into his hands, and Turin knew that it was heavy and strong and had great power; but its blade was black and dull and its edges blunt. Then Gwindor said: 'This is a strange blade, and unlike any that I have seen in Middle-earth. It mourns for Beleg even as you do. But be comforted; for I return to Nargothrond of the House of Finarfin, where I was born and dwelt before my grief. You shall come with me, and be healed and renewed.' 'Who are you?' said Turin. 'A wandering Elf, a thrall escaped, whom Beleg met and comforted,' said Gwindor. 'Yet once I was Gwindor son of Guilin, a lord of Nargothrond, until I went to the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and was enslaved in Angband.' 'Then have you seen Hurin son of Galdor, the warrior of Dor-lomin?' said Turin. 'I have not seen him,' said Gwindor. 'But the rumour runs through Angband that he still defies Morgoth; and Morgoth has laid a curse upon him and all his kin.' 'That I do believe,' said Turin. And now they arose, and departing from Eithel Ivrin they journeyed southward along the banks of Narog, until they were taken by scouts of the Elves and brought as prisoners to the hidden stronghold. Thus did Turin come to Nargothrond.

[dailybiblelessons]

Friday: Preparation for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Friday: Preparation for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Revised Common Lectionary Proper 20 Roman Catholic Proper 25

Complementary Hebrew Scripture: Nahum 2:3-13

The shields of his warriors are red;  his soldiers are clothed in crimson. The metal on the chariots flashes  on the day when he musters them;  the chargers prance. The chariots race madly through the streets,  they rush to and fro through the squares;  their appearance is like torches,  they dart like lightning.

He calls his officers;  they stumble as they come forward;  they hasten to the wall,  and the mantelet is set up.

The river gates are opened,  the palace trembles. It is decreed that the city be exiled,  its slave women led away,  moaning like doves and beating their breasts. Nineveh is like a pool whose waters run away.

“Halt! Halt!”—  but no one turns back.

“Plunder the silver,  plunder the gold!  There is no end of treasure!  An abundance of every precious thing!”

Devastation, desolation, and destruction! Hearts faint and knees tremble,  all loins quake,  all faces grow pale! What became of the lions' den,  the cave of the young lions,  where the lion goes, and the lion's cubs,  with no one to disturb them? The lion has torn enough for his whelps  and strangled prey for his lionesses;  he has filled his caves with prey  and his dens with torn flesh.

See, I am against you, says the Lord of hosts,  and I will burn your chariots in smoke,  and the sword shall devour your young lions;  I will cut off your prey from the earth,  and the voice of your messengers shall be heard no more.

A mantelet is a moveable shelter used for protection when attacking or being attacked.

Semi-continuous Hebrew Scripture: Exodus 16:1-21

The whole congregation of the Israelites set out from Elim; and Israel came to the wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had departed from the land of Egypt. The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather on other days.” So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, “In the evening you shall know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your complaining against the Lord. For what are we, that you complain against us?” And Moses said, “When the Lord gives you meat to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning, because the Lord has heard the complaining that you utter against him—what are we? Your complaining is not against us but against the Lord.” Then Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, ‘Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.’” And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said, “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’” In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat. This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Gather as much of it as each of you needs, an omer to a person according to the number of persons, all providing for those in their own tents.’” The Israelites did so, some gathering more, some less. But when they measured it with an omer, those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed. And Moses said to them, “Let no one leave any of it over until morning.” But they did not listen to Moses; some left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and became foul. And Moses was angry with them. Morning by morning they gathered it, as much as each needed; but when the sun grew hot, it melted.

Complementary Psalm 145:1-8

I will extol you, my God and King,  and bless your name forever and ever.

Every day I will bless you,  and praise your name forever and ever.

Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;  his greatness is unsearchable.

One generation shall laud your works to another,  and shall declare your mighty acts.

On the glorious splendor of your majesty,  and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.

The might of your awesome deeds shall be proclaimed,  and I will declare your greatness.

They shall celebrate the fame of your abundant goodness,  and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

The Lord is gracious and merciful,  slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

Semi-continuous Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45

O give thanks to the Lord,  call on his name,  make known his deeds among the peoples. Sing to him, sing praises to him;  tell of all his wonderful works. Glory in his holy name;  let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Seek the Lord and his strength;  seek his presence continually.

Remember the wonderful works he has done,  his miracles, and the judgments he uttered,  O offspring of his servant Abraham,  children of Jacob, his chosen ones.

Then he brought Israel out with silver and gold,  and there was no one  among their tribes who stumbled. Egypt was glad when they departed,  for dread of them had fallen upon it. He spread a cloud for a covering,  and fire to give light by night.

They asked, and he brought quails,  and gave them food from heaven in abundance. He opened the rock, and water gushed out;  it flowed through the desert like a river.  For he remembered his holy promise, and Abraham, his servant.

So he brought his people out with joy,  his chosen ones with singing.

He gave them the lands of the nations,  and they took possession of  the wealth of the peoples,  that they might keep his statutes  and observe his laws.

Praise the Lord!

New Testament Epistle Lesson: 2 Corinthians 13:5-10

Examine yourselves to see whether you are living in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not realize that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless, indeed, you fail to meet the test! I hope you will find out that we have not failed. But we pray to God that you may not do anything wrong—not that we may appear to have met the test, but that you may do what is right, though we may seem to have failed. For we cannot do anything against the truth, but only for the truth. For we rejoice when we are weak and you are strong. This is what we pray for, that you may become perfect. So I write these things while I am away from you, so that when I come, I may not have to be severe in using the authority that the Lord has given me for building up and not for tearing down.

Year A Ordinary 25, RCL Proper 20, Catholic Proper 25 Friday

 Bible verses from The New Revised Standard Version, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All right reserved. Selections from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings, copyright 1985 by the Consultation on Common Texts. Image Credit:  Examine Yourselves by Flickr user Joshtinpowers, via Flickr. This image is used under the Creative Commons Attribution, Noncommercial Share Alike 2.0 license.