#...and their long journey home as well as their live-long dedication to the Pride Lands is a bust bc now they are all a part of a lion prid

[kaythefloppa]

Lion Guard Finale Praise + Rant

There is a lot I hate about The Lion Guard's final episode but the one thing that will always hold a special place in my heart is the return montage:

You can't tell in screenshots, but in the background, the LG chorus sings a reprise of the Departure Theme from the premiere episode, with this montage being a book-end to the goodbyes that the Guard said to their friends and families in that episode.

It's really sweet and powerful because it's a beautiful example of "Show, don't tell" (a rule which this show, particularly in Season 3, and the LK sequels in general are not the best at following). We see what the Lion Guard had left behind when they went on their journey to the Tree of Life, how much they had missed their home and how glad they are to be back and how that feeling was reciporicated by their friends and families.

Keep in mind that earlier that morning they were under the belief that Zira invaded the Pride Lands and had possibly killed the royal family and subjugated the Pride Lands' non-lion subjects if not giving them a same gruesome fate (since Kion knows that Zira is a lion supremacist, god-forbid what would happen if she ever got near Mtoto, Thurston, or Ajabu), and on the Pride Landers' end, the Lion Guard had been gone for such a long time with no one having any way of knowing they'd return or if they died. So this reunion was likely also a huge relief for everyone in the Pride Lands, especially Simba, Basi, and Timon and Pumbaa (who no doubt would've been scared shitless at the idea that their kid could be missing forever or dead and have no way to confirm or deny that possibility). It's just all around amazing to see. When watching the episode for the first time when it came out I thought something was wrong with my computer because despite there being 14 minutes left, I wholeheartedly thought the series was going to end there....

...which is why I'm very mad that it didn't and forever disappointed at the route they went with for the actual ending.

In the span of less than a full day since the Lion Guard returned from the Tree of Life, all of them instantly want to head back there on a whim after losing the Lion Guard contest, which would wind up in them completely uprooting their lives and leaving their home and families again for the sake of this one kingdom that we've only seen for seven to eight out of 74 episodes plus a TV movie! The reunion showed us that the Guard was strongly attached to their home and families, but now the ending forces us to ignore that to logistify the Guard willingly going to the Tree of Life without any on-screen goodbyes or send-offs. No scene of doubt, no goodbye songs, no parting ways between characters, nothing, it just jump cuts from "Hey, let's go back to the Tree of Life even though we've only been back here for a day" straight to them at the Tree of Life for Kion and Rani's wedding. Isn't the episode's title supposed to be "Return to the Pride Lands?" Yet the "return" plot stops mattering after the first 11 minutes.

The whole Guard leaving with Kion doesn't even make sense: Bunga has Timon and Pumbaa at Hakuna Matata Falls, Beshte has to co-lead the hippo pod with his father, Ono has his flock and possibly even Ona (you could argue that he would want to return to the Tree of Life because they healed him, but that's not the reason they went with - Also the poor dude lost his Mark of the Guard twice, the first being after he lost his eyesight to protect the Pride Lands from Scar, like, what the fuck?), Fuli had been the most admant about returning to the Pride Lands, and Anga showed no interest in staying at the Tree of Life and seemed perfectly ok in the Pride Lands.

Even back in the days where people were theorizing what would happen to the Lion Guard that caused them to be absent in TLK 2, I never saw reason for the whole Guard to leave if Kion ever left, and even then, I never expected any departure to be permanent because it would go against their whole life-style. It feels like they only had them leave like this for the sake of some "twist" that didn't need to be there. And even if they were going to go with this route, they could've had the Guard separate, with some staying and some going to at least make sense.

Much like Makini, Season 3 ignores crucial story elements of the main characters from the first two seasons to both justify their "plot-twist" by the end and to wrap up any “plot-holes” with the Lion King 2 and forces the audience to suspend an inappropriate amount of their disbelief. So while I like the reunion in the final episode and whilst my love for the show remains un-matched, knowing how it all ends and that (according to some writers) it was planned from the start to end like this makes me feel cheated in a way. One of the most disappointing endings I've seen from a show which I've been willing to follow from start to finish and this is coming from someone who's watched both Jake and the Never Land Pirates and Bunk'd.

[proplinerealty]

Discover Your Dream Home with Propline The Ultimate Property Solution

Finding the perfect home is more than just a financial decision—it's about creating a space that reflects your lifestyle, aspirations, and future goals. Whether you’re searching for apartments in Bangalore or looking to invest in luxury properties, Propline is your one-stop solution. With a wide range of listings, expert insights, and a personalized approach to real estate, Propline makes the process of finding your dream home seamless and stress-free.

Why Choose Propline?

Propline stands out in the crowded real estate market due to its user-friendly platform, extensive property options, and dedicated customer support. Here's why thousands of homebuyers trust Propline when searching for flats in apartments and premium properties:

Comprehensive Listings: Propline offers a curated selection of properties that cater to different needs, including luxury apartments in Bangalore, budget-friendly flats, and premium plots.

Expert Guidance: From understanding market trends to assisting with legal formalities, Propline provides expert advice at every step of your property-buying journey.

Upcoming Projects: Propline collaborates with renowned developers like Shapoorji Pallonji, Lodha, and Godrej to offer exclusive listings in upcoming premium projects.

Let’s explore some of these incredible developments and what they offer for potential homebuyers.

Shapoorji Pallonji

Shapoorji Pallonji has established itself as one of India’s leading real estate developers, known for creating iconic residential and commercial spaces. Their latest project in Bangalore is designed to offer a blend of luxury and comfort, featuring modern amenities such as clubhouses, swimming pools, and landscaped gardens. Located in prime areas, Shapoorji Pallonji's apartments in Bangalore cater to individuals and families looking for a serene yet well-connected environment.

Why Consider Shapoorji Pallonji?

World-class amenities

Spacious layouts

Excellent connectivity to major IT hubs

Pride KR Puram

For those looking for flats in apartments that combine affordability with modern amenities, Pride KR Puram offers the perfect solution. Situated in the up-and-coming neighborhood of KR Puram, this project features 2BHK and 3BHK units, making it ideal for young professionals and families alike. The development boasts top-notch amenities like a fitness center, playgrounds, and landscaped open spaces, providing a wholesome lifestyle.

Key Highlights of Pride KR Puram:

Proximity to IT parks and schools

Affordable pricing

Well-planned infrastructure

Lodha

Lodha is synonymous with luxury and elegance in the Indian real estate market. Their new project in Bangalore offers premium apartments in Bangalore designed with meticulous attention to detail. Whether you're looking for spacious living rooms, state-of-the-art kitchens, or lush green views, Lodha’s properties offer all this and more. Ideal for those who appreciate luxury living, Lodha’s project promises to redefine modern housing.

Why Choose Lodha?

High-end luxury features

Prime location

Unmatched quality of construction

Arvind Orchards Plots

For those looking for investment opportunities in land, Arvind Orchards Plots offer an excellent option. Located in one of Bangalore’s fastest-growing regions, this project provides well-demarcated plots in a gated community. Whether you want to build a custom home or hold the land as an investment, Arvind Orchards offers flexibility along with the assurance of safety and long-term appreciation.

Benefits of Arvind Orchards Plots:

Secure gated community

Customizable plots for building

Excellent future appreciation potential

Embassy Springs

One of the largest integrated townships in Bangalore, Embassy Springs is the ultimate destination for those looking for apartments in Bangalore with all-inclusive amenities. This massive development includes schools, hospitals, retail spaces, and recreational facilities, making it a self-sufficient mini-city. With wide-open green spaces, lakes, and walking trails, Embassy Springs offers a serene living environment without compromising on modern conveniences.

Why Invest in Embassy Springs?

Integrated township with all essential amenities

Premium residential options

Extensive green spaces

Mahindra Zen

Mahindra Zen is a project that merges affordability with comfort. This development offers flats in apartments that are designed to maximize space while keeping the interiors stylish and modern. Located in a well-connected part of Bangalore, Mahindra Zen is perfect for first-time homebuyers and young families looking for a balance between quality and price.

Highlights of Mahindra Zen:

Affordable yet high-quality homes

Excellent location for working professionals

Modern amenities at an economical price point

Godrej Whitefield

Whitefield is one of Bangalore's most sought-after locations due to its proximity to major tech parks, schools, and entertainment hubs. Godrej Whitefield offers luxurious apartments in Bangalore that cater to the city’s elite. With state-of-the-art facilities and a focus on sustainability, this project is perfect for those looking for upscale urban living.

Why Godrej Whitefield Stands Out:

Premium homes with modern architecture

Located in the heart of Whitefield, close to tech hubs

Eco-friendly, sustainable living options

Birla RR Nagar

Located in Rajarajeshwari Nagar, Birla’s new project offers a blend of luxurious living and serene surroundings. Designed for modern urban dwellers, Birla RR Nagar’s flats in apartments come equipped with high-end finishes and smart home features. The project also includes exclusive amenities such as a clubhouse, swimming pool, and fitness center.

Reasons to Consider Birla RR Nagar:

Luxurious and spacious apartments

Advanced smart home features

Well-connected to key areas in Bangalore

Brigade Sanctuary

Brigade Sanctuary offers the perfect mix of nature and modernity. Located in Bangalore’s green belt, this project features apartments in Bangalore that are designed to provide residents with a peaceful and rejuvenating environment. The development includes extensive landscaping, water features, and eco-friendly initiatives, making it the ideal home for nature lovers.

Why Brigade Sanctuary?

Surrounded by nature and greenery

Eco-friendly development

Top-class amenities for a modern lifestyle

Conclusion

When it comes to finding your dream home in Bangalore, Propline offers a multitude of options, from luxurious apartments in Bangalore to affordable flats in apartments and premium plots. By partnering with top developers like Shapoorji Pallonji, Pride KR Puram, Lodha, and Godrej, Propline ensures that you have access to the best real estate in the city.

Whether you're looking for a luxurious residence, a smart investment, or an affordable home, Propline is here to make your property search smooth, transparent, and successful. Explore Propline today and take the first step towards finding your dream home.

[residentialplotsinamaravati]

Residential plots For Sale in Amaravati

Discover Your Dream Home Residential Plots for Sale in Amaravati

Introduction

Amaravati Ventures, your ultimate destination to find the perfect Open Plots in Amaravati. Nestled in the of Amaravati, our plots offer a blend of modern amenities, serene surroundings, and excellent connectivity, making them an ideal choice for your dream home.

Exploring Amaravati

Amaravati, the bustling of Andhra Pradesh, is a hub of cultural heritage, economic prosperity, and urban development. As the city continues to flourish, investing in residential plots here is a promising opportunity. Whether you seek a peaceful retreat or a vibrant community, Amaravati caters to diverse lifestyle preferences.

Prime Locations

At Amaravati Ventures, we understand the significance of location in real estate investment. Our residential plots are strategically situated in prime areas of Amaravati, ensuring convenience and accessibility to essential amenities such as schools, hospitals, shopping centers, and recreational facilities. With well-planned infrastructure and proximity to major transportation hubs, commuting becomes hassle-free for residents.

Quality and Affordability

We take pride in offering residential plots that meet the highest standards of quality and affordability. Our meticulously planned layouts provide ample space for constructing your dream home, along with landscaped gardens and green spaces for a rejuvenating environment. Whether you envision a cozy villa or a luxurious mansion, our plots cater to various budgetary requirements, ensuring that everyone can fulfill their homeownership aspirations.

Transparent Transactions

At Amaravati Ventures, transparency and integrity are the pillars of our business ethos. We strive to build trust with our customers by ensuring transparent transactions and clear documentation processes. Our team of experienced professionals is dedicated to providing personalized assistance at every step of your property purchase journey, ensuring a smooth and hassle-free experience.

Investment Potential

Investing in residential plots in Amaravati not only offers the opportunity for homeownership but also presents lucrative investment potential. With rapid urbanization and infrastructure development projects underway, property values in Amaravati are expected to appreciate significantly in the coming years. Whether you plan to build your dream home or capitalize on rental income, our plots promise long-term returns on investment.

Customized Solutions

At Amaravati Ventures, we understand that every individual has unique preferences and requirements when it comes to their dream home. That's why we offer customized solutions to cater to diverse needs. Whether you prefer a vast expanse of land or a compact plot within a gated community, we have options to suit your lifestyle and preferences. Our team works closely with clients to understand their vision and guide them towards the perfect plot that aligns with their aspirations.

Community Living

Beyond just selling plots, we strive to foster a sense of community among our residents. Our residential projects are designed to promote a vibrant and inclusive community atmosphere, where neighbors become friends and shared experiences enrich lives. With common amenities such as parks, clubhouse, and recreational facilities, residents can engage in social activities and forge lasting connections.

Conclusion

Experience the joy of homeownership with our exclusive range of Residential Plots for sale in Amaravati. Whether you seek a tranquil retreat, an investment opportunity, or a vibrant community, Amaravati Ventures has the perfect plot to fulfill your dreams. Contact us today to embark on your journey towards owning a piece of paradise in Amaravati.

[subhagruha-projects]

Sukrithi Pride Venture in Sadasivpet. RERA Registered Plots with East, North, South, and West-Facing Plots

Subhagruha Group: Unlocking the Potential - Investing in Open Plots in Sadasivpet, Hyderabad 

Investing in land has always been a tried and true method of wealth accumulation. In a burgeoning city like Hyderabad, with its rapid urbanization and growth, the opportunities for land investment are abundant. Among the many emerging locations, Sadasivpet stands out as a promising investment destination. Subhagruha Group, a prominent real estate company in Hyderabad, has been a guiding force in this endeavor, offering open plots, gated community plots, villa plots, and more. In this article, we'll delve into the benefits of investing in land in Sadasivpet, Hyderabad, and the role Subhagruha Group plays in making this investment worthwhile.

Q1: What are the key advantages of investing in open plots in Sadasivpet, Hyderabad?

Investing in open plots in Sadasivpet offers several advantages:

Strategic Location: Sadasivpet is strategically located, making it a hotspot for real estate investment. It is well-connected to major highways and is in close proximity to Hyderabad, making it an ideal choice for those seeking growth potential.

High Appreciation: Land prices in Sadasivpet have witnessed steady appreciation in recent years, promising significant returns on investment. This makes it a lucrative option for long-term investors.

Peaceful Environment: Sadasivpet offers a peaceful and serene environment, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. This attracts investors looking for a tranquil living experience.

Q2: What sets Subhagruha Group apart in the real estate market?

Subhagruha Group is a name synonymous with trust and excellence in the real estate market. With a strong presence in Hyderabad, Vijayawada, and Vishakapatnam, the company specializes in providing open plots, gated community plots, villa plots, and more. Here's what sets Subhagruha Group apart:

Brand Credibility: Subhagruha Group has built a stellar reputation for delivering quality and transparent real estate solutions. Their commitment to ethical practices and customer satisfaction has made them a trusted choice among investors.

Mega Star Chiranjeevi: The company's brand ambassador, Mega Star Chiranjeevi Garu, adds a touch of prestige to Subhagruha Group. His association reflects the company's commitment to excellence and quality. 

Project Excellence: Subhagruha Group's projects, like "Sukrithi Pride," exemplify their dedication to providing world-class amenities and infrastructure. "Sukrithi Pride" offers an opportunity for investors to own a piece of Sadasivpet's promising future.

Q3: Can you share Subhagruha Group's achievements and struggles in its journey?

Subhagruha Group's journey has been marked by remarkable achievements and challenges. Their commitment to quality and customer satisfaction has been recognized by various industry stakeholders and media outlets. One of their significant achievements includes being featured in a Times of India article titled "Build Your Home the Way You Desire at Subhagruha."

However, like any successful journey, Subhagruha Group has faced its share of challenges, which they have overcome with resilience and determination. These experiences have only strengthened their resolve to provide the best real estate solutions to their customers.

Q4: How can potential investors learn more and connect with Subhagruha Group?

To learn more about Subhagruha Group and explore their offerings, you can visit their official website at https://subhagruha.com/. Additionally, you can connect with them on social media platforms such as:

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/subhagruhagroup

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/subhagruha/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/subhagruha-projects

In conclusion, investing in open plots in Sadasivpet, Hyderabad, offers a unique opportunity for growth and wealth accumulation. Subhagruha Group's commitment to excellence, brand credibility, and association with Mega Star Chiranjeevi Garu make them the go-to choice for discerning investors. With projects like "Sukrithi Pride," Subhagruha Group continues to shape the landscape of real estate in Hyderabad, offering a promising future for all those who choose to invest in this dynamic city.

[marketing741]

Choose The Best Land Properties for Sale in Bhubaneswar | Gaurabh Properties

Gaurabh Properties takes pride in delivering not just land but a promise of quality infrastructure. The properties are developed with a keen focus on providing residents with a comfortable and sustainable living environment. From well-planned roads and drainage systems to green spaces, Gaurabh Properties ensures that the infrastructure is of the highest standards, enhancing the overall living experience for its residents. What truly sets Gaurabh Properties apart is its customer-centric approach. The company understands the significance of customer satisfaction and strives to exceed expectations at every step. The dedicated customer support team is always ready to assist you, addressing any queries or concerns promptly. Gaurabh Properties believes in building long-term relationships with its clients, making the home-buying process a smooth and enjoyable journey. In conclusion, if you are in search of the perfect land properties for sale in Bhubaneswar, Gaurabh Properties is your go-to destination. With a commitment to exceptional locations, a variety of land options, transparency, quality infrastructure, and a customer-centric approach, Gaurabh Properties stands out as a trusted partner in your journey to find the ideal plot for your dream home. Unlock the doors to your dream home with Gaurabh Properties today!

[faltravelmart]

How We Differ From Other Travel Planners In Qatar

Qatar, a gem of the Arabian Gulf, is a land where tradition meets modernity and natural beauty meets architectural richness. It is a captivating location for tourists looking for a balance of tradition and innovation due to its vibrant towns, rich culture, and exciting landscapes. You’ll learn that it’s not just about creating journeys; it’s about getting experiences that speak to your ambitions, aspirations, and sense of adventure as we explore how we differ from other travel planners in Qatar. We’re here to make sure that your trip goes beyond the ordinary and turns into a one-of-a-kind adventure created just for you. We do this by having a strong dedication to excellence, local knowledge, and experience in revealing Qatar’s hidden beauty.

We pride ourselves on our in-depth knowledge of Qatar, its culture, and its hidden gems. Our team consists of local guides and long-term residents who have an intimate understanding of the country, enabling us to offer unique and authentic experiences. Best Travel Agency in Doha, Qatar specializes in customizing every part of your trip to your preferences, as opposed to pre-packaged trips that are one size fits all. Your specific needs and preferences are given priority in every decision we make, from choosing accommodations to creating tailored itineraries. We can offer exclusive access to a variety of sights, events, and local experiences that are not easily accessible to the average visitor because to our broad network of contacts and relationships. We can make it happen if you’ve ever dreamed of flying in a private jet. It’s the type of luxury travel, allowing you to go wherever you want in style and comfort. Our dedication to providing exceptional privacy and customer service makes us unique.

Our staff speaks a variety of languages to serve a diverse clientele, enabling clear communication and a smooth experience for visitors from all over the world. We are available anytime to respond to your questions, offer support while you’re traveling, and make sure your trip is easy and stress-free. Our safety and comfort are our top priorities. We collaborate with reputable transportation providers and prioritize well-maintained, safe vehicles and accommodations. We provide affordable pricing without sacrificing quality. Our extensive expertise enables us to offer solutions that are both cost-effective and of a high standard of service. We offer some convenience and premium services that make your life easier and more enjoyable. We also arrange for an international driving license, which allows you to drive in many countries around the world during your travel period. We understand that travel plans can change. Our flexible booking and cancellation policies are designed to accommodate sudden circumstances and schedules.

We understand that travel plans can change. Our flexible booking and cancellation policies are designed to accommodate sudden circumstances and schedules. We are dedicated to sustainable and ethical tourism methods. And our wellness packages are all about making you feel great. They include things like massages, spa treatments, and other relaxing activities to help you relax and refresh. Our itineraries frequently incorporate environmentally conscious choices, local community support, and environmental preservation. Our travel packages often include a range of services, from airport transfers and accommodations to guided tours and dining reservations. This thorough strategy makes arranging your trip easier and guarantees a well-rounded experience. And if you’re curious about the world but can’t travel right now, our virtual tours are perfect. You can explore famous places and learn new things, all from the comfort of your home. It’s like taking a trip without leaving your living room.

In a world where travel experiences can be as diverse as the destinations themselves, choosing the right travel planner can make all the difference in transforming your trip into a remarkable and treasured memory. FAL Travelmart is the Best Holiday Travel Planners in Doha, Qatar. Our dedication to tailoring experiences to your unique needs ensures that your journey is nothing short of extraordinary. Your adventure awaits, and we are here to make your experience unforgettable.

[waahkart123]

Waahkart's Exclusive Fountain Collection: Elevate Your Decor in India

India is a land of diversity and culture, a place where traditions and modernity seamlessly coexist. When it comes to interior decor, this rich blend of influences is reflected in the choices people make to adorn their living spaces. One of the most captivating ways to enhance your home or office decor is through the use of unique fountain pieces. And if you're on the lookout for an exclusive and diverse fountain collection, look no further than Waahkart.

A Legacy of Excellence

Waahkart, a name synonymous with innovation and quality, has been a leader in the world of interior decor and furnishings. Their journey began with a commitment to provide customers with exceptional products that not only beautify spaces but also tell stories. With years of experience and an unwavering dedication to craftsmanship, Waahkart has earned a reputation for being a go-to destination for those seeking distinctive decor pieces in India.Unique Fountain Pieces for Decor in India Fountains have long been a symbol of serenity and luxury. In India, they hold a special place in decor, evoking feelings of tranquility and grandeur. Waahkart understands the significance of fountains in Indian decor and has curated a stunning collection that caters to a wide range of tastes and preferences.

1. The Majestic Elegance of Outdoor Fountains

Waahkart's outdoor fountain collection is a testament to their commitment to quality and uniqueness. These fountains are designed not only to elevate the aesthetics of your garden or outdoor space but also to create a soothing atmosphere that is perfect for relaxation.

Whether you have a sprawling lawn or a cozy balcony, there's an outdoor fountain in Waahkart's collection that will suit your space. From classic designs that exude timeless elegance to contemporary pieces that add a modern touch, these fountains are crafted to perfection. Imagine the gentle sound of cascading water enhancing your outdoor experience – it's an experience like no other.

2. Indoor Fountains: Where Art Meets Function

Indoor fountains have gained popularity in Indian decor for their ability to infuse life and harmony into interior spaces. Waahkart's indoor fountain collection goes beyond mere decor; each piece is a work of art that brings the essence of India's diverse culture into your home or office.

Whether you're seeking a statement piece for your living room or a subtle yet captivating fountain for your workspace, Waahkart has options that cater to both residential and commercial settings. These indoor fountains are designed to not only enhance the aesthetics of your space but also to promote a sense of well-being and tranquility.

3. Customization: Your Vision, Our Expertise

What sets Waahkart apart is their commitment to customer satisfaction. They understand that every space is unique, and individual preferences vary. That's why they offer customization options, allowing you to bring your vision to life. Whether you have specific design elements in mind or want to tailor a fountain to match your decor theme, Waahkart's skilled artisans are ready to turn your ideas into reality.

Quality That Stands the Test of Time

In the world of interior decor, quality is paramount. Waahkart takes pride in using the finest materials and the latest manufacturing techniques to create fountain pieces that not only look exquisite but also stand the test of time. These fountains are built to endure various environmental conditions, ensuring that they remain a part of your decor for years to come.

Captivating Design Themes

Waahkart's fountain collection draws inspiration from India's rich cultural tapestry. From traditional motifs that pay homage to India's heritage to contemporary designs that reflect the country's modern sensibilities, each fountain tells a unique story. Whether you want to add a touch of spirituality with a religious-themed fountain or prefer the elegance of a classic design, Waahkart has something for everyone.

A Holistic Decor Experience

Waahkart's commitment to providing a holistic decor experience extends beyond their products. They understand that selecting the perfect decor piece is just one part of the journey. That's why they offer exceptional customer service, ensuring that your shopping experience is seamless and enjoyable.

Their website is designed to provide you with all the information you need to make an informed decision. Detailed product descriptions, high-quality images, and easy navigation make it a breeze to explore their fountain collection and find the piece that resonates with you. Elevating your decor in India is a journey that involves not just selecting decor pieces but also choosing those that reflect your unique style and personality. Waahkart's exclusive fountain collection offers a treasure trove of options that do just that. With a legacy of excellence, a commitment to quality, and a dedication to customer satisfaction, Waahkart has become a trusted name in the world of interior decor.

So, whether you're looking to create a serene outdoor oasis or transform your indoor space into a work of art, Waahkart's unique fountain pieces for decor in India are ready to accompany you on your decor journey. Discover the magic of fountains and let them be the centerpiece of your decor, adding elegance, charm, and a touch of India's cultural richness to your space.

Visit: - https://waahkart.com/

Call Us- 7400674006

[sapphicknightaesthetic]

Prompt #2: The winds call me back to you

Ireland had proved to be more than Eivor had bargained for. She sailed home on the wind-tossed sea, wondering if the trade routes, outposts, and alliances she forged would prove to be worth it in the end, compared to their exorbitantly high cost. She remembered Barid’s eyes, soft but desperate, pleading with her to ensure  King Flann’s allegiance with his last breath, paired with an intensity of his love for his son. He had built a thriving city all so that Sichfrith could prosper...

“...Valhalla need not be a place, Eivor. It can be a legacy…”

She thought about her own legacy. Her intention had always been a life dedicated to fighting for honor, for the glory of her people, for some measure of peace where she no longer needed to pick up her axe to defend them at every turn. But is that what England had given her? She had spent much of her energy and immense skills at the whims of others with political aims and goals, not always aligning with her own. She had placed more than one puppet king on a throne, often needing to choose between the better of two evils. Was this honor? Was this a legacy worthy of entrance to Valhalla? 

Eivor felt exhaustion roll through her like the tide, filling every crevice. She felt unsure of her place in the world, and just needed the comfort of home. Of Randvi. That was her raison d'être, as Estrid would say. Her reason for being. If she fought for the betterment of her clan, if she made connections and alliances to ensure their safety, that was all that mattered. She shook the sad cobwebs from her mind, determined to have a genuine smile for her wife when she returned. She leaned against the firm wall of the longship, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

Birna shook her shoulder. “Come on Sunbeam. Home time.”

Eivor’s eyes fluttered open, she blinked sleep back to its void. “Have we docked?”

“Not yet. We’re just around the bend.”

“Thanks for waking me, Birna.”

“I’m so glad to be rid of Ireland! Those Druids were something else, eh? Giving decent Pagans a bad name.”

“Mmmm.”

“Eivor, I don’t mean to pry. But you spent a lot of time with that red haired witch...what’s her name…”

“Ciara. I did. What’s your question, Birna?”

“I’m just wondering if you made any Druid magic of your own in that wet bog of a land?”

Eivor rolled her eyes. Birna knew full well she hadn’t, though this question seemed to pop up after every major journey they undertook. Eivor had tried to tell her multiple times that she would never be unfaithful to Randvi, that she could not bed anyone for the sake of it if her heart wasn’t in it. The concept had been lost on Birna, and so the questions had persisted. 

“You know I didn’t.”

“I’m just checking. You do have a type, Sunbeam. That red hair burns like fire.”

Eivor grinned ruefully, shook her head, and turned to look at their surroundings. They were just passing the trined point in the river that led to Grantebridge, the ruins of Duroliponte looming to the Southeast. One more bend and they’d be home. She wondered if Randvi would be there waiting; she had sent Sýnin ahead with a note. The evening was well on its way, Randvi might even be asleep. She pictured their bed, warm and soft, furs piled on top of them as they snuggled together, limbs entwined. More and more, this was what she wanted. The return home was always worth it, and was always something she looked forward to, but lately she no longer wanted to return, she only wanted the simple everyday fact of her and Randvi together, because she had never left in the first place.

She watched, wistfully, as the crew lowered the sails and started rowing, this part of the river too narrow to traverse safely. Her heart rate increased as the Raider’s hut roof became visible, growing closer with each stroke of the oars. She felt a swell of pride as more of her village emerged from the lowland fog. Her village . She had built this place from almost nothing, discarded hovels of canvas and sticks. Sigurd may have claimed it as theirs, but Eivor had been the one to turn it into something to be proud of, something worth protecting. She leapt to the back of the ship’s tail, standing on a ledge. “...Valhalla need not be a place, Eivor. It can be a legacy…” This was her Valhalla, and it would never be complete without the person at it’s centre, at its heart. 

Eivor realized then that while she was proud of Ravensthorpe, Ravensthorpe, much like her former idea of Valhalla, was only a place. Randvi was her true home. She’d go wherever Randvi was, without question. Their love, with all of its storied history of waiting, longing, and hiding, was her legacy. She saw copper hair, cloaked against the oncoming chill of the evening, waiting like a beacon between the posts of the village entrance.

The ship glided silently up to the dock, and Eivor immediately leapt off, running as fast as her exhausted legs would carry her. She grabbed Randvi, lifting her off the ground in a tight embrace, spinning her around. She inhaled Randvi’s scent, spice and fire blending with earth and ink and smoke. Her heart beat Randvi’s name in fast repetition, her hands holding onto her wife as tightly as she dared without hurting her.

“My love,” Randvi whispered, as she held fast to Eivor. “How I’ve missed you.” Her hands caressed the back of Eivor’s newly shaved head, luxuriating in the velvety feel. 

Eivor couldn’t speak, she did not want to break the moment with words, but slowly set Randvi down, quickly finding her mouth and communicating everything she couldn’t say with a long, slow kiss, paying attention to the feel of Randvi’s lips, the warmth of her mouth, the teasing nature of her teeth. 

Claps and pats of hands landed on her back and shoulders from the crew as they walked past the pair. Their hearts never failed to be happy for their Jarl, for the love that she had found and fought for. For all of her sacrifice, for the enormous work she had devoted to make their lives better, they gladdened at the sight of Eivor and Randvi together. They knew how hard her road had been, how much she had suffered, often silently, from such a young age. Her happiness was their happiness, and they showed her whenever they could. Birna let out a whistle. 

“You better get her to bed, Jarlskona.” Birna wrapped an arm around Petra, who had walked down to meet her wife when she saw the familiar Raven sails from her hut.

“Leave them be, love. I’d better get you to bed.” Petra wrapped an arm around Birna’s waist.

“You’ll hear no complaints from me, Petra. Good night, Sunbeam!”

Eivor and Randvi watched them leave, as Eivor sent them off with a wave. Randvi turned back around, seeing the edges of something in Eivor’s face. “What’s wrong, darling? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I have a few cuts and bruises, nothing to worry about, my heart.”

“Thank you for sending Sýnin. I have a bath prepared. And some roast boar, thanks to Petra.”

Eivor felt overcome at the thoughtful care Randvi showed her in all things. “Randvi...thank you.” Was all she could manage. 

Randvi smiled at her, her wife was always so ready to display gratitude, a custom she never tired of, but she furrowed her eyes, wondering what was troubling her usually contented drengr.

“Let’s get you home.”

 

Randvi and Eivor sat in deliciously scented hot water. The worry and tension Eivor had carried home with her evaporated into the steam drifting to the longhouse ceiling. A satisfied smile now constantly fixed on her face. 

“This was a great idea, possibly the best you’ve ever had. And that’s truly saying something.”

“I aim to please, my Jarl.” Randvi felt self-congratulatory at the obvious change in her love’s mood. Years of observing Eivor, of seeing her come home in different states of health and happiness, of finding different ways of tending to that glorious body and soul made Randvi an expert in the proper care and maintenance of her physically ferocious wife. But one truth prevailed among her experience: Eivor always recooperated faster with a bath. 

“Are you ready to talk about Ireland?”

Eivor exhaled. “I will do my best. It still feels...fresh.”

Randvi sat up in the bath, giving Eivor all of her attention.

“You know I went to Ireland to help my cousin, Barid. And I did help, although Barid fell in battle. His High King did not heed Barid’s warnings. We were able to beat the Druids back, but I have been wondering if his death was needless, no matter how good and glorious his end. He died a hero, and is no doubt in Valhalla, but had his words been listened to, he would still be the King of Dublin, and his son would still have his father.”

“It is not up to us to change fate, Eivor. It sounds like the Nornir gave Barid a good death. What else can we ask in this life?”

“The love of the most beautiful and intelligent of women, for a start, at the very least.”

Randvi rolled her eyes and laughed, pleasure and embarrassment mingled together. When she looked back at Eivor, sorrow still crept in the periphery. “Is that all that troubles you, Eivor?”

“The Druids of Ireland are much like us, trying to carve out a life for themselves, trying to hold onto their traditions and culture, though the Christians would willingly wipe them, and us, away if given the chance. There was an extremist faction, the Children of Danu, that were causing all the strife while other Druids were forced to live in fear and even secrecy. It made me wonder if we will ever truly pacify this land. The Christians make no room for anyone else. I…I had to kill a Druid priestess who I thought was my friend, all for a Christian King who would rule over all. Was that honorable? I feel...stained, Randvi. I wonder if the decisions I’ve made in my time here are hurting our people, rather than truly helping. She was misguided, angry, she caused a lot of pain in the land there. I think King Flann Sinna saw the error of his ways in his treatment of the Druids, and he will make amends - he said as much. But these Christians...they can be false as well as unyielding. I’m not sure how far he can be trusted.” 

Memories of Fulke and King Aelfred made her skin prick involuntarily. The Norse and Danes were often met with a great deal more than suspicion and hostility, labeled as barbarians and savages for their voracity in war. But there was something honest and forthright in them as a people; they hid nothing, they lived openly and celebrated the customs and cultures of all who chose to live among them. Sharing resources through a community was their way, regardless of the people that community comprised; yet this was not the way of the Christians. From what she had seen, they feared all outsiders. She was unsure if this was unique to Anglo-Saxon Christians or not, but from all she had experienced, she was not keen to go looking for other examples. 

Randvi found Eivor’s hand under the warm water, and stroked soothingly. Her love never lost sight of the broader view and what it meant for her people. It was one of the many things she adored and cherished about her. She took Eivor’s fingers and brought them to her lips, kissing them lightly. 

“These are large questions, my love. Too large to confront in one night. But I promise I will help you as much as I can in our time come in this land. You try to take care of so many, Eivor Varinsdottir. I fear the world is too big, even for your very broad shoulders.”

Eivor felt her heart flutter. After all these years, after all this time, being with Randvi made her feel like she was falling in love with her over and over again. She never stopped falling. 

“But maybe, just for tonight, you can let me take care of you?” Randvi leaned forward, kissing one cheek lightly, then the other cheek, her nose, her chin, across her forehead, until she found Eivor’s lips, nipping lightly, until Eivor pulled her forward and kissed her with earnest desire. She opened her body, as Randvi lay on top of her in the bath, relishing the closeness after too many months apart. 

Eivor leaned her head back slightly, looking into Randvi’s eyes, darkened to forest green between her desire and the dim candlelight around them.

“Barid said something to me, before the Valkyrie came to claim him. He told me that Valhalla need not be a place, that it can be a legacy.” Eivor held Randvi’s gaze, needing her to feel how much she meant what she was about to say. “I think perhaps for me, it is not so much a legacy, as it’s you, Randvi. You are my home, my Valhalla. After all of our time in England, all of the campaigns, the politicking, the alliances we have paid for with sweat and blood, we could walk away tomorrow and I would not care. The winds always call me back to you, wherever you are.” 

Randvi felt strangely vulnerable, though deeply moved. She felt her heart race to echo and return Eivor’s sentiment. If Eivor ever left Ravensthorpe, Randvi would follow without hesitation. She used the moment to lean down and kiss Eivor again, with unashamed love and lust and pride and longing and hope. Their lives together had not been easy, but it had been worth every moment they had paid. 

She felt Eivor’s hands slide down to her lower back, holding her closely. She felt a hot rush in her center, and decided it was time to leave the bath. 

“Shall we adjourn to our chambers, my Jarl?”

Eivor smirked, knowingly. “Indeed, my Jarlskona.” 

Randvi made her way out of the bath, as Eivor followed suit. Randvi spied some new blade slices over Eivor’s body, and some fresh bruises getting ready to bloom; she’d be sure to kiss them all later. She took Eivor’s hand and led them naked to their bed. Their bed . A place she was never tired of acknowledging. 

Eivor pulled Randvi to her, wrapping her in strong, solid muscle. “I missed you, Jarlskona.”

“And I you, my Jarl.” Randvi pressed her teeth against Eivor’s neck, nipping and sucking her way along the tender flesh under her chin. She heard Eivor’s breath catch, and a gasp after she released skin from her teeth. She moved a hand, cupping Eivor’s sex, feeling the wet traces of her want on her fingers. Eivor bowed her head resting it on Randvi’s shoulder, her breathing deepening with anticipation. This fierce drengr, terror of England and Ireland, great Jarl of a proud clan, was made vulnerable and soft with a single touch. It was a power Randvi knew only she wielded, and she never took it for granted. 

She brought Eivor to the bed, guiding her down. “What would you like, darling?” She purred in a way that drove Eivor wild.

“You. I just want you.”

“I am yours, Eivor.”

And the sound of those words, said by the only woman in the world she needed to hear them from, snapped Eivor out of the worry she brought home with her. As the sounds of their love-making filled the longhouse, Ravensthorpe sighed relief, and for tonight at least, everything was well in the world.

[four-loose-screws]

FE8 Novelization Translation: Book 2 - Front Cover & Other Introductory Pages

Yup, you read that right! It’s time for book 2 already!

And here’s the big announcement - I recalculated the number of parts I’m going to split the chapters into, so I don’t have to take a break in-between books 1 and 2! Some chapters have more scene breaks than others, so it was an easy thing to do without compromising pacing at all.

Let’s get started!!

Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones

Book 2

Written by TAKASE Mie

Illustrated by SUZUKI Rika

Published by Square Enix

(inside flap)

Author

TAKASE Mie

TAKASE Mie was born on July 31st in Tokyo. She graduated from Waseda University. Her recent hobby is the cello, which she was inspired to start learning after watching a certain sailing movie. Though she has dreams of one day being able to play Bach’s cello suites, she still has a hard time with even basic scales.

Cover and Obi Design: atelier THiRD

Princess Eirika vowed to rebuild her home country of Renais, gained the help of their ally nation Frelia, and started to fight back. As her army marches, she crosses paths with all sorts of people, and grows her group of allies. Finally, they make it to Renvall Castle, a critical strategic location for the Grado Army, and attack it. During the battle, she succeeds in reuniting with her elder twin brother Ephraim, who disappeared on the front lines. However, after having only a moment to confirm each other’s safety, Ephraim states that he will march to Grado Castle. Eirika volunteers to travel to the Theocracy of Rausten to support him, but then...

(inside flap)

Illustrator

SUZUKI Rika

SUZUKI Rika currently lives in Yokohama. She is a freelance illustrator who has contributed to titles such as the Monster Collection TCG (published by Fujimi Shobo) and Angels of Dawn (written by KAYATA Sunako and published by Chuokoron-Shinsha, Inc.). She also created the manga Tableau Gate - Volumes 1 & 2 (published by Kadokawa Shoten).

Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones

Book 1

Written by TAKASE Mie

Illustrated by SUZUKI Rika

Table of Contents

Chapter 11: Caer Pelyn                                                                                           

Chapter 12: The Wyvern Rider’s Wrath

Chapter 13: The Desert Palace

Chapter 14: Reunion

Chapter 15: The Day the Empire Fell

Chapter 16: Repatriation

Chapter 17: The Demon King’s Shadow

Chapter 18: Encroaching Trap

Chapter 19: Night in Rausten

Chapter 20: The Lord of the Darkling Woods

Chapter 21: The Continent’s Wrath

Character Introductions    

Eirika

The Princess of Renais. She is kind, and does not like war itself, but still dedicated herself to the current war without hesitation to retake her country, a goal entrusted to her by her father, the king.

Fado

The king of the Kingdom of Renais. In his youth, he was renowned for his military prowess, and he is adored by his people as an honest statesman.

Seth

Though he is the youngest of all Renais’ generals, his loyalty and superb skills in both combat and discernment make him the ideal image of a knight.

Franz

He may have just only become a full-fledged knight, but he has a very serious and earnest personality, and is skilled in combat as well, ensuring him a promising future.

Valter

A general of the Grado Empire also known as the Moonstone. He was discharged from the army for the crime of massacring ordinary citizens for fun. However...

Gilliam

A devoted knight of Frelia with a long history as a fearless soldier. He is a man of few words, but his power is known throughout the entire Frelian Army.

Tana

The princess of the Kingdom of Frelia. In contrast to her friendly personality that is beloved by all of her retainers and servants, she also has military experience, and is an active member of the pegasus knight unit.

Hayden

The king of the Kingdom of Frelia. His resourcefulness is unparalleled, and has earned him the title “The Wise King.” He is a long time friend of Fado’s and spares no effort in aiding Eirika and her allies.

Vanessa

An outstanding knight, even among the prided Frelian pegasus knights. She is very serious, but kind.

Moulder

A priest. Within his calm appearance lies a very intelligent mind. He can not only heal with staves, but is also knowledgeable in medicine.

Selena

A mage general of Grado, also known as the Fluorspar. One of the empire’s three generals. She has vowed her undying loyalty to Emperor Vigarde.

Ross

A boy living in Ide Village in Renais. He is saved by Eirika and her allies when his home is attacked by bandits.

Garcia

Ross’ father. A former troop commander in the Renais’ army known for his dauntless courage. When his wife passed away, he retired from the army to raise his son.

Neimi

A girl born in Lark Village in Renais. Her home was burned down by bandits. She cries easily, but undoubtedly inherited her grandfather’s famous skills with a bow.

Colm

Neimi’s childhood friend. They were the only two to survive the bandit attack on their hometown. He has sticky fingers, but is kind to Neimi.

Artur

He meets Eirika and the others while carrying out the orders given to him by his monastery to purge the lands of monsters. He has a deep love of learning and is a devoted monk.

Lute

Artur’s childhood friend. Though it is true that she is an exceptionally skilled mage, the words and actions she chooses as a result of her confidence in that fact are a bit detached from reality.

L’Arachel

A young woman with a strong sense of justice on a continuing journey to take out the monsters roaming the lands. She actually appears to be of noble standing based upon the way her companions talk to and act around her.

Dozla

A warrior traveling with L’Arachel. He cannot hide the fact that he is her loyal retainer, though perhaps it is more accurate to say that he is not really trying. He’s not one to sweat the small stuff.

Rennac

He is actually a master thief, and just under contract with L’Arachel, but all she does is drag him around everywhere.

Natasha

A cleric being pursued by the Grado Army because she was deemed a traitor. She asks to travel with Eirika so she can spread the word to other nations about the strange things occurring within the empire. 

Joshua

A skilled mercenary who loves to gamble above all else. He becomes Eirika���s ally after losing a bet with Natasha.

Ephraim

The prince of Renais and Eirika’s older twin brother. He is blessed with a strong sense of justice and decisiveness. He also excels in spearmanship, and his skills are highly respected by the cavalier unit.

Kyle

A loyal retainer who has served Ephraim ever since he joined the cavalier unit. An exceptional knight who’s skilled in serving as a guard.

Forde

Like Kyle, he serves Ephraim as both a guard and close confidant. He and Kyle have been rivals since they were young. He is also Franz’s older brother.

Orson

The commanding officer of the Renais cavalier unit. He is a devoted cavalier who has served the royal family for years, and that King Fado trusts deeply, however...

Innes

The prince of The Kingdom of Frelia. He always has a strong sense of duty towards his role as a member of the royal family. He is extremely confident in himself, and has the strength and abilities to back it up.

Myrrh

A girl who is neither human nor monster, but a member of the dragon tribe. She leaves The Darkling Woods to tell the humans about the abnormalities occurring across the continent.

Amelia

A girl who became a soldier because of her respect for General Duessel. However, she feels lost when she learns that he opposes the war.

Gerik

The brave leader of a band of mercenaries. He joins Eirika’s army because Prince Innes hired him as his guard.

Tethys

A dancer whose bewitching dances attract the soldiers around her and heighten their morale. Once she joined Gerik’s Mercenaries, she became an indispensable member of the group.

Marisa

A female mercenary is rare enough, but her beauty and skills make her even more of a diamond in the rough. She is registered in the guild as a member of the same mercenary group as Gerik.

Ewan

Tethys’ little brother. He aspires to become a mage, and convinced a renowned sage to become his teacher. He is at the age where he cannot help but want to be treated as his own person.

Saleh

The sage of Caer Pelyn, and the only person of this age to associate with those of the dragon tribe. His abilities are very widely known. He is also Ewan’s teacher.

Glen

A general of the Grado Empire who is also known as the Sunstone. One of the empire’s three generals. He also questions the current war…

Cormag

A dragon knight of Grado. Glen’s younger brother. He trusts and respects his brother completely, but after a certain event happens, he leaves the Grado Army.

Lyon

The prince of the Grado Empire. He has been a friend of Eirika and Ephraim’s for many  years. His research into dark magic has made him even more knowledgeable in magic than the palace mages.

Ismaire

The beautiful queen of the Kingdom of Jehanna, known as “The Queen of White Dunes.” She has gained the overwhelming support of the people for her accomplishments in running the country since her husband’s passing.

Duessel

A general of the Grado Empire with the title “Obsidian.” One of the Three Imperial Generals. Though he has been accused of being a traitor, he is working together with Ephraim to warn the emperor of the error of his ways.

Knoll

A palace mage of the Grado Empire who studied dark magic alongside Lyon. He is one of the few people who knows the reason why the emperor, once known for his virtue, changed so drastically.

Caellach

A general of Grado known as the “Tiger Eye.” He started out as a mere mercenary, and rose up to his current position, but he is an ambitious person who wishes to rise even higher.

Vigarde

The emperor of the Grado Empire. He is beloved for his virtuous ways, including opening up the national treasury to the people in times of disaster. However, ever since that fateful day, his personality has changed completely, and he began the invasion all of the countries across the continent of Magvel...

Syrene

The commander of Frelia’s third unit of pegasus knights. She is Vanessa’s elder sister by blood, but Tana also looks up to her like an elder sister.

Mansel

The Pontifex who rules over the Theocracy of Rausten. Known for being highly educated and devoted to his beliefs, he is worshiped by the deeply devoted people as the representative of the gods.

Riev

A mage general of the Grado Empire known as the “Blood Beryl.” Ever since he learned the reason for the emperor’s change, he has served the emperor to support his dark ambitions.

[virlath]

harellan

Some time after the second Exalted March against the Dales, Fen’Harel’s title and meaning changed from rebel leader to the god of betrayal.

The Dalish use "Harellan" to mean "traitor to one's kin," but the word does not appear in any elven text before the Towers Age. The ancient root-word is related to "harillen," or opposition, and "hellathen," or noble struggle. The Dalish call Fen'Harel a god of deception, but I posit a far more accurate translation would be "god of rebellion."

===

If you drink from the Well of Sorrows, you are able to enter Fen’Harel’s sanctuary with a secret greeting.

Ar-melana dirthaveren. Revas vir-anaris.

Ar-melana = I, now

dirthaveren = promise (elves refer to it as the Exalted plains)

revas = freedom

vir-anaris = path/way(passage) of time ? (this is an interpretation based on the word bellanaris/bellanar)

I realise many people often translate vir-Anaris to the “way of Anaris”, but I disagree. If we’re going by consistency I would expect the phrase to be “vir-Anaris” and not “vir-anaris”.

Given that we know the elven language is intentional, I interpret the phrase to mean “I promise my time in the fight for freedom” . In other words, his rebels dedicated their lives to his cause, which was a weighty promise considering they were immortal.

Anyone who wanted to enter Fen’Harel’s sanctuary were made to promise this. Sure, none were beholden but by choice. But the blessing also says “He leads only those who would help willingly.”

The Promise of Fen’Harel

A wash of powerful magic carries a pang of hope. Images flash by: a man in wolfskin standing with a group of freed slaves, clasping one's arm in friendship. Words aren't so much heard as felt:

"Fen'Harel has been falsely named a god, but is as mortal as any of you. He takes no divine mantle and asks that none be bestowed upon him. He leads only those who would help willingly. Let none be beholden but by choice."

This is because Fen’Harel also made a promise to them in return.

The specifics of his promise aren’t elaborated on, but based on the Skyhold codex (which I’ll break down later), I think it’s safe to say it was the promise of freedom and freedom of choice. I also think there is a possibility the promise he made to his people formed the foundation of the meaning of dirthavaren.

Dirthavaren is often referred to as the Exalted Plains, land promised to the elves by Andraste. If you connect enough dots though, I believe the elves’ search for a homeland can be traced back to the promise made by him - that they would one day be able to live freely on land they could call their own.

When the veil was created, Fen’Harel fulfilled his promise to the rebels, ensuring their freedom and imprisoning the false gods for “eternity”. However, this came at the price of the elves’ empire and immortality- a loss many of the elves likely never even imagined was on the cards to begin with. 

Not only did the survivors of Arlathan have to suddenly contend with a vast new world sundered from the Fade, they could now also age and die, a fearful thing to consider when you realise these beings likely previously existed for millenia.

The pages of this book—memory?—show a solemn group of elves in an ampitheater of living wood, entire trees grown into seats and stairs for the listeners to recline on. Two other elves and a spirit of learning are speaking in turn on ways to bend the properties of the material world when casting spells. At the end, the spirit, with the air of a senior lecturer, floats forward and booms in a surprisingly deep voice.

"The unchanging world is delicate: spells of power invite disaster and annihilation. The unchanging world is stubborn: the pull of the earth fiercely resists making fire run like water or stone rise like mist. The unchanging world rings with its own harmony. Listen with fearless hearts, and great works will unfold."

Without warning, survivors were thrown into the unchanging world where their magic now invited annihilation.

Clans and tribes gave way to a powerful empire called Tevinter, which—and for what reason we do not know—moved to conquer Elvhenan. When they breached the great city of Arlathan, our people, fearful of disease and loss of immortality, chose to flee rather than fight. With magic, demons, and even dragons at their behest, the Tevinter Imperium marched easily through Arlathan, destroying homes and galleries and amphitheaters that had stood for ages. Our people were corralled as slaves, and human contact quickened their veins until every captured elf turned mortal. The elves called to their ancient gods, but there was no answer.

Slavery relics such as the vallaslin lived on in elven nobles with the hopes it would save them, but the gods didn’t answer because they were imprisoned. And while Fen’Harel’s people knew he had won them their freedom, their mortality (and fear of it) meant the majority of the elven empire was inevitably decimated.

Solas believes in “cause and effect” and the way he won this “victory” is very similar to the Slow Arrow story, or the story about the noble asking him for advice on how to find the woman he desired. 

“Nothing is gained without something being lost”. 

With the eventual fall of the Dales, I presume it was only a matter of time before his people rejected the notion entirely that the Dread Wolf had in fact saved them and so the word ‘harel’ eventually morphed into ‘harellan’.

What care have I for gods I have never seen, for a Maker I do not know? Let others distract themselves with such lofty concerns. I know only this life, I have seen only this world, and I care only for you. 

Mourn for the past—and all that was left there. For we trusted in dreams and perceived immortality. We trusted in promises and in hope. So we dreamed in vain, for we lost these gifts long ago.

===

The creation of the veil

Skyhold, or Tarasyl'an Te'las ("the place where the sky is kept" or, more specifically, "the place where the sky was held back") was once Solas’ fortress and likely the site where he created the veil.

"After he held back the sky to imprison the gods, the Dread Wolf disappeared" - Archivist in Vir Dirthara

Skyhold is filled with elven imagery and old notes and carvings are found throughout the castle as it is renovated. A scratching under a pillar reveals this block of elven text (which was probably translated by Solas ironically)

Skyhold has not just been claimed time and again, but sacked as well. We've managed to uncover some remnants, including a scratching under a pillar that mentions the name given by your witch. Old but still long after the place had been built over. But the author knew something of its first purpose, or at least, something of a legend.

Var'landivalis him sa'bellanaris san elgar Melanada him sa'miras fena'taldin (word missing) Nadasalin telrevas ne suli telsethenera Tarasyl'an te'las vehn'ir abelath'vir (word missing)

Even with assistance from your elf, we managed only a partial translation. Elven is often a game of intents, not direct mapping of phonetic meaning. That means it's a mess.

Our belief transformed into everything. (assertation/problem? uncertain) All time is transformed into the final/first death (uncertain), Inevitable/threatened victory and horrible/promised freedom in the untorn veils, (uncertain) Where the sky is held up/back, where the people give/gain love that is an apology/promise from/to....(missing subject, uncertain)

Mostly complete, as fragments go. The rhythm is strange, not like others I've recorded. Perhaps less a poem than a statement? The elven language does tend to meander.

My interpretation of the elven text, in bold:

Our belief transformed into everything. (assertation/problem? uncertain)

All time is transformed into the final/first death (uncertain),

Inevitable/threatened victory and horrible/promised freedom in the untorn veils, (uncertain)

Where the sky is held up/back, where the people give/gain love that is an apology/promise from/to....(missing subject, uncertain) 

The elves used will to shape their empire. This was a gift and a curse, possibly because it led to endless wars and in-fighting between those in positions of power.

The veil changed the flow of time and "quickened” the elves’ immortality, allowing them only one chance to live, age, and die 

The veil was created to ensure their freedom when the rebellion was threatened (I presume the threat was Mythal’s death). Thus the rebels got the freedom they were promised, but at the “horrible” cost of the entire elven empire.

Fen’Harel fulfilled his promise to his people at Skyhold by creating the veil, however he did so apologetically as the price of freedom was the destruction of the world that they knew. 

Solas says “every other alternative was worse” when it came to the creation of the veil. Given the fact the evanuris were clearly drunk on power and the blight was possibly already floating around too, I’m inclined to believe the urgency was there for him to make that hard decision. I think the biggest flaw in his plan however was that he didn’t seem to warn anyone but instead acted recklessly out of pride and rage.

Where willows wail 

We/it lost eternity or the ruined tree of the People,

Time won't help when the land of dreams is no longer our journey.

We try to lead despite the eventual failing of our markings.

To the inevitable and troubling freedom we are committed.

When we could no longer believe, we lost glory to war.

When the Wolf failed/won, we lost the People to war.

The war against the evanuris didn’t stop with the veil, as evidenced with Tevinter’s ransacking of Arlathan. Thus any memories or guidance that might have been saved by Arlathan’s survivors were just as quickly lost.

===

The din’an shiral / journey of death

The veil was the lesser of many evils, and it could even be argued it did/will end up saving many lives in the long run. Solas however only sees the ruins of a once grand, golden empire.

Imagine, waking up after millenia and realising the people you freed have become subjugated and live in squalor? Imagine encountering the Dalish and realising the majority of their culture is formed from relics of slavery? Imagine leading a rebellion fighting for freedom, only to be branded a traitor and god of betrayal by his own people in the aftermath? 

Perhaps he has realised he actually needs to let go of his own pride so he can properly fulfil the promise he made to his people, hence the di’nan shiral/journey of death.

When he says to Flemeth “...the failure was mine. I should pay the price...but the people..they need me”, she understands he is still beholden to the promise he made to them, because as it is, the elves have basically lost everything of their once grand empire.

When Solas encounters Nightmare in the Fade, Nightmare says to him:

Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din. 

Learn my traitor. You were not victorious. Your pride will be your death.

And Solas replies:

Banal nadas

It was long speculated before JoH that “Banal nadas” meant “Nothing is inevitable”, however Jaws of Hakkon revealed “telanadas” actually means the latter. Considering the fact the dialogue in JoH very specifically underscores the word’s meaning (In the old tongue, your name, Telanadas, means nothing is inevitable. I will remember your name and hope.) I’m inclined to believe “banal nadas” means something more specific.

banal = negates (inferred from banal'vhen=astray, banal'abelas, banal vhenan=you’re not sorry, you’re not my heart) 

nadas =  something that must be (inferred from telanadas=nothing is inevitable, mala suledin nadas=now you must endure)

It’s a fuzzy interpretation, but I think the phrase could be a negation to Nightmare’s assertion that his pride will be his death. Solas is rejecting Nightmare’s mockery as he is now willing to let go of his pride and potentially his life to save what’s left of the elven people. 

This is where it gets interesting, because his collusion with Mythal is one of the biggest mysteries to me. Did anyone else influence the creation of the veil or was it Solas’ own single-handed creation? Do Solas and Mythal’s end-games align or will his absorption of Flemeth’s power come back to bite him? Does Solas have a new plan for imprisoning/killing the false gods for good? Or is he actually planning on reinstating/working with allies from his time once the veil is destroyed?

When you say to him “you would murder countless people?”, he replies “wouldn’t you, to save your own?” 

Considering he doesn’t consider the modern elves as his own people, who actually are the people he is intending on saving?

And- this is the kicker for me- the fairy in the Tiniest Cave  quest says this cryptic message:

"He'll remake the world to suit his desires. His chosen to reign." 

Given the fact that I don’t think Solas was working alone in the rebellion, and the fact Flemythal went out of her way to save the old god soul, I’m starting to think they both have diverging plans for how everyone will be led into this new age of existence. This will obviously be a sticking point, because Morrigan was groomed to be the inheritor who awaits the next age, something I could see Solas disapproving of.

Now we know from TN that Solas’ plans involves “saving the world” and that he is “sympathetic to elves”. While all of this may be true, the reason you cannot sway him on his path is because his primary motivation is upholding the promise he made to his people. Perhaps he even intends to clear his name in doing so, whether that is by exposing the evanuris as frauds once the veil is destroyed (maybe his pride will come back to haunt him after all, depending on your relationship with him in DAI) or by destroying the eternal/Black city for good.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5816 Chapter: 38/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

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Chapter 38

Watching Madara address the council was an exercise in patience. Not because he didn’t believe in what his husband was saying or even because he found listening to be difficult but rather because the confidence practically dripping from him was very attractive and Tobirama wanted nothing more than for this blasted meeting to end. He had a husband to violate in whichever empty room presented itself for his convenience first. 

The Police Force Initiative truly was the right place for him here, a job where his passion for the people under his care shone through in such a way that no one could deny he believed in this village. Never had Tobirama loved his husband more than as he sat and watched him advocate for a larger budget just so he could serve better, protect better, provide for the men and women who would be under his command so he could give them the tools they needed to serve the citizens under their protection. It was like watching him slot in to place and flourish right before their eyes. Tobirama was captivated. 

And happy. It may have taken a year or so but everything was finally coming around to how it should be - for all of them. Even Izuna looked more relaxed than ever where he sat farther down the table. Tobirama himself had been the one to suggest that he attend council meetings as the head of ANBU and therefore the crux of all information flowing in to the village. He’d let his brother-in-law think it was Tajima’s idea, though, happy to rely on the man’s ego and propensity for claiming every good idea was his own. At least in this instance it served to protect someone else’s ego for once. 

“A pretty speech,” one of the minor clan Heads spoke out as Madara wound down. “But do you have the documentation to justify this proposed budget?”

“I do. If you would but open the dossier I handed out you would see that.” Unwilling to bend, Madara stared the other man down until he had no choice but to give in and open the packet that had indeed been given as soon as the subject was broached. Right there on the first page was a table of contents. And prominently listed in that table would be evidence to back up why Madara needed the money and where he would be getting it from. 

Tobirama didn’t bother to smother the look of pride he could feel on his own face, undamped by the pressure headache that had been slowly mounting in his temples over the past hour. He hadn’t needed to offer many changes after Madara asked him to look the packet over. The work was good and it was all to his husband’s credit. 

“Now, if the council would be good enough to indulge me a little farther, I’ve already spoken with the head of village security and Touka-san has agreed to a joint training program which I’d like to detail for you now.” 

“What’s the point in training you both together?” A light scoff came from the Hyuga heir. “Wouldn’t that be more expensive?”

“Cheaper, actually, since we wouldn’t need to provide two dedicated training facilities.” Madara lifted his eyebrow but it was not a defensive expression, merely a judgmental once. 

The young Hyuga folded his arms. “We already have many training grounds.”

“If my officers and the security teams work together we will have a better understanding of each other’s patrol routes, better response times, tighter protocol for who has jurisdiction over what, and also go fuck yourself.” Several people in the room covered their mouths, whether to gasp or snicker, but Madara only blew a bit of fringe away from his face. Clearly he was nearing the end of his already short fuse. 

Butsuma stood up with the clear intention of bringing him to order but he was interrupted before a single word had time to pass his lips as the door burst open to admit three men, two of them panting and wild-eyed. 

“An emergency!” the more put together man cried. “Danger!” 

“What is the meaning of this?” Butsuma demanded. 

“It’s coming! It’s coming our way! Straight for us!” One of the clearly exhausted men gave a shudder. “We’re all doomed…” And with that his eyes rolled back in his head, crumpling to the floor in a dead faint. 

His companion did not waste time checking on him.

“We’re from the team that was sent to investigate the massive chakra presence. I-I know you won’t believe me. But I swear! It’s a tailed beast! A massive fox with nine tails and teeth as long as I am tall and it’s coming for us! It’s coming this way!” 

“Someone tell me what the hell this idiot is blathering on about,” Tajima grumbled.

On his feet still, Madara's quiet voice was just loud enough to reach the whole room. “I thought the tailed beasts were just legends. They can’t be real.” 

“They’re real,” the soldier moaned. “This one is. It’s massive! And it- oh god. Tetsuo…it ate Tetsuo…” 

At last the stress of what he had seen appeared to catch up with him as well. He didn’t faint like his companion but he did waver, catching himself against the wall and sliding down until he could bury his face against his knees like a terrified child. Though Tobirama hated to leave anyone in such a state he understood that this was obviously a crisis on their hands. Psychological breaks could be dealt with later. Right now they needed to think about saving lives. 

Unfortunately organizing themselves did not seem to be the first thing on either of their supposed leaders’ minds as it should have been. Butsuma and Tajima were both out of their seats but their eyes were locked in the sort of staring contest that generally prompted the rest of the council to simply sit back and wait out the proverbial dick measuring contest. 

“It will take time to gather our forces,” Tajima murmured as if to himself. 

“Such a beast cannot be allowed to simply enter the village unheeded,” Butsuma answered, finally something they agreed upon. “Time must be bought.” It was just too bad that what they agreed on was something utterly stupid. 

“Consider it done. I myself will go; I will hold the beast at bay until our people can answer the call to arms.”

“You will not go alone.” 

They stared each other down until Tobirama felt his temper snap. “This is not the time to worry about pride!”

“My son is correct. Now is the time for action. If you still have fight in you, Uchiha, then let me show you how hot my own fire burns. We take the beast on together.” Butsuma tilted his head in challenge, one his counterpart was only too ready to accept. 

“Perhaps not the words I would have chosen,” Tajima said. “I go to protect my village. If you should happen to come along that is your choice.” 

They moved towards the window at the same time with all the intention of men who would not be swayed from their paths and even Tobirama himself was startled to hear his own voice call out for Butsuma to wait. More surprised still when the man actually paused to look back at him. He wasn’t even truly sure why he’d done it. Knowing the danger descending upon them all, for the first time since he was a child Tobirama looked at the man across the room and saw his father. Not a good one, no, but the man who sired him all the same. 

“Be safe,” was all he said.

He should have expected no less than the puzzled frown that was his only answer before Butsuma turned to leap after Tajima, unwilling to take even a moment for his own son in the face of allowing his rival to upstage him in any way. So much wasted breath. In their wake the room was silent but there was no time for that, someone needed to get these people moving. 

“Alright,” Tobirama snapped, taking up the responsibility of leadership only because no one else had yet. “While they slow the beast we need to gather our forces. Izuna, you have your own people to organize and you know their skills best. Move fast, hit hard, and the rest of us will do what we can to keep the attention off of you. Shimura-sama, wake my cousin. Touka’s patrol teams can make a perimeter around the village as a last defense.” Both of them nodded and darted off. 

“Won’t we need them on the field?” Hashirama asked. “We should throw everything we have at it!” Tobirama shook his head.

“Even if the fight doesn’t reach the village the debris or backlash of it might. This is supposed to be some legendary massive beast and the civilians cannot be left unprotected.”

“Right! You’re so smart, little brother!” His smile was sharper than usual, the adrenaline of an upcoming battle hardening his normally soft edges. A look he hadn’t worn since peace was made. 

Tobirama let that pass; there were other things to concentrate on. “The InoShikaCho clans have extensive experience working together. All available bodies from those clans not enrolled in the ANBU or the patrol teams should be allowed to work as a unit. Do not concentrate on bringing the beast down. Try to slow him, stop his movement, control the field. Madara, you and Hashirama are our two strongest fighters and the Uchiha can move faster than most. I don’t mean to put our people in the line of danger–”

“We’re as ready to fight for our homes as anyone else.” His husband tossed a bit of fringe away from his face. “Attack, not defense?” 

“The Uchiha have always been particularly good at burning whatever lies in their path,” Tobirama agreed with the shadow of a bloody smile. He was pleased to receive one in return.

“And the rest of us?” The Hatake clan heir looked ready to sink her teeth in to something already. 

Tobirama opened his senses and winced at the sensation of the mass of brilliance bearing down on him. It was a miracle his latent sensing hadn’t felt it as more than a mounting headache, though he supposed that by now he’d grown used to living in the center of so many different signatures all piled on top of each other that a gradual increase simply hadn’t been all that noticeable. 

“Support,” he said, a snap decision, wondering at how easily this room of leaders had decided to allow him to take control. “Fill in the spaces when you can. Remove any of the fallen if needed, escort the wounded to medical attention, and allocate a small team to prepare extra weaponry for standby. Hyuga-sama, instruct your people that defending their comrades is more important than attacking the beast. We will not win this battle if there are none left to fight it.” 

In the distance something rumbled and Tobirama shuddered at the massive wave of chakra that rolled over them. The beast was angry. 

“We are running out of time. Prepare for battle.” 

The room scattered as each of them rushed towards their weapons and armor. Fighting in their casual daily outfits could only accomplish so much no matter that each of them surely kept some kind of blade on them at all times. Butsuma and Tajima had promised to buy them time; they would be fools not to use it. 

Without a word Tobirama snagged his husband’s arm and reached for one of the markers he had set up around their home. Almost before they had finished shifting through space he was moving, reaching for the stand where his armor sat waiting after its latest repairs. He got one hand on it and then scowled as he was forcibly turned around, irritated to be stopped, ready to tell the other man off for interrupting him. Annoyance melted away as he was pulled down in to a fierce kiss. 

“You will be careful,” Madara snarled in his face. “I will not sit by your bedside and pray for your life again. Don’t you dare do that to me.” 

“I expect you to do the same,” he said quietly.

“Obviously. If that dumb monster so much as thinks of hurting even a hair on your head I will rip its bloody heart out. Twice you’ve been hospitalized in one year! I refuse to see it happen again!” Still grumbling under his breath, he released his iron grip and stomped over to pull his own armor off its stand. 

Tobirama watched him with a full heart. “At least you did not need to sit with me through the second time.”

“Yes, because leaving you in Izuna’s care will always turns out well!” 

After that they garbed themselves for war in silence. Strapping himself in to his armor felt to Tobirama almost the same as strapping another persona on to his skin. Here in their home it was sometimes hard to believe the soft and openly loving husband he had become but those feelings had no place in battle. Though it caused him something akin to physical pain he boxed those parts of himself away and firmly closed the lid on them, tucked away to leave his concentration free for observation and strategy, the sort of clear thinking that would keep him alive to come home where he could open that box again. 

If there was one silver lining to this situation it would be the chance to see Madara in all his glory once again, a veritable god of war in blood red armor and that distinctive gunbai strapped to his back.

“Let’s go,” he murmured. They had no more time to waste on soft words or meaningless compliments. As they dashed out in to the frigid temperatures outside and took to the rooftops Tobirama promised himself that later he would spend hours describing for his husband just how incredible he looked with that fierce expression – then he very carefully shoved that in to the box as well and locked it shut. 

Just past the edge of where the village wall was still being upgraded they crossed paths with Izuna, directing his ANBU with last minute instructions. 

“You know what we really need?” he called as they passed him by, breath misting in the air. “A fucking alarm. A village-wide alarm system so we don’t have to go running around like chickens gathering everyone up if this shit happens again.”

“That…is a good idea,” Tobirama admitted. 

Izuna stared at him. 

“Why don’t you give that some more thought and if we both survive we can hash out some ideas later.” When he turned he managed to catch just the edge of a thoughtful look on the man’s face as they continued on their way and leaped out of sight.  

Figuring out what direction to go wasn’t hard. Even without the sounds of destruction and the clouds of dust and smoke rising slowly from the forest there was the oppressive weight of that chakra signature, close enough now that even the most insensitive shinobi would be able to feel it there, hovering at the edge of their mind like a wild animal dragging sharp teeth along their consciousness. It was not a pleasant feeling. 

Tobirama and Madara kept speed with each other as they darted through the trees, matching step for step and weaving through the branches in perfect unison. Battle had called them and they had answered. All of Tobirama’s instincts cried out for him to strategize and make plans but he recognized that it was useless until he was able to see the situation for himself. He’d never fought a tailed beast before let alone the Kyuubi itself, the strongest of the nine. Trying to plan for something like that was like trying to plan for the path of a tornado; there was simply no predicting what would happen until it did. 

Much easier was determining that they were getting close. As soon as they began to encounter long swaths of forest crushed or burnt they increased their speed. Tobirama pushed through the discomfort of that massive signature to find the cool green feeling of his brother and directed them that way. Shinobi of their power served best at the front no matter the danger they faced. 

Seeing the beast for the first time nearly stopped them both in their tracks, however. It didn’t matter how brave a man was, seeing a creature several stories taller than the administration tower would have been a sight all on its own. The oppressive weight of the thing’s hatred was something else entirely. 

“We have to fight that,” Madara breathed, his voice only just audible over the commotion around them. 

“No,” Tobirama said. “We have to stop it. Let’s go.” 

Several bodies lay still in scattered places throughout the carnage, others darting in to carry them away, but Tobirama’s eyes found several directly beneath the feet of the Kyuubi where they could not be safely retrieved. He dismissed them. Later he would mourn the loss of life. Right now he would do what he could to protect the living. 

Hashirama fell back to meet them as they approached and Tobirama felt his heart clench at the sight of tears streaming down the man’s face. 

“Are you injured?” he demanded. Hashirama shook his head. 

“Later,” he choked out. “We have to put this thing down before it takes more.” 

“Right. Then let’s do that.”

One quick survey told him that the people of the village were indeed following the strategy he had quickly laid out. To one side Nara cast their shadows to snare legs and tails, Yamanaka threw their own consciousness’ out in an attempt to take over the beast’s, and the Akimichi stood over them both with their bodies expanded to massive sizes, deflecting the lashing tails and protecting their friends.

Hatake and Inuzuka harried the flanks while several Aburame attempted to guide their insects in to any orifice they could use for an inside take down. Uchiha sent flames from the front in brilliant displays while Senju used the earth and the river to push and pull, attacking, attempting to knock the thing off balance. The Hyuga clan were spread through the rest of them, each paired up with another shinobi and moving in tandem as though this battle were a well-practiced dance. Directing attacks to the targets with the most deadly potential, rotating or using their Byakugan to deflect incoming debris, they made the perfect support for anyone lucky enough to work with them. 

Just watching their village come together in such a way was enough to make a man burst with pride and yet for all their efforts they made very little progress. Bodies fell and others dashed in to remove them. Screams and thunder rent the air in a near constant litany of destruction. 

“I’ll take its head,” Hashirama declared, legs coiling in readiness. 

“The back,” Madara claimed. “Watch me tame that fucker.”

“Hold,” Tobirama snapped. 

Amazingly enough, they did as he asked, holding until suddenly waves of ANBU burst from the trees in a concentrated attack. Then Tobirama ducked his head to bare his teeth.

“Now, while it’s distracted!” 

Hashirama burst forward with his hands already forming signs. Spires of mokuton burst from the ground at his command to reach for the beast’s face and muzzle its jaw. Deep in its throat the Kyuubi snarled – then he screamed with rage and pain as Madara hit him from behind with the largest Grand Fireball the field had seen yet that day. 

Letting the two of them work ahead as a distraction, Tobirama scattered kunai marked with his special seal. As soon as he had the layout of the terrain solid in his mind he reached for one and appeared directly under the belly of the rampaging animal. With so much water already scattered about it was the work of a moment to gather a large puddle and swing his arms upwards to slice at the soft flesh above his head, an attack that he hoped was doubly painful with the temperature of the water only barely above freezing. He was gone before the answering scream was finished and gathering more water to go for the hamstrings.

Before he could get close enough a great roar shook the earth and destabilized his footing as the Kyuubi broke through its wooden muzzle, snapping at the branches that reached to capture it again. Tobirama flashed to his brother’s side and pulled him out of the way just in time for one of the many tails to come crashing down where he’d just been standing. 

“Thanks for the save,” Hashirama cried. “Let’s try this on for size!” 

Only once had Tobirama even seen him use that massive scroll he carried in to battle but it was a testament to how seriously his brother was taking this fight when he threw it down and unrolled it, slamming his palm in to the center. When his summon appeared it carried them both up on its shoulders to tower over the forest and draw their opponent’s attention all to themselves. The Kyuubi didn’t look terribly impressed to see the Several Thousand Hands but Madara clearly was – and just as clearly did not intend to be left behind. 

“You think that’s something? I am the one you should be worried about, fox!” His voice came from the ground a moment before he was raised up above it in the headpiece of a fully formed Susano’o. 

“Together, my friend?” Hashirama called to him.

“Eat my chakra dust!” Madara hollered back. 

Despite his words they moved in sync as only the best of battle partners could. Tobirama spared a moment to roll his eyes at their antics even as he cast one of his kunai and followed it through the air, summoning the river to his purpose. 

With their strength combined and aid from all the other clans the amount of injuries dropped significantly, though the battle was still a hard one. The tide was turned with the arrival of Mito, her usual orderly outfit replaced with the minimalistic battle gear of a true Uzushio warrior. With delicate grace she evaded the reached claws attempting to crush her spine and wove between the hundreds of wooden fists slicing through the air to land at her husband’s side. Tobirama appeared at his other a moment later. 

“I can seal him,” she announced confidently. “But nothing inanimate will be able to hold that much energy. If I seal him it will be in to a living creature. A person.” 

“Any volunteers?” Tobirama asked dryly. 

“That sounds incredibly dangerous.” Deftly weaving his signs still, Hashirama kept the beast distracted with his summons while they spoke. “Would his chakra not tear the person to shreds?” 

Mito shook her head. “No. This is why I did not come until now; I have been modifying the seal we use to make storage scrolls and I believe that it should contain him so long as there is another chakra to give the array power. Their life will be the safeguard that holds him.” 

“I will do it,” Hashirama declared. He looked determined until she laid her hand on his arm.

“No, it cannot be you. The head of one clan with so much power would unbalance the rest. I believe it should be me. It would be dangerous for whoever takes this responsibility to leave the village and I hardly do so already.” 

“Make a decision,” Tobirama snapped. “We don’t have time to sit around and chat it over all day. Yes or no, Anija!” 

“May the kami forgive me. Yes. Do it – and fast.” 

She gave one sharp nod and then Mito turned towards the Kyuubi with fire in her eyes the likes of which few had seen and lived to speak of. With barely a thought Tobirama was away at his own husband’s side, suspended within the Susano’o. 

“On my mark be loud. As much of a distraction as you can be. Draw its attention and hold it.” 

“Understood.” 

Tobirama trained his eyes across the shifting mass of fur between him and his brother, watching until Mito’s tiny form shot forward.

“Now!” 

Purple flame exploded outwards in a Grand Fireball nearly the size of the Kyuubi’s head, singing fur and flesh and drawing a scream that must have shaken the mountains from one side of the continent to the other. Several of the men and women scattered below dropped to clap their hands over their ears even as Mito, brave and beautiful Mito, flung her body straight towards the source. For a single moment she existed as a streak of flame across the sky, red hair spilling behind her like a banner as her traditional buns unraveled with the force of such a violent movement. 

Then the motion ended as she impacted the beast’s hide palm first, black ink spidering out from underneath her touch. Even the trees themselves quaked with the force of the roar this time, the sound of an animal who knew it was about to be caged. Seeing his chance, Hashirama moved quickly to pin the lashing tails with bands of wood, holding them down for the howls to carry on in stillness. 

When the massive form began to ripple and waver Tobirama almost felt a touch of pity for the thing. To be caged for the rest of his life was something he couldn’t imagine. But the feeling was easy to brush away as he looked out at the carnage surrounding them, steeling his heart to the vision of the Nine-Tailed Beast shrinking in size as it was pulled in to Mito’s body. For such a momentous act Tobirama felt almost let down by the anticlimactic silence when it was over.

Mito stood where the Kyuubi had, tall and proud. Then even from a distance Tobirama could see her tremble before she crumpled to the earth like a doll. Hashirama was by her side almost as fast as though he too was able to utilize the hiraishin. 

Concern warred with the instinct to give the two of them some space and Tobirama married the two urges by asking Madara to dismiss his Susano’o, taking the time to walk across the clearing by the power of his own legs rather than flashing across with the marker Hashirama carried. When they arrived his hands were already limned in green chakra and his brows pulled together with deep concentration. Thankfully for their sanity he did not look too worried. 

“She doesn’t appear to be injured,” he announced as they and several others drew close. “I think the shock of absorbing so much extra chakra was just a little too hard and her mind shut down to protect her until she finds a balance.” 

“Are you alright?” Tobirama asked. His brother looked up at him with a wan expression. 

“I’m…uninjured.”

With a nod Tobirama turned to Madara, gently cupping that precious face with one hand. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine too,” the man growled. He did not, however, pull away from the touch. They held each other’s eyes for a moment of understanding before Tobirama turned back to the pair on the ground. 

“Uninjured is fine but that wasn’t my question. You looked distraught when we arrived.”

“Of course I’m distraught! Look around you!” 

The outburst was so unlike the Hashirama that others knew and shock was plain to see on many of the faces around them. For Tobirama, however, it brought him nothing but a clench in his chest. It may have been years since he heard that tone but he would have remembered the heartbreak it carried until the end of his days. The last he’d heard it they had stood over a fresh grave after burying their mother between the bodies of their younger siblings.

“You know better than most than many injuries can look much worse than they truly are,” he murmured. Squatting down, he laid a hand on the other’s shoulder. “I know it seems as though we lost many lives today but until we get a tally from the medics we can’t know that for sure. Many more could have survived.”

Hashirama lifted his face to show that tears once more streamed over his cheeks. “But they didn’t. They’re gone. He’s gone.” 

“Who is?” 

“Father,” Hashirama whispered. 

A great empty nothingness seemed to echo in Tobirama’s chest as he followed his brother’s line of sight down the path to where the Kyuubi must have met with the first line of resistance. Miles away at this point, he wasn’t able to see where the body of his father lay. He didn’t care to. What state the flesh was in mattered little if the mind had gone cold. 

He waited for the pain. For the sense of loss. The last time he had seen Butsuma’s face it struck him for the first time in years that they were family – not a happy one, perhaps, but blood all the same. Now the man was gone and with him any chance that they might someday recover the relationship that had never had a proper chance to grow. And Tobirama, to his small secret shame, felt nothing. 

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said at last, an empty platitude to fill the silence as his brother continued to stare up at him expectantly. Hashirama didn’t look surprised but neither did he look at all comforted. 

“What are we going to do?”

“Get these people back home, I imagine.” That particular wisdom came from Izuna as the man approached. “I’ve instructed my teams to search the area and retrieve any dead or wounded left behind. They took too bloody long waiting for the right moment to make an attack and I’m not happy with their performance. So now since they didn’t actually see much battle they get to enjoy the clean up afterwards.” 

“Right. Touka can have any of her people who have a talent for earth jutsu restore the forest as best they can until Hashirama is able to see to the trees.” Tobirama nodded to his brother-in-law, unsurprised by the hesitation before Izuna nodded back. 

Between them, Madara craned his neck to peer down the alley of destruction where Butsuma supposedly lay. It didn’t take a genius to guess where his thoughts were drifting. Neither of their first responders had been seen since they dashed off, their blood running hot with reckless competition. If Butsuma had gone to his final rest here in the forest then chances were Tajima had too. Tobirama waited but his husband said nothing, turning his head away with a telling tension at the corners of his eyes. No one present saw fit to mention it. 

“Izu is right,” he muttered. “Let’s get these people back to the village. We’ll need to gather the council for a debrief. Shit, wait, Izuna can you also send one of your people to find the rest of that team who came to warn us? There wasn’t time to ask but–”

“We need to know why,” Tobirama finished for him. 

“On it.” Just like that the man was off again.

Hashirama used the utmost care as he cradled his wife between both arms and lifted her, for once not looking around to see to others before taking off towards safety himself. Although the greater good often took priority over many things in his eyes there were few if any things in this world that could possibly be more important to him than the safety of his beloved wife. Tobirama watched them go and thought to himself that once he had envied their bond. How funny it was to think of it now and realize that he had the same. 

Urging his own beloved to go ahead, Tobirama stayed to organize those wandering around the field looking lost, some of them bearing the frantic expression of those who had lost sight of their loved ones. He urged them to allow the allotted team to comb through the area before descending in to panic. Many injured had already been taken to the hospital and extra bodies milling about would only impede the progress of others reaching the same help. 

At a certain point he had to realize that he was mostly killing time, putting off the inevitable as though hoping that the council would meet without him. Unfortunately he knew the one they would not start without was Hashirama and since he would have taken the time to ensure his wife was more than comfortable in the proper care it wasn’t likely the debrief would have even started yet. Not to mention the fact that Madara was likely to glare the lot of them in to submission if they tried to go ahead without Tobirama’s sizable brain there to point out the angles no one else ever seemed able to see. 

Knowing it would be better to get this over with did nothing to make him feel any more enthusiastic but still Tobirama forced himself to turn back towards the village when there was only petty busywork left to occupy himself with. The meeting needed to happen. As a council they needed to make a decision on how to react to these events and how to proceed now that their two nominal ‘leaders’ had both fallen. Yet something in the back of his mind couldn’t help pretending that if he never went to the meeting then he would never have to admit that all of this was real. 

Clearly he’d been spending too much time in Hashirama's presence for such childish notions to have any hold over him. 

What drove him forward despite his distaste for it all was the same urge which had driven plenty of his most self-destructive urges in the past: his need to know. The need for answers that had a tendency to blot out the rest of the world. Tobirama set his feet towards the village center and he would have damned his own curiosity if he wasn’t so achingly aware that he would have eventually gone anyway. 

Duty had been bred in to him at a young age, pressed in to his skin so deeply it could almost be considered a personality trait on its own at this point. He might drag his feet and put it off but in the end this was his home and he would do what he needed to for this village. That was his duty and Tobirama had long accepted that he was nothing if not a dutiful man. 

To his husband. To his family. To his people. 

[proplinerealty]

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[playgroundrp]

PUBLIC PROFILE:

VI’VA KWON YERIM

SOLOIST

BTS:

Born into family as the only child to working parents, Yerim was used to working alone. She was always hands on with whatever she did, finishing everything with a big smile and a sense of achievement. She took pride in whatever she attached her name to. School was important for Yerim, as she was usually at the top of her class. It only moved down the rankings of priorities when she became a trainee.

Dancing was a hobby she enjoyed in her free time. It was something she was passionate about since she was younger. Once she was old enough, Yerim became a member of a dance crew, honing her skill and adding multiple genres and style to her repertoire. People suggested that she try to pursue dancing professionally. Street casted by an entertainment company, Yerim didn’t look too much into it and assumed that the company would take her on as a background dancer.

However when she auditioned for Midang, she realized what the company were looking for. They were looking for people who become idols, which was something she had no interest in before. The audition went horribly and she doesn’t pass, mainly due to her underwhelming vocals.

She goes home discouraged, but she went home with a goal. She was determined to prove that she was good enough to be accepted. She takes vocal lessons, focusing on developing an acceptable technique and stability. The second time she audtioned a year later, they saw the potential in her. She was accepted and signs with Midang Entertainment. They focus on her singing since it was lightyears behind her dancing abilities. Her training was vigorous so that they didn’t miss out on a potential star and the perfect opportunity to debut her when it was time.

Struggled with her voice at debut. She still wasn’t the best vocalist and hadn’t developed a good breathing technique for singing while dancing. Live performances were used as proof, but Yerim was still good besides that. With each comeback, Yerim drastically improved on her stability and breathing, earning praise and earning new fans as her dancing was still remarkable for that time.

Over the years, Yerim had a peaceful career. Her reputation was as clean as it could be, never catching herself in any major scandals or anything that would land her in hot waters with the general public. However, she did acquire a couple of saesangs who have done some extreme actions in attempts to get close to Yerim over the years. The most well known incident happened to be her worst memory as Vi’Va, as someone found her hotel information and meddled their way into her room. She was unharmed, but the fact that someone was able to be somewhere she thought she’d be safe terrified her. She inspects the room she’s in most of the time just incase.

Yerim is still very open about her life. As Vi’Va, she is fairly active and always updates and interacts with fans. Most of them are satisfied, as she never goes long without updating them on her life or providing them with content. She had learned how to balance her public and private life, and it was easy for her to separate the two from each other. Not many, if any, can distinguish the two and often think that the side of her that she shows on broadcasts is the true version of herself, when it is not the case. She’s extremely private with things that matter to her.

It’s fifteen years later, and she’s still having fun on the stage. But as the oldest active artist under Midang, Yerim also feels pressure to excel due to her longevity. She began feeling like she had to continue because people expected her to instead of truly wanting to. Retirement crossed her mind a few times when she turned thirty as she never really had much of a desire to be an idol in the first place, but it wasn’t like she loathed it. She had watched the new generation of artists, and got to learn why some of them wanted to be an idol. Finding them admirable, Yerim went on a journey to find what she loved about performing. She is still searching for the exact reason, but she had found a good few possibilities over the years.

Considered a important figure in the history of Midang Entertainment due to being the only artist under the company to make it past nine years. There was a decade between her debut and the debut of the second oldest atist under Midang Entertainment, and she can’t help but feel out of place when placed next to her label mates. They make her painfully aware of how long she’s been performing and how “out of date” she may appear to those who comment on her age and question why she’s still performing on stage.

Having dedicated a good portion of her life to this career, she can’t see herself being away from it. Even after she releases her last song and stops performing, she’ll be actively involved in the industry somehow. Yerim could train others and help them prepare for the new world they would soon enter, given that she had years of experience. However, she doesn’t have the rest of her life planned out. She had pursued a degree to have an extra backup plan just incase all fails, but she doesn’t believe that it’ll necessarily be used.

[erictmason]

INKTOBER DAT TWENTY ONE AND TWENTY TWO: Freedom Is The Greatest Treasure (And We Even Have A Ghost On Our Side!)

No matter how many seas will separate us I'll always be there for you Without any fear, heading straight Don't ever forget We fight together

So I might have gone a bit crazy on this one?  

For context: recently @thankskenpenders’ ongoing retrospective of the Archie “Sonic the Hedgehog” came across something very rare: a story I didn’t just not remember but in fact had never read before.  Said story, “Fairy Tale (Or The Adventures of Pirate Sally)”, is, to be clear, Not Very Good?  But the premise was just so 1000% Up My Alley that it lodged itself into my brain anyway, and before I knew it I had in fact dreamed up a whole-hog Pirate Alternate Universe for the Archie “Sonic” crew (with ideas for others not even seen here!).  And this is the result!  If you want to know the details of these takes on the characters (which I have written at length because again this idea just took me like fire), feel free to check under the Read More.

 SALLY ACORN (Captain)

Once, Sally was the Princess of the powerful kingdom of Mobotropolis…until the day, not long after her eighth birthday, the evil Baron Robotnik came to her home.  With his mechanized army he ravaged the land and attempted to hunt Sally and all her family down.  The King attempted to evacuate Sally, her family, and her closest friends out of the city safely…but the ship meant to take them all to safety was sunk, and all aboard were taken for dead.  In truth, however, Sally and her lady-in-waiting, Bunnie, had survived (though Sally had lost an eye in the attack), drifting through the ocean on wreckage from the ship…until they were found by the Dread Pirate Shadow and his young boatswain Sonic. Though Shadow was no friend of the Crown, he ultimately took pity on the lost children and took them under his wing and onto his crew.  Years passed; Sally excelled in her duties aboard Shadow’s ship (the Dark Rider), proving herself exceptionally intelligent, fierce in a fight, and able to shape the most effective plans…but always she dreamed of the home she’d lost, and the monster she’d lost it to.  Ten years later, having risen through the ranks, Sally was made Captain of the ship when Shadow, for reasons he chose to keep secret, decided to step down and leave for parts unknown.  Re-christening the ship The Freedom Stormer, Sally dedicates herself and her crew toward a new mission: acquire enough wealth and forge enough alliances to mount a full-scale attack against Baron Robotnik and reclaim her fallen kingdom.

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG (Gunner)

Sonic has never known his parents or his home; the only memories he has of either are about being on the run.  From who? Why?  He doesn’t really know the answer to that either.  But as a young boy, gifted with supernaturally incredible speed, his aimless travels led him out to sea (an irony, as the hedgehog could not swim), where his tenacity earned him the respect of the Dread Pirate Shadow, who chose to take him aboard his ship as a junior member of his crew. Thus was Sonic there when Shadow took two other children onto his ship, the young Princess Sally and her lady in waiting Bunnie.  Sonic had never shared Shadow’s distaste for the crown (indeed he barely understood what that even really meant) so he bonded with Sally very quickly, and the two became nearly inseparable from that point forwards; as time passed, and their bond deepened, the two learned well how they could always depend and lean on each other in times of need, and it helped both to manage the struggles they held in their hearts.  When Shadow chose to step down as Captain and handed the mantle over to Sally, Sonic held no jealousy; he’d never desired the role of leadership anyway, and was only too happy when Sally named him the ship’s chief Gunner, allowing him to be at the front lines of the action he so craved.  He still doesn’t have that strong an understanding of the politics and conflicts of Sally’s homeland, but he also feels he doesn’t NEED to understand that much: he believes in freedom, and he believes in Sally, and that is motive enough to make him a fiery fighter for the cause he now works so strongly towards.

 BUNNIE RABBOT (Quartermaster)

It was a quirk of fate that led Bunnie to become Sally’s lady in waiting: her parents, wealthy land-owners of the long-lived Rabbaeux family, often attended parties at the palace, and every single time they did, Bunnie and Sally managed to find each other, becoming fast friends who could spend hours at a time playing together. Bunnie’s parents and Sally’s thus agreed to make Bunnie Sally’s lady in waiting so that the two could spend even more time playing together, which they did happily until the day of Baron Robotnik’s invasion.  Though she and Sally managed to escape the sinking of the ship meant to evacuate them, the attack severely wounded Bunnie’s arm and leg; after the Dread Pirate Shadow took her and Sally aboard his ship, both limbs had to be amputated, and ever since, Bunnie has been outfitted with special multi-functioning prosthetics (upgraded over time as she grew older and thus bigger).  Her friendship with Sally has never wavered; the two remain close confidants who place a great deal of trust in each other and it was thus only natural that upon becoming Captain Sally named Bunnie her quartermaster, a role she has fulfilled with her bright spirit, strong fighting skills, and reliable courage.  As well, she’s able to keep the ship one step ahead of the Baron’s fleet, as she has formed a secret relationship with the captain of the fleet’s flagship, Antoine D’Coolette.

 TAILS (Boatswain)

Not long after Sally was made captain of the Freedom Stormer, a mysterious item crossed the ship’s path: a small life boat, a woven basket the only thing to be found on it. How the boat had managed so long without anyone to steer it was a mystery but even more mysterious was what the basket contained: an infant fox with two tails.  There was no indication of where he had come from or why he was adrift at sea, but Sally and the rest of the crew all agreed: as Shadow had done for many of them, so too would they take this child onto their ship and raise him as their own.  Sonic and Sally especially took a key role in taking care of the young boy, who they named Miles for the long journey they knew he must have had on that boat, and he in turn grew up to idolize them both, hoping to one day be a great Pirate just like them. For now, though, he helps around the ship as best he can (in particular acting as look-out, since he absolutely loves being high up in the ship’s crow’s nest) helped by his unique ability to fly with his twin tails; indeed he has begun insisting that he be called Tails, following advice from Sonic that he should not be ashamed of his second tail, but instead take pride in it and the special things it allows him to do that others can’t.

 ROTOR WALRUS (Navigator, Medical Officer)

Hailing from the far arctic, Rotor set out from home as a teenager with the intent of learning everything he could about the world: every discipline, every fact, every skill.  His travelling studies thus enabled him to become a talented medical doctor, cartographer, and even engineer.  That great collection of talents eventually brought him to the attention of Baron Robotnik, who attempted to use his mechanical agents to forcibly recruit Rotor into his service; not desiring to work under the baron, Rotor attempted to flee and was only successful because of the intervention of the Dread Pirate Shadow.  Realizing he would be safest from the Baron aboard Shadow’s ship, Rotor thus offered to work for him instead, acting as the ship’s doctor and navigator. Impressed with Rotor’s show of skills, Shadow accepted, and thus did Rotor enter the position he has retained even now that Sally is Captain.  Sally’s new mission, however, has meant the walrus has also begun having to make more use of his mechanical skills to not only maintain and repair the ship’s existing weapons (and Bunnie’s prosthetics for that matter), but to begin experimenting with and designing entirely new weapons to give them an edge against Robotnik’s forces.

 ANTOINE D’COOLETTE (Royal Captain)

In days of old, Antoine’s father, Armand D’Coolette, served as the Fleet Commander for the Royal House of Acorn…but when the Acorn Family was deposed and Mobotropolis fell under the control of Baron Robotnik, Armand chose to save his family by offering to serve under Robotnik.  The Baron accepted his terms, and the agreement held until Armand’s death several years later. Hoping to protect his mother and younger siblings, Antoine chose to continue to uphold the agreement, and became Captain of the Baron’s Flagship, the Dragoon.  Eventually, the Dragoon was assigned to deal with the Freedom Stormer, which had begun to interfere with Robotnik’s activities more and more.  It was during the pursuit of the Stormer and the many battles the two ships fell into that Antoine came to meet Bunnie Rabbot; impressed not only by her skill in battle but by her strong spirit.  Over time she too came to respect his abilities and realized he served the Baron not out of loyalty but because he wanted to keep his loved ones safe; she thus decided to convince him to act as a kind of Inside Man for the crew of the Freedom Stormer, passing along secret information that could help them counter Robotnik’s moves and keep them safe. Antoine agreed, and has been helping the Pirates ever since, as well as gradually growing closer and closer to Bunnie via the letters they exchange as part of the agreement.

  NICOLE (Ghost)

Before Bunnie and Sally met, the princess’ closest friend was a young girl named Nicole, the daughter of renowned inventor Doctor Ellidy.  But alas, only a year prior to the invasion of Baron Robotnik, Nicole was struck with a deathly illness.  Her father tried everything to save her, but no medicine or science on record seemed effective, and so he resorted to drastic measures, turning to the arcane and occult: through the Ritual of Ixis, he sought to transfer Nicole’s soul into an enchanted gem stone, believing it would cause her original body to fall into a kind of coma that would keep it preserved until such time as a proper cure could be found.  However, the ritual seemingly failed, and Nicole’s body finally gave out. Heartbroken at his failure, Ellidy chose to leave the Kingdom of Mobotropolis, but he gave the stone he had used in the ritual to Sally in honor of her and Nicole’s friendship.  Many years later, however, upon becoming Captain of the Freedom Stormer, Sally, who had taken to wearing the stone as a necklace, would learn the ritual HAD succeeded: Nicole’s spirit lived on within the stone and, through the connection she shared with Sally, she could even emerge in a ghostly form (which for reasons neither Sally nor Nicole fully understands has somehow “aged” the way Nicole would have if she were still alive)!  She cannot retain this state for long as it drains both her and Sally of a great amount of energy to do so, but even so Nicole now uses her ghostly powers to aid Sally and the others in their quest, and Sally has vowed to one day find a way to create a new body for Nicole to inhabit and live anew.

[alas-ward]

Shadow in the Desert [Part 1]

~A Week After Reports of N’Zoth’s Minions in Udlum~

The warmth of the desert was welcoming, even as Alice’s visit was cast in the shadow of the threat spreading through the fertile Uldum river valley. It was Sia’me’s first time traversing long ranges of sand, traveling from Ramkahen to the outlying village, but the raptor did well. As a reward, she took him directly to the clean trough of water and dismounted as he drank deeply.

The village appeared empty, but she knew it was not uncommon for the Tol’vir to sleep during the hottest parts of the day. She was just arriving when the sun started beating down upon the desert and the small oasis, though cooler than the barren sands, was still much too hot for most creatures.

“Welcome home, Niq’fal.”

A voice broke through her wandering mind and she smiled instantly. The Tol’vir language always reminded her of a viper moving over sand. While it had some coarse elements, it was an otherwise beautiful language.

Of course, she also smiled because the name used to address her translated literally to ‘not-elf.’

“This is not my home, Basti,” she corrected as she skipped over to the tent where the tribal leader was lounging. She bent down and hugged him even as he muttered about the definition of home.

“You have returned, and we consider you a part of the tribe, so this is your home, even if you refuse,” he huffed before succumbing to the very human gesture of hugging. “It is good to see you. Where is your mate?”

“I had to leave him back home. He’s integral to the construction of a safe haven for people like us, just like I used to dream about,” Alice replied with a fond smile.

It hadn’t been an easy decision to leave him or Deephaven. It was something Alice and Quin had talked about at great length, weighing every aspect of her plan before they finally agreed the journey was worth the risk. She didn’t leave Quin’s side often, not for great lengths of time, but seeing to the safety of the people who had once healed and protected her was a cause she undertook with pride.

“I have this, though, so he is never far away,” she added as she held up a communicator. Basti smiled knowingly and then gestured for her to enter the large tent.

The war table at the center of the tent was being used for its intended purpose, which was heartbreaking for Alice. When she had lived with the tribe, she had seen a time when that table had become an altar dedicated to peace and prosperity. Now, though, dark patches of sand stood out against the white canvas, and numerous tokens and figures were strategically placed around the threat.

“Did you see it when you arrived?” Basti asked as he laid out a couple of scrolls for her to examine. “The great rift and flying worms?”

“I saw it and felt it,” Alice frowned. “The reports I intercepted about what was happening did no justice to how big this threat really is. I am grateful that the Horde and Alliance armies are moving against these forces, but…”

She trailed off and sighed, knowing that her words would spark no hope. Fortunately, though, she did not have to veil her honesty around the chieftain.

“They do not know what they are up against. Neither do we,” he stated, as if finishing her thought. He gestured to the battle map and smiled sadly. “We have already lost some of our allies to the corruption. Although we have been preparing for something awful since the great sword nearly sundered our lands, we have had no way of preparing for whatever this is.”

Alice nodded but otherwise remained silent. Even she couldn’t know what was happening to Azeroth. She was intimately familiar with the Void and Shadowlands, but this was different. This reeked of Old Gods and madness. It pulled at her mind, as such things often did, but the siren song was in a language she did not know. She could deny it.

At least for now.

“I am here to act as a scout. You may instruct me as you see fit but understand that I am acting as a free agent. I promised Mousey I would return to him.”

“Of course, Niq’fal. You are a welcomed ally. For now, though, I expect you to rest. This party, it is led by my daughter. She will return at sundown with a report. Tomorrow, you will travel with her.”

Alice nodded dutifully and turned to the tent’s exit. “Where am I staying?”

“You know where you are staying. The stable,” Basti smirked. “Your hammock still hangs in the entrance.”

“Oh. Good. I bet it is just rotted enough to drop me on my ass if I try to use it.”

They both laughed, even if there was too little mirth in their expressions. Alice wanted everything to be like it once was, but this was not the time for it.

And if they didn’t stop the vile creatures invading Uldum, there would never be time for it again.

[ Part of a very short life update for Alice. @subjectragnar​ for mentions.]

[ineffablecolors]

THE WIFE [2/?]

The Wife || Ch 2 ~ 5.9 k || Ch 1 || FF.NET&AO3 Summary: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are? A/N: Do check the notes on chapter 1. As for this chapter: vague mentions of past Emma/someone *cough*

She puts some of the cream on the very tip of her finger and contemplates it as if it might hold all the answers to her future.

“Congratulations.”

Emma tenses in her seat but manages to retain her composure enough to not jump out of it or, worse still, let out the curse that hits the back of her teeth. She forces her mouth up into what she hopes might partially resemble a smile and turns to her right.

The lady now sat next to her is what Emma supposes she might have become with the proper tutoring and an otherworldly seamstress. Her blonde hair is lighter than Emma’s and pulled up into one of the most fashionable styles of the day and her blue dress is the most flattering piece of clothing Emma has seen on a woman. Her smile is genuine but not overly warm.

“I’m Mrs Jones. The other Mrs Jones. Elsa Jones.”

“Oh.”

Emma didn’t know Liam Jones was married, known as he was for his business talents and immense dedication to the Jones Brothers shipping company, but now that she actually spares it a thought it makes perfect sense that he would be an equally successful family man. It doesn’t take much to see that Elsa Jones is nothing if not a success when it comes to choosing a bride.

Killian Jones it seems has fallen short of his brother not only in the navy ranks and business hierarchy but on the marital battleground as well. Emma can see herself from across the garden, sitting beside Elsa Jones, and she supposes it is much the same as hanging a plain white shift on the laundry line beside your wedding night garments.

The thought of wedding nights makes her back stiffen and she focuses her attention on the gems in Elsa’s rings as she takes a delicate bite out of her own piece of cake.

“I… didn’t really expect all this,” Emma gestures at the few tables scattered around the garden and the decorated arch she married Captain Jones under just… an hour ago?

It’s not a lavish party by any standard but it is definitely more than Emma imagined their marriage would warrant. She has yet to decide how she feels about this.

“Oh, the cake was simply unavoidable,” Elsa says with an almost conspiratorial smile. “Alice has too big of a sweet tooth. And so does her father, I believe, though he will most likely deny it.”

Emma blinks and wonders why the idea of a gentleman enjoying sugary treats sounds so outlandish to her. Then again—

“I’m not sure I— Regina has always abhorred sugar.”

Elsa glances over her shoulder at her grandmother and leans slightly closer to Emma. Surprisingly, the subtle intimacy of it doesn’t put her immediately on edge.

“Yes, I can tell,” Elsa whispers.

“Yes, Regina has always been very strict about maintaining her figure.”

“Oh, no, I mean that she does look positively bitter.”

Emma’s eyes widen but she manages to turn her snort into a less undignified cough. Elsa Jones – a perfect lady with a perfectly wicked tongue.

This family appears full of surprises. And the cake is quite delicious.

*****

She stands on the second step, her eyes shifting between the floor above and the corridor stretching away below her. The corridor which her husband will walk down any second now to take her up those stairs and to the bedroom they are meant to share for their wedding night and all the nights after.

She is certainly no warmer now, in the gloom of the broad staircase, than she was earlier under the summer sunshine. The coldness is nothing new but the way all her muscles are straining under her skin – as if preparing to propel her out of the nearest door or even an open window – is certainly adding to Emma’s almost perpetual discomfort.

It is paramount that she gets a hold of herself. A tranquil state of mind, it is the only thing that can help her now. Detached – she needs to be calm and collected and detached. There is nothing terribly out of the ordinary about the situation she finds herself in and she needs to realize that – the sooner, the better.

“Ready?”

She startles a little and looks down. Jones is standing at the foot of the stairs and looking up at her, illuminated by soft candlelight his eyes look truly bottomless and the circles under them are even deeper. He has a candle in each hand, the left one’s little plate carefully balanced on the wooden surface of his prosthetic. Instinct tells her to reach for it but she doesn’t wish to overstep some imaginary boundary in their very first minute alone. She is certain he has plenty of experience and can carry more than a couple of candles up the stairs of his home.

Maybe she is wrong or maybe – most likely – he just realizes that she needs something for her fidgeting hands and takes pity on her because he hands her the candle in his right hand before transferring the one on his left into it.

They make it up to the landing before she is certain she has a firm enough grasp on her courage. When she opens her mouth, she takes some pride in how firm her voice is, even if the strain behind it is plain to the ear.

“I believe it has been made known to you that I am not—”

“We can save discussions of what either of us is and isn’t for tomorrow.”

It’s not an order but it is a suggestion that she finds herself willing to accept. His voice is just as deep and husky as it was when they were exchanging marriage vows but it gives off a much different impression in the darkness of the still and quiet house. Emma thinks that’s what the voice of a man who has come back from a long and arduous journey must sound like. It is indisputable that she does not know all about being somebody’s wife but she knows enough about what men who’ve come back from a journey might expect to find.

She has always wondered what the difference truly is – physically, for men. Naturally, there was a time when she felt almost enraged at the notion – the conviction, that a woman touched is a woman impure, that she is somehow less.

Emma is less, by that definition. And by a few others. There may have been ways for her to compensate for that but she has not made the effort to learn what they are. She has remained caught in the horrible middle – no longer pure but not yet experienced.

It is the latter that makes her feet feel heavy now as she raises them to the next rung. She does not care about satisfying her husband tonight. She wonders if women ever do. Perhaps when they are truly in love, but then she wonders if that isn’t just another notion like purity with no true manifestation in the real lives of real people.

No, she worries for her own self and for that her inexperience is a burden as heavy as her impurity, if not heavier. She has laid with a man but twice. Each time hurried, prolonged not a second longer than it took him to reach completion. For such a pivotal moment in her life, the memory of it is an embarrassing blur but not enough so that she doesn’t now recall the discomfort, the fumbling and the pain and then not much of anything but the burn of friction.

That’s all she found in a man she had set her eyes on, a man who made love to her with words before she allowed him to do so with his body – both proved nothing like what she expected and even less like what he promised. And that man had been little more than a boy when it came to the strength of character and experience of body he had.

Killian Jones is a man. What is more, he is her husband and he does not have to lull her with pretty promises and coax her into his bed. She is his wife – his bed is where she belongs.

Her thighs tense and Emma curses silently under her breath as she feels the slightest tremble in her legs. She is surprised – almost mortified – to find herself on the verge of tears. Jones is a solid three steps behind her but Emma has already realized that her mind and body are sensing the approach of something that neither has a fond memory of.

She most certainly needs to get a hold of herself.

“Here.”

Emma turns back, realizing that she doesn’t really know where she is going and why Jones let her lead the way. He turns the knob on a door in deep grey and gestures inside with his candle without actually crossing the threshold.

“This is to be your room.”

Her—

“I trust you should have everything you might need immediately. Ruby will take you shopping first thing tomorrow. As soon as you are ready that is.”

Her room. Those two words together fail to make sense in the situation that the two of them currently inhabit, no matter how Emma turns them around. Tis two words, there aren’t that many different ways she can turn them.

“Alice’s room is right across,” Jones adds and she realizes he is still standing at the door – her door – illuminating the entrance but not actually entering. “And my own chambers are at the very end.”

He nods to himself and finally lets the arm holding his handle settle back at his side, his left is angled slightly behind him as if he is half prepared for a bow. Or hiding something.

“I—“

“If you need anything—“ he cuts off with a glance toward the end of the corridor where his room is apparently situated.

Her room. His room.

He nods again.

“Good night.”

She watches the wild flame of his candle move down the corridor with him. It’s when he is half a dozen paces away, his steps heavy yet barely audible and his form the only solid thing among the shadows, that she remembers he gave her a candle of her own to light her way.

*****

Her bedchamber is unnecessarily spacious. It is the first thing that crosses Emma’s mind as she lifts her head from the pillow in the late morning. The sun has climbed high enough that the light is winning the battle with the curtains – brightness filtered through slate blue makes the corners of her room much clearer than candlelight did the night before.

Her wedding night which – for reasons yet wrapped in the temporary cobwebs of sleep and the more permanent mystery of Killian Jones – she spent alone under three blankets, all in different shades ranging between blue and green. Most of everything in the room is soft shades of those two colours and little seems ill-chosen or out of place. Just the sight of the fireplace sends tingles of anticipation over her whole body.

Emma curls her toes and buries her nose in the white nightgown she found waiting for her the night before. It smells fruity and sweet like jam and, before she has truly decided to let her emotions reign for a moment, her eyes are already prickling for the second time in only so many hours. This time the feeling is much different.

She is as uncertain of herself and everyone in this house as she was when she first set foot inside it the day before, she is much more perplexed and still a fair bit uncomfortable. But Emma is no longer afraid.

*****

“About time.”

She has to give credit to the old woman, her words are just quiet enough that she can deny uttering them and just loud enough to make sure Emma hears her and all the judgement she can infuse into three syllables.

It is an admirable effort, certainly, but Emma grew up in a house with Regina Mills and her lady’s maid Zelena, her experience with judgement is on a level that, she is confident, is rarely achieved in the Jones household.

And she rather deserves the cook’s evil eye. After sleeping in a bed fit for a princess, she is tumbling down the stairs for breakfast at an hour befitting one. Her dress – Alice’s, if she has to make an uneducated guess – barely brushing her ankles and hanging a little off her shoulders, completes the picture of the careless and carefree lady who is not the least bothered with custom or court.

The image couldn’t be further from the subject. Emma has never been particular about observing the etiquette in every minute of her daily life but she certainly wished to make an effort and a hopefully less than disastrous impression on her first day as Mrs Emma Jones.

As it is, she rushes in to find Captain Jones in a corner of the breakfast table, plates and even his cup of tea obviously abandoned long ago as most of the space in front and around him is taken by papers and what looks like numerous logbooks.

“Good morning.”

He glances at her for such a brief moment that Emma is unsure whether she imagined the look or not.

“Morning.”

The cook – gods, she needs to ask the younger maid about her name, she knew yesterday that she will never remember it right away – comes in to pointedly pick up some empty plates and Emma decides to give her apologies and extend an olive branch in one swoop.

“My apologies, I— Well, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Did you have some sort of engagement in the morning?”

Emma furrows her brow in confusion. Jones’s eyes continue to follow the ink that shapes words and numbers under his skilled guidance.

“No. I… did not.”

“Then there was no need for you to be up any earlier and, thus, you are not late,” his blue eyes finally find hers and Emma is shocked by how different they look yet again, the morning light making them brighter and more vivid. “In addition, it is an impossibility to be “late” for much of anything while my daughter is residing under the same roof.”

Emma looks around and realizes that Alice Jones is indeed nowhere to be seen.

“And yourself?”

He blinks at her, plainly and powerfully taken aback.

“I— I wake much too early for you to concern yourself with that.”

Before she can puzzle out his surprise and formulate her reply, Jones has turned his attention to the cook.

“Mrs Lucas, a fresh pot and some warm toast, if you would be so kind.”

“There was plenty of warm toast an hour ago.”

“Indeed. Time has that pesky quality of cooling warm food. Hence, our constant race against it for a piece of hot bread.”

Emma watches the exchange with mounting amusement and apprehension. She cannot help but appreciate Killian’s quick acquittal and dismissal of her small misstep but she acutely feels the need to not incense Mrs Lucas any further. The look she gives her before leaving the room tells Emma that she has reached new lows in the old woman’s eyes in an alarmingly short time.

She swallows her worry and takes a seat at the half of the table still set for breakfast, and focuses on the more benevolent presence in the house.

Days ago – indeed, mere hours ago, Emma would not have considered the possibility of her future husband appearing “benevolent” in her eyes so soon after their vows were exchanged – if he ever did at all. But, looking at Killian now, she is hard at work to find any trace of malice or arrogance about him. It is hard work and work she does not wish to do.

Oh, he is far from approachable. Frankly, sitting at the opposite end of the same table, he might as well be a continent away from her, but even distant as he is, his presence is calming and solid. Solid, flipping through the pages before him and inking the tip of his pen with practiced ease, deep lines of concentration lining his forehead, he looks like he can probably hold most of the world on his slightly hunched shoulders. He looks like he does.

*****

“A good morning to all!”

Despite the late hour Alice does not carry that aura of haughty lateness and overindulgence that Emma worried about, she seems to bounce her way into the room much like the occasional sunbeam that refracts in the porcelain cups. There are pheasants on them and Emma has been tracing the tail of one while sneaking glances at the man across from her for the last quarter of an hour.

Alice slides behind her father’s chair and gives him a quick peck on the cheek before she circles the table again and sits down a seat away from Emma, smiling at her openly.

“Morning.”

Alice’s warm toast and fresh tea appear as if by magic without the captain having to so much as give Mrs Lucas a prompting look.

“When should I tell Peter to have the horses ready?”

She looks expectantly at her father and Emma instinctively follows her example. Killian looks up and tilts his head to the side.

“You should tell him to have the carriage ready first. Ruby is taking Emma shopping, I believe.”

“Oh, can I go as well? I want to find a new perfume for—”

Emma sees Alice glance at her from the corner of her eye and senses that she might have finished her sentence were it not for her presence. Emma doesn’t dwell on it, she has never had an ear for gossip.

“I thought you might wish to,” Killian responds to his daughter but looks at Emma and it takes her a long moment to realize the decision is apparently left to her.

“Oh, of course. If you wish to, I could probably use some help.”

“It’s decided then,” Alice claps her hands once and jumps to her feet.

“Finish you breakfast first, darling.”

A bread roll is merrily snatched up and carried away as Alice calls out for Ruby and Emma politely pretends not to notice Killian’s eyeroll.

“Emma, if you are finished with your breakfast…”

“Oh, yes,” she pushes her cup of tea away and raises to her feet, she is not sure she has anything to do while she waits for Alice and Ruby to be ready to leave but she can certainly channel her efforts into pretending to.

“Then perhaps we can have a word in my study?”

Or that.

“Of course.”

Her husband gathers some of his papers, leaving a few on the table with his inkwell and pen, and gestures for her to follow him. The further they go, the more the noises of the house seem to fade, the light getting more and more muted. He opens the door to his study for her and inside the silence is complete and the windows give off the impression that it is late afternoon rather than midday.

Emma stands perfectly still. The gloomier room makes goosebumps erupt over her flesh. Jones drops the papers in his hand on his desk and then himself drops into the chair behind it with a certain amount of relief. Her impression is that his prolonged presence at breakfast might have been a rare courtesy, prompted by Alice’s presence and Emma’s first breakfast as a member of the family.

“Emma, you don’t have to stand like a newly minted soldier.”

It’s probably the first time she has heard a trace of genuine amusement in his voice. She tries to loosen her muscles and sits in one of the chairs in front of his desk, carefully arranging her skirts and crossing her ankles.

“I want you to feel comfortable here.”

The knowledge that this is easier said than done sits heavy in her stomach. It has little to do with the house around her or the man before her but Emma is simply not sure she knows how to be comfortable.

“Is your room satisfactory? There are two more bedrooms which you can—”

“The room is lovely.”

Killian nods in a way that makes her think he doesn’t actually believe in her satisfaction but is content with the pronouncement of it.

“I’ve instructed Ruby to procure everything that you are unlikely to feel the need to choose personally but you can of course review the list with her. Feel free to purchase any clothes, handkerchiefs, perfumes, make-up and— whatever it is you might need or want today. Just leave my name and I will settle the bills tomorrow. What else?”

Killian seems to wrack his brain for any other necessities while Emma wonders at the trust of it all. Abusing his generosity is the furthest thing from her mind but she can’t help but notice that it would be very easy to do so, if one desired it.

“Jewelry, of course. I apologize for the pieces I sent with your dress. If I can be quite frank, jewels completely slipped my mind and under the press of time I resorted to what was available here.”

Sitting across from this man, Emma has to wonder that Liam Jones is supposedly the businessman of the family. The tone of his speech is exactly what she assumes befits a business deal, even if the content of it seems to be arranged much in her favour rather than his. Perhaps that is the key to it – Killian Jones doesn’t appear selfish enough to be a good businessman.

“Umm, K-Killian,” his name sounds rather monumental on her tongue but she takes some small measure of satisfaction and reassurance from the way it startles him as well – the business façade slipping slightly – she supposes his work associates do not address him by his given name but, even if she feels like one right now, calling her husband “Captain Jones” is one thing she is not willing to submit to. “The jewels were quite lovely and I do not… I really do not require any more at present.”

The jewelry actually fit her personal tastes better than the dress. The pieces are simple but elegant, just a bracelet and a pair of earrings. The bracelet especially she has fallen quite in love with – the little five-petal flowers inlaid with golden gemstones.

“Did they… belong to your wife?”

She regrets the question immediately. Killian’s shoulders stiffen perceptibly and he turns slightly away, any openness in his expression gone.

“No. All my late wife’s belongings were promptly sold.”

It’s a cold statement but his voice is even colder, as if taking responsibility for the words and aiming to make them even harsher.

“They were my mother’s.”

Her eyes jump back to his half-turned face with unmitigated surprise. The shot of guilt follows soon after.

“I will return them as—”

“There is no need for that. You are my wife. Who else should be in possession of my mother’s jewels.”

Alice, Elsa and a row of anonymous ladies in impeccable gowns measured just for them who would’ve made much better wives to Killian Jones parade before her eyes in the space of a single heartbeat. She manages to stop herself before she asks if the previous Mrs Jones were allowed the same familial privilege.

Killian clears his throat and turns to face her fully again. The businessman back in control.

“Ruby can show you all around the house whenever you ask. You can choose an apartment for yourself and any guests you might wish to have. Of course, you can come and go as you please.”

Emma blinks in surprise, she does not believe such a statement is usually proceeded by “of course” or made at all.

“If you wish me to attend any dance or dinner party with you, I request a day’s notice and if you wish to host any such, I’d like you to notify me a week or so before as well.”

The seconds tick by, Killian’s eyes have shifted to the world outside the window and Emma realizes his listing of her liberties has come to an end.

“And what is expected of me?”

Before stepping into this room she could not have envisioned asking this question so bluntly but, short as it has been, the time she has spent in Killian’s presence leads her to believe that directness and honesty might serve her best. She prays to a god she secretly doesn’t believe in that she is not wrong.

Killian’s eyes turn to her more shadowed and somewhat confused. He doesn’t seem to have a ready answer for her and she finds it extremely strange that he has not asked himself that question already.

“If there is anything— If there is an issue, I’d ask you to come directly to me with it.”

Who else would she go to? Already – perhaps naively but instinctively, she will rather come to him than run back to her grandmother. Emma wonders if Jones underestimates how alone she is and has always been.

When he lapses into silence again and steals a glance at the frankly frightening pile of papers on his desk, Emma figures she will have to navigate wifely duties on her own until a time when he decides to define those for her. She nods, raises from her chair and, after a slight hesitation, heads for the door.

“Oh, and Emma? Please, do remind Alice that she will have to fit whatever she purchases in her travel bags when she leaves.”

Her curiosity might have prompted her to ask about times when Alice forgot that essential detail on a shopping trip and the results thereof but, as it is, his mention of his daughter has a much different effect on her. She turns around and gathers her strength – it’s there, she knows, she hopes, she hasn’t called on it in a long time, has let it rest after all that she put it through but it’s there and—

And Killian Jones is smiling. It’s small and private and likely directed at his daughter’s imprudence rather than anything else but… her strength fails her.

“I’ll make sure she keeps that in mind.”

She tries to form a smile of her own but that fails as well.

*****

“Don’t put the kettle on yet, I think they’re off to show Emma the horses.”

Granny makes a displeased sound in the back of her throat and Ruby can’t help herself.

“She isn’t all that bad, you know.”

“You buy a dozen dresses together and now you’re thick as thieves?”

“It certainly wasn’t a dozen. She is quite modest and made very sensible choices.”

“I ain’t giving her credit for that. Making sensible choices is what women do.”

“All I’m saying, she isn’t spoilt or anything, doesn’t seem used to nice things and… I think she feels guilty for coming here with nothing.”

“As she should.”

“You know it couldn’t’ve been her choice.”

But her grandmother just shakes her head and kneads the dough in her hands harder, her sleeves pushed up as far as they will go. Ruby has never seen her sleeves slip down her arms – even they know not to get on the wrong side of Granny Lucas. They’re smarter than she is apparently.

“She likes him, you know.”

“And why wouldn’t she?”

Ruby barely refrains from rolling her eyes. Granny would sooner admit that her shortbread were inedible than that Killian Jones had a flaw.

“And how would you know anyways? Are you her lady’s maid now?”

Ruby huffs and blows an escaped lock of hair out of her eyes. There is nothing to do in the kitchen until the family comes in for tea and she feels restless whenever there is nothing to do.

“She kept asking me questions about him.”

“What questions?” the dough hits the wood hard and in the next moment her grandmother’s eyes are fixed firmly on her, something almost primitively protective sparkling behind her glasses.

“Oh, good Lord! When would be the most opportune time to slip him some poison? What questions. I don’t know. What kind of tea he likes, if he always gets up early in the morning – innocent questions!”

Granny scrutinizes her carefully before she grunts in reluctant acceptance and turns back to her task.

“You tell that girl nothing. She wants to know so much she can earn the knowledge.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s fair of you to take it out on her.”

“Many a thing in this life that ain’t fair, Ruby. When she proves herself to me, you can be sure I’ll do my damnest to protect her from that unfairness as well.”

*****

She is laboring under no illusion that Jones hasn’t noticed the reluctant way she is shuffling after him. The absence of her enthusiasm is thrown into even sharper relief against Alice’s vibrant excitement. The girl is quite a few paces ahead of them and Emma is not convinced her feet have touched the ground at all since they set out toward the small stables.

It’s the part of the Jones residence that Emma hoped to avoid as long as possible. Alas, after all the time Alice spent with her yesterday – picking fabrics and ribbons, sniffing perfume bottles and trying to determine the right style of hat that befits Emma – a thankless task in Emma’s opinion – when Alice started prodding her father to get the horses saddled again today, Emma felt compelled to join and indulge her as well.

Now she realizes she might have overestimated herself.

“Are you quite alright?”

She blinks up to find that Killian has fallen back into step with her. He looks concerned and uncomfortable over being so at the same time.

“Oh, yes, I’m perfectly—“ the “fine” sticks to the roof of her mouth and no matter how hard she prods it with her tongue, she cannot dislodge it from there. “Not entirely.”

She doesn’t know if she is more surprised by her own admission or by the fact that they just calmly continue walking forward. Then she thinks perhaps he didn’t hear her and she is almost glad for it.

“Is this about a fear of the animals or…”

“No. No, I used to ride. I liked— I loved it, truthfully. But then… I stopped. And now it’s been some ten years since I’ve sat astride a horse.”

It’s possibly the longest she has gone on talking since she got here and Emma feels both pride and embarrassment.

“Astride?”

Her head whips up to find him looking straight ahead and obviously struggling to suppress a smile. It’s only whether he is truly amused or mocking her that is unclear to Emma.

“Well, yes, I used to—“

At this moment, Alice comes toward them astride an elegant, impeccably white horse.

“So does my daughter.”

Neither mockery, not amusement, his smile is genuine enjoyment. Alice urges the beautiful animal closer to them, a slightly sheepish smile on her own face.

“Why, you two were taking so long.”

“Of course, darling. I have long given up keeping pace with you.”

Killian steps a little in front of Emma as he talks and for a moment she thinks he has simply forgotten about her presence. Then he glances back at her and she realizes, despite her insistence that it isn’t the horses she is afraid of, he has very purposefully positioned himself between her and the horse. It’s the stables that make a cold wave slitter down her spine, not the horses inside, but the gesture helps regardless.

She rests one hand on Killian’s shoulder and reaches forward to stroke Alice’s horse. The smell and feel of it makes her lips turn up slightly.

“Emma, meet Jolly,” she grins proudly down at her.

“She does look rather happy indeed. She, yes?”

“Yes. Papa’s is our lonesome gentleman.”

“Would you like to meet yours?”

Killian’s voice is close and she takes a step back to restore a respectable amount of space between them. Then she takes in his words. Emma has owned few things in her life – or so she thought before Regina showed her that she has very likely never owned a thing – and a horse has certainly never been one of them. She used to ride a lot but that was before, that was a different horse every time and never being quite certain if it will happily let her sneak a ride or throw her to the ground. On the inside, she is terrified and exhilarated in equal measures. On the outside, her nod is almost collected.

But another few steps are all it takes for the chill to come back and for terrified to start winning out.

“Killian.”

He turns around, one eyebrow raised in question – expectant but blessedly not impatient.

“Could you… could you bring them out?”

He tilts his head to the side, seemingly confused for a moment and she focuses all of her will power on not saying anything else and making it all even worse. For the life of her, she cannot comprehend how her mind talked her into asking, it’s probably the doing of her galloping heart.

But then Killian just nods once and turns around.

She should follow him. She is not a child and she most certainly doesn’t need or want to be treated as one. Except she is still frozen outside the stables and she did just ask him to fix it. He can’t fix it.

But he does bring the horses out.

His stallion makes her gasp, its black coat quite literally glistening in the afternoon sun, its muscles  rippling with undisguised power. If a horse was ever made to be ridden into battle, this one was, and he seems to know it too, looking disdainfully at Killian for the sedated pace that he is being led at by his bridle.

The other horse – hers, she thinks in wonder, appears almost as white as Jolly at first. Emma thinks it the sun is playing off its flanks as well until it stands just a few feet from her, only then does she realize that the golden tint to its coat is its own and not a trick of the light. And Alice’s horse is as near perfection as can be, and Killian’s is likely the most powerful animal she has seen with her own eyes, but her mare is the one that looks like a painting come to life, like it would belong in a museum, were it not for the energy buzzing around it.

“This is Roger,” Killian gives a tug on his horse’s bridle and the two seem to engage in a silent battle of wills for a few moments before the horse huffs and finally ceases its obviously impatient pacing. “And this… well, that’s for you to decide, I suppose.”

“She doesn’t have a name?” Emma reaches out to touch the horse like she did Jolly.

“She hasn’t had one here.”

“How long has she been here?”

“Not that much longer than you. A week or so.”

“Something summery then.”

It’s two days later when Alice brings a bunch of buttercups with her after a ride that she picks one.

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