#A prince a house steward and an assassin

[cleaetpauline60]

♡ Heroine Otome Game ♡

❥ Suzuhara Nazuna [ Ouji to Shitsuji to Assassin ]

(⛔ This post is missing images of Nazuna, if you ever have other official art (chibi or not) of Nazuna, do not hesitate to propose them to me by private message or via ask)

[ravellaarryns]

who: @moonhillsunsets when and where: following the assassination attempt on king graham royce by syleros rogare, the majority of the falcon court return to the eyrie through the bloody gate, in which the small council meet to further cement their stance in support of the iron bank of braavos, as well as issue a formal declaration of war with the free city of lys. ravella remains unaware that two members of the council have had a conversation following a certain revelation, however only knows that mariela egen requested to speak with the queen alone following the end of the council meeting. at this point, prince rhys arryn has also arrived to the falcon court - following spending time within the sea lord's palace.

the mood of the falcon queen was increasingly foul these past weeks, considering she hardly spoke a word the entirety of their journey back through the treacherous mountains of the moon; an uneasy silence seemed to come over and the people surrounding her, wherever she went. it felt as though her feet were leading her, rather than her mind; as though she had disassociated from the very body she had been born into. there was a danger that came in crossing the pride of ravella arryn, as there had always been; the distant memory of the sound of broken flesh and cries as she bit smugly into an apple, with a shade that matched the hues of her red lips.

the council meeting had been longer than it usual took, considering the severity of the case; she barely had it in her to raise her gaze to look upon the seat that was now filled with another, she truthfully did not think she would see on this side of the narrow sea once again.

ravella did not notice the brief glance exchanged between the hand of the queen and the mistress of whispers as the king brought an end to the matters of today; rather, ravella merely continued to look upon the free city of lys on the map before her. the mistress of whispers had put in a request to have a private audience with her following the council meeting, though ravella decided their current location was more than fine - beneath the vast hues of navy, silver, purple and white stained glass. she heard the distant sound of others uttering their departing messages, looking up briefly at the eyes of the new master of coin to allude to seeing him after this matter was over. she made no reference into looking in the direction of the brothers of house royce speaking with one another, no doubt amount further fortifying the gates of the moon: or the way in which lord stone left the room as silently as he always did.

and then there was none but mariela egen. truthfully, she knew little to nothing about the woman before her; she wondered briefly what it was she wished to speak to her of. perhaps marriage, considering her lord husband who had since began to crumble to dust had left her a growing issue to deal with: perfecting house egen once again. the woman remained young, and was able to be wedded once again - despite the fact she was lady regent of moonhill. how many children did the woman have? ravella did not know, but knew there was at least one son; who would soon be nearing the age of being sent into the rigorous process that shaped young boys into knights of the vale. she would deal with it. there are no exceptions.

"lady egen." ravella was not sure how she felt about having a woman on the council; they were the weaker of the sexes, more easily persuaded and too emotive to think rationally. she had been approved of by graham nonetheless, and despite the history that continued to separate the pair of them, she trusted him. his judgement, perhaps more than any others. "the steward of my household has allocated at least a quarter of an hour to this conversation. what is it the crown may do for you?" she asked. despite believing her to be naturally weaker, ravella held a respect for another woman born and bred of the vale. they were still stronger than others.

[kreinvulon]

For the ask game, I'll take a 3 and 19 for Vyn! 👀

sure! i accidentally wrote a lot. i’ll put it under the cut, so i don’t clog anyone’s feed.

3. “what are their religious affiliations, and how does their worship affect their day-to-day life?”

— being an assassin of the dark brotherhood, it’s obvious that orivyn holds some form of reverence for sithis and the night mother. the dunmer hold beliefs that sithis’s birth was the start of creation anyways, and thus, vyn has a lot of respect for the obscure entity. his relationship with the night mother is— of course— more intimate. regardless, he still holds respect for other deities. most.

in terms of worship, i believe that his worship is displayed through his interactions with the world: with each contract killed, he refuses to tamper with the body ( unless necessary for a series of contracts i.e. leading to the emperor’s ) in a belief he will desecrate it. he does this with all other corpses unless they have posed some threat to him.

if possible, he may leave a deathbell or nightshade flower beside the corpse, like an offering to the soul as it travels to the void. he, also, collects bones or skulls. vyn holds the same beliefs about death as gabriella, where the brotherhood “plays some part in a being's inevitable end”. doom’s herald, as she says, honour too.

as for the night mother, he frequently leaves offerings beside her coffin whenever he can— flowers like the aforementioned, bones, teeth, skulls. orivyn greets her when he can, and heeds her words. there hasn’t been a time where he’s disrespected her (cough astrid).

fun bonus fact: his worship of the night mother feels more sincere than anything else. as youth, vyn was encouraged to pray to azura, who his mother revered. yet, he slowly felt more “abandoned” over time by the prince. he silently ceased his prayer in belief no deity would “save him” from his sorrow.

19. “how are they with money? do they hoard, or do they spend until their pockets are empty and they have to find work again? have they saved for any houses?”

— i’d say orivyn’s fine with money, i don’t think he spends until his pockets are empty. it’s not something i’ve given much thought. he gets a decent pay from contracts and work on the side, and is cautious and reasonable with his septims. spends a little, saves a little, just in case... asides from when him and gore are at an inn. he consistently offers to pay for every single drink until gore gives in. they’re both stubborn as fuck.

and, yeah, vyn manages to get a small house. he sees no need for a giant manor with stewards and whatnot. a small, secluded cottage concealed in the amber forests of the rift suits him just fine. think elianora’s ruska, just in a different spot, and with a slightly altered interior layout. very cosy.

city life would be too much for him. i also like to think that vyn chose the rift, as he’s heard a lot about how gore cherishes the aspen groves. he shares the home with him.

[the-trinket-witch]

Scarabia Steampunk AU Intro!

Premise | Yuu | Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Across the sea is the Land of Scalding Sands. Sultan Asim sits as its ruler, its protector, and unfortunately, its greatest target of ire. From its dunes comes a culture rich in sights, scents and flavors. Known for their collaboration with their Eastern acquaintances in creating elaborate fireworks, the Al’ab Nariya serves to both display the country’s wealth and innovation, alongside serving as a reminder of its history. Sadly not everything is curry and jasmine in the Scalding Sands; the Sultan can attest. As the father of 12 children, his luck has been anything but with numerous assassination attempts on his and his childrens’ lives. He’s hoping luck will turn for him once his 13th is finally born, if they aren’t once again caught in the crossfire of assassins.

Kalim:

The eldest of 12, soon to be 13. He takes his studies as prince and role of Big Brother seriously, but that’s about as serious as the man gets. While he was younger, he had been under constant watch by either his father or steward, Jamil. As he’s turned of age, he had been requested by his father to go out into the world and represent the Land of Scalding Sands as an ambassador. Maybe something to get his mind off of his most recent attack; this one left the family particularly rattled. A neighboring country’s capital, Nightraven, has a cozy embassy to stay in. In turn for housing the burgeoning prince within its borders, The city hopes it will entice the royal family to possibly send an export route through their bay. Either way, Kalim is going to take in as much that this foreign city has to offer. He hopes, as well, this becomes an opportunity to make his father proud of his boy.

Jamil:

Jamil is the eldest between himself and his sister in the latest generation of the loyal Viper Family. His family has served the Asim Family since time immemorial. An utter prodigy in regards to magic, he learned of his ability well before his master, though with comparatively minor fanfare. No matter; his secret weapon, a magic uniquely his own, will always give him the upper hand, regardless of status. Though even outside of being Kalim’s steward, the two have a bond nigh unshakeable. Kalim would dub it ‘Friendship’, Jamil, not so much. But it’s with this bond that seals his lips to the truth of Kalim’s venture out into the world:

The most recent attempt on the prince’s life had accidentally put his mother in the crossfire, endangering her and her 13th child’s life. While not life-threatening, the attack had left her weary and in need of extra care. This put such an off-putting taste in the Sultan’s mouth; he needed to see the target removed as far away as possible. Under the guise of ambassadorship, He had sent his eldest son with his steward to the reaches of the Twisted Wonderland, to Nightraven, so at least their youngest has a possible chance of survival.

(concepts workshopped by Certified Bestie @sunbirddtellsstories/@thecosmicjackalope ) Tagging @squidwen for notif ;D

[otomechuchu]

HuneX problems

HuneX is aware of people not getting their Free Points, and they are trying to fix it. Be patient~

[englishotomegames]

A Prince, a House Steward and an Assassin (王子と執事と暗殺者)

Release dates (iPhone, Android) Japanese: June 6th, 2014 English: March 29th, 2017

"You have already fight with Ouji childhood friend, Nazuna.

If you are walking while angry, resulting in the accident Chu and the man who fell from the stairs suddenly. Got angry and 'rude person!', the person of the man for some reason.

When you come home while becoming feeling sad situation you do not know the reason,

Story Prince is coming to homestay at home for some reason is!

Parents will go to overseas travel reward I got, to end up to his care. And the prince on the other of the accident Chu, and brother of Prince Butler, Butler to his brother came tumbling, I threaten the peace of the Nazuna!

Royal multi-tenant comedy of dangerous fragrance."

This game is no longer available.

[otomesweetheart]

HuneX has announced their new game!  A Prince, a House Steward, and an Assassin is coming soon!  

Find out more at their website!

I found out about this upcoming game at Otome Mew Mew’s Twitter :3

[lesbiansforboromir]

(I didn’t finish my sentence lmfaoo. I meant I don’t hate the movies portrayal of D B and F’s relationship but I might’ve preferred it in the books ahaha sry my bad lol) yeah that’s kind of an issue with create movies of book, ppl just assume it’s the same cause it’s an adaptation. The books are a Lot too, so ppl might not even wanna bother cause they’re not easy to read vs watching an Adaption of them, so they’ll never know the og characters.

I only rewatch lotr recently after years of growing up with it and tbh I completely forgot that Gondor was a Thing, it rly is just kinda forgettable in the movies.

This is rly making me want to tackle the books lol. The differences are gonna be something to adjust to.

Apart from the Gondor dudes who would you say gets the biggest change? Or worse in your opinion

Oh no I do hate the dynamic of the steward family in the films jdahkjasd Honestly I think this portrayal of abusive parents being just ugly and easily identifiable as villains is somewhat regressive but No worries no worries.

ANd yeah... Gondor really is so forgettable in the films I-

BUT YEAH UM... I guess I can’t say everyone can I um, lets start talking and see how many we get through.

Merry and Pippin got an absolutely tragic reduction in the films. In the books they’re frodo’s friends long before the film, Merry is Frodo’s best friend, he loves Frodo so much he helps him move house and deals with his obnoxious family. Merry actually organises the whole trip, he figures out Frodo intends to leave on his own and secretly organises to go with him JUST because he’s his best friend. He’s like yo, you’ve got something scary you’ve got to do Frodo? Don’t know why you thought we’d let you do it on your own. Merry saves the whole quest by doing this! Frodo would have died before he even got out of the Shire if not for Merry. 

Gimli’s portrayal, also a tragedy. Peter Jackson saw dwarf and immediately decided ‘comic relief’, despite the fact that Gimli is more polite than Aragorn or Legolas, is a poet and has one of the longest monologues about art and culture in the whole book. It guts me thinking about it. 

Eowyn has a severe reduction in her feelings and character, her monologue is sanitised away from a much more bitter and angry condemnation of her people’s culture around women. We got a more patronising image of her relationship with Merry too. 

FRODO, oh god Frodo I’m so sorry, Frodo was clever and masterful and adult and!! He was funny! And sarcastic, he was philosophical and cunning. Films tell you that Merry and Pippin were like thieves, NO Merry and Pippin were very upstanding young gentlemen and Farmer Maggot thought very highly of them both. FRODO is the criminal in this group who stole his mushrooms! Frodo asked questions and made plans and tried to figure things out by himself, he wasn’t this strange melancholic ring box to be ushered places. Frodo saved the world by TAKING the ring’s power on mount doom after planning how to do that and cursing gollum to essentially drop the ring into the mountain of fire LIKE. Frodo had agency! SAM TOO fsfdgsdfgs I skip frodo and sam’s scenes in the films but i love them in the books. 

Aragorn and Gandalf are vastly different characters in the films in that they’re likable. And this is... better for Aragorn I think. Although I miss him being a little more snarky and self important and sharp, but it’s better than Aragorn’s likable which he thoroughly isn’t in the books in my opinion. I MEAN... he’s- he’s very complex in the books and there are likable moments amongst him snapping at people and talking about himself. But for Gandalf I think it was a thorough detriment. Which hurts, love Ian Mckellen, that’s my grandad, but Gandalf was like genuinely manipulative in the books and literally could not stand being wrong despite being wrong quite a lot. Constantly Gandalf will angrily and rudely snap at people who rightly critisise his choices (Boromir for one) and this is good because you don’t want an infallible morally irreproachable dad for this whole adventure. It’s much more interesting this way. 

Eomer, miss him being a little more young and fiery and a little out of his depth but proud and confident even so. Like I know Karl Urban was exactly 27 in the films but he felt very world weary and kind of ‘I’ve had it’ when he’d only just become Third Marshall like barely a year ago. AND OF COURSE, this is compounded by the way Theodred’s death is portrayed like... askjdas like oops! Our 18 year old prince just died in this lil stream in this small lil battle huh weird- NO!! Theodred was 41!! And had died in a MASSIVE battle against Isengard! He was assassinated in fact, the whole point of the battle was to assassinate Theodred because he’d been so influential to maintaining Rohan’s stability despite all Grima and Saruman’s efforts. Eomer was a man who’d just lost a mentor, an adopted elder brother! Anyway...

Um... honourable mention for Hama... our dear doorward... miss you being relevant and telling Aragorn to fuck off babe. Farmer Maggot, miss you being relevant and like the literal best. Haldir, miss you NOT being relevant dwarfist bastard but I love to watch you die. Galadriel and Celeborn, not enough she pegs him energy, not enough of her being scary and unknowable, not enough of her laughing. Bilbo! I’m sorry they didn’t let you go back to the Lonely Mountain that’s miserable my guy.... Gollum’s alright... I think that’s everyone who exists in the films and books both. 

So this still ended up as everyone :)

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die, Chapter 9

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 9)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: Logan tries to find another memory, and comes back with something bigger. Virgil opens up to Remus. More facts about the night of Logan's arrest come to light.

And Janus is definitely out to kill the necromancer--but Roman learns something unexpected when he discovers this plan.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and future Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: ...so I felt bad about the cliffhanger. >.> XD

Also, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that the words 'pari' and 'geni' were gender neutral terms I created for this world for Logan's parents. They're twisted up with Latin roots for 'parent' or 'creator' because his folks are nonbinary.

Extra apologies for this one because no beta and I just got eager and wrote this in one day. Send help. XD

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1033, A.A.

The first thing Logan noticed when he woke was the heat. Even with all the little luxuries he earned as a well behaved prisoner, he never woke up warm.

The memories were slow to trickle back to him through the haze of sleep, gentle rain splashing against the surface of his mind.

The assassination. The Green Man. The new quarters, his first private shower in ten years—soft spun cotton lounge clothes instead of the rough, drab, ill fitting uniform of the dungeon's prisoners.

Gentle fingers filled with strength laced securely through his. Strong arms, warm skin...

Logan opened his eyes, and found himself with his face tucked against the curve of a neck. Lifting his head with great reluctance, he found himself faced with a sleeping Roman.

The beauty of it nearly stopped his heart.

Loss had stripped some light from his features, worn them around the edges and haunted his eyes, but in repose his features were smooth and unburdened. He looked younger, surreal in his serene perfection. Something about the act of watching Roman sleep felt important...precious, even familiar...

Roman stirred then, and Logan acted without thinking, reaching out to smooth his fingers through Roman's hair. It was soft against his fingers, warm and silken and he repeated the gesture just for the pleasure of feeling it.

“...'lo?...”

“Hello, Roman.”

Roman hummed, and the arm Logan only just realized was wrapped around his shoulders tightened, pulling him closer against Roman's side.

“Lo.” he murmured, more confidently this time as he opened bright green eyes. “You're here.”

“It appears I fell asleep after our discussion. Apologies.” Logan replied, but could put no real conviction into the words. Something inside him...ached in a beautiful way he couldn't give words to. He didn't know what it meant...

For just a split second, his vision blurred, and Roman was younger, smaller, dark hair lightened by too much time in the sun...

...Logan's mind grew fuzzy again, but not with sleep. He recognized the feeling now, the haze of magic that let him reconnect to Virgil, to a fragment of his past...

The Loom of Memory. Roman spoke about it last night, telling his stories about them as friends—as kindred spirits.

“Logan?...”

Logan shifted to lay on his back, reaching for Roman's hand.

“Virgil restored one of my memories through a piece of personal magic I embedded in an object of power.” he explained, speech slurring just a little as his eyes grew heavier. “If...you took part in a ritual to give me...my power...”

“The Warping.” Roman murmured, rolling on his side. Gripping Logan's fingers tight, he looked down into Logan's face. Something about it tugged at the back of Logan's chest, something that was pulling him back into darkness again.

He could fight the pull. He did not try.

Gripping Roman's hand tight, Logan let his eyes shut.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

As he sank, Logan distantly felt warm lips brush his forehead.

“I never have. I never will.”

********** ...threads. Everywhere, itching, brushing, bothersome. This time, he pulled away from them, just a little. He flexed his fingers, and the shuttle was there, secure in his grip.

He tried to concentrate on seeing it this time. Pulling back, stepping away.

…there.

The loom was massive, the warp glowing softly with a gentle radiance that begged to be touched. Running his fingers over it, Logan sighed with pleasure—warm and whisper soft beneath his fingers, spreading through his hand and up his arm to settle in the core of his being....but loose.

The warp was too loose. Just a little tension was needed for a neat, tight weave.

Logan reached out to try and tighten the warp, but...something was wrong.

“...Logan?”

Who's there?

“Logan, it's me.”

...oh. I...

“Do you need help?”

I—I think so. I don't understand what's happening.

“It's okay—to be honest, I didn't understand then and I still don't. Just take what you need.”

I'll be careful this time.

“Don't worry about it. Just...don't leave me.”

I promise. In fact...will you stay?

“Stay? I...is that all right?”

I do not know—but there's only one way to find out. Help me, if you can.

He tugged gently at the thread—this time, it came smooth and easy. It was hard to do still—simply because it was so distracting, the ecstasy of handling it, letting the warp slide through his fingers and tug sweetly as he secured it to the loom—

When he was done, when it was ready...Logan set to work.

********** 1023, A.A.

Logan was so warm and so comfortable, he never wanted to wake up...but he knew he had to, for some reason.

Opening his eyes with a yawn, he turned his head—then grinned when he realized that Roman stayed.

There was something about seeing him in Logan's bedroom that felt secret and special: Roman, his Roman, with his face half buried in Logan's pillow and mouth slightly open as he slept. It wasn't a pretty sight: he drooled just a little, and he was laying on Logan, one arm and one leg thrown across his body, something he usually hated...

But Logan could feel his weight, his warmth. He was messy and heavy and too much...and he was tucked into Logan's bed, his fingers meshed tight through Logan's to rest on Logan's chest. This handsome prince, this good and loving and dangerously earnest boy that wanted with a ferocity that scared and dazzled Logan, eluded palace guard and the king himself just to help him. Just to stay.

Roman was everything good and just and right in the world. However, Roman was also two years older than him, he was royalty—and Logan was Necromata.

Secret and special was all Logan was ever going to get.

Staring into Roman's sleeping face for a few more precious seconds, he tucked the memory away somewhere safe in his mind and his heart before he gently squeezed Roman's hand.

“Roman?”

“Nnnnngh.”

“Roman. It's morning.”

“Nnnngh—guh? What?”

Roman came awake abruptly, and Logan's heart trembled at the muzzy confusion in his face. It made him want confusing, unattainable things, so Logan settled for smiling.

“It's morning. Sunrise—are you still okay?”

Roman nodded with a jaw cracking yawn, further upsetting Logan's already fragile, confusing state of mind by tucking himself forward until their foreheads touched. “Yeah, 'm fine. Remus'll cover for me 'till at least after breakfast. You?”

Unable to stop himself, Logan tucked their joined hands against his chest for a second, sealing the feel of it as deep as he could into his memory as he nodded. “Grandpap won't be back until tomorrow, and Pari lets me skip my morning chores if I'm studying.”

“Which you are, technically.” Roman pointed out with a smile, staring into Logan's eyes.

“Falsehood. I'm laying about in bed.”

Roman seemingly had no answer for that, and didn't respond—but also didn't move.

Logan couldn't bring himself to urge him into action.

“Where did we leave off last night?”

“Hmm?”

“The geneaology. How far did we get?” Roman pressed gently, a laugh in his voice that made Logan's heart tremble again.

Taking a deep breath, Logan managed to pry himself from the sanctuary of his spot tucked into the curve of Roman's body. Sitting up, he reached for the last book they'd been reading through before they gave up their research for sleep.

“We got as far back as King Thomas Cameron IV—the one who married the first Lord and Lady Stewards.” Logan explained, flipping to the right page. “They reorganized the line of succession for same sex and polyfidelitous families within the royal house of Sanders.”

“Right, right...Lady Valerie was the great granddaughter of Sir Edward, fifth cousin of King Thomas Roman I.” Roman mumbled, sitting up to peer at the book in Logan's hands. “Least the stories say.”

Logan fought a swelling of frustration as he flipped ahead a few pages. “Most of these are stories. Stories, lore, and speculation. There's no proof here—and there are a lot of missing records, which I find strange for a royal lineage.”

“Well, Father had some records sealed for privacy.” Roman admitted. “That's how I knew about Sir Edward. He was a mage of some power, but his family withdrew from the monarchy generations ago. They're no longer part of the line of succession, so their presence exists only in the Tomes.”

Logan hesitated, shutting the book in his hands. “The mage's histories? The ones kept at the Royal Academy library?”

“Yep—well, most of them.”

Logan looked at Roman sharply. “What do you mean, most of them?”

Roman's eyes went wide as he froze. Logan's pulse quickened.

“Roman? What do you know?”

Roman looked, for a moment, like he wanted to bolt...but then took a deep breath, gathered Logan's hands in his, and began speaking.

********** 1033, A.A.

Logan's eyes snapped open as the Loom dropped abruptly away, leaving him with an ache in the marrow of his bones and a chill he couldn't quite dispel. As he sat up, warm arms immediately encircled him, tucking him against a wall of fire that eased the chill and soothed the hurt away.

“Logan? Say something—are you all right?”

For a second, Logan just leaned into him and shut his eyes. It wasn't complete, vague and nebulous and full of holes, but a new memory was hanging loose in his head, barely attached. He could almost picture the room, a few snatches of conversation...but the feeling was the only part he was sure of.

Secret and special...good and right...

I loved him.

“Logan, please. What happened?”

Logan pressed his forehead against Roman's collarbone for just one more second, the sweet pulse of longing rippling through his bones, igniting an energy that was alien to him.

I love him.

“I am satisfactory.” he assured Roman, slowly straightening. He reached up to rub his head. “I...slept here last night?”

Roman nodded, his hand settling on Logan's shoulder, warm and heavy. “You don't remember waking up?”

“I...maybe? I was...the Loom.”

“You entered that trance again—you asked for my help, and I gave it. Like I did during your Warping, but this time my hand was glowing—like the last time you were channeling. You wanted to reconstruct a memory, did you succeed?”

Logan nodded, then shook his head.

Books...Grandpap...sun bleached hair, a special and secret cocoon in his childhood bed.

Flinching, Logan fumbled for Roman's hand, ripping it off his shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Roman.”

“I'm here, Starlight—what do you remember?”

“I...don't know. Just—my brother.”

“Virgil's not here.”

“I have to find him. Now.”

********** Virgil was going on twenty four hours wide, staring awake, and wasn't enjoying it.

Well...much.

Reluctantly following the crown prince through the lower levels of the castle, he hated to admit that for all his crazy, Prince Remus was kind of a fascinating guy. He was smart, yeah, but—more than that.

He was brilliant, in a way that was frightening. He babbled with barely any coherence, went off on tangents, talked to himself, but there wasn't a single wasted word. He talked about his brother with perfect devotion, discussed violence with absolute reverence, and spoke about death like...

Like he was Necromata. In between the stories he shared during the night—stories about Roman's secrets, three years of carrying on an ilicit friendship with Logan—he went off about Virgil's people with a flawless understanding of who they were and what they were about.

All while revealing, with all his stolen knowledge, that he didn't know jack shit about them. Everything he ever learned was heresay and speculation, but...but through the stories he saw the foundation. Remus was a quintessential outsider, but the respect he showed for the Necromata made Virgil ache inside.

Fuck, Remus actually gave him a little hope for the future.

“This way—this is where I found Roman after it happened.”

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Virgil jogged to catch up with Remus. “We don't have a lot of time, Remus—Logan is supposed to try and resurrect your father this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah—we have an hour, I know.”

“Two.”

“What?”

“Two. The sun will be well above the horizon then—doesn't do anyone any favors to be too prompt when it comes to making sure the Barrier is closed, unless you want to end up with someone else in your father's body.”

Remus glanced at Virgil over his shoulder—then snickered.

“Could be funny.” he decided, ushering Virgil ahead of him. “Through this door—this is where I found Roman the night your brother was arrested.”

“Where was he? I never realized he was anywhere near us when we got caught.” Virgil huffed, shoving the filthy, heavy wooden door open to emerge into a dingy stone tunnel.

“Before this castle had lower levels beneath this one, this was meant to be a sewer.” Remus explained as Virgil took a few more steps into the tunnel. “It's on some early plans for the palace, but hardly anyone remembers it's here. I got nosy when I was six and found it—Roman and I have used this to get in and out of the palace undetected since we were little.”

“He must've told Logan.” Virgil muttered, peering up at the grate overhead. Above him, through the bars he could see scattered straw—the inside of an empty dungeon cell. “That's how he got us in here.”

“You were here that night?”

Virgil turned to face Remus, smiling a little without any humor in it. “He didn't tell you about that, huh?”

Remus shook his head in silence.

Virgil scoffed, turning his gaze upwards again.

“Not all that surprised. Hell, maybe he didn't know I was here, either. I wasn't supposed to be...truth be told, I was always certain that I was the reason Logan got arrested. It's why I tried to get him out.”

“What were you, four years old? What were you doing here, and how could you have been behind it?”

“I was nine.” Virgil replied quietly, unable to tear his gaze from the grate of the cell above him.

“And I was here because a Weaver needs his Spider.”

********** 1023, A.A. The tunnel was absolutely terrifying—dark and wide and squat. Grandpap would have to double over to walk through it, big as he was.

Virgil did not want to be here. He wanted to be home in bed with his blanket, listening to Grandpap's bedtime stories about the Before Times and the wicked king that was slain, plunging their tribe into eternal darkness.

Logan was here, though—and a Spider had to stand with his Weaver. Protecting Logan was his responsibility now, and he couldn't let his big brother down.

“...find the book in the office...”

Voices, up ahead. Echoes carried down towards him, making Virgil flinch hard enough that he stumbled and fell.

Silence. More voices, garbled and echoing...

A hand on his collar, dragging him to his feet.

“Virgil, what in the name of the Seven Hells are you doing here!”

When Virgil landed upright, he came face to face with the shadowed features of his big brother, blue eyes glimmering in the barely there light.

“What are you doing here, Logan?” Virgil shot back. “You snuck out without me! You're 'posed to bring me on important stuff, I'm your 'Pider!”

Logan spun around, as if he were about to address someone—but then froze. His shoulders hunched the way they always did when he forgot to thank the spirits of the ancestors at his altar every morning, nervous and unhappy.

Turning back to Virgil, Logan narrowed his eyes.

“This isn't Weaver stuff, Stormcloud, so you can't tell anyone. Especially not Grandpap.”

“I swear on the 'Pider's Thread, Loganberry.”

Taking a deep breath, Logan nodded. “Okay...okay, you can come. You'll actually be helpful to find...never mind. Just do as I say, and don't ask questions. I can't answer them?”

“Why?”

Logan raised a warning finger at him.

“Don't. Ask. Questions.”

Virgil slammed his mouth shut, but didn't argue as Logan took his hand and led him down the tunnel and into the palace of the king.

********** 1033, A.A.

“What part of the palace did you hit?” Remus asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Not sure. It was dark, I was nine and terrified...I've tried to track it since I enlisted, but haven't had much luck. All I know is it was somewhere in the lower levels 'cause that's how I found the tunnel and got away. Wasn't near the dungeons either, not really—when we got caught, Logan steered me towards a lit, open door. It was some kind of office, and I found an open grate that led me to it.”

Virgil faced Remus again, pointing upwards. “This is under the dungeons, but you said this was where you found Roman after Logan's arrest?”

“Yup.” Remus replied, popping the 'p' sound at the end. “Near the end of this particular tunnel, down here.”

Virgil glanced behind him, in the direction Remus pointed, Turning back to the prince, he jerked his chin in that direction.

“Let's go.”

The pair fell into step beside each other, easily matching pace. Remus was a little taller than Virgil, so he was slowing down to let him keep up. Virgil didn't appreciate it.

He didn't.

“You know, Roman didn't help you get in here. I did.”

Virgil turned sharply towards him. “You're fucking with me.”

“Identical twins? In a poorly lit room, you can't make out the streak and the 'stache, Sweet Cheeks.”

“But...why?”

“Because you were trying to help your brother, and mine couldn't. Help you, that is.”

“Why couldn't he? Why did he admit to doing it?” Virgil asked.

“Did he actually admit to anything last night?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Virgil opened his mouth...then closed it.

“Not outright, no.” he realized aloud. “But why couldn't he help?”

“Virgil!”

The sound of that voice, echoing off the walls of the tunnel, was a flashback in time. For an instant, Virgil was nine and terrified again, being led into Souls Knew What by his big brother...running for his life and trying not to choke on his sobs, knowing he'd left his big brother to die.

Spinning on his heel, Virgil found himself faced with the sight of the tunnel's end where he and Remus had been heading anyway. The door was open, and Logan stood side by side with the familiar figure of King Roman.

At least, until Logan bolted forward, barreling towards Virgil until he had a death grip on him.

“Unghf! Loganberry, you're...crushing me...”

“He panicked as soon as we got down here.” Roman explained, raising his voice to be heard as he jogged towards them. “He's been off since he woke up earlier. He tried to reconstruct a memory...”

Virgil sighed, wrapping his arms around Logan for a second to give him a comforting squeeze before he shifted to reach for Logan's hand.

“C'mere, Loganberry...lemme help you...”

The moment their fingers meshed, Virgil felt the pull on his consciousness—Logan drawing on his focus, pulling raw thought from his head that sent his awareness of his surroundings spiraling into a pinpoint.

Virgil's eyes slid shut, his head lolling back in familiar fashion—but this time, before the darkness took him, warmth flooded the base of his skull and softened his tumble into oblivion.

********** “Hey—hey! Wake up, Storm!”

“Remus.”

Roman watched his brother stand beside the silent cadet, one hand on his shoulder and the other cradling his head, supporting him as he half sagged where he stood. There was a look in his eyes Roman wasn't sure he'd ever seen before, something like panic...but not quite.

It was familiar...but fuzzy.

Moving to his brother's side, Roman touched his shoulder.

“He's all right, Remus.”

“How do you know?”

“Because this is what familiars do. I've...seen it before.”

Roman blinked, startled by the words that came out of his mouth—but once he said them, he knew it was true. He had seen it before...somewhere among Logan's people, but where?...

“What are you four doing down here?”

Roman looked back towards the direction Remus and Virgil had come from, flinching when he spotted Janus at the end of the tunnel with Patton at his side.

“Lord Janus? Pat—what are you doing here?” he asked, moving towards the pair.

“I came 'cause Janny asked me to.” Patton replied, staring past Roman to where Logan and Virgil stood, deep blue eyes filled with worry. “What's goin' on? Janny?...”

With a sigh, Janus discreetly slid a hand up Patton's spine, only just visible as yellow gloved fingertips appeared near his nape then vanished with a soft whisper of leather on fabric.

“Go, darling. See if you can help.” Janus urged.

Reaching behind him, Roman saw Patton catch the gloved hand and squeeze before he hurried down the tunnel towards the trio of Remus, Logan, and Virgil.

Facing Janus, Roman folded his arms. “You didn't answer my question.”

Janus glanced past Roman, seemingly unable to tear his gaze from Patton for a long moment before he finally managed to set his gaze on Roman.

“I'm an assassin. I'm not supposed to tell you why I do anything, Your Majesty.” Janus pointed out.

“So you're here to kill someone?”

Janus sneered, mouth setting into a thin, tight line.

“If you must know,” he growled quietly, “I came here to kill the necromancer.”

Roman's heart froze, blood running cold.

“No, you're not.”

“Majesty? Get your hands off me. Now.”

Roman blinked, not even realizing that he'd backed Janus up against the nearby wall, and to his shock had a hand wrapped around his scaled throat.

“Give me a reason why I should.” he asked flatly. “You'll have a harder time getting to the necromancer if you have to stop and kill me first.”

“Oh, for the love of—I'm here to kill the necromancer, not your pet prisoner!”

“I...what?”

“The necromancer that assassinated your father and is trying to assassinate you.” Janus spat, finally shaking Roman's grip so he could straighten his cloak.

“I...don't understand.”

Janus finally tugged the clasp of his cloak straight, and when he met Roman's gaze, his own mismatched eyes were filled with something far warmer than any man might expect to see in the eyes of a spy like him.

Janus was looking at him with sympathy.

“Your Majesty...Logan may be one of the Necromata, but he is not a necromancer.” he whispered.

“Of course he is! He--”

“--may have been a necromancer once upon a time, but he isn't any longer. The root of necromancy is memory—with no memory, he should have no magic. No mere necromancer can beat the Cleansing that way, it's impossible.”

“Then...?”

Roman turned away from Janus to stare down the tunnel. He watched Virgil and Logan both slowly come to their senses, Logan opening ice blue eyes as Virgil started to straighten, supported by both Remus and Patton.

Over Virgil's shoulder, Logan's gaze met Roman's, and for just a moment those gemstone eyes flickered with the soft, blue-white light of his magic.

Janus's voice spoke right next to his ear, shaking him to his core.

“Logan is not a necromancer, Your Majesty...he's a Lazari.”

[indiaalphawhiskey]

PU Drabble #1

Note: This plot has been sitting in my mind for a while, but I really, really cannot afford to start another WIP. So, as a writing exercise, I’m just going to keep writing in this universe in short drabbles and posting them under the tag “Political Unrest ABO”. Please excuse my self-indulgence. xx For @theficwritersblock​. I love you very much, friend! :D ----- “This is ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous,” Louis said, enunciating each word rather pointedly. “Niall, tell His Royal Highness Prince Liam James Geoff Bartholomew, Prince of Wales, Earl of Chester, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Prince and Great Steward of Scotland that he’s being ridiculous.”

Liam sighed and leaned back in his chair, so, so tired. “You know I can have you tried for treason for using my title like that, right?” 

The threat was drastically dimmed by the way his hands slid frustratedly down his face, making him look like a modern version of Van Gogh’s ‘The Scream’.

“Please,” Louis scoffed, over his shoulder. He looked back out the window at the expansive, rolling grounds. “You didn’t even have me tried for treason when I told the Headmaster all of Niall’s Playboys were yours in secondary.”

“I remember that,” Niall chuckled, uncapping the glass decanter in the corner. “Think that saved me from expulsion, honestly.”

“Glad I could help,” Liam deadpanned, still behind his hands. “Nevermind that Jamie Langford called me ‘His Royal Pervert’ for the rest of sixth form.”

“Mm,” Louis hummed thoughtfully, turning to face the boys, and resting his arse on the windowsill easily. His eyes sparkled wickedly. “Maybe you should have him tried for treason, retroactively.”

“Louis,” Liam whined to the ceiling, and it amazed Louis how dignified Liam could be, even while whining. “I swear I’ll have every single one of your ex-boyfriends locked in the Tower of London tomorrow if you just promise to go.”

Louis paused, pretending to consider the tempting offer, but when Liam sat up, eyes alert and wide with hope, he dropped the act.

“Li,” Louis tried, his guilt skyrocketing as he watched Liam’s face fall. “You know I can’t. The first Omega candidate for Prime Minister running scared three weeks before the election? That’s playing right into the oppositions’ hands.”

Liam stared at him, his eyes wide. “Louis, you woke up to a death threat nailed to the headboard of your bed and no sign of forced entry, for fuck’s sake. I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about the opposition right now!”

“I can’t run every fucking time someone threatens me, Liam,” Louis argued, voice sharp but even. “That’s exactly what they want, and you know it. God,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I can see the tabloids now: ‘Prime Minister Hopeful and Supposed Gender Equality Advocate Louis Tomlinson Locks Self In Bunker and Sets Omega Rights Movement Back Three Centuries!’”

“Probably too long for a headline, that,” Niall mused, unhelpful. When both men glared back at him, he only shrugged. “What? I majored in Journalism, sue me.”

“You majored in Financial Journalism, Christiana Amanpour,” Louis shot back.

“‘S the same ––”

“Louis, listen to me,” Liam cut in, standing up from his desk and striding smoothly towards him. “I know you would do anything for the good of this country. I know you want to change it, I know you want to fight. But you can’t do that with a fucking bullet in your back!”

“No one’s going to assassinate me –”

“You don’t know that!” Liam screeched. “You saw how those stuck up misogynists reacted when you inherited your father’s seat in the House of Lords. I thought they were going to straight up strap a bomb to your chair –”

“Well I fucking survived, didn’t I?” Louis yelled back. “I showed up without security every bloody day, and fought my fights, and I’m not going to back down now!”

“This is different, though, Lou,” Niall interrupted from where he was standing, his voice suddenly somber. “This isn’t one seat in a hundred. You’re the most controversial candidate for Prime Minister in the last century, and it looks like you’re going to win. The opposition is going to get desperate.”

“So you want me to run away? Are you mad?” Louis asked, unable to accept the words that were coming out of his mouth. “Why don’t I just put on an apron that says ‘Mate Me, I’m Pretty’ and set the Omega flag on fire, while I’m at it?”

“You’re not running,” Liam said firmly. “You’re lying low. You’ll go to the cabin for a week, just to give us some time to talk to MI5 and come up with a game plan without a target on your back.”

“It’s campaign suicide--” “Better than murder,” Niall threw in, face stern, and if Niall was being this serious, maybe it was dire. Still, Louis rolled his eyes. “I don’t really get how dumping me in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, by myself, is going to deter assassins from finding me,” he answered, voice bordering petulant. “If anything, they’ll have me cornered where it’s easy to dump the body.”

“Do not joke like that, Louis William Tomlinson,” Liam barked, immediately paling as the Alpha timbre slipped out. “I’m sorry,” he rushed to say, raising his hands towards Louis in surrender. “You know I didn’t mean to do that.”

Louis swallowed, trying to fight the familiar nausea of displeasing an Alpha that was curling thickly at the bottom of his belly. God, fuck biology. Fuck biology sideways, honestly.

“It’s okay, I know,” he managed to say, feeling placated by the sheer amount of guilt pouring out of Liam’s eyes. Liam stepped forward then, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Louis, please,” he nearly begged, looking more pained than Louis had ever seen him. “You know I would never pull rank – gender or otherwise.” He looked straight at Louis, apologetic. “But if this is what it takes to keep my best friend safe, I will command you to go.”

Louis paused, biting his tongue between his teeth as he thought this through. Admittedly, he was shaken – the image of him lying alone, asleep and vulnerable, while a stranger, possibly armed, traipsed comfortably through his flat was enough to make his stomach turn – and though he knew his campaign would take a massive hit if he lay low even for a week, Liam was right. He would be of no use to Britain if whomever was threatening him got their way first.

Slowly, he smirked, the left side of his lip curling upward.

“I have been meaning to take a holiday,” he joked, weakly.

“Oh thank God,” Liam sighed in relief, pulling Louis into a hug.

“Whoop whoop!” Niall added, joining in. They squeezed tight around him, rocking Louis back and forth like they used to when he’d scored a goal for Eton at a championship game and Louis smiled, knowing that no matter what the world threw at him, at least he had these two.

Then, Liam pulled away, slapping his shoulder twice. “I’ll tell Harry to pack his things.”

Like a record playing with a faulty needle, Louis brain skipped.

“Wait,” he said, holding his hand up. “Who?”

Liam blinked.

“Harry Styles,” he answered easily, like he had mentioned him all along. “Head of Royal Household Security, Alpha Cavalry. My bodyguard. Well,” he paused, his eyes happy. “I guess your bodyguard, now.”

[theskyrimlibrary]

2920, Last Seed, v8

Last Seed Book Eight of 2920 The Last Year of the First Era by Carlovac Townway

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

1 Last Seed, 2920 Mournhold, Morrowind They were gathered in the Duke’s courtyard at twilight, enjoying the smell and warmth of a fire of dry branches and bittergreen leaves. Tiny embers flew into the sky, hanging for a few moments before vanishing.

“I was rash,” agreed the Duke, soberly. “But Lorkhan had his laugh, and all is well. The Morag Tong will not assassinate the Emperor now that my payment to them is at the bottom of the Inner Sea. I thought you had made some sort of a truce with the Daedra princess.”

“What your sailors called a daedra may not have been one,” said Sotha Sil. “Perhaps it was a rogue battlemage or even a lightning bolt that destroyed your ship.”

“The Prince and the Emperor are en route to take possession of Ald Lambasi as our truce agreed. It is certainly typical of the Cyrodiil to assume that their concessions are negotiable, while ours are not,” Vivec pulled out a map. “We can meet them here, in this village to the north-west of Ald Lambasi, Fervinthil.”

“But will we meet them to talk,” ask Almalexia. “Or to make war?”

No one had an answer to that.

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

15 Last Seed, 2920 Fervinthil, Morrowind

A late summer squall blew through the small village, darkening the sky except for flashing of lightning which leapt from cloud to cloud like acrobats. Water rushed down the narrow streets ankle-deep, and the Prince had to shout to be heard by his captains but a few feet away from him.

“There’s an inn up ahead! We’ll wait there for the storm to pass before pressing on to Ald Lambasi!”

The inn was warm and dry, and bustling with business. Barmaids were rushing back and forth, bringing greef and wine to a back room, evidently excited about a famous visitor. Someone who was attracting more attention than the mere heir to the Empire of Tamriel.

Amused, Juilek watched them run until he overheard the name of “Vivec.”

“My lord Vivec,” he said, bursting into the back room. “You must believe me, I knew nothing about the attack on Black Gate until after it happened. We will, of course, be returning it to your care forthwith. I wrote you a letter to that effect at your palace in Balmora, but obviously you’re not there,” he paused, taking in the many new faces in the room. “I’m sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Juilek Cyrodiil.”

“My name is Almalexia,” said the most beautiful woman the Prince had ever seen. “Won’t you join us?”

“Sotha Sil,” said a serious-looking Dunmer in a white cloak, shaking the Prince’s hand and showing him to a seat.

“Indoril Brindisi Dorom, Duke-Prince of Mournhold,” said the massively-built man next to him as he sat down.

“I recognize that the events of the last month suggest, at best, that the Imperial Army is not under my control,” said the Prince after ordering some wine. “This is true. The army is my father’s.”

“I understood that the Emperor was going to be coming to Ald Lambasi as well,” said Almalexia.

“Officially, he is,” said the Prince cautiously. “Unofficially, he’s still back in the Imperial City. He’s met with an unfortunate accident.”

Vivec glanced the Duke quickly before looking at the Prince: “An accident?”

“He’s fine,” said the Prince quickly. “He’ll live, but it looks like he’ll lose an eye. It was an altercation that has nothing to do with the war. The only good news is that while he recovers, I have the use of his seal. Any agreement we make here and now will be binding to the Empire, both in my father’s reign and mine.”

“Then let’s start agreeing,” smiled Almalexia.

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

16 Last Seed, 2920 Wroth Naga, Cyrodiil

The tiny hamlet of Wroth Naga greeted Cassyr with its colorful houses perched on a promontory overlooking the stretch of the Wrothgarian mountain plain and High Rock beyond. Had he been in a better mood, the sight would have been breathtaking. As it was, he could only think that in practical terms, a small village like this would have meager provisions for himself and his horse.

He rode down into the main square, where an inn called the Eagle’s Cry stood. Directing the stable boy to house and feed his horse, Cassyr walked into the inn and was surprised by its ambience. A minstrel he had heard play once in Gilderdale was performing a jaunty old tune to the clapping of the mountain men. Such forced merriment was not what Cassyr wanted at that moment. A glum Dunmer woman was seated at the only table far from the noise, so he took his drink there and sat down without invitation. It was only when he did so that he noticed that she was holding a newborn baby.

“I’ve just come from Morrowind,” he said rather awkwardly, lowering his voice. “I’ve been fighting for Vivec and the Duke of Mournhold against the Imperial army. A traitor to my people, I guess you’d call me.”

“I am also a traitor to my people,” said the woman, holding up her hand which was scarred with a branded symbol. “It means that I can never go back to my homeland.”

“Well, you’re not thinking of staying here, are you?” laughed Cassyr. “It’s certainly quaint, but some wintertide, there’s going to be snow up to your eyelashes. It’s no place for a new baby. What is her name?”

“Bosriel. It means ‘Beauty of the Forest.’ Where are you going?”

“Dwynnen, on the bay in High Rock. You’re welcome to join me, I could use the company.” He held out his hand. “Cassyr Whitley.”

“Turala,” said the woman after a pause. She was going to use her family’s name first, as is tradition, but she realized that it was no longer her name. “I would love to accompany you, thank you.”

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

19 Last Seed, 2920 Ald Lambassi, Morrowind

Five men and two women stood in the silence of the Great Room of the castle, the only sound the scrawl of quill on parchment and the gentle tapping of rain on the large picture window. As the Prince set the seal of Cyrodiil on the document, the peace was made official. The Duke of Mournhold broke out in a roar of delight, ordering wine brought in to commemorate the end of eighty years of war.

Only Sotha Sil stood apart from the group. His face betrayed no emotion. Those who knew him best knew he did not believe in endings or beginnings, but in the continuous cycle of which this was but a small part.

“My Prince,” said the castle steward, unhappy at breaking the celebration. “There is a messenger here from your mother, the Empress. He asked to see your father, but as he did not arrive - - “

Juilek excused himself and went to speak with the messenger.

“The Empress does not live in the Imperial City?” asked Vivec.

“No,” said Almalexia, shaking her head sadly. “Her husband has imprisoned her in Black Marsh, fearing that she was plotting a revolution against him. She is extremely wealthy and has powerful allies in the western Colovian estates so he could not marry another or have her executed. They’ve been at an impasse for the last seventeen years since Juilek was a child.”

The Prince returned a few minutes later. His face betrayed his anxiety, though he took troubles to hide it.

“My mother needs me,” he said simply. “I’m afraid I must leave at once. If I may have a copy of the treaty, I will bring it with me to show the Empress the good we have done today, and then I will carry it on to the Imperial City so it may be made official.”

Prince Juilek left with the fond farewells of the Three of Morrowind. As they watched him ride out into the rainswept night south towards Black Marsh, Vivec said, “Tamriel will be much healed when he has the throne.”

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

31 Last Seed, 2920 Dorsza Pass, Black Marsh

The moon was rising over the desolate quarry, steaming with swamp gas from a particularly hot summer as the Prince and his two guard escort rode out of the forest. The massive piles of earth and dung had been piled high in antiquity by some primitive, long-dead tribe of Black Marsh, hoping to keep out some evil from the north. Evidently, the evil had broken through at Dorsza Pass, the large crack in the sad, lonely rampart that stretched for miles.

The black twisted trees that grew on the barrier cast strange shadows down, like a net tangling. The Prince’s mind was on his mother’s cryptic letter, hinting at the threat of an invasion. He could not, of course, tell the Dunmer about it, at the very least until he knew more and had notified his father. After all, the letter was meant for him. It was its urgent tone that made him decide to go directly to Gideon.

The Empress had also warned him about a band of former slaves who attacked caravans going into Dorsza Pass. She advised him to be certain to make his Imperial shield visible, so they would know he was not one of the hated Dunmer slavers. Upon riding into the tall weeds that flooded through the pass like a noxious river, the Prince ordered that his shield be displayed.

“I can see why the slaves use this,” said the Prince’s captain. “It’s an excellent location for an ambush.”

Juilek nodded his head, but his thoughts were elsewhere. What threat of invasion could the Empress have discovered? Were the Akaviri on the seas again? If so, how could his mother from her cell in Castle Giovese know of it? A rustle in the weeds and a single sharp human cry behind him interrupted his ponderings.

Turning around, the Prince discovered that he was alone. His escort had vanished.

The Prince peered over the stretch of the moonlit sea of grass which waved in almost hypnotic patterns to the ebb and flow of the night wind billowing through the pass. It was impossible to tell if a struggling soldier was beneath this system of vibrations, a dying horse behind another. A high, whistling wind drowned out any sound the victims of the ambush might be making.

Juilek drew his sword, and thought about what to do, his mind willing his heart not to panic. He was closer to the exit of the pass than the entrance. Whatever had slain his escort must have been behind him. If he rode fast enough, perhaps he could outrun it. Spurring his horse to gallop, he charged for the hills ahead, framed by the might black piles of dirt.

When he was thrown, it happened so suddenly, he was hurdling forward before he was truly conscious of the fact. He landed several yards beyond where his horse had fallen, breaking his shoulder and his back on impact. A numbness washed over him as he stared at his poor, dying steed, its belly sliced open by one of several spears jutting up just below the surface of the grass.

Prince Juilek was not able to turn and face the figure that emerged from the grass, nor able to move to defend himself. His throat was cut without ceremony.

Miramor cursed when he saw the face of his victim more clearly in the moonlight. He had seen the Emperor at the Battle of Bodrum when he had fought in His Imperial Majesty’s command, and this was clearly not the Emperor. Searching the body, he found the letter and a treaty signed by Vivec, Almalexia, Sotha Sil, and the Duke of Mournhold representing Morrowind and the Prince Juilek Cyrodiil, representing the Cyrodiil Empire.

“Curse my luck,” muttered Miramor to himself and the whispering grass. “I’ve only killed a Prince. Where’s the reward in that?”

Miramor destroyed the letter, as Zuuk had instructed him to do, and pocketed the treaty. At the very least, such a curiosity would have some market value. He disassembled the traps as he pondered his next step. Return to Gideon and ask his employer for a lesser reward for killing the heir? Move on to other lands? At the very least, he considered, he had picked up two useful skills from the Battle of Bodrum. From the Dunmer, he had learned the excellent spear trap. And abandoning the Imperial army, he had learned how to skulk in the grass.

The Year is Continued in Hearth Fire.

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

[dailyaudiobible]

01/15/2020 DAB Transcript

Genesis 31:17-32:12, Matthew 10:24-11:6, Psalms 13:1-6, Proverbs 3:16-18

Today is the 15th day of January, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I’m Brian it's great to be here with you. And I suppose at some point halfway through today we…we cross the center of month number one, halfway through the first month of a new year and decade. So, well done…well done. And let's just take a moment here to reflect on the first two weeks of the Bible. Like the Bible has been speaking to us. It is an amazing voyage that we have embarked on together. And, so, let's continue that journey. Today…well…this week we’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible. And today Genesis chapter 31 verse 17 to 32 verse 12. And we continue to read of the great drama of the patriarch Jacob.

Commentary:

Alright. Let’s look at what Jesus is talking about in the book of Matthew today. He's still commissioning, He’s still instructing His followers as they’re being sent out and He’s basically telling them, “this is what you can expect.” So, “a disciple isn't above the teacher. A slave isn’t above the master. It’s enough for a disciple to become like his Teacher, which is why we aspire to become Christlike in our faith. But that’s not Jesus point. Jesus point is, “don't expect to be treated differently then you're watching me be treated. If you want to become like your Master, then you should see the things that your Master goes through. This is what you ‘e gonna go through.” And, so, He says, “if they call the head of the house Beelzebul, how much more the members of his household?” This word, Beelzebul or Beelzebub. We’ve probably heard it before. We’ve probably heard it Beelzebub like referring to the devil. Although this wouldn't have been a name, I suspect that the evil one would've chosen for itself. So, Beelzebul, means Baal the Prince. And we’re just a couple weeks into the Bible but we’re gonna see Baal worship a lot. So, Beelzebub is probably a distortion of this, and it means the Lord of the flies. More…more specifically like Lord of…of the…the manure pile. Alright. And, so, the subjects would be the flies. So, Jesus is saying like, “you’re becoming a part of this divine family, this household and I am the head of the house and if they’re gonna call me that how much more are they gonna call you that.” And this is another opportunity for us to pause right at the beginning of this journey because it clicks so many things into place about our own personal faith journey because we believe that when we…when we come into a relationship with Jesus and begin to follow that path then we become children of God and so blessing becomes apparent all around us and this is what we have to look forward to. And, so, it becomes really confusing then when we have to face supreme struggles in life. And what we have to become aware of is that Jesus, God made flesh dwelling among us as a human being faced and predicted of the struggles of life that we’re going to face. This idea that the opposition will come our way and that it that…that it must be endured and that we must press into and press through these things. This isn't hidden in the Bible, it’s like blinking all over the place, and ultimately where going to find out how necessary challenge is to our growth. But nevertheless, Jesus is preparing His first friends to go into the world, and this is what He's telling them to expect. So, after we talk about the Lord of flies He says, “don't be afraid of them. There’s nothing covered that won't be uncovered and nothing hidden that won’t be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the light. What you hear in a whisper, proclaim to the house tops. Don't fear those who can kill the body but aren’t able to kill the soul. Fear the one who can do both. Aren’t two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not even one of them falls to the ground without the Father's consent. And even the hairs of the head…the hairs of your head have been counted. So, don't be afraid. You're worth more than many sparrows.” So, what are Jesus fundamental instructions here. He’s telling His friends, “people are gonna say some pretty bad things about you. They’re gonna make all kinds of weird and awful references about you because they're doing that to me and you are a part of me. So, this is what you can expect. They’re gonna…they’re gonna say all kinds of stuff about you, but don't worry. Nothing that’s covered is gonna stay uncovered and there's nothing that's hidden that won't be made known.” In other words, keep going, keep being true, keep announcing the kingdom. In the end what's in the dark will be drug out into the light. Keep enduring, keep moving forward, keep going. “Those that acknowledge me before others, I will acknowledge before the Father in heaven and those who deny I’ll deny before the Father in heaven.” Okay and then this is where it gets really, really challenging. I’m quoting Jesus. “Don't assume that I came to bring peace on the earth. I did not come to bring peace but a sword. For I came to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man's enemies will be the members of his household.” And that’s Jesus quoting from the prophet Micah when He goes on. “The one who loves a father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. The one who loves a son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever doesn't take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Anyone who finds his life will lose it, and anyone who loses his life because of me will find it.” If those words are disruptive to you, like if…if they kind of shake you a bit and you’re like, “okay. How…how would I…how do I even think about doing that successfully? Then good. Then Jesus has spoken words that have gotten your attention. And you can imagine that if you were standing in a crowd around Jesus as these things were being spoken that they would have your attention. But how do we do this? Like, how do we love father or mother less and love him more so that we’re worthy or how do we love son or daughter less so…so that we’re worthy? Is that even quantifiable, right? Like, could you ever think to yourself, “okay. I love my daughter with all of my heart but a little less than I love Jesus and I see that on my love gauge meter.” What's underneath all this? What is Jesus getting at? Why is He saying disruptive things to get our attention? What are we supposed to know here? Basically lets just remember our journey and its beginning, like on day two, when we were crossing through Genesis chapter 3 and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and the rebellion and the eyes of Adam and Eve being opened and their shame and their awareness of their nakedness. The way that we describe this in the Christian faith is often like a canyon or a chasm, a separation from God. Like, that’s very, very common imagery. Let’s go into that for a second. If you are separate from something, then you are aware that you are other than that thing, right? But that separation was never intended to be the way we viewed reality. And awareness of our separateness from God was not our created state. So, anyone who's ever gone through a situation where the reality that you thought you understood was not the whole picture, like there was a whole lot more and it's overwhelming. Like, that can be devastating. For example, if you're a married person, you find out your spouse has been unfaithful, that is a complete shift in consciousness and awareness, and a complete reframing of the reality that you thought you knew. And when something like that happens, the union that you thought you had is blown apart, and you couldn't feel more separate than you do. We could say you become acutely aware of the separation between you. When these sorts of things happen, what do you hear? We've decided to separate. So, you can imagine Adam and Eve becoming aware for the first time of these categories, that they even exist. And we see from the Scriptures, they’re…they’re eyes are opened, and they feel ashamed and they feel naked and they hide and then…then they’re covered and then they’re covering themselves from then on. When our natural state is naked and unashamed and unafraid, like a child. After this, a reality that wasn't the intended one was made manifest, became their reality and required them to create an identity that was shaped around themselves because this is all they need to do. And at some point, along the line we began to call this our “self”. It's the thing. It's the construct of that we have that tells us we are separate from somebody else and we have our own way of looking at things. Okay, let's go back into our story here. Jesus is saying all of these things. Like why is He telling His friends, “they’re calling me Lord of the flies, Lord of the manure pile. They're gonna call you that too.” Like why would anybody call pure light and love and graciousness, why would anybody call a true, fully, whole human being like Jesus anything like that? Truth and true humanity came into the world and were modeled and humanity had fallen so far from God that it could not not only recognize God, but rather confuse God with Beelzebub and eventually plot and succeed to assassinate God. The religious leaders who were doing the work of stewarding the souls of the people in their relations to God could not see beyond themselves in order to acknowledge God. To maybe put it more in the vernacular of the Bible, “the light came into the darkness and the darkness comprehended it not. Couldn't understand, couldn't become aware.” So, this “self”, and we all have one of those, right, this awareness of our separateness, this “self” and all these things that we attach it to in order to have an identity can actually serve to reinforce our separation from God. The very thing that this Jesus that we are learning and reading about came to bridge; however, in crossing that bridge…and again this is Christianity 101…in crossing that bridge we have to leave something behind, ourselves. We’re instructed in the Scriptures to die to ourselves and become alive unto God and in the process become awakened and aware of who we really are in Christ, which we will explore very deeply as we move through the New Testament. So, fundamentally what Jesus is saying is that anything you are holding onto, any attachment that you have in your life, whether that's to a person or to a place or to a thing, if you are more attached to that, if you're looking for that to be your source of life then you aren’t worthy of me. This…this isn't something new. This is the whole Bible. We’re just gonna repeatedly watch different people over different periods of time try to create a world that they can control and live in only to find it destroys them because we do not live in a godless world and this world will not work without Him. And the only way forward is into full and utter surrender. And when that comes into our lives, when we think about Jesus and surrendering to Him, we might be able to get our minds around surrendering to God but then when we look at our lives functionally, we realize we’re not doing a whole lot of surrendering or sacrificing. And people don't like to be told to do. People don't like to submit and surrender. People don't want the truth enough to search for it with all of their hearts no matter what it might bring them to. The truth will and does set us free, but not before it confronts what is false. And we as people are notoriously not good at accepting that. So, that brings Jesus words, “don't assume that I came to bring peace on the earth. I didn't come to bring peace but a sword.” What we’re talking about here is the truth, the truth of how things are. And the more we listen to Jesus and His teachings and explore this, the more we will see how distant from that reality the world is. And it's easy for us to think like, “why can’t everybody just get on the same page? Why can't we just figure out hunger? Why can't we just figure out peace? Like, we’re people. We’re in this together. Why can't we figure this out?” That's kind of what God has been saying all along and that's kind of what he says throughout all of the Bible. “You guys. Return to me. The whole story can change.” One kingdom does not replace another kingdom without conflict and disruption though, and that happens in our own hearts. In fact, it happens here first. And so, let's embrace it.

Prayer:

Jesus, we…it's hard to consider the disruption even when we know you are in it. It's hard to consider it good until later…you…because it's unpleasant, it…it shakes what we think we know, it…it causes us to…to feel out of sorts. And all you're doing is exposing our need for control and all of the false constructs of our lives. And, so, we’re here and we trust you. You are God and we trust you. And, so, we invite your Holy Spirit to lead us into all truth. And this is a common thing that we pray for. We..we need it desperately, we need it daily, we need it hourly, we need it every minute. So, come Holy Spirit we pray. Lead us into all truth we ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what's going on around here. So, be sure to stay tuned and stay connected in any way that you want to.

The Daily Audio Bible Shop is available with resources for the journey that we are on, all kinds of different resources, from things to write to things to read and listen to. So, check that out.

One thing I have not mentioned at all, yet this year is our…our long-running relationship with coffee and tea. It might sound odd. It’s just kind of grown up in the community. I personally am a bit of a…a coffee snob and over the last couple of years have grown very fond of tea as well, but a bit of a coffee snob and that's kind of where it all began. I was just looking for the best coffee, the best things to drink coffee with, all of this. I guess it's been over a decade now since we formed our own brand of coffee and it’s called Windfarm. And that name, Windfarm, it's on other things that we do as well. It…it's just a little nod to the book of Ezekiel chapter 37. There is a story, it's famous and there's a valley of dry bones and God asks the prophet, “can these bones live again?” And the prophets like, “how? Only You would know that.” And God tells Ezekiel to call to the four winds, the breath of life and resurrection happens. And, so, Windfarm, just this ongoing, never ceasing calling the breath of life into the community into the world is…is kinda wear that name comes from. But anyway, we’ve been roasting our own coffee and importing our own raw green and…and tea…we’ve been doing this for a long time, partly because it was the rhythm of…of my life. Then I realized. you know what, morning coffee is a tradition around the world. Morning tea or coffee, that’s something that everybody, everybody does. What if what…if we could create a better product? What if we could...what if we could just be boutique-y and it's really fresh and we send it out really fresh and all of the resources because this is like something that we’re gonna buy anyway, we’re gonna go through the drive-through and get a cup of coffee. We’re gonna do…we’re gonna do all this anyway. What if we could just channel that into…into what we’re doing here. And, so, that's where coffee and tea were born, and you can find them in the Daily Audio Bible Shop. You can see all the different varieties that we have. You can have it sent to you every month, however many bags you want or drink or consume. And they can be shipped to you fresh every month. And man…when that little box arrives and that containers cut open, the fresh coffee comes flooding out and it's just wonderful. So, we have that - coffee, tea. Coffee can be sent to you every month. We also found last year, so it's a relatively new product, a way to steep coffee like tea. It might sound odd, but I had to try it for myself. Last year when I went to Israel, I had a bunch of these pouches to try to see to see if it was gonna be a decent cup of coffee because I travel a lot. And, so, end…end up drinking a lot of bad coffee. And this was good. So, got back from Israel and went about the business of…of creating Windfarm steeped coffee. And, so, that is great. Its Nitro sealed. So, it just…the thing about coffee is…it…it will go stale like food. Like it…it does get worse with time. And normally we’re drinking really old coffee and so you’re drinking bad coffee. But this nitrogen pushes the oxygen out and it keeps it in this state of freshness for months and months. And, so, the steeped version of Windfarm coffee, for those of you who travel or want to keep some at the office or whatever, those are available as well in the Daily Audio Bible shop.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that dailyaudiobible.com as well. There's a link on the homepage and I thank you profoundly for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, you can hit the Hotline button, the little red button in the app and begin to share or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I will be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible my name is Harold and I am in St. Louis and I am not a believer. I actually was looking for a podcast because I am training right now, I started training for the Chicago Marathon and I’ve been looking for something because last year training, listening to like Seth Rogan and some of those other podcasts just started to weave me down and I figured it was a new year and I’ve been listening since January 1st. And I have to say I appreciate everything that you guys are doing here with the podcast. It’s not like when you go to church, I guess where people are trying to force you something. I appreciate that you’re reading to us and that you explain it afterwards and I’m hoping that with every run I got on it will maybe bring me closer to finding the truth that I guess everybody here knows. So, I guess, pray for this Audio Bible because it’s making a difference in my life right now. Since listening I’ve been happier and more at peace and I just want to say thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done, everything you do and thank you.

Hello DAB family hope everyone is doing well. My name is Okezee I’m reaching out to family to offer prayers for my mother. My mother had a stroke on December 31. And, so, we kind of brought in the new year on not the most excited note. She’s currently in the hospital. It’s a pretty severe stroke but I know, and I trust that God can, and He will heal her if it is in His will. So, I’m reaching out to you family to lift my mother up in prayer. Her name is Mary. She is a woman of faith. You can see that she’s fighting to hang in there. And at this point I just…I turn it over to God but I know that I have a family of prayer warriors out there and I’m… I’m calling on you to raise her up, to bring her before the Lord and just asking for complete healing and restoration and above all that His will might be done. Thank you, family. I love you guys. I need you guys. Be well.

Good morning friends this is Jenn in SoCal a.k.a. Prayer Warrior Princess. Today is Wednesday, January 5th. I turned on the DAB into my earphones about 530 and I forgot that I had the volume up from a workout yesterday and Brian was…was loud. And every once in a while throughout the year I do that and my first funny thought is, “why you yelling at me Brian?” And then I laugh out loud to myself because that’s like the last thing in the universe Brian would ever do but it makes me giggle whenever it happens. And then I started thinking about Proverbs 27:14 - if you greet your neighbor loudly in the morning it’s…it’s not taking as a blessing but as a curse and I was giggling some more. So, then I took Rocky out for his walk and I opened the front door and my neighbor was literally pulling out of his driveway for…for work at like 5:40 AM. And, so, I was careful to just wave and smile just a little bit, not too much so I wouldn’t annoy the neighbor and it be taken as a curse and then I laughed again. So, all of this funny stuff pre-coffee that I’m sharing with you all the DAB Campfire and I wanted to give you a few giggles too. And then I was coming home I was rushing because I wore a different jacket and I was so cold and my brain kinda tuned out for about 45 seconds on the…on the Scripture that Brian was reading and at precisely when I opened the front door to get in the house and was thinking, “oh thank God it’s going to be warm again”, precisely. That’s when he was reading, “and the door shall be opened.” So, anyway all this silliness just to give you all a few giggles. I love you. Bye.

Hi, good morning this is Laverne from the UK. This is a message for Lee from Chicago, you called in on the 7th of January. I just want you to know that I couldn’t go any further without getting on my knees and praying and I want you to know that this is what the Lord is saying to you. Do not fear Lee for I am with you. Do not be dismayed for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee, yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness, that’s Isaiah 41:10. Lee I just need you to know that God holds you. He’s holding you. He’s never stopped holding you and there’s not a tear that doesn’t fall from your eye that He has not caught. He knows every single part of you and He’s with you and He will never ever leave you. And when things seem we’re weakest that’s when He’s there the most. You have to think about when Peter stepped out into the boat and the storm was raging around Him, your only thing is to keep your eyes on Him. That’s all you have to do, and He will, I’m telling you, He will do the rest. He’s done it for me every single time even when I felt it wasn’t there that’s when He was there the most. And I’m telling you now I know that the Daily Audio Bible is holding you up in prayer, whether they get this…whether they record or not, know that they’re praying for you and I’m praying for you my brother and I love you and I just want you to hold on. And if you need anything, call again and we will be there for you. Just hold on. And I also want to say hey to Ben and Bella, thank you for your new year’s message and thank you…and just a hey to __ Pitman welcome to the Daily Audio Bible family. We love you. Keep holding on Lee. I love you. Don’t forget that God’s never left you and He never will. Blessings on you all. Take care family. Bye.

Hi family this is His Welsh Girl. I rung in November asking for prayer because of my anxious thoughts with my daughter’s upcoming wedding and I just wanted to say thank you if you prayed. The wedding was lovely, and God blessed us so much. And I wanted to say thank you to Michael from Arizona. Your message to Anonymous resonated so much and you were talking about how much God loves us and to take thoughts captive and I just wanted to reiterate that, you know, all these thoughts they can just take over our minds and we just need to lay them all down at His feet because He wants to look after us because He loves us so much. I wanted to say, Suzanne who’s been hurt by her family, Carla with the broken heart, and Diana with stage IV cancer, Patsy whose husband left her last Christmas, and Diane Olive Brown, I’m praying for you and Randy from Washington, you sounded so defeated and sad the other day and please know that I’m praying for your marriage. And Brian and family, thank you so much. Brian when you prayed the blessing on New Year’s Eve it was just beautiful, and it just gave me goosebumps. I knew what was coming but it was just wonderful, and I just thank God for this community, this church, this global church. It’s just brilliant. And what a wonderful Father we have. Okay. Thanks. Bye.

Good morning DABbers this is Walta of the Burning Bush that will not be Devoured for the Love and the Glory of our God and King. This morning it is Wednesday, I believe it is…today’s the 8th of January and I am praying for my sister who has a biopsy tomorrow, Thursday because of a growing lump in her left breast. I have the urge to pray for all women who are currently experiencing the same thing. And if you don’t mind, humor me a bit and put your left hand over your left breast and just pray with me. Father God we thank You and praise You oh God for Your beautiful daughters Your princesses. I thank You God that when You made us You said we were good. You made us in all perfection. Holy Father as we draw near to You, we ask You to take away that which is not of You. We ask that You __ every single lump in the breast right now in the name of Jesus. We come against every plan of the enemy to bring…to steal kill and destroy. Father I pray that You’ll __ that lump, shrink it and destroy it. I pray in the name of Jesus and God we pray for complete healing that You take out everything in that body that is not if You. We speak healing…healing over these mothers and over these daughters in the name of Jesus, complete healing. And Father God we pray for all that are going through abnormalities in the chest and breast area. Father we speak healing of God in the name of Jesus. Thank You, God for restoring that which You called perfect in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[lumi-klovstad-games]

The Lady Gwendolyn Triggs

"I am whatever my lady requires me to be. Her eyes, her ears, her voice, a blade in the night, or a banner afield. She speaks, and I make it reality. My dignity is in service, my honor in fealty."

"Dignitatem servitium, fide honoris" ~Motto of House Triggs

The role of Jarl in Skyrim is a difficult one. The role of High King or High Queen is even more so.

Both jobs become substantially more difficult when loyalty is in short supply among the prince's lieutenants.

One family that has made the Jarls of Solitude sleep much easier is House Triggs, historic servants of the throne of Solitude. Trained as warriors and statesmen in the Imperial City in Cyrodiil from birth, the children of House Triggs are thoroughly educated in every art and science that the throne may require need of to better serve it.

Of the fourteen generations of House Triggs that has served the throne so far, no knight so produced has been as distinguished for gallantry, loyalty, and skill as the Lady Gwendolyn Triggs, a knight of peerless recognition and fealty in the service of the late High King Torygg, and now in the service of his widow, Elisif the Fair, Jarl of Solitude.

With loyalty on the level of religious zealotry, Gwendolyn was pressured for greatness beyond that of her brothers and cousins due to her sex -- determined to outdo the boys at everything so as to win the highest commendations and postings was her game, and she played to obsessive levels of mastery and talent. Her hard work paid off when she was selected by the Jarl's Court as the obvious choice of Thane.

Her service to High King Torygg was, unfortunately, as brief as his rule.

Whilst fighting pirates in the North Seas on the High King's orders, Gwendolyn received shocking word of the High King's death in ritual combat against Ulfric Stormcloak. The word passed around became "treason" as news filtered through to her and her soldiers that Ulfric had won his bout by unnatural means of elder magic: the Thu'um.

In a rare moment of disobedience, Gwendolyn left the majority of the ships under her command to continue to secure the shipping lanes but returned with her own vessel  to Solitude with all possible haste. She returned to a city in grief, and a country in chaos. Torygg's death had sent shockwaves through Skyrim's political foundations, and created a bloody war of succession.

Though Gwendolyn longed to be afield fighting the war against the rebel Stormcloak faction, she knew her place was in Haafingar, helping Elisif effectively execute her duties as Jarl. Despite her personal dislike of General Tullius, the Imperial Army's commanding officer sent to quell the rebellion, she trusted him to do his job so she could focus on her own.

More than just a personal dislike for Gwendolyn was her ill regard for Thane Erikur, a fellow Thane in the Jarl's court who had gotten the Thane's position in the oldest manner: he'd bought it, lock, stock, and barrel. His lack of personal or professional loyalty and any sort of code of honor, caring only for his own enrichment, had led to a sense of completely unadulterated loathing between the two. Merely composing herself around the man proved to be the greatest and most difficult of her undertakings, and she longed for the day Elisif ordered his death, which Gwendolyn assured herself would eventually come.

Her relations with Sybille Stentor, the court mage, were icy but still markedly better. Stentor was a known quantity to Gwendolyn, having served several generations of Jarls and having been one of Gwendolyn's teachers growing up. Stentor was a difficult woman to be friendly with, but easy to be professional with, which suited Gwendolyn well enough. She didn't need to be best friends with everyone in court, she just needed to be able to trust their loyalty and ability, and Stentor had proven she had both in spades. The only thing about her that unnerved Gwendolyn was her ever-youthful appearance, but Gwendolyn chalked that down to a tactful application of sorcery and alchemy and elected not to dwell on such things further.

Thane Bryling was a curious sort: by all rights, her rigid sense of duty and honor was no less than Gwendolyn's, but Gwendolyn still was critical of Bryling: her sense of honor was underpinned by a naiveté that Gwendolyn suspected could, in a perfect storm of conditions, cause Bryling's loyalty to turn from Solitude to the Rebels. They got along well enough, and were even outwardly friendly with each other, but Gwendolyn never betrayed how much she would have been prepared to cut Bryling down without a moment's hesitation if her allegiances had shifted.

If there was one member of the court whom it may have been said that Gwendolyn considered a true friend, it was without a doubt Falk Firebeard, Elisif's Steward. His skill, honor, and devotion to the throne were second only to Gwendolyn's own, and his personal loyalty to Elisif was almost akin to Gwendolyn's as well. They bonded well over this commonality, and swiftly learned to trust each other in all things. Gwendolyn found departing Solitude on assignments far easier to stomach knowing that Falk remained behind to take care of her beloved Jarl.

And Elisif herself was truly beloved by Gwendolyn. What began as a chivalric courtly love gradually had become romantic after the long periods spent consoling the Jarl over the death of her late husband. Had Gwendolyn come from a more noble house, she would no doubt have asked Elisif to marry her, all the better to protect and serve her Lady. As the Civil War heated up, Gwendolyn began to consider the option more heavily -- while not born into nobility, the war would undoubtedly provide opportunity for social advancement; Nords didn’t frown on same-sex relationships or marriages like people in Cyrodiil did, and no self-respecting Nord would barricade a War Hero's prospects for long. And, if Gwendolyn brought back Ulfric Stormcloak's head on a spike… well… that was the sort of thing that would open almost every door before her. 

Gwendolyn's loyalty to Elisif knew no bounds. Where most of her clan would have considered their motto only a charming advisory from ages past, Gwendolyn saw holy writ. She had no dignity beyond her service, no honor outside her fealty. She would be whatever Elisif needed her to be. She would be a counselor, a bodyguard, a general, an assassin, a wife, and even more if only Elisif told her to be. She would move the world for Her Love, and from this willingness arose the ability to do just that.

Admittedly, the arrival of the Dragons in Skyrim did upset Gwendolyn's plans for the war to a degree, but years of training and service had given her keen perspective, and where others saw crisis, she saw further opportunity to prove her worthiness to Elisif and the people of Solitude. After all, with the revelation that Gwendolyn was the prophesied Last Dragonborn, fated to save all of Nirn from the scourge of Alduin the World-Eater, what was the firstborn of Akatosh but another head to mount on a spike for the glory of Solitude and the defense of its Jarl?

The victory would be hers, both over God-Dragon and Man alike. And in doing so, she hoped to finally prove to Elisif that none loved her more or were more loyal and worthy… than the Lady Gwendolyn Triggs.

[trueloveseyeroll]

The Dancing Thief (11/13)

Summary: Pretending to be a noblewoman might be the dumbest thing Emma has ever agreed to do. And she’s not sure if meeting Lord Killian Jones made the whole thing better or worse. (Better. Definitely better.)

Rating: T (language and mild violence)

Beta: The wonderful @forget-me-not-s​

Artist: The lovely @captxinswans - check out her amazing artwork for chapter 1, chapter 2 and chapter 8!!

Word count: 4302 (62k words in total)

Chapter 1

AO3

For the past months, Killian’s life had been a whirlwind. The signs of dealings between his father and Lord Gold had made him wary, and meeting Emma had turned his world around in a most unimaginable way. Then, King George had fallen ill, which only succeeded in putting everyone on edge – bloody hell, someone had even tried to assassinate him! However, Killian hadn’t been too shocked by the attempt on his life – Emma saving him had rather overshadowed the assassination itself.

Now, Killian stood at the door to a townhouse about forty minutes away from his home on foot. Belle stood by his side, giving him some comfort in the fact that he wasn’t alone. She, too, found the whole ordeal rather strange, but simultaneously, it felt like they were at the cusp of something important. Something likely to be historical even.

“Nothing to do but knock, I suppose,” Killian said, stepping forth to do just that. He took hold of the door knocker, banging it thrice against the wood, and that simple action alone lifted Killian’s spirits. He was no longer standing in the corner, reading books or discussing politics with his friends. He wasn’t just scowling at Lord Gold from afar or confronting his father with no clear plan. No, coming here to the townhouse gave Killian a sense of control, a feeling that he didn’t have to be passive anymore.

The door opened.

Killian came face to face with Emma, and at once, all control, every concept he ever had of anything, just blew away. Her soft curls fell against her shoulders and down her back, a simple knit sweater and a pair of trousers keeping her warm. He’d seen her in ballgowns and in tight, dark garments fit for a thief, but the sight of her in such comfortable and common clothes didn’t fail to take his breath away. She was simply stunning. And as she smiled softly at him, everything seemed to settle down inside him, but in a much better way than before.

She really was turning his life upside down.

(And he couldn’t be happier about it.)

“Hi,” she said, her eyes quickly turning to his right. “You must be Belle.”

“Yes, I am. And I guess you must be Emma?”

“Yeah.” Her hand lingered on the side of the door. “Yeah, uh, come on in.”

Killian and Belle followed her inside the foyer, and he could sense that Emma found the situation strange as well. Awkward was perhaps a more fitting word.

“So, uh,” Emma began to say, but what she meant to tell Killian and Belle would never be known, as Will entered the foyer in just that moment.

“Belle! Lord Killian! Glad you could make it!” He pressed a light kiss to Belle’s cheek and Killian wondered what it might be like to greet Emma in such a way. Absolutely brilliant, that’s what it would be. He caught her looking at him, and the blush added to the quick aversion of her gaze made him wonder if she was thinking along the same lines.

Killian was quickly thrown out of such thoughts as Will made to kiss his cheek instead. In jest, obviously, but Killian kept him away with an outstretched hand.

“Were you always a coachman?” he couldn’t help but ask. Such behaviour didn’t exactly seem fitting for a man used to working with nobles.

Another man answered as he entered the room. “For the past many years, yes.” Killian recognized Emma’s steward from the balls - Robin, was it? “Unfortunately, our employer, the Dowager Lady of Sherwood was a bit too encouraging towards Will’s boyish indecorum.”

“But at least she kept him out of the worst sorts of trouble,” another voice said, this one belonging to a woman with long black hair, half of it pinned behind her head. She had pale skin and a beautiful, kind face.

Killian looked at Will, whose ears were turning the colour of his surname. Having friends discuss you in front of a lady you were halfway in love with was bound to cause a bit of embarrassment.

“And I’m sure you already know he can be a perfect gentleman when it counts,” the dark-haired woman smiled at Belle.

“When it counts?” Will repeated, offended. Belle merely laughed and said he’d been lovely so far, the compliment only succeeding in further reddening Will’s ears.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Belle,” the woman said. “I’m Snow, a former maid at House Sherwood. And you must be Lord Killian Jones,” Snow said, gracing him with her warm smile. “I’m very happy to meet you as well.”

Killian nodded in respect, returning the polite greeting.

“Emma and Will have told us a lot about the two of you - all good things, I promise - so it’s only fair I tell you what role I play in the scheme of things,” Snow said. “I’m the one who initially asked Emma to infiltrate the noble court in order to help my fiancé.”

“Your fiancé?” Killian asked, wondering if the man would be present this evening as well.

“Yes. And I’m afraid things could go terribly wrong if his identity is revealed to the wrong people, which is why Emma and Will have been so cautious. But I’m sure our trust in you isn’t misplaced.” Snow could have made the statement sound questioning or even threatening, but her words were nothing but genuine.

“And I’m sure that with all of this secrecy, you may as well already have guessed who he is,” Emma said, wryly.

“Aye, well, I have an idea,” Killian admitted.

“And do I live up to that idea?” In the doorway stood a man with longer hair than Killian had imagined, but it was the same shade of blonde, and though there was a bit more stubble than he remembered from seven years ago, the face was the same.

“Prince David,” Killian greeted, bowing his head.

“Well, exiled prince anyway,” David said. “Though I don’t mind the gesture.”

Killian heard a faint snort come from Emma.

“So the rumours of your return were true after all,” Belle said. While Killian was sure she had had an idea that she was about to meet Prince David, she sounded more awed than he’d expected. Then again, Belle hadn’t met any of the royal family before - only the book-enthusiastic nobles such as himself.

“Yes. Although the reasons for my return seem to have drifted away from the truth in most of the retellings.”

“Not here to place dung-beetles from Agrabah under the pillows of all who wronged you?” Killian asked humorously. He’d enjoyed hearing that one.

“Not all, at least,” David said. But there was only a slight hint of amusement in his tone as he stood there with crossed arms. Or perhaps Killian just wanted to think there was some amusement there.

“Right, well, moving on from the topic of dung-beetles, I think supper is just about ready,” Robin said, clapping Killian on the shoulder before heading through the door from which he’d come. Killian assumed the clap was another way of saying ‘good luck’.

Snow went to help Robin, but David made no move to go anywhere, still surveying Killian with his arms crossed. Killian allowed himself to survey the exiled prince in return.

Emma looked between the two, unsure of what to do or say. Thankfully, Will decided to break the silence by clearing his throat in a very non-subtle manner. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’ll be heading in the direction of the food.”

Taking Belle’s hand like the gentleman Snow said he could be, Will led her to the dining room. David made to follow them, but he didn’t seem keen on leaving Killian and Emma alone with each other. While Killian wanted nothing more than a moment alone with her - a chance to tell her how stunning she looked, or perhaps lay that kiss on her cheek (or her lips) - he thought it best to humour David, who, apparently, didn’t seem to like him all that much.

----------

Emma didn’t know her parents, and had never really known what a family was either. She’d been a part of a few thieving crews, but had never stuck around for long. The crews she had found had just never been worth staying for; getting attached was not something Emma made a habit of.

But the crew she had found in David, Snow, Robin and Will - and Ruby, too - was special. She couldn’t see herself leaving them behind easily. And when Killian entered the townhouse, she couldn’t help but feel like she was introducing him to her family.

David certainly took the role of disapproving father to heart.

Killian complimented the townhouse, and Snow informed him it was owned by her godmother Johanna, while she brought in a pot of stew. She apologized for the simplicity of the meal, explaining that their funds were small, and they had greater priorities than rich food.

“Nonsense, Lady Snow, it smells heavenly,” Killian said, and Belle agreed. Both offered to help with any last-minute things, but Snow waved them off, telling them to sit.

Emma took her seat next to Killian’s, wishing they could have had a moment to themselves. The awkward greeting in the foyer just hadn’t felt like a real ‘hello’.

Robin came in with a warm, sliced loaf of bread and a flagon of wine. He set both down on the centre of the table before taking his own seat. At the townhouse, they were all equals. Despite previous or false titles, none waited on others, but everyone helped each other.

Snow offered Belle the first serving, and soon everyone was eating, but unanswered questions lingered in the air, making for a strained meal. Emma took a few heavy gulps of wine, hoping to calm her nerves.

Finally, Killian said, “I presume I know the answer, but perhaps someone could clarify the reason you’re all in Misthaven, infiltrating the court no less?”

And so they all began explaining.

----------

“George’s illness has been a complete coincidence - whether fortunate or unfortunate, we don’t yet know,” David said at last.

Emma looked at Killian and Belle. Neither of them looked like they were about to bolt from the table, and she supposed that was a good sign. Still, she was well aware of how crazy their plan sounded. And it wasn’t much of a plan anymore - at least not a detailed one.

“It’s causing agitation amongst everyone, for sure,” Killian commented.

“About that - have you learned anything from the assassin?” Emma asked.

“He hasn’t been very forthcoming as of yet.” Killian’s grip on his spoon tightened, and Emma could only imagine what it might feel like, knowing someone out there had paid to have him killed. It certainly angered her to the point that she’d gladly knock the assassin around a bit more until he started speaking. “After a few days without food and water, however, he might reconsider his loyalties.”

“Isn’t there a way to get him talking faster?” Emma asked, unsure if they had time to wait around for a few days.

“Aside from physical torture or bribery?”

“Well, if you offered a large enough sum, and he refuses to speak, we’d know that his emplyer is either rich enough to offer more, or powerful enough to frighten him into silence,” Snow said.

“Which would likely mean Cora or Gold.”

Emma sensed those two were already high on Killian’s list of suspects.

“I still wonder what anyone would gain from your death - and what Zelena had to gain from informing Emma about it,” David said.

“Why, David, I’m flattered you think no one would prosper from my death.” Killian sat up a bit straighter, smiling widely at David.

“Don’t push it.”

“A rival of House Jones would gain from having your father rattled and without a direct heir, just as the decision of the regent is to be made,” Robin said, answering David’s former question.

“While my father has always been interested in wealth, he’s never been much for power though. I’m not sure he’d even want to be king regent.”

“Fear is still a powerful tool,” David said. “Having an important noble figure murdered would cause panic amongst the nobility, and whoever manages to calm everyone down would be favoured in an election.”

Emma couldn’t imagine anyone being better at calming down a crowd than David. Cora and Gold would only unsettle her further. Unfortunately, it wasn’t likely that everyone amongst the nobility thought so.

She finished the last of her bread, having absent-mindedly torn it into small pieces during the conversation. She wasn’t one to waste crumbs like that normally.

Snow noted that everyone had finished eating, suggesting they move to the drawing room. A pot of tea - and a few cups of hot chocolate - couldn’t hurt anybody.

Once seated in the comfortable couches, Emma in the same armchair as always, though now with Killian sitting in the one next to it, the conversation turned to the future. They still needed to figure out how David could make his appeal to the nobles, after all. At least without being seized by guards first.

“So far we’ve just been focused on sorting out allies and foes,” David said. “But it seems the time for playing it safe is over.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the way he glowered at Killian from behind his cup of chocolate.

Killian seemed to notice the snide of David’s remark as well. After all, it wasn’t the first of its type that David had thrown his way.

“I’m sorry, mate, but what is it I’ve done to cause you to have such little faith in me?” Killian finally asked, the question having weighed him down since the first scowl he’d been treated to.

David didn’t even need time to think about how to answer. “You’re a young man with a reputation for trouble - drinking, lacking propriety and flirting with every girl you see. The passions of young nobles like you can change as quickly as you can turn your heads; so in short, mate, you’re unreliable.”

“David!” Snow admonished.

“No, it’s alright,” Killian told her, although David’s words had a way of making him feel like shit. They were true after all. But only partly. “He’s just speaking his mind. And I know that’s what people tend to think of me, but they also tend to forget that losing your brother - your hero - is something only alcohol seems to remedy. And that my lack of propriety is a lack of interest in the small things nobles find so important. I’m bloody well spending my time at balls reading books on politics, discussing ideals with my mates, ideals you seem to believe in! And I’ve never felt the way I do about Emma, and I value the trust she’s put in me more than anything else, but sure, I can see why you’d think me unreliable.”

The cup in his hands was ready to break under the pressure of his grip by the end, and Killian had no clue where those words had come from. They’d just spilled out. And while he wished he could take them back, that he could have kept his temper in check, he felt a sense of relief at having let it out.

Surprise washed over David’s features, giving way to something that looked like guilt. “I’m sorry, Killian. Captain Liam Jones was a good man - and no doubt an equally great brother.”

The fact that David knew - and remembered - Liam’s preference for being called Captain rather than Lord, touched Killian in a way he never would have expected.

“Aye, he was the best man I’ve ever known. And he always believed that you would make a great king someday. As do I.”

David took his words for what they were - honesty. “And I’m sure you’ll do your best to help me make it there.”

“I will.”

----------

The evening had grown late, and everyone was tired after the hours of conversation. Inviting Killian and Belle over had been worth it though, especially after an understanding formed between David and Killian. Emma kept replaying Killian’s words in her mind, the emotions so clear on his face as he spoke. There was nothing but honesty there.

“You know I feel the same, right?” Emma asked. She’d pulled Killian aside, leading him into her bedroom for a moment alone to say goodbye. “That this... it’s so different from anything else I’ve ever felt. Good different. It’s like...”

She trailed off, incapable of describing it. Killian probably could. Growing up as a gentleman and reading all those books gave him a language like no other, but this time, she didn’t give him a chance to use it.

She just leaned forward and kissed him.

Emma doubted she’d ever tire of kissing Killian. And it wasn’t lost on her that once again, there was a bed right next to them. Her bed.

Killian was the one to pull away, but he kept his forehead against hers, his nose still right next to hers. “I probably shouldn’t push my luck too far with David by staying in here for too long.”

Emma laughed. “No, I’d rather not have to see him drag you out of here and throw you on the curb.”

But both of them were a bit too weak, leaning in for one more chaste kiss.

This time when they pulled away, Emma made sure to take a small step back, just to limit the temptation (as if that were truly possible). Killian seemed to notice something over her shoulder and he nodded towards it.

“Are those the paints I sent you?”

Although she knew the answer, reflex had her looking over her shoulder to see the paints lying on her desk. “Yeah. I never got to thank you for them - it was a very sweet thought.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Killian said, a hand going up to scratch a spot behind his ear. “But I suppose you might not paint that much after all.”

A smile got the better of her lips at his understanding. “No, I’m afraid that was one of the lies I had to tell. I didn’t really think scouring for food or shelter, or climbing buildings was a good answer for a lady.”

Killian smiled as well. “No, perhaps not. But I’d love to hear the real stories someday. Anything you’d wish to share.”

“Perhaps I should tell you the story of what really happened when I was away for those two weeks.”

Killian quirked an eyebrow.

“Some other time,” she said with a slight roll of her eyes, trying to turn him back towards the door.

“Swan, you can’t send me away with a mystery such as that!” he pouted, doing his best to sound as dramatic as possible.

Emma laughed. “I can and I will. Now hurry before David comes and throws you out.”

Killian gave her his best puppy dog face. And she had to admit, it was rather good. “How about instead, you show me your work? I see you’ve opened the paints.”

Emma’s face reddened at the thought of the painting hidden in her wardrobe. “I didn’t paint anything,” she lied. “I just opened them for fun.”

Killian saw right through her. “A really quick glimpse?”

“I threw it away.”

He just kept looking at her, and Emma knew he wasn’t likely to let it go. Maybe a kiss could distract him... but it was bound to distract her as well.

“Fine. But promise me you won’t laugh.”

“I swear on everything I hold dear,” Killian said. Emma shook her head at his antics, turning to find the painting in the wardrobe.

“Here - just a quick glimpse.”

The puzzled look on his face wasn’t really something she could blame him for.

“It’s lovely... a flower, right?”

Emma sighed. “A swan actually.”

“Oh... oh yeah, I can see-”

“Just shut up and go,” Emma said, rolling her eyes at him. He was sweet - too damned sweet.

He stepped over to give her one last kiss. Leaving her with every nerve buzzing and her knees weak, he looked just about as wrecked as she felt.

“As you wish.”

----------

With Killian as a part of the team now, Emma felt lighter than she had in weeks. Possibly her entire life. She’d didn’t sleep easier though, her head too full of thoughts. Thoughts of Killian, of the plan and the assassin starving in the cells of Keep Jones.

Still, just knowing that she’d be seeing Killian again soon - without pretences of a ball - brought a smile to her face at any moment.

And that’s when she knew she had to be careful.

Good things just didn’t happen to Emma. Her own parents didn’t want to keep her, and since then, it seemed no one in the world wanted to. She had spent years doubting that Granny and Ruby actually wanted her around, and when she’d finally come to believe it, Granny had died. Thieving crews had come and gone, people, opportunities... nothing ever stuck.

Who was to say the bonds she’d made the past few months were stronger than her bad luck?

Two evenings after Killian’s initial meeting with David’s crew, they had planned for Killian to bring over Thomas, Phillip and Eric. Killian was sure they’d support David. He wouldn’t have suggested letting them in on the plan if he wasn’t.

First though, he had to explain things on his own, as regretfully, they all still believed Emma to be a spy for someone less agreeable.

Six hours before the young lords were meant to arrive, Emma was putting on her boots, ready for lunch at The Red Wolf. When Ruby had heard there’d been a dinner with Killian, but without her, she hadn’t been too happy. Words like “betrayal” had been thrown around. No matter that she’d been too busy running the tavern anyways. But now, on top of making sure she’d be able to dine with them in the evening, Emma thought a lunchtime visit was a nice consolation.

She never made it out of the door though.

Snow came barging in, looking all for the world like she’d been chased by a ghost. Upon seeing Emma, she stopped to catch her breath. “Good. You’re still here.”

“Yes?” Emma’s gut twisted. “Is everything alright?”

“Is everyone else here, too?” Snow asked before having time to even register Emma’s question.

Emma nodded. “In the drawing room. Snow, what’s -”

But Snow had already left for the drawing room, and Emma sensed she’d get her answers if she followed. From the look on Snow’s face, however, she was sure that things definitely weren’t alright.

She hadn’t made it past the doorway before Snow spoke to all of them.

“King George is dead.”

  ----------

  King George is dead. The words echoed in Killian’s head and all around him, as no one talked about anything else. Servants whispered in the halls and the guards exchanged concerns for the future.

The king was dead, and there was no one to replace him.

Just two days ago, Killian had been sitting in a townhouse, trying to make plans for Prince David’s appearance at the council meeting. The meeting that would determine the future of the land. But now, the meeting had never been held, and people were already panicking.

Which, of course, was the perfect opportunity for Lord Gold.

Killian sent word for his friends as quickly as possible. There was no time to wait for dinner plans - they had to make real plans, important plans, and they had to do it before Gold managed to convince everyone that a quick vote with himself as the winner was the best course of action.

Killian would rather die than see that crocodile on the throne.

With the prince’s permission, Killian had told his friends about David and his hopes to take the throne - and Emma’s part in it all. All three of them had apologized. Especially Eric had been rather guilt-stricken. Killian wouldn’t deny that he took pleasure in seeing his friends so regretful, be he knew holding grudges against his best friends would be a terrible mistake. They had only been trying to look out for him after all.

And now, together, all of them would try to look out for the future of the country. They had the chance to turn George’s death into something truly good - a future where the land could prosper, where the people were given choices and support. A future where less people had to live the way Emma did.

They gathered in the townhouse, the drawing room soon becoming terribly crowded with nobles and commoners, all united in one goal. Killian sent word for his friends amongst the knights and the guard; Phillip, Thomas and Eric did the same. They sent for Aurora and Ella, the young lady Grace and her father, Lord Jefferson, as well. Ruby and her barmaids did everything they could to spread word amongst the people, to walk the streets and shout for King David.

There was so much to do, so much uncertainty and danger to face, and so little time.

But surrounded by friends and strangers who wanted nothing more than the good of the people, Killian had to believe it would work. He was a born pessimist, so perhaps Snow’s speeches were getting to him, or perhaps it was having Emma at his side that made him feel invincible. It mattered not. The only thing that mattered was that David succeeded.

[otomechuchu]

HuneX double points apology

HuneX has now fixed the problem with some players not getting free points. As an apology/compensation we are now getting a x2 points campaing till July 10 2017.

[fishylife]

spoilers for ep 17 of the rise of phoenixes

just my thoughts on stuff that happened

The story was stagnant for a little while leading up to the Crown Prince killing the fifth prince, and Feng Zhiwei finding her footing at the academy. But the story is back up to speed in this episode.

I like that Zhao Yuan, the steward of the emperor, is exerting a little bit of his own power and influence. In Nirvana in Fire, the steward to the emperor was a good guy, but he didn’t exert that much power (because he wasn’t that kind of guy). But Zhao Yuan here is taking a stance. I don’t know if I’m reading his actions correctly but it’s clear that at the very least, he came to his own conclusions about how the ring from the Crown Prince was supposed to slowly poison Ning Yi to death.

Ning Chuan decided to take the offensive and go straight to the emperor when he realized that Ning Yi probably knew what he was up to. Zhao Yuan popped in while Ning Chuan was in the middle of his offensive. My guess is that Ning Chuan was going to push the blame on to Ning Yi. However, Zhao Yuan was there when Ning Yi had received the gift from the Crown Prince, and Ning Yi had immediately gifted it to him, seeing as how he liked the ring so much. So if Ning Chuan lied about anything, Zhao Yuan could challenge it. While Ning Chuan is the emperor’s son, the emperor is already super suspicious of him, and it’s likely the the emperor would trust Zhao Yuan over the Crown Prince. In addition, Zhao Yuan and Ning Yi have struck up a good relationship. While they keep secrets from each other, I do think they are on the same wavelength at the very least.

When Ning Chuan and Ning Yi were together, Zhao Yuan greeted them both, and put on the ring as he was speaking to them. Now that action, I’m still not 100% sure about. I’m not sure whether he’s telling the Crown Prince to watch out because he’s onto him, or another reason.

Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei’s stories also became more connected this story, which is probably why I found this episode quite interesting.

Through the princess and the head groom, Ning Chuan found out that Wei Zhi has discovered that the grooms are assassins working for the Crown Prince. Of course, the Crown Prince gave orders to them to kill Wei Zhi. However, the young groom whom Feng Zhiwei had helped earlier really appreciated what she did for him, and decided that he would repay her. The young groom told his father that he no longer wanted to live in the shadow under the control of someone else. To be honest, I thought this came a bit out of nowhere, because we weren’t really given any clear signs that the young groom hated the assassin life. He’d only told Wei Zhi that she had to keep quiet or else she could die. I think it might be more likely that the young groom wanted to help Wei Zhi (because he probably never really had any personal friends), and him wanting out of the assassin life came second. In any case, the young groom died in the chaos of the assassins trying to get to Wei Zhi :(

I wish the groom didn’t die, but I guess it served as a link between Feng Zhiwei and the old groom (the young groom’s father). The conversation between the two of them was intriguing. When Feng Zhiwei came to terms with the idea of dying there, she started thinking of her mother and got emotional. Feng Zhiwei hadn’t thought of her family for a while (since she was focused on surviving), but you tell the exact moment she thought of her mother and wanted to cry. We all have moments when we think of our parents and want to cry, and I really felt the exact moment she teared up.

On the groom’s side, he recognized Qiu Mingying and Zong Chen. However, upon recognizing their names, he decided he’d kill Feng Zhiwei. (Of course, this will change, but as most of the episodes do, this one ended on a cliffhanger) It makes sense that the groom would be on the opposite side of Qiu Mingying and Zong Chen. I would assume that he’s been working for the Crown Prince for at least 18 years, since the dynasty was overturned. But I wonder if he will later on have a change of heart and decide to help Feng Zhiwei because of what she meant to his son.

Feng Zhiwei galloped all the way to Lanxiang House to get help from Zhu Yin. I’m a little surprised that she went there instead of Chu Wang Manor, but I guess it makes sense because Zhu Yin is a lot more accessible than a prince.

Zhu Yin also died in this episode. I really didn’t see this coming. Zhu Yin was a valuable part of Chu Wang’s information network, and I had assumed that they were going to get to the bottom of everything together. She tried to distract Duke Chang from finding Feng Zhiwei. But along the way, she saw an opportunity to seek revenge and decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately, she couldn’t, and was killed in return. Zhu Yin told Duke Chang her father’s name, but he didn’t recognize it. In any case, she told him that he’d gone down because of the treason case 8 years ago. I guess Duke Chang realized that she’d actively work against him and he didn’t see any harm in taking her out to prevent any further obstacles down the road. I liked her character though, and I’m sad that Zhu Yin died :(

Xin Ziyan found Gu Nanyi, presumably in the stables. Gu Nanyi was super skeptical because he wasn’t hired by Ning Yi or any of the royals, but eventually realized that Xin Ziyan was probably trying to help Feng Zhiwei. They tried to brainstorm where Feng Zhiwei could be, and guessed that the young groom had probably saved her. He didn’t, but technically Feng Zhiwei was still in the grooms’ hands.

I liked this episode because I think the #squad is starting to come together a little more. Before, the squad was pretty much just Ning Yi, Xin Ziyan, and Zhu Yin. Feng Zhiwei was still just a pawn.

As a side note, I don’t know if Xin Ziyan is for real or not, but he kept trying to assure Ning Yi that Feng Zhiwei was just a pawn. I don’t know if he truly believes that, or if he’s trying to get Ning Yi to realize that he likes her. I hope it’s the latter. 

Feng Zhiwei has gotten herself more stuck in court politics (first with the fifth prince, and now with the Crown Prince’s assassins). This time, Ning Yi really feels that she’s in true danger, and he’s going to do what he can to help her. After they get over this obstacle, I think that Ning Yi will try to keep a tighter leash on Feng Zhiwei. Not in that he’s going to imprison her or something, but I think he might start to ask her to do some real spy work for him (also as an excuse to see her more). All this is to say that Feng Zhiwei is probably going to become part of the squad officially lol.

I think the fact that Gu Nanyi and Xin Ziyan met without Feng Zhiwei as a mediator probably means that Gu Nanyi will end up helping Chu Wang, but he’ll do it begrudgingly because Feng Zhiwei asked him to or something like that.

In this episode, Ning Cheng caught Steward Wu eavesdropping on Ning Yi when Ning Yi was asking his subordinates to bring Feng Zhiwei (the little leopard) back to his Manor. We all know that the Stewards that were assigned by the Emperor were eavesdropping. After all, why else would the Emperor do such a thing. Ning Yi chose to forgo any punishment on the Steward though. I think by doing this, Ning Yi is trying to get into the Steward’s good books, and when he reports back to the Emperor, he’ll only have nice things to say. Something like that. Or, he’s trying to get the Steward to be a double agent (without him knowing), and a means through which he can get more information about the Emperor.

Right at the beginning of the episode, Ning Chuan forbade Duke Chang (his uncle) from saying any treasonous things about killing his father the emperor. Then Duke Chang laughed and said it was just a joke. This is incredibly suspect. As Ning Chuan had said before, the second prince is also Duke Chang’s nephew, so the Duke has more than one way of becoming the Emperor’s uncle. I don’t think this a direct sign of anything in particular, but the trust that was already suspect between Ning Chuan and Duke Chang is probably going to erode more throughout the show.

I don’t think that Ning Chuan is a super smart guy, but he is very conniving. I think that he thinks that that’s the only way to survive in the court. His sister also thinks that in order to survive, one must play dirty and be cold-hearted. On the other hand, we see Ning Yi who is pretty kind to most people around him. I like that in this story of court politics, we get to see the kind and nice people rise to the top rather than those who plot and murder.

I’m still puzzled about the emperor and Ning Yi being ill at the same time. Was it a “curse?” If so, there should probably still be a technical reason for it, right? In this case, it was probably that Zhao Yuan was making the emperor’s tea while wearing the poisoned ring, and also that Ning Chuan kept sending tea to Ning Yi which was probably laced. But was there evidence of Ning Yi and the emperor getting sick at the same time in the past? I wonder if this might have something to do with Ning Yi’s mother too, who died when he was young.

Ok, I think that’s all I got for now.