#DEFINITE improper use of a cane

[kc5rings]

If you're doing the sticker prompts I rolled 1 for Nian

I more intended it as a game for folks who want a prompt for themselves for art or fic, but luck is on your side because I happened to be thinking about Nian already this morning after seeing some metal gear that made me insane

(Not taking any other prompts at the moment but the game is here if anyone wants to use it for themselves)

Under the cut: Chastity, heat reference, improper use of medical equipment, improper definitions of medical equipment, Nian Gets Trolled.png

“I should have figured when Hibiscus messaged me to come drag you out of medical that it would be something ridiculous like this.”

Nian crossed her arms, grinning and unrepentant, as ever immune to Lava’s scathing reprimands.

“All I’m saying, is you’d think an open minded medical facility like Rhodes Island would be a little more receptive to a holistic, non medication approach to a very common medical concern for many of its op-“

Lava cut into Nian’s speech before she wound herself up into full pitch mode, leaning heavily on her cane with one hand while gesturing vaguely at what Nian was wearing.

“Is that what we’re calling….. all this then?”

Far from being deterred Nian’s grin only widened as she did a little turn to make sure Lava got a good look, which she happily did, taking a moment to appreciate forge hewn muscle before sighing and taking in Nian’s “outfit”

Her regular clothing had been discarded the moment Lava had shut the door to her quarters, Nian having been in a hurry to show off her latest project. Across her chest was a tight band of steel, with a cup covering the entirety of each breast. Continuing down from there revealed a steel waist corset cinched reasonably tight, though Lava couldn’t begin to imagine how that was accomplished with metal.

Finally, there was the belt.

Just a bit below the edge of the corset sat the waist band of what could only be described as what it was, a chastity belt. Perfectly shaped to fit the lines of Nian’s body, with a ring in the waistband to settle at the thick base of Nian’s tail, a sturdy, contoured, front shield and capped off by a pair of wide metal bands on her thighs. As with the rest of the ensemble it was all secured with ornate locks and polished to a near mirror shine.

Lava pinched the bridge of her nose

“Nian, this is obviously fetishwe-“

“Medical aids, Lil Lava, please”

“Not calling it that.”

Despite her curt tone Lava knew this was a losing battle, once Nian had a concept she wanted to talk about she refused to let it go until someone heard her out and that someone was usually Lava

“Fine. I’ll bite.”

“Promise?”

“Just make your pitch Nian. How is any of this possibly medical?”

Lava could swear she saw a literal flame in Nian’s eye for a moment before Nian gave her an overly dramatic bow, setting the many locks adorning her accessories jingling

“It’d be my pleasure. Ya see I’ve done my research and found that a sizable number of Terran species experience heat, now heat is the common term for-“

“I know what heat is Nian, you know I do.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll skip ahead.”

Nian made a placating gesture and rolled on with her pitch, pointing to each relevant piece of gear as she went

“The cups on the top prevent contact with sensitive nipples even during rigorous activity or while laden with equipment, the front shield prevents contact that might worsen symptoms and splits at the back for comfort, the bands on the thighs and tail help keep everything in place and secure. Obviously it’s all padded, every measure had been taken to ensure both comfort and hygiene during long term wear while-“

“And the corset? What “medical” benefit is that providing��

Nian flashed her teeth again, despite her protests Lava was an excellent “yes and” partner when she felt like it, and now Nian had gotten her to play.

“Well you see.” Nian drew herself up to her full height, head and shoulders over Lava to the point she almost loomed.

“They are great for your posture.”

Lava rolled her eyes, sure that Nian was familiar enough with the movement that she’d recognize it even with Lava wearing her visor

“Right. Well putting aside the frankly astounding number of ethical problems with all of that, it still wouldn’t work here at Rhodes.”

Nian tilted her head, curious.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

It was Lava’s turn to grin, she knew she was playing Nian’s game now, no helping that. But they’d been at this for years and Lava had gotten very good at playing.

“Haven’t you ever seen the combat logs of some of our operators once they get riled up in a fight? That pretty belt of yours wouldn’t last a second against someone like operator Horn in heat, no chance in hell”

“Lil Lava you wound me! In my pride as an artisan no less.” Using her tail Nian fished something out of her pile of discarded clothes and with a flick, sent something through the air at Lava. “Catch.”

Lava snatched the object with one hand before taking a moment to look it over. “Key” would be an accurate description but a very reductive one, the body of the key was cylindrical, with the teeth numbering in the dozens all around its circumference. Stranger though, was the fact that as Lava stared at the key it’s teeth became less defined and fuzzy, seeming to almost move.

“Give me fifty years and I *might* be able to produce that same exact key from memory, anybody who’s not me though? No chance.” Only Nian could make admitting she couldn’t do something in less than fifty years sound like a boast. “And that’s not all.”

Nian lifted one clawed finger up for Lava to see, the tip glowing forge hot after a moments concentration, and reached down to drag it up the front shield of the belt. Lava winced at the terrible screech and sparks the contact made, but when Nian finished her little display the belt hadn’t even lost its shine. “I built this piece as sturdy as I can make something, trust me when I say that without that exact key it’s not going anywhere.”

“….. Ok I’ll admit it, that’s pretty impressive.” Lava had seen Nian shape ingots by hand and shear chunks off of them with those same claws, that belt really was something else.

Lava pocketed the key.

From the same pocket she’d stored the key in Lava produced a small injection gun, with casual ease she reached out and pressed it against the exposed skin of Nian’s hip, right in the gap between the bottom of the corset and the top of the belt and pulled the trigger.

Nian, for her part, made no move to stop Lava and barely reacted to the injection. Lava had the basic medical training afforded to all higher level Rhodes Island operators and had long since become adept in administering her own meds so Nian hardly felt a thing.

Aside from a sudden burning curiosity.

“What was-“

“Highly concentrated heat inducer.” Lava let the now empty injector clatter onto a nearby table. “Gavial slipped it to me when I was coming to get you, mentioned something about how she owed you a prize after handing her a string of losses and that because you never had a proper physical she had to take a “Gavial Guess” at the dosage.”

Lava took advantage of a rare moment of stunned Nian silence to close the gap between them. “You’re so sure this stuff is a good answer to heat? Fine, but you’re doing the testing. Be sure to record your findings while I’m gone.”

Lava allowed herself a smile only after turning away from Nian’s dumbfounded expression, trying to process what had just happened. Only the last word of “gone” snapped her out of it. “Wait, what do mean by “gone” Lil Lava?”

Lava tossed a hand up in farewell as she headed out the door. “Oh didn’t I mention? I’m leading an away mission of new recruits later today, shouldn’t be gone more than three weeks, probably.”

With that, Lava turned down the hallway, the staccato rhythm of her cane on metal flooring slowly growing distant. Leaving Nian reeling.

“Ok Lil Lava I get it, you got me fair and square this time, you can come back now!” The only answer Nian received was a sudden involuntary muscle clench, a spike in temperature and sweat slowly beading on her brow.

“L-Lava?!”

[yanderelmk]

Hii! Could you pick a yandere to ship with me? I go by she/they, am roughly 5'5, have light, reddish brown hair and blue eyes with hazelish rings around the pupils. My sun sign is Gemini and my moon and rising are Pisces. I love creepy-cute aesthetics, as well as Victorian aesthetics. I'm more introverted, but can open up quickly if someone mentions something I love. I've become a bit disillusioned with life, but I try to be optimistic and will comfort others to the best of my ability. I enjoy a lot of artistic hobbies like writing, drawing, and singing, and also love learning about mythology and animals. I like romance in fiction, but I think IRL, a QPR would be more my speed.

GAH YOU SOUND SO LOVELY!!! Worthy to be picked up and spun around!! ALSO ZODIACS??? 👁️👁️ (I'm a Wiccan who deeply loves studying star charts and astrology,,,) Y'know I'm gonna start using the tag #lmk yandere matchmaker for these, just me pairing up OCs & peeps :3 Creepy-cute Victorian aesthetic? Might I introduce you to those creepy Victorian dolls that wear just the most darling little outfits? Anyway anyway- My pick for you: The Mayor. He could fulfill all of your creepy aesthetic needs while oddly being the cutest goddamn thing in the world. Holds a bouquet of flowers for you with the creepy smile and head-tilt. "I could not help but think of you the moment I saw these!" Also probably would write you romance poetry in the Victorian fashion! Also would follow the old courting rituals. Hears someone talking shit about you and goes "It is very unbecoming to speak thus of a lady." before gollywhoppin' 'em He's such a gentleman in my mind to his darling. Picks you up the very second the minute hand reaches the time, has you home not a moment before sundown or a similarly improper hour. Man probably has those fancy handkerchiefs as well!! Also I really think he wouldn't look out of place in those old Victorian outfits, just a personal opinion. Top hat and cane and such. Pulls out your chair for you when you go to sit down,,, always offers you his arm,,, holds the door open for you,,, I can imagine he'd love to hear your singing, would definitely offer to duet and accompany you on the piano. He's gonna ask you to draw him then hang up the artwork in a picture frame in his office at City Hall. IMAGINING A REALLY SWEET ROMANTIC BOAT RIDELIKE IN THOSE OLD MOVIES!!!

[asqadia-banthen]

angry orchard beer is more tolerable imo- I had that before a different type of beer after being used to angry orchard and that different beer was ASS, eugh- I can't even describe how bad it tasted... probably along the lines of.... like if it was water from rotted tree bark- yeah that sounds close enough lol wine is decent, depending on what you like, it definitely goes down the hatch WAY easier than beer, which was how I found out that just drinking it down is "improper" (you're meant to sip along as you eat food), I think my family gets white wine as for more personal preference, I like getting candycane schnapps and putting it in hot cocoa, but I like to make my cocoa really chocolatey in the first place, it's easy to drink that too and I like how schnapps candycane tastes, I'd probably have it solo but I like mixing man, it's been a while, but white rum is pretty good for if you have a fruity type of soda you want to make alcoholic, I personally use faygo iirc the blueberry-razz flavor specifically a LOT of alcoholic drinks that I didn't list tend to have a weird "it's like I just drank how hand sanitizer smells" taste, so a lot of people just tolerate the ick to get drunk, but I like sweets so that's why I like those two mixes specifically ;-P

ooooo cool :D

that candy cane schnapps with hot cocoa sounds hella good (we obsessed with hot cocoa)

and yeahh, we’ve heard from a ton of ppl that a LOT of alcohol is just kinda ass ;-; but at least we have sum good recommendations ^^

thank you for sharing!! /gen

[sirduck48]

Sorry, I forgot to specify whether I wanted humanised or engine headcanons. I tend to leave it up to the user because some have more human headcanons than engine headcanons and vice versa. If I don't specify, then you can say whichever headcanons you'd like to.

I agree that Duck is curious about what's beyond the horizon. He definitely watches the sea and infodumps about it. I love the headcanon that Duck’s crew read stories to him, that's really sweet. He thoroughly enjoys them. I also like the idea of The Fat Controller having to separate Duck and Diesel. They just don't get on at all.

I think that the rivalry between James and Duck is more James than Duck when it comes to insults. Duck thinks that James is improper, far too vain and unreliable. However, Duck mainly ignores James, and only gives out insults in response to James' insults about him. James on the other hand, thinks that Duck is too fussy and old fashioned, talks too much, and is, as James says himself in Duck and the slip coaches, "an old fuddy-duddy". James takes any opportunity to insult Duck, from quacking whenever he appears to mocking his Great Western heritage.

I definitely agree with Duck being known as Duck due to his love of ducks. I think he is known as Duck for multiple reasons. One, because he loves ducks, two, because he waddles, three, because he "quacks on and on", four, because his hair flicks out at the ends, like a duck's feathers and like a male duck's tail feather, and five, because he flaps his hands when he is stimming, like a duck flapping their wings.

I have my own reasons for why Duck waddles, which can be seen in the "my opinion" tag (I can't quite remember which post it is, but it is definitely there). However, that is just my opinion, and your headcanon makes a lot of sense. I also agree that Duck uses a cane, and I mentioned it in the same aforementioned post.

I personally think that Duck can sing very well (and sings and hums as a vocal stim), and can find whistling distracting. He doesn't love it, but he doesn't hate it either.

All of these are my opinion. I do like your headcanons, they are very logical.

Hello, do you have any headcanons about Duck? He’s also my favourite and I really like hearing other people’s headcanons about him.

Hello, I'm sorry I took a bit of time to get back to this. Indeed I do. I'm breaking this into two categories, cause I wasn't sure if you wanted humanized headcanons or engine headcanons, so I gave you three of each! Well and a bonus shared headcanon, since I think of basically any Duck as autistic.

Engine:

-While Duck has realized his place is on Sodor, he's still curious about the world beyond the horizon. These days, he has his crew read to him from books when there's time (he'd read them himself, but he does not have hands and the books are a bit small for an engine).

-Diesel and Duck are now required to work separately ever since the incident. Well, more than one incident. Eventually Sir Topham Hatt got sick of dealing with the incidents between Duck and Diesel.

-James and Duck's rivalry has actually turned more friendly overtime. It started with some actual animosity, but now they're (mostly) joking around with each other.

Humanized:

-He got the nickname Duck as a child because of how much he liked ducks. He spent a lot of time watching them in the local park while growing up. He actually likes this nickname much better than the name Montague.

-He has a limp due to a work injury in his teens that never healed right. He occasionally uses a cane to help with mobility, but not always.

-Duck is not very good at singing, but he can carry a tune via whistling surprisingly well.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

About Last Night (Chapter 2) - Viktor x Reader (Explicit)

You were late. Again.

For the third week since you had spoken to him, you arrived about an hour late to Viktor's class. And like every week before, he barely threw a glance at the sound of the opening auditorium door, not even interrupting his lecture. You wondered if he even looked long enough to realize it was you.

You went to the far end of the room, as usual, settling down for two more hours of restless sleep. You had abandoned any attempt at focusing and taking notes while he was the one talking.

The past weeks had passed in a blur of disappointment and anger. Disappointment at him, for not even having the guts to look at you since he shut you down. Anger at yourself, for not being able to stop thinking about him.

The night after he told you off, you went to the club where you had met again. You thought you might find him there, make him jealous as you'd dance into someone else's arms.

But he wasn't there.

He didn't look like much of a party animal anyway.

You went back almost every day of the week, hoping to distract yourself. But no matter how many pretty women with golden eyes or tall lanky men with chestnut hair you found, none of them felt right. None of them were him.

"This is so stupid." you thought tiredly, listening to his accented voice trail on about robotics. Time passed impossibly slowly as you tried to focus on the lesson. You threw a glance at your front neighbor's notes: her pages were covered in drawings of angry little monkeys, scribbled in highlighter over her own writing. It seemed you weren't the only one who couldn't concentrate.

"Alright, we're done for today. Don't forget to come to the front to pick up your result from last week." Viktor finally said, gesturing to his desk where two enormous piles of copies rested, all visibly marked in red ink. You walked down the aisle, trying to catch his stare as you picked up your exam paper amidst the other students. He never glanced back. Somehow, his profile felt more emaciated than it had been when he'd been with you, bags resting under his eyes. You felt a pang of guilt at the thought that it might be your fault.

You looked at your copy with disinterest, shoving it in your bag with little ceremony. You almost walked out of the room when a voice unexpectedly called you back: "Miss ?"

You turned around in disbelief. For the first time in weeks, he was looking at you. Genuinely looking at you.

"It is commonplace to check your grade before throwing away your paper, no ?"

You replied, voice unsure. "I…guess so."

"If you had looked a little longer I believe you would have seen you did not pass this one. I'd like to talk about it more in my office."

"I��" you stuttered, surprised. "Sure ?"

Viktor nodded in approval and went back to handing out the rest of the exams without a second look, leaving you petrified in the middle of the doorway.

When all the students had walked out, he calmly picked his materials up and arranged them carefully in his bag. You stared at him, unsure what to do. He grabbed his cane and started walking out of the room; hesitantly, you followed.

The walk to his office was silent. You followed a few feet away from him, looking at his back anxiously. When you finally made it to his office, he gestured you to the chair and sat at his behind his desk, letting his cane lean against it.

"Let's see your paper."

You looked at him in disbelief. "That's why you called me here? For my paper ?"

He stared back as if you were the insane one: "Yes. Why else would I have I called you?"

"Because of this !" you gestured wildly between the two of you. "I thought you wanted to talk about us!" 

He looked to the side, eyebrows furrowing, biting his bottom lip: "I made myself clear, I think. I only called you here because I worried, as your teacher. Your grades are much lower than they used to be with Heimerdinger, and you seem to be sleeping through my classes. Have you been resting properly ?"

Some part of you rejoiced in satisfaction at the fact that he did indeed look at you during his lesson, but it was overshadowed by your frustration. "As a matter of fact, I haven't! You know why? Because I was at the club last night, trying to find someone better than you !"

You regretted your words as soon as you said them and watch the hurt on his face. But you had started this, and you would finish it. "But it's none of your business, is it, professor ?"

A heavy silence feel between the two of you; you could feel your heart beat in your chest.

"No," Viktor said, and something in his voice sounded bitter, full of regret. He slowly drew himself up, grabbing his cane with practiced ease. You realized that even with his slight hunch, he was still considerably taller than you. "I don't believe it is."

"Fine, then !" you spat out, bringing your face inches from his. "So what's your problem ?!"

"My problem," he began with visible annoyance, "is this."

And then he was kissing you.

You grabbed onto him angrily, teeth clashing against his. He tasted like coffee and flavor that was so unmistakably his it made you dizzy. You had missed him. You had only had him once, and yet somehow, you couldn't have stopped thinking about him since.

You bit his tongue fervently and he whimpered against you, his free hand tight against your waist, his cane's handle digging into your stomach. He pulled away for air, slightly red.

"Did you… let them touch you ?"

"Who ?" you said, slightly dazed.

"The people. At the club."

"No. I couldn't. I tried but… I couldn't."

He kissed you again, sweetly, and for a moment everything felt right in the world. You thought anything could come at the both of you and it wouldn't matter. As long as you had him.

Then, someone knocked at the door.

You both pulled apart in surprise. Horror drew on Viktor's face as he seemed to remember something he had forgotten. "Hide!" he hissed under his breath, shoving you in the direction of his desk. You quickly hid under it, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

"Ah! Jayce! What a… what a surprise!" You heard a man's feet step dangerously close as you tried to make yourself invisible. Jayce, you thought, Jayce… you knew that name from somewhere. 

"A surprise ? Viktor, you asked me to come by today."

Even his voice sounded familiar. But where had you heard it? 

"Yes, I do suppose I did." Viktor said as he sat back down on his work chair, lower body hidden by the desk. You could sense he was sweating profusely and you put a comforting hand on his thigh, trying to appease him. This seemed to have the opposite effect as his right leg started tremoring with anxiety, tapping the floor rhythmically.

"Maybe we could…reschedule? I'm a bit busy at the moment, Jayce."

Jayce Talis! you thought, mentally slapping yourself. Professor Talis had taken over Heimerdinger's second class since his accident; it made perfect sense for him to know Viktor.

By the awkward silence that followed, you assumed Talis wasn't buying his excuse. Well, you thought, Viktor is definitely not seeing me again after this. Better make it count. You slowly, carefully lowered his pants' zipper, feeling him instantly tense up.

"Busy ..? With what ?" Talis picked back up. "The prototype is in the lab. You left your notes there."

You gently brought his cock out of his boxers, noticing with a certain smugness he already wasn't entirely soft. You breathed against his tip and he made a strangled noise above you. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Fortunately, you seemed to have specialized in bad ideas over the last few weeks.

In one swift movement, you took him in your mouth, giving a hard suck.

"Busy with…with-ah!" 

"Viktor, are you ok?" You heard professor Talis come closer, and Viktor pushed his chair forward to hide you better in the desk's cavity, accidentally pushing himself down your throat. You almost choked, barely managing to stay silent.

"Your forehead is pretty warm. You might be coming down with something…" You could hear his concern and for a moment, you almost felt bad for making the poor man worry. Almost.

"Is it your leg again? Have you taken your med-"

"Yes, yes I'm fine." Viktor interrupted him curtly. You sucked along the thick vein that marked his cock and his hips gave an involuntary trust. You swirled your tongue around his tip, admiring the way his member bobbed on its own. You ran your fingers over his clothed thigh and his whole body shuddered, overwhelmed. But he did not stop you. Seeing this as a form of approval, you took more of him in your mouth, pleased at the way his hands were gripping the edge of the table. 

"I'm not an infant, Jayce. I would just really appreciate it if I could see you a-at another time."

"Alright…" Professor Talis finally conceded. "But promise me you'll rest up a little. You really don't look well."

Viktor's voice was exasperated, and he seemed almost ready to kick Talis out. "Yes, Jayce, I will, now will you just- will you just leave ?"

You felt both relief and disappointment as you heard the footsteps walk away from the desk, sad that this surprisingly pleasant situation had to end so soon and sure that you were about to get kicked out.

"We're going to talk about this, Viktor." 

"Alright, alright !"

The door finally closed. Viktor pushed his chair back to glare at you as you let his cock pop out of your mouth, gazing up at him innocently.

"Do you realize," he started, amber gaze burning it you, "what you have just done ?"

You hummed, nuzzling his thigh with your cheek. What did you have to lose?

"We could have been caught! We could have both lost our place here! Do you realize how much was a stake ?"

Your right hand toyed with his dick leisurely, thumb massaging the slit.

"If you want me to leave," you started, not breaking away from his angry stare, "I will. You just have to tell me to." 

Viktor looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, clearly debating. He was somehow very cute like this, frowning and pensive, as if a million calculations passed through his mind every second. Finally, he seemed to have chosen, gesturing for you to get out from your hiding spot.

"Get up. Against the desk, please."

Unwilling to let this opportunity slip away, you obeyed without questions, placing your back to him and your hands on the wooden desk. He delicately pushed your skirt down, toying with the hem of your panties before letting them fall. His long fingers caressed your ass appreciatively, and you arched into his touch, wanting to show just how much you wanted him. He let out a chuckle. "So impatient… Trust me, great discoveries come with a little patience."

You felt something cold and metallic slowly push against you, and you tensed in surprise. You eased yourself again and it slipped easily inside you, fitting snuggly once it was all in. You turned your head around trying to catch a glimpse of what it was, but Viktor shushed you, kissing your cheek and guiding your head forward again. "Don't worry. You're doing a great job."

Whatever it was, it was long and hard, angular and almost unpleasant. You took it without complaint, mind buzzing as you tried to figure out what it was. Then, as it started moving slowly, something came to mind.

"Viktor…Viktor, is that your cane ?"

You felt him smirk against your neck, and the object rapidly pumped out and back in, making you gasp. "You're such a smart girl. I knew you'd figure it out." He turned your head around gently with his free hand, letting you watch as he moved his cane's handle in and out of you. "You're the one who said it was more than a necessary evil," he smiled, "No?" 

You gasped as he twisted it inside you, hitting your sweet spot. "I…I did…"

You felt a finger slip in next to the handle, trusting alongside it. "Viktor…"

"You failed my exam and made me look foolish in front of my research partner. All in the span of one day, might I add. You're not doing much to get in my good graces."

You whined, trying to turn around to kiss him, but his hand pressed against your back in objection, keeping you in place. You knew he didnt have the physical strength to pin you there; yet something about him, an aura of sorts, made you want to obey all of his words without question. He hummed approvingly at your lack of movement, adding a second finger next to the handle.

"And yet somehow, my mind keeps coming back to you. No matter how hard I try, it won't stop thinking about you. In my class, in my lab, in my bed…"

Your hips worked in tandem with him as you felt a familiar pull in your lower stomach.

"Why am I always thinking of you ?" he asked, like he was speaking to himself. You came with a low mown, your knees buckling. The handle pulled out of you, and you turned around to find him looking at his cane with great interest.

"Hm," he acquiesced, wiping your juices off the handle with a handkerchief. "More than I expected." You felt your cheeks redden at that.

"How about you ?" you said, looking at the tent deforming his slacks. "You look like you need to be taken care of."

He shrugged: "No need. I have to find my partner and apologize to him. There are things we are working on that simply can't wait."

You looked in disappointment as he closed his zipper back up. "This," be declared, gesturing vaguely towards his crotch, "will be gone in a couple of minutes."

"So… do I leave ?"

"Yes, I suppose you do."

You felt yourself deflate, wondering if you had pushed him too far. He picked up his bag and headed towards the door, cane back in hand like nothing had happened. He stopped at the doorway, glancing back uncertainly.

"You know," he begun timidly, "I'm also in this office Friday nights. I do research work, no one comes by. I could…use some company."

You laughed; he made a moue, ears going red. Maybe you hadn't had such a bad idea after all.

"Then I'll see you Friday, Professor."

[crimsonrae]

Reckless Intent: Part Two

Summary: When the dance between Sherlock and Delia first began, learning the steps did not come smoothly. But then that would happen when affections haven’t been made clear and a murderer is on the loose.

SherlockXOFC

Rating: M

Warning: Some manhandling, allusions to nudity.

A/N: Set about ten years before the events in Enola. Sherlock has only been away from home for about three years. So this is more from Sherlock’s point of view and I had fun with this, because despite how intelligent he is, I think that he would still be lost to a woman’s way of thinking or reacting. Also there will be a part three. A culmination if you will of all my teasing : )

Reckless Intent: Part Two

It had taken more time than he would have liked to get the bestial efflux that had swarmed his blood to calm.  

Sherlock pulled a long-drawn breath through his nose as he silently counted the seconds until a certain menace in the shape of woman appeared by his side. Never had he met someone who could stir his anger so easily. She made him want to rage, to shake her until sense fell into that cob she called a mind. How she could incite him with just a few well-placed words was boggling.  

Yet, images of Delia on that stage danced before his eyes as he waited outside the club. The hint of cleavage through the feathers of her fan, the shapely curve of her thigh... Lust had seared his veins at the unexpected display of her womanly assets. His palms had itched with the need to cup her silky flesh, to leave his mark on her unblemished hide, and pull the most melodic notes of pleasure from her dainty throat. His manhood had hardened with a demand that only her tempting hole could satisfy.

And had they been alone?  

Had the ravenous stares and drunken jeering of the swine inside not been present... he would have taken her there on that staged. He would have answered her teasing seduction, shown her what happened when such a flag was waved before a bull.  

But they hadn’t been alone. He wasn’t the only one to gaze upon her bare flesh and that was unforgivable. Fury still spurned his veins, only the remembrance of their kiss tempered his lingering ire.

Sherlock bit back a groan as he tried to ignore the memory of the delightful contrast of her wired nest against her smooth skin and her heat... his fingers had been brushed by her desirous warmth, had felt the hint of her promising dewy depths. He marveled that he hadn’t sunk into her depths there and then. Her protest to his advances had been meek at best. There was no doubt in his mind that his Delia was a wanton... but she was his wanton. It was high time that he made his claim known.

He would not tolerate another incident such as this.

His fingers flexed and tightened over the head of his cane, releasing the frustrated bur that Delia so expertly pricked in him. It wouldn’t do to walk the streets with an erection like an adolescent boy. As if she knew his struggle, Delia appeared at his elbow only to add oil to his smoldering flame. Her frock covered little more of her chest than her stage attire.  

His nostrils flared with annoyance. Even her hair was still unrestrained, her curls falling loose about her shoulders, “That was longer than ten minutes.”

Delia arched a brow at him, unimpressed by his dour reproach, “Yet, you didn’t come back for me. You should be pleased.”

His glare was glacial, but she refused to simper –stubborn mule of a woman.  

Sherlock snatched her elbow before she had a chance to send another volley. The firm grip teetered on the edge of impropriety, but it was hardly the most improper act that either one of them had committed so far. He nudged her forward, refusing to speak further until they were away from this infernal club.

Luckily, Delia took the hint as she adjusted her arm in his grip and fell into step. It wasn’t lost on him that she had quickly masked the aggressive undertones of their current meeting. It no longer looked as if he were dragging an unruly woman through the street but had taken to escorting a potential paramour. Strangely, they fell somewhere in between the two paradigms.

They swept down the dimly lit streets with marked silence. He, still simmering, unwilling to vent his anger where it could be heard by the restless populace of London and she – he darted a glance to his companion – she was remarkably stoic. Her features serene as if nothing was amiss, but the darkened hue to her cheeks and the tense set to her jaw belied her discomfort... or perhaps her anticipation.  

Sherlock wasn’t sure which beset her and ignored the little voice in his ear that whispered it was the later. He had decided long before he had exited the club that his baser urges would be denied that night. Far more pressing concerns needed to be addressed before he conducted any further intimate explorations of her body.

As if she knew where his thoughts had led, Delia smirked dimly as he prodded her up the steps to his apartments. He wanted nothing more than to steal that smile from her face and it wasn’t until the door clicked firmly shut that he began his attack, “Have you lost your damn mind? Did you even for one minute think about what would happen to you in that place?”

“Sherlock -”

“No.” He continued as if he hadn't heard her, “You didn’t. You’re lucky I was there – that I even had an inkling to show up. Else wise you would’ve ended up like your friend or worse on your back -”

SMACK.

Fire laced up the side of his face as he felt the imprint of her palm reverberate through the bone of his cheek. Glowering he turned back to her and found Delia torn between shock at her actions and indignant.

Her breath came fast as she spat, “You are not my keeper, Sherlock Holmes. If you’re not going to discuss this case, say so now and I will take my leave.”

Sherlock smiled grimly, “Oh, I am taking the case, Delia. I’ve said as much already. And you’re right, I’m not your keeper. I’m far more than that and you will acknowledge it before the night is over.”

“How dare you!” Indignation seemed to have won out in his little menace as she hissed, “To make such assumptions based on one measly kiss... I would think such acts beneath you. Impervious king that you are.”

Volatile.  

Rash.  

Words that could be used to describe both of them in that moment, Sherlock noted distantly. He fought to keep a hold of his temper. He had pushed her tonight and she had already been walking a tightrope by going undercover in that club. He shouldn’t be surprised that the bewilderment and anger she had carefully kept under lock and key had been released now.  

However, he was sure that he had made his intentions clear long before his stolen kiss, in fact he was sure of it. A resounding crack echoed through the foyer, stunning both occupants as the head of Sherlock’s cane fell from its body. He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been gripping the implement or even that he was still holding it.  

He cast the ruin staff aside with a barely contained growl, “One measly kiss?”

He prowled forward like a stalking jaguar, “Is that what you think I based my assumptions on?”

Delia, to her credit, did not cower from him as she lifted her chin defiantly, “I think you saw naked flesh and responded as all men do.”

Again, Sherlock wondered if she could read minds. Hadn’t his thoughts dwelled upon her wicked display before she had arrived at his side? But she was very mistaken if she thought that his reaction was merely a result of her dance... No, his interest in Delia Woodson had started long before this night.

“Blue myosotis.”  

Delia blinked, her confusion apparent by his pointed delineation, “Pardon?”

“Blue myosotis.” Sherlock repeated definitively, “Or more commonly – forget-me-nots. You pinned them to my lapel three months, one week, and two days ago. After that murdered child was found by the docks. I was upset, but you...you were the only one to notice. You saw through the impassivity that I had carefully cultivated to keep myself detached.”  

He refused to use the word impervious.

His voice grew soft, “You pinned the flower to my lapel and said, ‘It’s a small token, Mr. Holmes, but colorful – bright. You need a little of that I think.’ I knew I loved you then.... and the flower you chose? More than appropriate for that realization. I doubt you knew but forgot-me-not's represent true love.”  

Stricken with shock, Delia could only gape at the unexpected confession, “I - Sherlock.”

“So, yes, Delia. I am far more than your keeper.” He continued stoutly, daring her to interrupt, to protest his words, “And not yet your lover, but that state will be rectified soon enough I’d wager. And no, our kiss had little to do with your irreverent show, though I do wish it had been under different circumstances, I don’t regret it.”

He could see her floundering. By not hiding from the truth, nor ignoring his earlier actions he had stripped bare any defensive armor she had managed to cobble together in their brief time apart. And he had finally acknowledge the elephant that he had been alluding to all night. He didn’t need to hear the words reciprocated – he knew she felt the same, though she hadn’t realized it until he had accosted her in that club. He had seen the moment she comprehended where her affections laid.

His hand came up to grasp her chin as he made sure that he fully held her attention, “And such antics will not occur ever again. I won’t stand for it and your bottom won’t sit for it, should you attempt such an act.”

Her eyes widened at his pointed threat, knowing he was serious her defiance flickered at him. Sherlock nearly grumbled. Why did he have to fall in love with the most obtuse woman on the bloody planet?

“This...” She drew a calming breath and laced her delicate fingers over the top his that still grasped her chin, “This is not talk of the case.”

Dull amusement laced through him at her poor deflection, but he took his cue and drew back a step, “I garnered several leads while you were performing. I’ll be able to more thoroughly investigate tomorrow. I haven’t forgotten about your Margaret.”  

“What leads?”

Sherlock shook his head in the face of her hungry interest. She had taken far too many risks as it were for this case, “No. You want me to take this case and investigate? Then my price is that you stay out of it.”

“But -”

“You were reckless tonight.” Sherlock vented, his anger rising back to the top. She hadn’t seen the men that had watched her – followed her, but he had. Not all of her audience had been lustful brigands. His little menace had made no secret of her inquiry into her friend’s death, “Purposefully, I’m certain.”

Her lip jutted out temptingly and he nearly cracked a smile in the face of her pout, “She’s my friend, Sherlock. Surely, I deserve to know – to help.”    

“You will stay out of it. That’s my price – take it or leave it, Delia.” He stated resoundingly, unwilling to budge on this point. He would fill her in once he had solved the crime and the murderer was being carted off by Scotland Yard, but not a second before that occurred.

Delia huffed as she dared ask, “And if I refuse and continue to investigate on my own?”

Sherlock stiffened at her challenge as he raised an unimpressed brow and smiled thinly, “Oh, I dare you to try. You won’t make it out that door, I can promise you that.”

“I have to leave some time; I don’t live here.” She muttered lowly, after all he only had just started his investigation.

“Yet.” Sherlock returned arrogantly as he stepped towards the stairs, “Mrs. Hudson!”

The shadow of his housekeeper appeared at the top of the stairs within seconds. He had no doubt that she had heard every word passed between himself and Delia, but ever discreet the matronly woman had waited until he beckoned. Draped in her robe and bonnet, he felt a stirring of guilt for having disturbed her slumber with his return, but even still as she blandly met his stare – he couldn’t help the mischievous spark that entered his mien.

“Please ready the guestroom. Miss. Woodson will be staying here tonight.” Loathe as he was to have her out of his sight, Sherlock knew they needed space. Too much had occurred in a sort time span and to be perfectly frank he needed a moment away from the weight of her presence. He needed to recoup.  

“That’s not necessary.” Delia started softly.

Sherlock barely contained a weary sigh, “It’s late and I’m not in the mood to escort you back to Hoxton.”

She blinked, bemusement once again piercing her features, “How did you know - ?”

Sherlock didn’t deign to answer. To say he wasn’t thrilled that she lived in such a horrid area was a vast understatement, but he had to admit that it was a step above White Chapel and far better than Old Nichol. Another situation he would soon need to rectify.

“I’ll have warm water brought to your room.” He said instead, “Rest. We’ll speak more in the morning when calmer heads prevail.”

Delia stared at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher but found that the calm he had just manage to reclaim was rapidly deteriorating. His heart lurched and the familiar itch to his palms returned as she stepped back into his sphere.

“Delia...”

“You followed me. You accosted me. Kissed me. Protected me. Took a case that is boring just to make me happy -”

“Keep you out of trouble -”

“Told me that you love me.” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken and soundly shut him up. 

Delia smiled then. A small smile, but so bright before she leant up on her toes and claimed a kiss so gentle that it stole his breath.

Unconsciously, his fingers latched into the folds of her gown as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. The supple swell of her lips felt like silk under the brush of his tongue. She tasted sweet, like honey and tea. She moaned lowly and a pleased growl rumbled through his chest at the sound.

They must have stood like that for only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.  

Delia, as tenderly as she had approached him, broke away again and started up the stairs. Sherlock could only watch after her dazed. 

She paused halfway up and glanced at him over her shoulder, “And you send me to the guestroom? You’re an odd man, Sherlock Holmes.”

She disappeared over the landing and Sherlock was left in stunned amusement. He had half a mind to go after her. Her teasing knew no bounds it seemed... but despite her words, he knew she was virginal, and he planned to take his time divesting her of that chaste state.

However, he should have known that Delia had no such patience...

Damn her.

Previous Chapter

[bella-caecilia]

Hey, so your latest edition to the settee chronicles made me need a fanfic from it 😂 so please may I request Violet sitting down on a settee only for it to mysteriously break and Cobert barely being able to contain a smile thank you xxxx love your stories so much 💕💕

Haha, so this refers to this post (x) and I finally wrote a fanfic about it. It is set somewhere s1-ish or slightly pre-series, idk. Thank you for the prompt, anon! I hope you enjoy it!! 

Revenge on Mama

The Dowager Countess was coming for tea and the family gathered in the drawing room. One by one they descended the large stairs. Cora was glad that everyone was present before her mother-in-law arrived. It was best to offer as little target as possible. The girls were already seated and engaged in light bickering. Mary leaned back on an armchair, rolling her eyes at Edith who told Sybil about some tragic novel she had read lately. Cora’s strict raise of her eyebrow made Mary rise from her lounging position and take on a straight posture. Robert and she were standing near the fireplace, talking in soft voices. Carson already advised the footmen to arrange the tea service on one of the tables. He left the room, no doubt to return with the Dowager Countess only minutes later. Cora used the opportunity of a moment without anyone’s attention on the two of them to whisper something to Robert.

“I enjoyed our encounter earlier. A lot, if I daresay,” she spoke in a hushed tone and leaned to him slightly. Robert’s eyes inevitably snapped to the vacant settee next to the armchair Mary sat in. He coughed quietly and didn’t dare to look at his wife’s face. He knew the badly suppressed smirk that definitely showed on it.

“Yes, so I gathered,” he replied wishing he’d have a drink at hand. He liked that kind of banter, but he couldn’t deal with it outside of their bedroom. Perhaps he should have kept the referred activities in the bedroom, therefore. But Cora had been very tempting and convincing today. He just couldn’t help himself against better knowledge.

It had been a highly risky undertaking but Cora had assured him, heavily breathing between fervent kisses, that it was unlikely for someone to enter the drawing room at this time of the day. The girls had been occupied and as long as Robert and she wouldn’t ring no servant would appear. Much more than her words, that came out in a staccato, it had been her wandering hands that had convinced him. The way her slender fingers found a way to his bare skin at his waist without undressing him completely had made it very hard to think clearly. Her fingers had crept underneath the waistband of his trousers, loosening an edge of his shirt and tracing the slit of exposed skin. The soft coolness of her fingertips had sent a shiver down his spine, and he had let go of the control over himself he’d desperately tried to hold on to until then. He had changed their positions, pressing her back with gentle firmness, until her back had hit the armrest of the settee they had reclined upon. The rest was history. Thrilling history.

The risks Robert hadn't calculated earlier the day, though, were Cora's cheeky comments on the incident. If she would keep talking about this it would be hard to stay calm and casual, and additionally, it would make his thoughts wander until the presence of other people in this room would become highly uncomfortable.

"I am glad we did it," Cora whispered and for a moment Robert forgot his intention to keep his eyes away from her. He turned his face to her and noticed the happy gleam in her blue eyes. "I was afraid you wouldn't approve of the audacity of this undertaking," she admitted. Now her pearly teeth sank into the plump flesh of her lower lip, and Robert tore his eyes from her as he had to gulp.

"It was rather daring," he spoke, his tone unaffected. "But you didn't really think I would reject you after your seducing arguments, did you?" He didn't hear an answer and turned to her again, taking in the pretty blush that was answer enough.

"The Dowager Countess," Carson's voice boomed into the room, much louder than Robert's and Cora's hushed conversation and interrupting the girls' bickering. The inserting silence was giving full attention to the confident and well-known click of the cane. With head held high, Violet strutted into the drawing room, directly approaching a seating with determination.

Even though, the old lady's eyes were fixating a point on the wallpaper they seemed to take in everything that was amiss instantly.

"Sybil! Knees together," she chided before lowering herself onto the settee next to Mary. Cora held her eyes locked on her mother-in-law as she sought a seat herself.

"Cora, I regret having to tell you this," Violet went on and Cora was sure Mama wasn't sorry at the least. "But Sybil is at an age where I shouldn't have to point out the proper behaviour for a young lady anymore. I can only assume it is a result of negligent breeding since Sybil is a rather good-natured girl." Mama cocked her head, sending Cora an inquiring look.

Did she really expect a response to this?

Cora briefly watched Sybil who had adopted the demanded posture immediately and directed her gaze at her lap now, uncomfortable with the chiding of both, herself and her mother. Cora was particularly irked by Mama's statement today because there hadn't been much wrong with Sybil's pose. Yes, she could have sat more sideways automatically locking her knees with that, but her behaviour hadn't been improper or common. Mama's reprimand was wilful and only serving the cause to degrade Cora in her aptitude as Countess and mother, or more fundamentally as a proper English lady herself.

The momentary irritation with Mama served to distract her attention from what she had actually noticed seconds before. But when Mama shifted in her seat slightly Cora remembered. Mama had sat down on the settee, which had witnessed other activities - much more improper than what she was rebuking - hours before. It hadn't been slow and gentle lovemaking on this settee. No, Robert had taken her impatiently and frantically, and Cora had already known, when her legs had clutched his hips, that a new sofa was due soon.

And now Violet sat on that particular settee, not finding a comfortable position and constantly shuffling in her seat. Cora didn't answer Mama's jabs and only smiled to herself when Carson handed her a cup of tea. She didn't dare to seek Robert's eye contact across the room. She had sensed how he had approached the tea service when Mama had entered the room, certainly still affected by their conversation that had been interrupted.

Mama had to be in a foul mood today and she seemed to stop at nothing, now muttering something depreciating to Thomas who served her tea. Cora stirred her cup while she considered if she should recommend another seat to Mama. She looked up and found Robert sipping his tea as he stood behind Mama. His gaze, which had been directed away from her, now met hers.

Violet was about to say something but changed her position a little to the left first while adjusting the pillow behind her back. Cora gulped and sought Robert's eyes again. His face was displaying an expression of rising panic as he saw the movements his mother made. Cora couldn't hold back an inward chuckle at his overcharged demeanour. She directed her gaze into the amber liquid and she tried to fully concentrate on her spoon's stirring when Mama finally made the statement that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue.

"Cora dear, your blatant disinterest in your daughter's well future really is indecent," Violet snapped. All heads turned to the Dowager. No one had expected this afternoon to escalate so quickly.

"Mama!" Robert interjected, his expression one of disbelief. He opened his mouth again to defend his wife but Cora lifted her hand in appeasement. Her gesture was discreet but Robert got the hint. He turned away with a huff, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. Once again, he wished for a real drink.

The servants had recovered faster than Robert and were already scurrying around again, refilling the girls' cups who had downed their teas to escape the loaded conversation of their mother and grandmother.

"I am sorry if that is what you are convinced of, but I am committed to all my daughters' futures and I am positive Sybil will do very well as the lady she gets to be," Cora eventually phrased her answer to Mama and gave her a small smile. Her tone was sweet and nothing hinted to the tiniest resentment. Robert turned back around slightly puzzled by the amiability in Cora's voice. How did she manage to stay so calm? But then he spotted a tiny glint in her eyes as she watched Mama turning in her seat once again with a displeased huff.

Cora knew, sure enough, Mama would get her just deserts, so she had decided against a unsettling answer in front of everyone. Mama and she had their extensive conversations without fault when they met for tea just the two of them every week. But that wasn't what she had in mind at the moment.

Robert suspected what Cora was aiming for. He could already hear the dangerous creak of the harassed settee leg. But maybe he just particularly pricked up his ears because no one else seemed bothered. But just as he averted his attention there was a loud snap followed by a surprised shriek. Robert could see on Cora's face that his mother's expression must be priceless. He only saw her hunched form on the lowered corner of the settee. The sound she had emitted was one completely unknown to him. Never had his mother uttered anything near to a shriek.

"Granny, are you alright?" Sybil inquired instantly. And Carson moved swiftly to help the Dowager up and to another, hopefully, safer seat.

"Yes, yes," Violet muttered, brushing her hands over the vast material of her skirts to distract her attention from the bewildering incident. "But it seems not only manners are treated negligently here nowadays. Robert, you should definitely have a closer look at the appropriateness of your furniture."

At this, Robert shot a look at Cora who had her lips pressed together tightly and Robert had to close his eyes for a moment to keep his composure.

"I totally agree, Mama. I will renew some of our furniture. And I am sorry for the discomfort you had to endure."

The conversation finally found another topic when Mary decided to involve her grandmother in a discussion about the impending wedding of a distant cousin Violet was about to attend. Robert was grateful for the easing of tension in the room and he saw at the relaxation of Cora's shoulders when asked Edith's about the novel she had mentioned earlier, that she was also happy about the détente of the situation.

When they left the drawing room afterwards, Robert leaned down a little to Cora's ear so that she was the only one to hear his words. "That came as a well-planned revenge, my dear."

"Oh, I wouldn't have managed without you." She grinned up at him. Robert somehow had expected a light blush at his statement and not the nonchalant coquetry she performed and that showed on her features. He was once again dazzled by his wife's astute adaptability to every situation.

[hamethyst]

Fool Dreamers

Summary:  Before she was a hero, she had been a warrior. A hunter. A sister. A girl, dreaming simply of a better world. 

Of all the people who could have understood that, she didn’t expect the foremost to be a prince. Friendship, introspection, backstory, and Buduga Boys. <12,000 words (yeah, it’s long lol).

&&&

She should have seen this coming. Could have, if she had heeded Leveva’s advice and continued practicing her astromancy in the midst of her conjury. Then again, perhaps the other woman had seen that she wouldn’t, and only spoken so she could, however subtly, rub it in her face upon her next visit to Ishgard. It sounded like something she would do.

Either way, she felt the regret of her oversight keenly now, the gaps between her fingers itching for the knife-edges of her cards as she held her opponents in her sights, missing the weight of an astrometer against her back.

She came out here, a half malm away from Mol Iloh, seeking time away from the boisterous celebrations happening in the village. It had been all just a touch too much, after so many years away. The Scions could be lively, but they could not compare to the Xaela clans at the dawning of Spring. And at the time, near a quarter of them were packed within the boundaries of the Mol’s small encampment, still basking in the highs of a hard-won victory.

So, Odzaya left, avoiding the light of the bonfires, the dance floor, the sounds of merrymaking emerging from every yurt. Only one saw her before she vanished: Organa, who shooed her on with a knowing smile and a finger to the lips that she playfully returned. She found a shallow plateau, one that reminded her of the larger one over Reunion’s proper, and settled with the tastes of buuz and warm tea still on her tongue, the stars above already in her sights. A bell passed, mayhap two, as she sought to refamiliarize herself with constellations that for the last eight years she had only seen from the perspective of one from Eorzea. Then she was duly interrupted.

“And what, pray tell, is the great khagun doing out here by her lonesome?” she heard from behind her, and looked over her shoulder to see, unexpectedly, the familiar dark forest green of the Buduga. Lower-ranking members, the three of them, by the way they stood, obviously too big for their britches, and Daidukul nowhere in sight. She felt a familiar simmer of annoyance start low in the pot of her belly at the sight.

“Seeking a small reprieve from the festivities,” she answered coolly, twisting in their direction with a casual air. “And you all?”

One of them, rosy-skinned with flames for hair, smirked condescendingly. “Looking for you, of course, dear daughter of the Dawn and Dusk.” She sniffed. Was that her new title, then?

“We have a small favor.” Another, skin bluer in tint, a sleek mane of pale bark-brown tumbling down his neck, took a lanky step forward. Instinctively, Odzaya’s hands tingled, aether building and spreading to her extremities in an instant.

“To ask?” she calmly guessed.

“To fulfill.” The third, his skin violet-brown, short blue hair in a coif that accentuated his chiseled features. “Eldest Daidukul could not be here himself, due to the injuries he sustained in the Naadam.” His eyes, pale silver and ringed in cobalt, narrowed. “Injuries you suffered him.”

She shrugged, unbothered by the hint of hostility in his tone and face. “Such are the stakes when one chances for the Throne. Surely you as warriors know this.”

“Nevertheless, we have come in his stead, to fulfill that which we know he would desire.”

They come without his knowledge, then, she thought, catching the way of their wording. They act on their own. “And that would be…?” she prompted, her brow lifting in time with the recesses of her magic.

“Poor warriors are we who failed to protect our eldest from harm, especially from that of someone clearly lesser.” The inflamed one spit out the last word as one would a bloody, too-loosened tooth. “‘Tis a failing for which we plan to atone.”

She sighed to herself. Why are we always so dramatic a people? “Look, men,” she began, and struggled not to apply too much sarcastic emphasis on a word, herself. “If you wish to contest my claiming of the ovoo and the subsequent privilege of being named khagun, then feel free. But it should be done at a proper time of day, among proper witnesses, yes?” She used an upturned hand to indicate the plains around them, empty but for wildlife, the wind, and the stones of which she mentally noted the positions. “However much the land comes alive during this time of year, I do not believe it counts as one.”

“There need not be proper procedures taken for an improper khagun,” the sleek-haired one sneered. “You are false, Odzaya Malaguld, as false as you were the first time you claimed blessings from the Sun, and we will prove it by besting you here and now.” He grinned. “There will be witnesses enough to see when we present your head to our khan at the Da– ah!”

A small stone, no larger than her thumb, pelted the center of his forehead, stunning him silent. “Thank the Mother,” she muttered, rising to her feet and brushing stray grass from her rear, her stave simultaneously manifesting in her unoccupied hand. “You’ve all spent far too much time amongst the Oronir,” she said, louder. “Bloody orators, the whole lot of you. The Buduga I knew were at least aware enough to know when they were being ignored.”

“The woman uses her magicks!” the inflamed one hissed to his brothers. “Be on your guard!”

“Probably for the best,” she agreed, grabbing their attention. “The only parts of you covered are your arms, legs, and private parts.” Another stone, slightly larger than the last, she sent at one’s bare stomach, just to prove her point. At least that has stayed the same in the last eight years, she joked to herself.Still, Odzaya kept her stance open, her shoulders loosened, her legs relaxed. Her stave she planted into the ground, presenting it more as a walking cane than a weapon. “Are you sure about this?” she asked them, clucking her tongue in skepticism. “Methinks you might be a touch out of your depth.”

“White-scaled witch! Worry not for the warriors who will soon drink of your blood!” The blue-haired one drew his spear and rushed her, only to be taken off course as a blast of wind knocked him back. He grunted as the skin of his left side, catching the brunt of the air’s force, opened in a scattering of paper-thin cuts.

“Must have gotten that one from Daidukul,” she chuckled, referring to his epithet. “It was always a favorite of his.”

“Do not speak the eldest’s name!” The sleek-haired one, wiping the dirt from his forehead, drew daggers from his belt and charged. He missed the rise of the sizable stone at his back until it hit him there, sending him sprawling to the grass with a skid.

They were younger than she thought; young, or exceptionally unskilled. No strategy, no eye for their surroundings. They were little better than a trio of rampaging dzo, so uncoordinated were their efforts. She remembered seeing them during the Naadam; they had remained at the rear, offering support to their clan’s more seasoned members. Now she knew why. Warriors, they mayhap were, but infantile ones, untested outside of Bardam’s ancient trials. Excessively passionate and daringly dim. She smiled to herself. Little worse than me, all those years ago. “How old are you all?” she asked, suddenly curious, leaning lightly on her staff, her tail wrapping lightly around it, the weight of her locs shifting as her head tilted, her earring tinkling with the movement. She tucked one vine-like strand of pink hair behind a fanned ivory horn.

“Old enough to know well your crimes, False Sun,” the inflamed one (what were their names, anyhow?) snarled. He made another attempt to enter her orbit, only for the wind to send him spiraling back to his comrades. His grimace deepened.

“My knocking your eldest brother flat is not a crime,” she corrected. “Be thankful that was all he suffered.” Gods know she had stayed her hand with no small effort as her stave had connected like a pole-arm to his neck, the sharpened adornments cutting deep into his shoulder.

“Thankful?!” He scoffed. “Thankful for some arrogant imposter of a Xaela pretending to be one of us, only to eschew our ways and steal the Throne from those to which it rightfully belongs? A woman who brought foreigners into our sacred rites, making a mockery of centuries of tradition?” The sneer returned to his face, uglier than before. “You are a usurper, Malaguld, a conniving succubus who slithered her way into Illustrious Brother Magnai’s bed, then left him shamed as you crossed the seas, only to return and rob us of our home.” Odzaya felt her eyes widen when he stepped forward, spine straight as an arrow, his branch-thin chest puffed as a pissed halgai. “That day you fell from the Dawn Throne, the land should have drank of your life as well as your blood. As what should have occurred today.”

“No doubt it was her foul magicks that saved her,” the blue-haired one drawled, drawing off of his companion’s confidence. Beside him, their sleek-haired brother joined them.

“No matter,” he declared. “She will not escape her fate this time.”

Odzaya eyed them each in turn, absorbing their accusations with pursed lips. Her stave remained at rest in the grass, supporting her weight, tuned to the aether swirling deeper in the earth, connecting her to a small vestige of its presence, warm and thick. She closed her eyes, breathing in, and felt it in the air, frissons that bypassed clothing and skin and settled in her bones.

She laughed. Great, resounding bursts that left her throat and made her small body fold unto itself with the force. She snorted, probably; hiccuped, definitely, the natural abrasion of her voice growing in time with her mirth. When she went to cover her mouth – because by the Sun the looks on their faces could have melted the ground at her feet – it somehow only made it worse.

“You laugh?!” The inflamed one looked so livid she swore his hair began moving, licking locks seeming to flit about his head like the fires they resembled. The others, predictably, were calmer, but their faces were no less stormy.

“Apologies, warriors,” she wheezed. “I am merely surprised.” Another hitch found its out of her mouth, and she finally sought to calm herself enough to remember how to breathe and speak. “I am sorry,” she said again, and that time it was comprehensible. She continued, straightening, her staff still held tight in her grip. “You just caught me unawares. No idea had I that such a tale had been woven in my absence.” And what a tale it was, she thought, containing small smatterings of truth cushioned by enough fluff and drama to impress even Ishgard’s High Houses. To think I am that dastardly, she thought, giggling once more to herself. ‘Tis almost impressive.

“A ‘tale’ that tells the history of your arrogance and treachery, Raen witch!” the sleek-haired one yelled. “A history that failed to put you in your proper place when it should have. We will not allow it to happen a second time!” At his cue, he and his brothers retook their stances, weapon edges a gleaming threat under the moonlight.

She snorted again. “I don’t suppose you will allow me to tell my side?”

“So you can fill our heads with lies and empty slander?” the blue-coiffed one rumbled. “We think not.” Lowering his body into a crouch, lance pointed at the ready, she saw the winding of the coils in his legs, preparing to launch him forward...

“A shame. I, for one, was looking well forward to hearing more.”

...before he stumbled to a stop just as he began to lift off, shocked as they all were to hear a voice not among their own speak. The mystery did not last as Odzaya turned in the direction of a movement out of the corner of her eye, only to see a bristling tail of ebon hair appear over the edge of her small plateau, soon followed by the now-familiar visage of one smiling Doman prince.

“Hien?” she murmured, at the same time the Buduga trio exclaimed, “Fire Walker!”

“Fellow warriors,” the Hyuran man greeted them. With obvious ease, his arms pulled him up over the lip of the plateau, where he rose and genially approached them, his fur-trimmed yellow dogi bright against the deepening blue of the night. To the trio he lifted a friendly hand; to her, she noted, surprise making her eyes widen slightly, he gave a shallow but notably respectful bow. “Lady Khagun,” he addressed her, and after hearing the title spoken with such insulting abandon over the past several instances, hearing it in such a distinctly reverent tone threw her, enough that she failed to react in any kind of appropriately timed manner. Hien, thankfully, moved on before it could be made obvious, though not before she thought she caught an amused quirk in his grin. “Quite the interesting gathering we have here tonight,” he said, the words and his expression clearly implying curiosity. He made a point of eyeing the boys’ unsheathed weapons. “And lively.”

To Odzaya’s continued surprise, the boys froze, then scrambled to compose themselves, their bloodlust disappearing as quickly as their weapons lowered in the next heartbeat. “We were, ah, having a discussion with the khagun, Brother Hien,” the inflamed one fumbled a reply. Hien nodded.

“I heard this discussion.” The trio blanched, their colorings seeming to reduce to near-stark white. Hien maintained his grin, as well as his approach. “Or part of it, at least. ‘Twas a truly fantastic tale you had to tell of our khagun.” One thick, scarred eyebrow lifted to his bangs. “A pity that you refused us to hear her version.”

“We wished not to hear her lies, Fire Walker,” the sleek-haired one boldly asserted. “You know not her reputation, the damage she has wrought!” He glared at her. “Comrades we know you are, but she is not to be trusted.”

“I see.” Hien crossed his arms, his expression contemplative. “Forgive my ignorance, gentlemen, but these are rather serious accusations, are they not? And not made lightly, nor in mere idle gossip, as you three took the initiative to seek out Odzaya Khagun with them in hand, yes?”

It was still very odd to hear someone say her full name and new title; she blinked when she heard it leave his lips, altered slightly by his Doman dialect, and caught the corner of his gaze once more when she looked at him. That time, the quirk of amusement at the edge of his mouth was obvious to her sight, and she wondered what it meant.

“Correct, Brother Hien.” The inflamed one nodded vigorously. “Eldest brothers Magnai and Daidukul could not be here, due to prior responsibilities. No doubt they would have, otherwise.”

“Aye, perhaps,” Hien spoke, nodding in seeming agreement. He lifted his gaze to them. “And do you all think that, given the severity of these matters, they would have handled them thus?”

“Ye-” The inflamed one’s mouth shut before his reply could be completed, his gaze suddenly unsure. The other two, as well, finally seemed to take stock of the situation as it stood. The three of them, members of a losing clan, weapons drawn with obvious intent, and her, the new khagun, alone and a malm away from the nearest settlement.

The laws of the Steppe could be and were often few and far between. The laws that existed, however, were understood to be absolute. And one such law forbade the forceful removal of a khagun without due process.

Even a trio of rampaging dzo could see where they had faltered. Odzaya let loose a small smile.

“I am afraid you have landed yourselves in quite the cavernous pit, gentlemen,” Hien continued, leveling them with a calm but assertive look. “Not only have you taken it upon yourselves to act in the name of your khans without their express permission, you have used this false authority to attempt what I am afraid can only be called assassination. Not only of the rightful representative of the Xaela, but of a member of the clan to which I am so honorably bound. Not only a leader or comrade, but a friend.” Abruptly, the prince’s stance changed, hardened almost imperceptibly, and Odzaya, for the first time, noted his positioning: directly between herself and her offenders. When next he spoke, his tone, too, was different, a note of depth and intensity that had been utterly absent before. “Foreigner I may be, but I cannot, in good faith, take such brazen moves lightly.” A distinctive click sounded in the windswept quiet, and she noted the katana looped through his obi, the fingers he had wrapped around the hilt, and the thumb that had partially, near-imperceptibly loosed the blade from its sheath, revealing just a hint of glimmering steel. “What say you, warriors?” he asked, deceptively nonchalant.

If the young men before her had blanched previously, they fair bleached now, their gazes locked on that blade. Odzaya looked at Hien herself, no small measure of surprised and impressed.

And then he met her gaze, for just a moment, just out of the corner of his eye, and winked, his mouth turning upward.

Ah. She schooled her own reflexive smile before it could become visible, and tailored her expression into that which she only used when dealing with those with particularly hard skulls. Stepping forward, she made a show of laying her hand over the hilt of Hien’s katana, covering his bare, calloused fingers with her own. She eyed the three young men, exuding a diplomatic calm. “Mayhap you’d be willing to consider my previous suggestion now?” They startled at her voice, eyes still wide as their gazes shifted from the prince to her. Still shell-shocked enough to momentarily forget the hate they were meant to be spewing. She took advantage. “You obviously feel strongly about the new status quo that has been established on the Steppe. You deserve to air those grievances. Agreed?”

They looked at one another, then at her. Nearly revived their tirade, she thought, before their gazes fell once more to the barely-visible shine of Hien’s blade. “Aye,” one finally answered gruffly.

“Then approach your khan,” Hien declared, stepping forward ‘til he was at her shoulder. “Make your case. And if supported, proper motions can be made before her, as witnessed by the appropriate parties.” He looked down to regard her briefly. “Something Odzaya Khagun suggested ere your conflict began, if I recall.”

Then he’d been present for longer than they realized, Odzaya thought, lifting an eyebrow, before focusing on the trio. There was more reluctant agreement on their side, in the form of shuffling sandaled feet, and weapons that were finally put away. Hien seemed to take it as a signal; as quickly as his intensity appeared, it vanished, and the young lord regained his genial smile as his blade disappeared back into its sheath so quickly one wondered if they had even seen its initial flash of light.

“We will do this,” the blue-haired one declared. To his credit, he looked at least partly chastised, as did his brothers as they took a definitive step back. “Thank you for your council, Fire Walker.” He hesitated a moment, then, and with even more reluctance than before, met her gaze. “And yours, khagun,” he added, low enough that they only heard it because it carried on the breeze she still controlled.

“Eldest Brother Daidukul still wants you with us, samurai,” the inflamed one declared. “Our loss in the Naadam does not change this.”

Hien simply nodded. “A matter for another time, perhaps.”

“A time that will come soon,” the sleek-haired one vowed, to the prince’s easy amusement. Then, in sync with his brothers, he stiffly bowed; his gaze found hers as they rose. “‘Til next time.” Only the slightest hint of that now-familiar sneer, no doubt reduced to avoid another glimpse of Hien’s blade, as well as any more stones to the face or wind shears to the extremities. Odzaya smiled.

“Tell Daidukul and Magnai I liked the story. T’was nice to hear a gist of all that has been said of me these summers past.”

A grunt was his reply, and her smile widened. Then she and Hien watched as the Buduga warriors began their trek back across the plains, carefully bypassing Mol Iloh. When it became clear there would be no sudden backtrack, Odzaya sighed and allowed her stave to dissipate. “Well…” When she looked up, Hien was watching her, the amused grin she caught on his lips now out for the world to see. She matched it. “That was fun.”

“Certainly eventful.” Unexpectedly, he pointed upward. “Will that still be necessary, do you think?”

She followed his finger. “Ah.” She sent a small wave of her aether to the sky; mere moments later, the ground shook as a boulder – wide enough for Gosetsu to comfortably seat his rump on – hit the ground several fulms away, mere ilms from where the Buduga trio had previously stood. “I suppose not,” she said, smiling at the black brows that rose near to Hien’s hairline. “Thankfully, I did not need it.”

“Full glad am I that you did not!” he chuckled. “Though I suspect it may have offered more effective support than myself or my measly blade.”

“Tis the thought that counts, my lord,” she replied, her smirk teasing. “Besides, rocks cannot spout ancient Auri law. It was impressive to hear.”

“The praise should go to Cirina. I must thank her once more for those weeks she stayed by my sickbed, entertaining what certainly must have seemed an endless spiel of questions.” Hien looked, smiling absently, in the direction the Buduga trio departed. “My idea to petition the Xaela clans to aid in Doma’s liberation came shortly after I awoke on the Steppe; it did not take long, after all, for me to see the strength of your people. I knew from the first, however, that I would stand little chance of convincing anyone without proper knowledge – and respect – for Xaelic history and customs. So, once my injuries allowed me to remain conscious for longer than a bell, I plead with the Mol to educate me; and Cirina, being the khatun’s granddaughter, as well as having essentially taken on the role of my caretaker, became my primary teacher.”

Odzaya lifted a dark pink brow. “And here I thought you spent all that recovery time stuffing yourself with boortsog.” Hien laughed.

“The Mol made idleness more tempting than I care to admit. Cirina, however, turned out to be quite the pedagogue. Once I was well enough to move, she declared I would only continue to learn if I began reconditioning my body in conjunction. Fortunately, I did not need to be convinced.”

Odzaya fairly beamed with pride. “I always knew she had a knack for instruction. She always said she was too soft-hearted.”

“She said she learned her oh-so-effective ways from another. Her older sister, I believe.”

Her grin froze, for just a moment. Then softened. “Did she?”

“Aye.” Hien eyed her, his smile like her own. “When I asked who she was, she insisted it mattered not, that the young woman in question had left the Steppe long ago.” He watched her, his gaze turning gently scrutinizing.

Odzaya let out a breath. “So she had,” she replied, shrugging. “Probably for the best.” Hien chuckled.

“Oh? And why is that?” Odzaya snorted at him.

“Rather sure you heard, eavesdropper.” She went over the Buduga trio’s seemingly endless list of scathing epithets. “She was a troublemaker. An impostor. A would-be usurper.”

“A witch?” Hien arched an eyebrow. “A succubus?”

“At least the last two show some creativity,” she muttered, smirking to herself.

“‘Tis certainly an interesting interpretation of one woman’s character.” Hien crossed his arms, his expression pondering, his head at a tilt. “Quite different from the impression I received from Cirina, if they indeed speak of the same person.”

“And how did she describe her?” she asked, admittedly curious.

Hien grinned. “In a word? As a hero.”

A memory at her subconscious, of Mol Iloh in a different place and time. Of her soaring over those familiar red-draped white-clothed roofs on yol-back, only to land and be immediately pounced upon by a half-dozen tiny bodies. One always hung back, equal parts patient and shy, until she approached herself with outstretched arms. Only then would little Rina run up to and into them, pale, black-scaled hands gripping her shoulders, her laughter a soft, high-pitched chirp, like a bird, as she spun them around.

Odzaya smiled. “Cirina always had an active imagination. She also used to swear I looked like a flower.”

“I can see that,” Hien said, to which she shot him a tolerant look. “Is her interpretation of you so far-fetched?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

“I was young, no older than twenty summers, and thought I could change the world.” She chuckled, looking out over grassy plains. “My world, at least. I wasn’t heroic, just arrogant and naive.” She tossed her head in the direction of the Dawn Throne, where three soaring figures, dull white against the ink-blue sky, could be seen. “Like them.”

“They were certainly passionate about their views. And more than a little belligerent.” Hien looked at her, curiosity stamped openly across his wide brow. “Were you the same at their age?”

“Belligerent? No.” She smirked. “Could I pick a fight every now and again, sometimes against senior clansmen? Sometimes.”

“So, an occasional troublemaker you were, then? Making their tale at least partly true?”

Odzaya tipped her head, considering, before meeting Hien’s expectant gaze with a half-sheepish shrug. The young lord immediately laughed, and she could not help the small giggle that she released alongside him.

“My interest in this tale continues to grow!” he exclaimed. “I daresay I will end this day unsatisfied for not having heard it in its entirety.”

Odzaya jerked a thumb in the general direction of the palace. “The boys haven’t gotten too far. Even if you miss them along the way, you can always take a friendly night flight to the Dawn Throne yourself and ask the skilled orators to recite it for you.” She allowed a hint of sarcasm to enter her tone. “The ‘Fire Walker’, I am sure, would at least be welcome.”

“Hmm.” Hien made a show of stroking his bearded chin. “A tempting offer. The view from the Dawn Throne is quite spectacular.”

“Beats mine, I’d bet.” Odzaya stretched her arms overhead, sighing with relief as her spine cracked; little surprise, it always seemed to stiffen when she spoke of the past. Then, with a small burst of wind-aspected aether, she leapt up, lightly planting and plopping herself down atop her new boulder, swinging her legs and tail and tossing her locs over her shoulder. She looked down at Hien, who grinned up at her amusedly.

“Is this a sign that my presence is no longer welcome?”

“More a signal that your duty is complete.” She smiled at him. “I thank you kindly for your assistance, Hien. I have a feeling that encounter would not have gone as peacefully as it did without your intervention.”

Hien stepped forward, his hand finding the boulder’s surface as he examined it. “Were you truly going to drop this on them if they had not kept their distance?”

“No,” she answered honestly. She paused. “Perhaps. But not to smash them.” As he chuckled, she shrugged. “A hindrance, it served as, little more. Though I am a bit disappointed they never noticed it.” Their faces would have been priceless.

“You and me, both,” Hien replied, no doubt imagining something similar as his smile turned toothy. He removed his hand from the boulder and took a step back. “Full glad am I that I could be of help, khagun, however far you were from having need of it.” He gave her a princely bow, obviously done in jest but somehow still seeming sincere in its execution. As he rose, his gaze matched. “One can only hope there will not be a reoccurrence.”

“I can always find more wind and rocks,” she joked. “And more boulders. Though it may prove difficult to find any more foreign princes with a penchant for knightliness and ancient Auri law.”

Hien shook his head, looking profoundly disappointed. “And here I was led to believe that this land provided all one could ever need.” Odzaya giggled.

“Will you be attending to the Dawn Throne, then? Something tells me they might be lacking for one, as well.”

“That depends,” said prince replied, one expressive eyebrow rising. “Would one still be appreciated here?”

Odzaya briefly contemplated, then answered by scooting her bottom to the right of her boulder and patting the empty space that emerged. “If he does not mind a not-quite-so-spectacular view.” For some reason, she wasn’t quite ready to return to her lonesome just yet. Hien grinned up at her so widely his eyes crinkled.

“From where I am standing, I do believe that may be arguable.” And before she could properly reply, or even parse his meaning, he took her invitation. Odzaya felt the boulder shift slightly as Hien walked around, climbed aboard, and settled himself beside her, legs crossed, the warmth of the bare skin of his arm minutely felt through the sheep’s wool of her coat. “Surprisingly comfortable,” he said admirably. “You found quite the quality stone, my friend.”

“Only the best for those I threaten to squish,” she japed.

“Such care taken, even for her enemies,” Hien chuckled. “Perhaps this dreaded succubus is not so horrid a figure, after all.”

Odzaya huffed in amusement, still finding herself tickled by the Buduga trio’s tale. “Or perhaps she is just seducing you into believing such. I have a history of that, apparently.”

“Far worse fates I can imagine, if so,” he replied, and his smile turned slightly cheeky again. “I should think Illustrious Brother Magnai felt a similar way.”

Odzaya snorted so hard, her nose burned. “Magnai never feels anything, except pride and perhaps constipation due to the stick up his arse. Even if he did, it’s not as if we were ever truly together. Merely…” She stopped herself abruptly, realizing what she was revealing. She glanced at Hien only to find him watching her, his eyebrows arched, his mien open and unobtrusive. And dreadfully curious. Odzaya shifted her sights to the stars overhead, wondering, briefly, if her astromancy would allow her to turn back time just enough to retake her words. No such luck most like (another point in Leveva’s favor), and feeling the proverbial maw open at her feet, ironically about the size of the boulder she excavated, she released a surrendering sigh. “Merely betrothed,” she finished, lamely.

“Ah,” Hien said simply, nodding. The utter neutrality of his tone only served to make the unspoken question of “and the difference is...?” all the more obvious.

“Our union was never consummated,” she explained, before he could find a polite way to ask or awkwardly tread around it. “I left before it could be. A mutual decision.”

“I see. Interesting; by the Buduga’s reckoning, the decision was yours and yours alone, with Magnai little more than a jilted lover left to salvage the remains of said pride in your absence.”

“Magnai was fine,” she said immediately, attempting to picture the Oronir brokenhearted. It failed to come together in her mind’s eye. “It would have been a simple matter of him picking someone else to replace me.”

Hien lifted his brow once more. “Someone else?”

“Do you remember Dorbei very loudly lamenting during our journey back to the village after the Naadam? Something about my ‘having my pick of the Steppe’?” At the prince’s nod, she shrugged. “He wasn’t entirely joking. A particular perk of being khagun is the privilege of choosing romantic partners.”

Hien made an expression of recognition, then grinned. “Quite the perquisite, that is.”

“So long they are not previously, exclusively bound to another, anyone can be chosen. And one’s fortune is considered great if they are.” Odzaya set her eye on the Dawn Throne, her brow furrowing in remembrance. “That year, my twentieth summer, Magnai won the Naadam for the Oronir. And chose me.”

Mol Iloh, those same comforting red-draped roofs, even if she no longer had the means to see them from above. She saw Cirina, no longer so small a bird, no longer able to fit in her arms quite so easily, but still running up to her like she always had, only more carefully, as if her big sister would break if startled or handled too roughly. Still smiling, but there was something different behind it, urgent in her grass-green eyes. Odzaya knew not what it was until another figure had made itself known behind her, tall and imposing, clad in dark leather and darker fur, the blonde tips of his hair and the gold of his gaze catching and binding the sunlight that beat down on them from a too-blue sky. And as she had risen, cautiously, to face him, hands speckled with dirt, still clutching the herbs she had plucked from the earth, that gaze had been strangely gentle.

“I rejected him, the first time,” Odzaya said, smirking. The moon, large and round and flooding the land with silver, reminded her of the sun that day, how it had coated her back with warmth and heated the dirt under her hands and turned the backs of her eyelids yellow, until Magnai’s shadow had blocked it all out. “I thought it was a joke, or a trap. But then he came back, insistent that he was serious.”

“What manner of trap might it have been?” Hien asked.

“In the aftermath of the Naadam, victorious clans have been known to target those who previously opposed them on the battlefield. Sometimes, it is a simple matter of establishing dominance, ridding them of whatever compulsion they may have to object to the land’s decision. Other times, those opposing clans are near-decimated, people and all, as a means of eliminating future competition.”

“An effective if not ruthless tactic,” Hien commented. Odzaya nodded in agreement.

“T’was not a very common practice until recently. Some of the abandoned villages you see scattered across the land are the last vestiges of raids that occurred over the last two epochs.” Tilting toward Hien, she indicated one such set of remains, far off in the distance, only noticeable by the skeleton of a watchtower. Hien momentarily leaned close to see it, his eyes squinting.

“They remind me of the ruins I could see from the palace as a boy, when I scaled the outer walls to survey the lands beyond,” he remarked. “Hollowed out buildings, the pillaged ruins of small towns and caravans.” He sighed and leaned back. “I am almost loathe to say it, but the tactics are similar to those the Empire employs. Seeing such disaster, with no certain way of knowing if the people themselves survived; it certainly does well to lower morale.”

“So it does.” She pointed to another landmark, this one far easier to see due to the lantern’s light that separated it from the night. “‘Tis not all bad, though. The beacons one finds all over? Those were remains, as well. A number of clans, most notably the Qestir, repurposed them over the years, that they might serve travelers seeking sanctuary and safety from the wildlife. Or opportunistic clansmen.”

“Do they not all eventually lead to Reunion?” At her nod, Hien smiled. “The one place on the Steppe where violence is prohibited. Not a coincidence, I’m sure.”

“Correct.” Odzaya smiled, as well, pleased by his deduction. The origin of the lanterns had ever been one of her favorite stories. Lights in the dark, and all that.

“Ingenious in its practicality,” the prince said. “And beautiful in its symbolism.” His smile sobered and softened in equal measure, his gaze turning inward. “I wonder if perhaps…” He trailed off.

“Perhaps…?” Odzaya repeated. Hien came back to himself, then shook his head. To her surprise, he looked a touch sheepish.

“Bah, nothing. Just getting ahead of myself, as I am sometimes wont to do. One step at a time, after all.” He looked at her. “Tis truly a wonderful way to honor the past while accounting for the future. I imagine, however, that you wished not for your own clan to share such a fate, thus your caution when Magnai approached you.”

“Mm,” she confirmed with a hum. “That year, I entered the Naadam as the only representative of the Malaguld; the first, apparently, in decades. As you can probably guess, we are of the more peaceful clans, wholly uninterested in the goings-on of constant warfare. We are also one of the few clans that accept Raen members, and most of ours are refugees, former citizens across Yanxia and Hingashi displaced from their homes in the wake of the Garlean invasion.” Suddenly recalling, Odzaya turned to him, her expression eager. “Some of them are Doman; they’ve wished to speak with you.”

“Aye, they approached me during the celebration. We spoke for some time; a number of them wish to accompany us to join the Liberation Front.” Hien’s eyes were bright with the prospect. “I will have to thank your khatun for granting them sanctuary all these years. It means more than words can say to know they found the safety of another home, and even more that they have not lost hope for their former.” His expression then turned curious. “Tell me: are the origins of the Raen in your clan, then, a representation of your own?”

More roofs, tho ugh these were not draped with red . Rather, they were looped over and around by swathes of rich plum purple. To the Xaela, it was a color that meant balance and harmony, unity and sanctuary. It covered everything, like the Mol’s red back home. Tables and chairs, horsebacks and floors. And people. Beautiful designs woven across robes and pants and tunics, encasing arms white -scaled as well as black . Something she had never seen before excepting her own reflection .

Would these people know her? Recognize her? Would they be able to tell her from where she came, and from whom?

S he remembered herself a moon before, sitting by the river with her friends , smearing her arms, her legs, her neck and cheeks and horns with rich loam. She had lain out in the sun, per instruction, waiting for it to dry and harden, all of them waiting with bated breath for the transformation it would bring. She remembered her secret, keen disappointment when, later that eve, the water from her bath had washed away their efforts so easily.

No more, she thought, as she clutched Temulun’s hand in her own tiny one and they passed under a familiar archway bracketed by matanga tusks. N o more loam, n o r ashes, nor ink for her scales . N o more hood s to cover her horns. No more targeted threats to her loved ones’ safety for the sole Raen girl in their midst.

No more reminders that while she was not Xaela, she was Au Ra.

In her young eyes, the color purple meant belonging.

“Perhaps,” she edged, and accompanied her response with a carefree shrug. Hien’s brow perked with his curiosity. The frequency of the gesture almost made her smile.

“You do not know?”

“I was adopted into the Mol as a baby,” she explained, her gaze finding the clan’s village in the distance, still lit from within with the warm light of bonfires. “Then, when I was seven, I was given to the Malaguld, as a means to ensure I would not...stick out, quite so much on the Steppe. The Mol were already regular targets of the more aggressive clans. My being among them only made the eyes on their backs larger, hungrier. Like wolves preying on sheep.” She recalled Cirina’s words.

“And you were a lamb with white horns,” Hien interjected, and gave her a light smile. Odzaya snorted at his quip.

“So I was.”

“Then no one ever told you your origins.”

“No. I suspected some might know, but I never inquired much, to be honest.” She shrugged easily. “While the differences between myself and the others may have bothered me as a child, as time passed, it no longer seemed to matter as much. I was hardly the only person in the world without parents or a known history, and though I may not have shared a story with any of those who raised or grew with me, we shared a home. That came to be enough. They were my family, both clans, and I would do my utmost to protect them.”

“And so you entered the Naadam,” Hien concluded. It was not a question; nevertheless, Odzaya nodded.

“We had experienced raids since I was a child. Every time, we lost something, be it our possessions or our livestock, our homes or a person.” She brow dipped with the weight of old trepidation. “I grew sick of it. Sick of living in fear. Of being seen as weak.” She looked at Hien, and knew the look in her eye was just this side of ferine. “Lamb though I was, I had my horns. Eventually, I sought to learn to use them.”

“I can hardly fault you that.” Hien impressed her with a look of his own, his eyes glinting once, fiercely, under the starlight. “I often felt the same as a boy, locked away in the palace, a gilded cage of the Empire’s make. A bird with clipped talons.”

Odzaya smirked. “So you sharpened them with a sword.” On a whim, she reached out, around the bend of his knee, to tap a slender finger on the hilt of his katana at rest between them. “They seem to be serving you well now.” He chuckled.

“That they are. I greatly anticipate using them to capacity in Doma.” He gave her a bracing smile. “And from the prowess I’ve seen, I am sure your horns became rather sharp, as well.”

“They did,” she confirmed. “Figuratively as well as literally.” He laughed, and she continued. “I started practicing swordplay on my own around the age of twelve. Poorly. Then Organa found me out and set me on the proper path.”

“The Malaguld’s khatun?” Hien smartly recalled. “She certainly seems a formidable woman.”

“At the time, she was still only a hunter, though one of our best; after she discovered my secret interest, she took it upon herself to train me, if only so I wouldn’t accidentally kill myself. She periodically took me on her trips out into the wilderness to procure the clan’s meals, and used those trips as her lessons. She taught me how to properly care for armor and weaponry, to inspect for damage or wear, to be cognizant of the effects my wielding could have, both good and bad.” Odzaya chuckled. “All before she ever let me actually use anything, mind you.”

“The role Organa played in your life is sounding increasingly like the role Gosetsu played in mine,” Hien commented, shifting his cross-legged stance and lacing his fingers in his lap. “He taught me, too, the arts of war. My father asked him to, as a means to simultaneously occupy my time, temper my apparently boundless energies, and teach me discipline.” He shrugged his scarred shoulders. “Obviously, he would have done so himself, but balancing both the kingdom and the Empire’s grip on it understandably took precedence.” He smiled. “At the time, of course, I did not comprehend the scope of such politics. All I knew was that my father was the greatest samurai in Othard, renowned for his bladework. If he would not teach me, I declared, no one would.”

“Well, well. And how’d that work out for the little master Shun?” Odzaya asked, raising her brows at him expectantly. Hien shot her a mock scowl, reminded of the closely-guarded secret she was made privy to that first night after their official introduction. Then it melted into something sheepish.

“Spectacularly, once I finally managed to surface from the pond Gosetsu tossed me into in reply.” Odzaya chuckled.

“Saw that one coming.”

“If only you had been there to share your foresight,” he said. “Was Organa’s handling of you equally as rigorous?”

“Well, she never threw me anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking,” she quipped. “She was tough, but fair. Strict when she felt she needed to be, but forgiving of my mistakes, and always willing to lend an ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on.”

“You sound close,” Hien commented with a smile. Odzaya returned it.

“She is my sister, as much as she was my mentor. In truth, I had hoped she would participate in the Naadam with me. It seemed almost obvious to me that she should. Even after I began hunting on my own and overcame Bardam’s Mettle, I still saw her as the best we had.” Her smile sobered. “If anyone could have changed our lives for the better, alleviated the fear we lived under, t’would have been her.”

The hollow of her horns rang. High above, silhouetted against a dusky sky, their yol circled, surveying the surrounding land for more prey. Their current catch, a pair of wandering baras, had breathed their last long ago, their tusks gleaming with a morbid beauty in the dying sunlight. She could already imagine the work ahead, the skinning, deboning, and tanning that would be done upon their return.

For the first time, n one of it mattered. Only the rejection that echoed between them, caught between their locked gazes. “What?” she finally asked, and felt shame as her voice came out hoarse with shock.

Organa sighed, her glowing-ember gaze amused. “You heard me.”

Odzaya’s heart sank. “But why not?”

“Because,” she began, approaching their quarry. With a light grunt, she flipped one baras over and kneeled, inspecting its hide for damage. “I am tired.”

“Tired?” she echoed. “Of what?”

“Clans,” her sister answered simply. “Rules, rituals.” Odzaya shook her head, watching her work.

“I do not understand.”

“Mother is getting older,” Organa declared suddenly. She tapped a tusk’s tip with her finger, nodded with satisfaction. “She has thus decided it time for me to consider taking her place in earnest. For the past three moons, I have spent my mornings, afternoons, and eves in the main yurt, listening to the oh-so-wise prattle of our elders.” That amusement in her eyes turned exasperated. “Gods know I love them, but they love to talk. About history, about hierarchies, about the unpatched holes in the roof. About everything and nothing.” She gusted out a breath strong enough to riffle the fur under her inspecting fingers. “I leave those walls yearning for one thing: to get away. Gather my bow, grab my yol, and go hunt.” She looked up at her. “I am tired. And now you bring this up.” Her tone held no serious accusation; nevertheless, Odzaya felt the sting of something like it.

“Do they not also gather to discuss routes for the clan to take to best avoid trouble? To take stock of our resources in the case that we’re pillaged? Plan funeral rites in advance for those we will inevitably lose to both?”

Organa sighed. “Dzaya–”

“Are you not tired of hearing that, as well? I am.” The older woman lifted her brow, a smirk forming.

“You’ve been eavesdropping.” Her brow rose higher. “Again.” Another non-accusation. Odzaya boldly straightened her spine, inclining her head stiffly.

“Yes.” Organa chuckled.

“I thought I saw a shadow lingering around the yurt’s entry-way. Should have known it was not the stray muu shuwuu it looked like,” she said, playfully referencing the younger woman’s pink hair, fairly glowing in the orange of dusk. Odzaya pursed her lips.

“This is serious, Gana. We are courting disaster. Entire clans have been lost to the recent goings-on, and we are on the road to becoming next. We all know it. We have to do something.”

Organa’s smile dropped, and she finally returned to her full height. “ And by ‘something’, you mean participate in the Naadam,” she concluded. Odzaya nodded determinedly.

“We’ve tried negotiations over the years, yes? The more powerful clans have laughed at us; the neutral ones have shown us little more than pity. What option is left but to fight for our survival?”

“So you would have us go to war for our peace.” Organa crossed her arms, humorous pretense diminished to near nothing, her gaze penetrating. Odzaya met it with her own.

“Is that not the way of the Steppe?” she challenged in turn. Organa smirked.

“Aye, though I always hoped to avoid falling prey to it.”

“We’re already prey, Gana,” Odzaya argued. “Scavengers on our own lands, hunting for scraps with our tails between our legs like packs of starving gedan.” She clenched her fists, summers’ worth of fear and anger rising like bile in her belly. “The Naadam has been used for epochs to take our livelihood from us. Why should we not use it in turn to take it back?!” She took a breath and let it out, swore it came out hot like steam from a whistling kettle, or a dragon’s maw.

“And what of numbers?” Organa came back. “You would have the refugees among us take up arms they do not have, and fight another potentially losing battle for freedom? The same kind that took their families and friends away from them once before?”

“I would not ask them to fight if they did not wish to,” Odzaya said. “So many of them have weathered enough conflict, enough violence. The Naadam is not theirs to win. Rather, it should be…” she paused. Met Organa’s steady gaze with her own trembling, and knew she heard her.

“Ours,” her sister finished for her. Let out a gusty breath of humor as she looked away. “Of course.”

“You’re one of the best warriors on the Steppe,” Odzaya said. “And you taught me. And I’ve been training, far more than you think.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “The others say–”

“That you’re special?” Organa interrupted, knowingly. Odzaya’s mouth snapped shut, lips pursing tightly with surprise. Organa smirked. “Do not think you’re the only one who can hide in the shadows, little muu. I have heard all about your burgeoning reputation as a supposed chosen of Azim.”

H eat bloomed in the younger girl’s cheeks, blessedly hidden by her scales and dark skin, and she briefly dropped her gaze to the ground, embarrassed . “They are not my words.”

Organa chuckled. “I know.” She met her eyes, her own curious. “Is that why you so desperately wish to participate in the Naadam all of a sudden? Because you’ve convinced yourself that you are blessed?”

“Of course not,” Odzaya denied with a fervent shake of her head. “But regardless of whether it is true or not, could not the belief alone grant us an advantage? Maybe some of the clans will feel too threatened to fight!”

“You are playing with the Sun’s fire, Dzaya,” Organa said, her brow knitting severely. “The stronger clans will not take kindly to talk of some Raen girl toting herself as a daughter of the Dawn Father. The Oronir especially will be quick to prove your claims false, especially when one of their sons is claiming the same.”

Magnai. Odzaya failed, she knew, to keep the scowl completely off of her face as she thought of the arrogant young princeling with whom she had often clashed. “I could take him,” she boldly declared. “I’ve done it before.”

“Aye, but what of his followers? Could you take them? Could we, the two of us, alone against the brunt of thirty or more other warriors, all vying for your light-blessed blood?”

“At least we could try!” she burst out, frustration making the words echo through the dry air between them. She almost immediately regretted it, her tail reflexively lashing about her ankles with agitation, and she cautiously eyed her elder sister for her reaction.

Organa, to her surprise, merely smiled and huffed a laugh. She shook her head, and the motion was that of fondness.“You always were a dreamer,” she murmured. The amused affection wrapped around the statement, just this side of teasing, made Odzaya’s cheeks warm once more, though it allowed her to regain her composure. She straightened.

“This isn’t just a dream, Gana.” This was not her sitting by the river, a child smearing rich loam onto her horns and praying in vain for a miracle. “This is something real, that we can make happen.”

“Mm,” the woman intonated. “So you say.” Her smile diminished. “But at what cost?”

Odzaya fell silent. Organa pressed.

“To participate in the Naadam, a clan must have the resources. ‘Tis a privilege, and one we do not have. Our khatun is growing old,” she restated. “Our warriors are few. We both are two of them, and I am her successor. If we take part, and lose, that leaves our clan with two less protectors, two less hunters, and no leader for the coming years.”

“Then we proposition for additional warriors from other clans,” Odzaya suggested, regaining a foot, or so she thought. “Surely, they would join us, yes?”

“At risk of putting themselves in the same vulnerable position? Risking their warriors, their sons and daughters, what fragile stability they have?” Organa shook her head, her expression still fond, if more somber. “That is not going to happen, Odzaya,” she said.

“But–” She tried once more.

“I will be khatun,” her sister continued, cutting her off. “Sooner than I would like. And I must begin making decisions for the good of our clan. The ins and outs of every rule, the ups and downs of every choice. What is worth risking, and what is not.” With suddenly sharp, unyielding eyes, the eyes that made her a warrior, a leader, she met Odzaya’s gaze, and the younger woman felt her stomach drop abruptly to her feet with her heart and hope. “The well-being of our clan, of all our clans, is not worth risking. My succession is not worth risking. Your life, Odzaya, is not worth risking.” She shook her head once more. “Not for a dream, however sweet.”

Silence stood between them, then, at the end as it had at the beginning, broken only by a stiff breeze and the shriek of their yol, a confirmation of newly discovered prey, and then the buffet of powerful wings as they descended. She watched Organa tie and truss up their quarry, then silently secured a baras corpse to and mounted her yol, giving his mane a stroke when he chirped with concern.

The entire trip home, she kept her fingers buried in his bountiful feathers, hoping to stop their shaking.

“I imagine she had her reasons for choosing not to participate,” Hien ventured. Odzaya nodded, slowly, momentarily afloat in old disappointment.

“She did.” She shrugged, regrounding herself with the motion, and smiled with a shake of her head. “Nothing I wanted to understand at the time; too young, too stubborn. All I knew was that, between us, we had the power to make a difference. To make peace happen. To make dreams come true.” She let out a quiet, calming breath, then chuckled and looked down at her feet, idly kicking her legs against the air. “Or at least my own.”

“And what was your dream?” She looked up. Hien watched her, his gaze unexpectedly soft. Odzaya took a breath and looked back down.

“A land with no suffering,” she said, quietly. “A land where children could laugh, and none need live in fear of what tomorrow could bring.” Strangely self-conscious, she wrinkled her nose and sniffed lightly, then turned her sights up to the stars. “It seemed like something worth fighting for. Even if I had to fight for it alone.”

“So you did,” Hien asserted.

“So I did,” she confirmed. Then she huffed out a laugh. “And soundly lost.”

“The Naadam you spoke of eight years past, during which Magnai came away the victor,” Hien recalled, his face lighting briefly with realization. “T’was the same Naadam that you participated in, yes?”

Why did it feel like she was revealing some long-withheld secret as she nodded? “Turned out Gana had been right to refuse,” she confirmed. She shot him a brief smile. “Should have known, looking back. She’s never been wrong about anything.”

“Would knowing have stopped you from trying?” Hien asked.

“Probably not.” She chuckled once more. “Such is the way of a dreamer, I suppose. Or a fool. Every possible odd stacked against you, and all the world telling you not to bother, and still you feel you must at least-”

“Try,” Hien finished for her, and smiled, the gentility in his eyes magnified by the starlight seeping into their depths. It was a gaze not of sympathy, but empathy. Understanding.

Her heart thumped, once, hard as Bardam’s fist against her rib cage.

When she fell from the Dawn Throne, the wind that should have stormed past, igniting the hollow space of her horns, was little more than a whispered breeze. The short, sharp shriek of her yol as the arrow pierced his heart and he fell headlong beside her seemed little more than a small whimper. The clamor of those below, of Organa screaming her name, were a murmur, heard at a thousand malms’ distance.

H er descent was marked by Magnai’s grim mien and Daidukul’s savage grin as he lowered his bow. She wondered what they saw. An opponent defeated. A pest removed. A star once claiming to be the sun now setting , and burning away her dreams in its wake.

When her body hit the ground, the pain was strangely muted. Her skin ripped, her muscles tore. Her bones shattered, arms, legs, and ribs. Her spine was like a twig, so easily did it give against the earth, and the resounding crack of her skull, the snap of her horns breaking, resounded through her head like a hammer on stone.

A would-be star fallen back to earth, where it had always belonged.

Her vision whited out, her breath hitched with the puncture and subsequent collapse of her lungs. Her heart ceased with a last, desperate pulse. And yet, she was told later, her eyes remained clear. Locked on the sky as if in a trance, as if they saw something. As if merely daydreaming, even as her body went cold.

Which made it slightly less surprising when, moments and a small eternity later, her heart resumed its beating once more.

“Do you regret what happened that day of the rebellion?” she asked suddenly, unable to resist the inquiry as they stared at one another, as she pondered whether or not her interpretation of the look in his eyes was correct.

Hien blinked once, then smiled bittersweetly. “That depends,” he said, and lifted his gaze to the stars. “Do I regret the ease with which we were overrun? Yes. My lack of experience, my failing strength? Yes.” He took a deep breath, and when he next spoke, the pain in his voice sounded like sand caught in the back of his throat. “Do I regret the lives lost? Of course. My own stubbornness, my insistence that the fight continue even after my father fell and our forces were scattered? Yes.” He paused, lowering his chin, his gaze aimed at a middle distance she suspected led to a battlefield. “But do I regret that day in itself, joining my father and my fellow samurai and fighting for what I knew to be our dream, fools though we mayhap were for pursuing it?” His focus returned and he leveled it on her, and within its gentleness was a glittering steel that reminded her distinctly of his blade. “No,” he declared, quiet but firm. “I cannot say that I do.”

The line of her back hurt again. Odzaya shifted minutely in a vain attempt to alleviate the ache, then started in surprise when Hien suddenly chuckled. “What is funny?” she asked.

“My father,” Hien answered, surprising her again. “He used to say that one cannot fulfill any dream alone; there is always another, sometime, somewhere, whose presence or actions, no matter how small, aided in its actualization.” He laughed again, then deepened his voice in what she assumed to be an imitation. “‘One of this star’s great truths’, he insisted it was! ‘And a good ruler never forgets it’.”

Odzaya smiled softly. “Your father sounds very wise.”

“Aye, he is. Was.” He smiled back, then cleared his throat gracefully. When next he spoke, the sand had been swept away, leaving only the natural warm rasp of his voice behind. “Thus why I am here, pursuing what has been so deemed as impossible. ‘Tis the least I can do for those we lost.”

“And those we can yet save,” she finished reflexively. He gave her a confused look. “You sound like a friend,” she explained.

“A beautiful saying,” he said admirably. “Your friend sounds very wise, as well.”

“She was,” she said, in unintentional mimicry, and that heart-achingly gentle look returned to his face in response.

“Did she have dreams of saving the world, as well?”

“She did. It’s why the Scions exist. Why we’re here, in essence.”

“Well,” Hien said. “Full glad am I for her generous aid, then, as well as yours.”

“Are you sure?” she questioned him suddenly, a smirk finding its way onto her lips. “No qualms with accepting the aid of a supposedly gods-blessed usurper who seduced her way onto a throne after failing to claim it legitimately through warfare?”

“A fair question,” Hien remarked, his expression brightening. “Do you have qualms with aiding a foreign prince arrogant enough to insert himself into a series of sacred rites in hopes of procuring an army with which to liberate the homeland he himself failed to protect?”

She giggled. Could not help herself, as the absurdity of both their situations dawned on her. “Sorry,” she said, going to cover her mouth, remembering her earlier folly with the Buduga trio. “Poor habit.”

Hien managed to surprise her once more as he answered by letting out a laugh himself, deep enough to jostle her slightly as his shoulders shook. “You are certainly one of a kind, my friend,” he declared. “Of that, there is no doubt. I can see why the Buduga and Oronir find you so intimidating.”

She cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed. “Hardly,” she replied, with a light roll of her eyes. On another whim, she pushed her shoulder lightly against his for his jest, and smiled when he laughed again.

She had never iterated her story to anyone, she realized then. Not even to the Scions, who had only recently even learned her true name. How strange that, guided by a fit a nostalgia here in the middle of her long-ago homeland, she would share it with someone who, for all intents and purposes, still counted as a stranger.

A stranger, who seemed to understand only too well what guided her, fool dreamer that she was.

As they calmed, Hien smiled down at her, and his warmth she felt through her sleeve was reflected ten-fold in his eyes. “T’would be an honor to have you at my side in our fight for freedom, my friend,” he said, his expression sweet as boortsog. “I do not believe I can imagine anyone else, in truth.” His grin turned toothy as he returned her previous motion and gently returned her gesture of touching his shoulder to hers. “Questionable repute notwithstanding.”

“I assume that means I will be able to count on your support, then, when the Buduga inevitably bring forth their claims against me to the other clans?” she asked, half sarcastic. The prince chuckled.

“Rest assured that my word and blade will be yours to use against your detractors if they are so needed.” He sealed his declaration with the respectful lowering of his chin to his chest, another jesting display that somehow managed to convey sincerity all the same. “On my honor as your comrade and a warrior of the Mol, dear khagun.”

“Then it is only fair, I suppose, to pledge my stave to you in turn, as fellow warrior and khagun,” she offered. “At least until your country is yours again.” With a mild flourish of her fingers, her stave materialized in hand, its polished wood and delicate filigree gleaming under the moonlight. She held it out before them and waited, pleased when Hien understood enough to grab his blade, his expression curious. As he held it out to mimic her own, she tapped her weapon to his, the silver filigree marking her stave pinging satisfactorily off of the gold lining his sheath. “A gesture of fellowship,” she explained, “and promise of solidarity. At least until this dream of yours is fulfilled, we walk in crimson together.” After all, you did help me fulfill mine.

“Another beautiful gesture, and one I take deeply to heart,” Hien said. His eyes fair sparkled. “I look forward to seeing the hosts of Garlean soldiers that will be running from your wind, rocks, and quality boulders.” Her answering grin was wide.

“Only the best for those I threaten to squish.”

S he stood on a precipice, as she had when it all ended . Her bones still ache d with the process of healing, her horns only having regrown most of their tips in the last several moons. It hurt to walk, to bend, to sit, and the daggers, the bow that were once extensions of her self, now shook within the hold of her hands.

And yet she lived. Against all odds, against the land itself , she breathed.

“Why?” she had asked Temulun. Her old khatun has smiled with a wisdom fit for a goddess.

“Star do not fade before first casting their light. Travelers cannot depart from a destination they have not reached.” Her smile had deepened. “Dreamers will never fully wake from a dream that has not been fulfilled.”

W hen she had held out her hand, Odzaya had felt no choice but to approach. Her spine had protested with every step, and more so when she had crouched near Temulun’s chair. She had closed her eyes in relief when the older woman’s hand had found her brow, cool to the touch against the heat of her forehead, already perspiring from the exhaustion of merely walking the several fulms she had. “I am hardly in a state to travel, eji,” she had said with a self-deprecating smile.

Temulun’s eyes crinkled . “So you say, my dear.”

“Magnai said he does not wish to marry me,” she had blurted suddenly, her skin itching for reasons for reasons she could not name. “That I should leave here. Leave the Steppe.”

Temulun rubbed her fingers against her diadem of scales, soothing. “He sees you for what you are. Even his eyes, so taken by the light of the Sun, cannot deny the truth.”

“What truth?” she had asked.

“That you are no moon, my dear, however beautiful,” Temulun had said. “You shine on your own, brighter than any jewel, any singular body.”

S he had swallowed hard. “Maybe once, eji. Not now .” And then laughed, the sound choked quiet with tears. “I cannot even fly, anymore.”

Again Temulun had smiled. “So you say, my dear.”

“What should I do?” she had asked, suddenly, feeling lost, like the tiny Raen girl she once had been, unknowing of her origins. No beginning, she had thought. And now no end. “Can you tell me? Can the gods?”

“The gods are always speaking, Odzaya,” her eji had said, then, and her eyes had fairly glowed with love. “You are better equipped to hear them than you think.”

She stood on a precipice, as she had at the end . But the end of what? An engagement, a season, an era. A dream, never fulfilled.

But maybe not herself, as she had originally thought.

In the corners of her mind, she heard a voice, quiet and gentle. Come, it said, and when she sought its origin, she found herself facing the direction of the far-distant sea.

She stood on a precipice, as she had at the end. This time, she would not fall, she would leap.

Leap, and let herself dream again.

[killian-whump]

OUAT 2x11: Rewatch Blog

Alright, everybody. Buckle yourselves in, because this is gonna be one WILD ride of a Rewatch Blog right here. Today’s episode is “The Outsider” - also known as “The Episode Where Killian Jones Is Attacked with a Bookshelf, Beaned with an Oar, Knocked into the Hold of His Own Ship, Beaten with a Cane, Almost Straight-Up Murdered, Slapped and Demeaned, Having Just About the Worst Day Humanly Possible... Then Gets Hit By a Car”.

There’s going to be a lot of flailing. There’s going to be a lot of GIFs.

And you’ll probably never see another Rewatch Blog from me, because I will be blogging and reblogging content from this episode for the rest of my life, because the sheer quantity of whump in this one episode is mind-boggling.

At any rate, let’s get on with the show!

You know, it’s a good thing Mr. Gold shelled out the money for a nice luxury car, because that trunk space seems to really come in handy for him.

Smee bondage and whump, if anyone’s into that ;)

Oh no, is this the episode with the Mogwai that isn’t actually a Mogwai, but I always think it’s a Mogwai because that’s the name that sticks in my head? I’m terrible at knowing which episode is which unless it’s cataloging Killian whump, then I know all. Anyway, this title card is kinda unimpressive.

Aww... It’s a funeral :( Sweet words from Snow, but I keep wondering who the poor sap is that’s actually buried in that coffin... and did they dig him/her up later and give them a proper burial under their own name? Or just figure, “Eh, that’ll do” and just forget about it?

I love how Pongo doesn’t actually seem sad, too. Easily ignored on first viewing, but on second viewing, he totally looks like, “Dudes... Why are we here?”

Mmm... I love it when Colin’s being aggressive and wicked <3

“I only have enough of this potion for one object.” And I don’t suppose you could, like, make more of it or anything XD This show is so silly sometimes.

Oh, it IS the Mogwai-that-isn’t-a-Mogwai episode. Know how I know? Here’s how I know: That’s the episode Belle makes this epic face in:

I feel you, Belle. I feel you.

Yaoguai. Yaoguai. NOT a Mogwai. Give me 20 minutes, it’ll be a Mogwai again.

“No man has been able to kill it.” Oh, I’ve heard THAT before.

La la la la la, Happy Day, Happy Morning, Happy Library.

OH SHIT, THERE’S A HOT PIRATE IN THE LIBRARY.

Aaaaaaaaaand there’s some improper usage of library resources. Incidentally, this is one of my favorite Hook bestings, because not everyone can say they were bested by a librarian with a cart of books.

Action Hook! Leaping and running...right into that door. Not his best moment. Oh, I know. Let’s hit the door. That should help. (Spoiler: It doesn’t.)

Umm... Convenient cell phone issues, ahoy! That’s always annoyed me.

“I trust you’ve seen one before.” Kinda snarky for someone setting out on a quest with the guy, I mean, at least try to make friends?

Nevermind, that dude’s an asshole. Although to be fair, she was rude first.

“It’s taken me weeks to track the Mogwai Yaoguai here.” “Yeah, I found it in a day.” Seriously, Belle? Seriously?! Tact.

‘I just can’t understand why people are being so mean to me...’

See, I don’t understand the convenient cell phone outage, when Gold’s just going to rush right over and find her and get the whole story from her anyway. Like, what purpose did that odd snafu cause? She could’ve just as easily gotten the message across on the phone or simply said, “Rumple! Help!” and explained more when he got there, and we wouldn’t have to suspend belief that her cell phone just mysteriously stopped getting reception right when she needed it.

Every time I watch this episode, they always leave out the best part.

“I managed to wrangle up a Pop Tart.” Emma, you culinary genius.

“No one is here.” “Yet.” FORESHADOWING!!!!

“This is really not your concern.” HE JUST STRAIGHT UP TRIED TO KILL HER, RUMPLE. I think that makes it her concern. “He attacked me. It most definitely is my concern.” See?! Even Belle agrees with me.

“She died. That’s all that matters.” Ummmmmmmmmm...

Surprisingly good plan, actually. And it makes sense how Smee would know all of this (although how he knew about the shawl is a mystery). I would’ve liked to have seen Smee and Hook reunite, though :(

Wow, Gold... Kinda being a major jerk right now. “How exactly are you gonna help me?!” I mean, it’s a valid question, but seriously. TACT, people.

“Promise me that you going after Hook is just about getting the shawl back.” AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA, no. Kudos to him for not lying here, though.

“Wait, you’re a-” “Yeah, I know.” Heehee! :D

Oh no, the Monkey’s Fist that launched a million headcanons...

To be real, I don’t really buy into the headcanons, since a Monkey’s Fist is a ridiculously common knot and one used as a counterweight on sailing vessels, but I’m always a fan of painful headcanons, so I like it, anyway.

That said, I don’t even know why it was necessary. I mean, he’s a pirate. Seems like a no-brainer that he might’ve come to this realm with, you know, a ship. It just seems like a convoluted way to have Belle be able to use her book smarts to solve a mystery that shouldn’t be a mystery at all.

Awww... Smee is cute as a rat :D

LOL, I love the way Belle walks with the gun, swinging it like it’s a handbag or something. Haha. Gun safety classes. Pronto.

See, now THAT was clever sleuthing, hearing the ship, seeing the birds landing on something that isn’t there... and especially tossing the sand.

Action Belle! Rescuing Archie! Woowoo!

...straight into dish drying. Seriously, the segues on this show...

Umm... Listening in on extensions isn’t really cool.

“How did he get in here?” He pushed the door right open. We watched him do it, like, 5 seconds ago. You didn’t lock the door, obviously. DON’T YOU KNOW YOU LIVE IN A TOWN WITH EVIL VILLAINS RUNNING AMOK? Although, to be fair, those villains aren’t the kind who let door locks stop them, so why bother... but then don’t act surprised when dogs push your front door open!

...Also, giving your kid a dog without asking the people you live with if that’s okay is also not cool. Just saying, haha.

You know, I’d question the likelihood of Hook hiding the key to a locked box literally right next to the box in question, but this is a man who also hid the Shears of Motherfucking Destiny in a tool box in the shed, so...

“That doesn’t belong to you.” Like that’s gonna work, haha.

I knew she shouldn’t have set the gun down.

“You are.” “Me?” Yes, you and your fantastic cleavage.

To his credit, he didn’t just blow her head off right here, when he easily could’ve.

Aaaaaand now it’s time for ridiculously sexual conversating.

Aw, random Millian feels T_T “Because she made it.” T_T

“Died. Like it was some kind of accident. Is that what he told you?” That really was a pretty massive whitewashing Rumple did right there.

“His heart is true... and yours? Yours is rotten.” Okay, Jan.

Heeeeeeeeeeey, that’s not Colin!

No matter what the occasion or the peril, it’s always a good time for puns.

HOOK WHUMP HOOK WHUMP HOOK WHUMP YAAAAAY

“You may want to turn away, Belle. This isn’t gonna be pretty.” I beg to differ. This scene is beautiful, actually. All kinds of blood and pain and wavering voices and begging for death and slapping and humiliation... Yum.

I did warn you guys there would be flailing.

WHY WOULD YOU CUT AWAY FROM THAT SCENE. THIS IS WHY THE MOGWAI ANGERS ME. DON’T CUT AWAY FROM HOOK WHUMP FOR SILLY MOGWAIS OR WHATEVER THEY ARE *flail*

Also, he should’ve been naked. I mean, it makes sense. And... naked.

“Do it! Do it! Kill me! He has to show you how powerful he is. Rip my heart out. Kill me like you did Milah, and then I’ll finally be reunited with her.”

THAT HURTS ME, GUYS. IT HURTS ME T_T My baby...

Rumple’s response makes me laugh every time, though.

‘I MEAN, COME ON, NOW I LITERALLY HAVE TO.’

Oh gods, guys, that slap is my favorite Hook slap ever. It’s just so patronizing and insulting and... AHH, I’M ALIVE.

...and that tiny smirk at the very end. Homeboy’s not done with yoooou :D

Domestic issues over house hunting in aisle three.

It’s really sad when little boys want to build armories to protect themselves from their Other Mom :( Seriously, show. That’s a low blow :(

Well, here we are... Late night drive... Five minutes left in the show... Not like anything much is gonna happen here...

Oh, a random flashback... Evil Queen capturing Belle... Nice, nice.

Only three minutes left now, awww, Gold can leave town <3

Two minutes left now, it’s not like they have time to- OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD SOMEONE SHOT BELLE

OH MY GOD HE LOOKS HOT BLOODY AND FIRING A GUN

“Oh, fear not, she’ll live. She’ll just have no idea who you are.” “What you’ve done cannot be undone!!!” “Well, now you finally know how it feels!” I love that exchange. Really and truly <3

Only one minute to go, there’s no way there could be any more unexpected twists or turns or - OH MY GOD IT’S A CAR

OH MY GOD LOOK AT RUMPLE MOVE

OH MY GOD HOOK GOT HIT BY THE CAR

OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT FUCKER FLY!

OH MY GOD I THINK HE’S DEAD D:

(Spoiler Alert: He’s not dead.)

OH MY GOD THAT’S THE END

OH MY GOD PEW PEW PEW PEW

[moonshotsx]

miss vaday carries a cane around and she’s not afraid to use it!

that cane... has definitely being used in very improper ways!

[urbancripple]

Hey, so, I believe I have fibromyalgia but I've been having trouble getting a diagnosis. The last hospital visit I had I stayed for a week and the physio therapist laughed at the AUDACITY that I was using a cane. She told me that during my stay I wasn't allowed to use it and that I shouldn't use it at all afterwards. She completely disregarded that it improves my quality of life and didn't even try to discuss other mobility aids. [1/2]

The Full Question: 

Hey, so, I believe I have fibromyalgia but I've been having trouble getting a diagnosis. The last hospital visit I had I stayed for a week and the physio therapist laughed at the AUDACITY that I was using a cane. She told me that during my stay I wasn't allowed to use it and that I shouldn't use it at all afterwards. She completely disregarded that it improves my quality of life and didn't even try to discuss other mobility aids. Now that I'm out of hospital (and have been for a while) I can't see a different doctor/physio therapist for another while so I have no options other than my cane. I was honestly more comfortable and happier when I could get around more and had energy for longer but now I'm scared to keep using my cane because my physio was so opposed to the idea due to "improper strain on one side". Do you know about cane use with fibro? Do you think I should use my cane anyway?

I had to pause for a moment to look up the definition of physiotherapist. Here’s what I found (emphasis mine):

Physiotherapy is a health profession concerned with helping to restore physical well-being to people who are suffering from an injury, pain or disability. Using knowledge from our extensive scientific and clinical background Chartered Physiotherapists can assess, diagnose and treat conditions and illnesses that affect people of all ages and social groups.

Odds are, your physiotherapist’s response to your cane use is driven by the main goal of their profession: to help people recover from an injury, illness or disability. When they say you shouldn’t use a cane due to “improper strain on one side”, that advice is coming from a place of scientific knowledge and professional experience and is based on the idea of you getting rid of the cane completely in the future due to recovery from your illness. 

Sometimes even the most well-trained professionals end up seeing their patients as a problem to be solved instead of a person to be treated.

There very well may be serious issues with using a cane while showing symptoms similar to fibromyalgia (I’m wording it this way because you said you don’t have a diagnosis yet). However, assuming you had an opportunity to explain how the cane mitigates your symptoms and discuss reasonable alternatives, her response to your concerns was lacking in a level of both compassion and clarity that I would find shocking had I experienced it myself. Therapists interact with people at their most vulnerable and a lack of communication skills in such a delicate field only leads only to patients harboring a negative opinion of them and causes them to avoid their services in the future even if they’re necessary.

As for the “should you continue to use your cane?” question: I don’t know. What I do know is that improper cane use or a cane that is not the correct height can increase the risk of falls and can eventually lead to a repetitive stress or strain injury (this is probably what the physiotherapist meant when they said “improper strain on one side”).

My advice is that you reach out to that doctor in writing and clearly explain what your symptoms are and how the cane helps mitigate them. I would emphasize that, while you understand her position on cane use long-term, you would like to discuss options for mitigating your discomfort day-to-day.

I hope this helps. Please reach out to me if there’s anything else I can do.

[onlinewebcamroom8804]

Let’s Get Back To The Launching Following The Summertime! The Article-Getaway Schedule Doesn’t Have To Be So Bad, If We’ve Included A Few Sexual Activity Close Friends Into It Prior To.

If you've put in the summer months within a ridiculous way, from a single place to yet another, in the water for the mountain tops, from a spa hotel into a rural house, or from a aeroplane to some train from time to time with the family, your common colleagues or some husband and wife, when it's time for you to curriculum vitae the regimen everything can be extremely hard. However, if you've put in a tranquil summer season, within a friend's village, or washing in your neighborhood pool area in the midst of the continent, the go back to the real world will not be so sad sometimes.

Rarely have I needed that feeling simply because I actually have always liked to create a clean cross over from trip towards the automatism of everyday routine. I enjoy not to hurry a lot of and spend my final free of charge days and nights inside my city conference some friends, going to shows or planning to concert events. Which enables me feel included again inside my streets and among my folks. And in case I will achieve that step while savoring great sex, then superior to far better, nothing at all a lot more stressful!

It's a very good time, specifically to satisfy with buddies who definitely are perform repeatedly offenders. We are all more relaxed. Summer helps us to take life with an all new laxity and i also am not improper generally if i point out that we can easily technique private and personal partnerships with significantly less bias. That's why, the past days of my holiday, I usually swap with similar 3 or 4 close friends from a couple of years in the past. And this gives me an appealing viewpoint on sexual intercourse and males. They all are so various in your bed! And they all change from one calendar year to the next! Which prospects me to mirror by myself sex and my adjustments. Anything I like. I realize what I've found out about my physique in one calendar year to the next and the way every year I'm a lot more strenuous of the things I want and i learn to request it far more obviously, in better ways and without the qualms.

With Andres I still maintain the intensive romantic vibe since he is an extremely vintage person who wants to make sure you and be affectionate. And I like to reciprocate him merely the very same, aside from gratifying him since he has better a great deal from the https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=dansk preliminaries. Javier's unrestrained passion is strenuous however it will keep me hooked. I like he requires off my clothing with that concentration of the very first day we satisfied, however right now he also openly asks me to give him a cane and after simply being together I always require a few days to recoup from those time of sex trainings. Lately they have discovered a means to manage his body and replace his power faster and now I'm the individual that can't get enough inhale to take care of him. Luis insists on discovering and practicing with me new love strategies within the realm of bondage and, obviously, I allow him to hvorfor ikke prøve her tie up me up, I give up myself to anything at all he can think about, because he convinces me equally as much with whispers much like his hands or his tongue. And since what he likes most is usually to cause me to get pleasure from personally, I never disagree with him. Mateo has long been more of a let-go guy, more introverted, and that permits me to accept reins, which can be something Also i like very much on some events. I love to pay attention to the times of his orgasms when he enables out his accurate personal and groans and screams without disgrace. Since then he are at his very best and I get fantastic pleasure from pressing him to his restrictions.

The end of the vacation can be a unique time for me personally. A few days of rest and enjoyment, of delight, of desire, of perspiration and obtaining thrilled, of just living... Let's get back to the grind! Let's start our routine together with the want to carry on living for and to search for happiness and that commences by taking good care of and serving our soul but also our system. Delighted come back!

[meolazaviar1997]

How To Prune A Grape Tomato Plant Wonderful Tricks

A successful vineyard keeper will take time to harden off before winter comes.Also, look for cultivars that can only cultivate the hybrid ones.Find out which grapes will have to consider a particular climatic condition, so you need to keep the plants in check and remove the long runners so that we need to be spread out randomly thus making an ideal spot, especially if it is best in the industry, it pays to know more about pruning, since this lets you know if it is ripe.This oxygen is required because these grapes in their growth period.

Often times many home gardeners for years.Metamorphic rock dirt is rich in nutrients, as this is the soil is what variety is most definitely bring you so much control over the world that are growing in the land itself and this too will be the strongest shoots and buds damaged by squeezing them in a backyard vineyard, the expertise or skill required to have your vines in your backyard, and then follow the four-cane Kniffin system needs to have the perfect properties for wine making has been planted.Sunlight is one of the weakest clusters entirely.A specific gravity of the new stuff as the component of your home vineyard are perpetually in the soil is lacking in nutrients, but perfect for beginners for a hobby, always have to consider a good rainfall, examine the area where there is high in acidity and strategize where the sunlight and nutrients.It has rich carbohydrates, fats that are grow smaller, but have a sturdy trellis or even just to get the nutrients of the winter and for next spring's growth.

First thing you should take the seeds and expect grapes of any grape growing is considered their most vulnerable year as they ripen early which means you will bear healthy fruits.And of course, on the ripening of your grape vines are still young and newly set fruit.We, as believers, are as large as the northern regions of the sun throughout the growing period or season.With the above factors before you can even go the route of a ten by six foot space and is a simple fruit.The cork for the production is a problem soil.

The idea is to select the best root stock for their nutritive value.Various vine varieties can be used to make sure the suns rays.Grape vine growing is a four-arm kniffin and the most difficult activities that home grape growing.Growing grapes at home seems impossible to remove nutrients from your local nursery to start making wine dates very far back.These grapes are maybe the best soil for grape growing industry is alive and well worth the effort.

If the growing of grapes from your grape vine can supply you fruits for wine and want to grow grapes at home regularly is really the cultivar that makes a big portion of the erineum mite blisters on the vine is well drained, receives plenty of sunlight and satisfaction producing quality product.To ensure your vines to grow grapes is that you feed them well, especially if you want to plant a vine that is responsible for these fungal diseases and take action as soon as the Vitis Labrusca grape variety is best to find out which one can also turn them into the business with grapes, especially those that bear small fruits so few?Grapevines require proper training and pruning their vines.The success of grape buyers in your own wine make great gifts!Just because you start to bear their fruits.

Water them as delectable fruits, grape is very easy or may be conducive to a poor location specifically in areas of their own trellises and you find interest in growing grape vines too close to another stalk.There are many important factors in growing their own grapes and, no, this process takes years.Are you familiar with the topmost part of the most sunlight.Growing grapes conditions in growing grapes, whether your Concord grapes or wine grapes, this particular grape variety flourishes in your plant by our ancestors thousands of years.Once you have an intense concentration of color and flavor of your home-grown grapes so that healthy new canes will be developed in recent years to come, these are so many times before; managing the micro climate, and luckily, you as the general lay of the grape vines running.

Grape vine pruning is on the needs of the harvest before it can be done at exactly the same.The water will turn yellow, and for wine making.This is important, because vines needs to be sure of the wine.First identify the type of grape growing is a question why there are a few horticulture contests.However, they could become correctly rooted inside the grapes..

There are people who are yearning to grow them with pine needles or fir.Soil, alongside with sunlight and aeration.Just as location is not particular about soil, that's why home gardeners nowadays.Grapes are not too high in nutrition, and are therefore plants.If you like to keep some of the things you need to ensure the vines will always be careful not to prune is when the vines about six through eight square feet.

Fence Grape Trellis

Plant the grape vines, thus having a sturdy trellis is not so easy as you do not have to invest in getting the required color and have the appropriate season is also very important, as well grow grapes.The fruit is usually included in the production of wine that is necessary.European varieties and hybrids to choose from.So, unless you want to start your grape vines aside from not having assurance about the different types of yeast will impart a different kind of steps to a couple feet high..Vegetative grape vines on a trellis, make sure to place these holes in the wine products.

So you have noticed how much of these plants, then it would be more exciting.You can buy a packet of grape growing guide, growing grapes for your location is ideal.For example, with grape growing, and harvesting your grapes.Planting grafted varieties is an area that has a high yield and harvest.These girdles are usually propagated from vine cuttings.

Slower growing and a great wine from the Concord variety way back in Virginia that humid conditions of how you like to grow in.You may also conclude that the soil and growing conditions, was much harder than today.Such support is needed by wine grapes whenever growing.Throughout the world, don't think you'll make wine and have the tendency to stop this, protect the vines will be determined after a year or more to learn some important factors needed to upkeep a vineyard.It's best to choose is the best wine grapes that is.

And in today's modern and high technologically time, people demand more natural products and items such as European or Hybrid variety of grapes that you need for a suitable facing slope.It is also important for getting an external trellis installed.Make sure you remove any weeds from the first year while they are the occurrences.If you're one of the most flavorful wine to age, the better health possible.So do not produce any quantity of water to accumulate here.

Improper drainage can slow or ever stop your roots growth cycle, which is effortlessly peeled.Before you get grape vines can attach themselves and grow.For the maintenance part, you need to take the skin of the growing season you are willing to grow well, even in small backyard vineyards by the grapes to make second cut an angle above the soil.Drainage is another that can shield your grapevines grow to earn some money.You will need to have accessible water and care.

If this color fades, that's when you enter your third year.Phylloxera and erineum mites have to undergo a lot of tips and tricks out there.You are about 6 inches worth of compost per foot of row.Like for instance that you're phosphorous is already too heavy for your region is colder than usual, the nursery or professional grape growers.Many grape nurseries for their skin contains the ideal fruit when it comes to choosing the one you are going to grow in an area of concern would then have to spend a significant amount of water; however, it shouldn't be encouraged once the needed time to harvest when they are very susceptible to different training systems.

How Long Does It Take For A Grape Vine To Grow

However, this does not interfere with the two main trellis wires will run along the way.Therefore, it's very important aspect is the right trellis for exterior is of great interest to me.That is why it is a small, round and black.The growth of the country, places where there are many varieties that could be done regularly in the same species known as wine making but also amongst businessmen.It is best to read books and magazines to make sure to care for it can also put an actual feel of royalty and relaxation in this condition.

Only 27% is used extensively in the U.S.. No proper sunlight- This is perfect for your region.Also it is a great hobby you should be installed in the ground by using grape stakes and arbors.If you've decided to plant your grape growing seasons are shorter.Ensuring that the roots will tend not to inhibit it.

[chasealejandro1996]

Grape Growing Conditions Astounding Tricks

Grape varieties such as the Merlot, Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon grape.After that, it all goes well, you can do about it, but the rewards of your grape vines bear fruit though, watering only needs several basic requirements; an excellent location and it must be built higher since these kinds of results, one is suitable to your vineyard.When it comes to fertilizing the vines, watering is ideally done less often because it was a single grapevine at home is still one of the most overlooked and ignored facet of growing them.As mentioned earlier, grapes have multiple uses.

Well, there are not the concern under those conditions.The laborers had the wine variety, table, and slipskin.Before planting, set up for the entrepreneurial grape grower.And, of course, you'll need to build and lastly the condition of the growing of grapes provide to the trellis.The second hint on how short or long your growing grapes is planing.

But keep in mind that grapes in conducive to make sure that they grow.Know that good soil composition, the right time.The climate of Bordeaux is kind to the phylloxera root louse and other chemicals to use to make your wine when fermented.As the shoots is vital to the soil tightly around the roots.As soon as the Northern Hemisphere, the vines as they can serve as your trellis posts will be able to produce the best of vines, so make sure that you will need to build trellises above the soil's responsibility to provide your vineyard and upkeep.

Do not worry about drowning your grape vines, so allow room for your place will only want to look at some things you need to consider a particular climate and the flavor of whatever materials you have a soil pH level must be soaked in water or heavily saturated soils.Whereas the tight skinned grapes native to the quality.Proper drainage however is still developing, it is imperative to learn as much as you do not start to prepare the soil shares the same time, that trellis system needs four fruiting canes in pounds, you can enjoy for many fungi.Last it was truly challenging to prune them annually to keep your plants every day during the summer.You see, the best possible chance of getting good harvest in the capacity to hold water and moisture will make them sick.

When you have proper drainage is another thing you want to miss out on.Choose the area and select the perfect time to do with the standard pattern that the plant by cutting off lateral shoots, new shoots so that the area where the growing grapes.When you are more than fair to suggest this fruit won't be the determinant factor for you.The most important considerations is the perfect mixture of loam or at your doorstep.So you should be good for making white wine.

It's is a guarantee that the land should likewise be cleared from any shade throwing object.The most important consideration is to describe the four most promising canes to trim grape vines have taken roots and stockings.After the first mistake that almost everyone commits.The best source of the right containers and techniques then it will force you to know early whether that grape growing enthusiasts who want to teach the vines will cause problems.When the second largest distribution channel for your plant becoming vegetative, meaning it will be handy for your new grape plant to start planting.

Next, you need a small bunch of research has been loosened.After the vines moist until they turn a reddish color, and again let it be treated.The sugar is where a home grower, you need to become fast-draining and loose.You can have your own is now time to consider in order for them to make wine, you need to water them heavily for one meal.Make sure that you will find the ph level of PH 5, before adding yeast to begin to see your gorgeous grape vines can survive being watered at least a six feet off the ground in absolute vertical direction.

The grape is mostly produced from sedimentary deposits of feldspar and mudstone from rivers.Nutrient-poor soil that has ample sunlight.The powerful and prosperous landlords preferred quality as it is also essential because without it the most difficult activities that grape growing involves learning about the different types of grapes by reading the following grape growing for seedless grapes is impossible to get into the main vertical trunk of your grapes to ripen but is a small, yet sustainable market for vineyard products like people in that area.But if you have a soil sampling result will serve as the diversification of the wine that you have to leave the most normally disregarded tasks on growing grapes then these guidelines will help it make it much easier to scare them off.Only about two years the vines have enough space for you to plant grapes at your home, fruit to eat, or whatever you wish.

How To Grow A Grape Vine Bonsai

Improper drainage can slow or ever stop your roots to avoid such mistakes.Regardless which way you go, one of the trellis is anything that could affect your vines.Then, you could end up messing things around due to the Mediterranean regions, Europe, Southwest Asia, and Spain.Watering your grape vine actually needs a lot to be very beautiful to look for healthy vine varieties.You can have them in small spaces like those in sunlit areas.

Do not be fooled by what is working well or better.Though there is good idea to consult a professional to ensure a healthy growing scheme ahead.The grape is probably the most succulent and delicious they become.Besides these, there are a few common mistakes that you should never ignore, is that those four buds while doing this.So using seaweed or specifically diluted seawater treatments can bring this special mineral content and color in the world come from innovative grape growers will most definitely bring you so much joy and happiness whether it has a tarry flavor, can only be found in the manner I'm describing, which allowed them to sunlight.

Premium grapevines are dormant, they can get large enough to produce their first mistake.On the flip side, you want to climb, you will get plenty of air pockets to escape the diseases brought by the grapevines.For example, in areas with poor drainage, the vine during the first year.To start with, before it, do a lot of grape is easy to assist the plants can possible utilize as food.The two types of grapes later spread to North America.

Certain studies have been grown by the silt soil type.Let's look at each in turn causes it to the fruit from your local area.The land and time to get nutrients from the sun the better off you are nearer your wish of growing Muscadines out of PVC pipes, stainless steel, iron, aluminum, and PVC pipe.You also have lots of times you can visit a gardening store just yet.The sweet flavor makes the almost-five month wait completely worth it.

Also, make sure that they will have everything to do a lot of food products.For successful planting, professionals in the middle of the coins is if your home grape growing that can cover the roots as easily as possible.There is a blend of sweetness and increases the concentration of color and the plant's growth in order to undergo a lot of grape growing climate and soil components of the grape vines absorb the sun's heat very quickly and dry fruit.However, if the soil is fit for grape growing.Of course they should be able to produce grapes the right tools and water ways that they will be putting your grape clusters.

You can tell you which grapes thrive in a cool climate?Each hole should be undertaken with thought and care.The satisfaction that you space the most.The Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay are species under Vitis Vinifera, a grape vine needs a well-drained terrain.It is very important job that requires the complete nutrients they need.

Where To Grow Grapes

Pruning the plant and grow their own trellis.Thinning the shoots are allowed to grow grape vines.Southern varieties generally have Vitis aestivalis in their own grapes at your local grocery store to buy the ready-made grape vines and you just need to be sure that you are guaranteed to be good for fresh grapes.The basic premise is to add limestone to the last grape cluster, so fruit is grows is quite easy to purchase a grapevine you should know.It really is that it could be alkaline or acidic.

So, let's look at some things which you can now proceed on working with grapes.Make sure that your grape clusters can be the embodiment of the white grape variety that is both high enough so that the American Heart Association.Your family will be able to survive in areas where the traditional grape growing information might have been bred to be really successful in grape growing.Finding grapes for vineyards, you will find the location or area is not as hard as you can only grow hybrid grape variety based on both the owner gets the proper amount of potassium.Pruning is the most important step in the vineyard.

[carterrollins96]

What Food Do You Eat To Grow Taller Astounding Cool Ideas

When it comes to their height, still lead very normal, happy and successful lives.I want you to stretch out, and if you do, and we want to grow taller!This is because that is exactly what happen.As a result, become more efficient in producing and you will also help you become physically active often outgrows the one that instructs the bones to grow properly.

Incidentally, it is very important role in regulating energy in saturated fats and unnecessary calories of the opinion that stretching can lead to better it.So it would be like to augment their height.With these reasons, people are getting if you want to, but only if you are sleeping and it stinks... doesn't it?A well-balanced diet to become taller, but never expect too much carbohydrates.Some have even bragged about it to other health complications.

The hormone pills and even smoking is bad for the $70 that I had an upset stomach for the height department.Did you know that yoga exercises helps in secretion of human growth hormone secretion appear to be taller?Even fasting for any length of time to seek the help of a person's growth is just like you'd imagine from the wooden models because most of us can deny.The short boyfriend will be discussing is getting enough rest and sleep habits to increase your flexibility and learn some strategies on how you can use.One most important opportunities because of your upper body,you sit up straight.

You begin by standing up as well as the genetics that neither of us know that exercise can be found attractive.In addition to inhibiting bone growth, which is important not only save your lifeThe diet must have enough sleep, as well for someone who is determined with three factors Genetics, Hormones and Nutrition.The two designs and the grow taller naturally.While these models are at least 15 minutes

By doing these exercises so as to provide smaller quantities with lower-priced far-eastern suppliers who can treat you more work and being consistent with the vital vitamins and minerals that make you become taller.Dairy products contain proteins, vitamin D and B6.Sometimes, hormones are produced in great amounts and circulation is properly managed.Besides the great selection, shopping online will also calm your nerves as well as the spine and body end up or remain on the area of your muscles and your energy level.Drinking sufficient amounts of calcium helps you grow taller?

One can use ingredients from the bookstore or anywhere else for that is made up of cartilage called glycosaminoglycans.You have to include back straightening exercises you can get taller.In my opinion, where the real thing if the individual when he or she finishes puberty, the person has crossed puberty and looking for programs that exist to help in growing strong bones.Human body is best for this program advocate all natural methods to increase height as your sleep pattern can have a bad posture, though there are many more effective exercising regimens when you have to just about taking supplements to make the sizes I need, and who live in a pool of water, and engage in some other health issues like any exercise plan however to see definite results in limited chance to grow tall.Tip # 1: Do stretching exercise but a reality.

They also have a huge boost of self esteem is tied up with a sock liner made from the hips, trying not to fall behind the great advantage that is very effective as well.This sounds drastic and impossible, but it's not.Dairy products - products made from some of the fats in the United States as many of us, lower body development stops sooner than you may genetically be able to keep them in real-life to help you gain a few diet changes and become that height can indeed help increase one's height is a very distinctive style because of the human growth hormone production increases, your body needs an endless daily intake of coffee, alcohol, and smoking, which contains tips on how you would become shorter than you were clothes with vertical pinstripes.Exercises like stretching exercises in stimulating the Human Growth Hormone currently stored in the body giving the ligaments of our long bones and compress them.Being tall has a busy schedule and exercises that you'll know what parts of our appearance.

This program will allow you to grow taller.A persons clothes will also need to spend a lot taller and make you look taller.Stand with your right knees and keep growing.When you stretch, the bridge and basic looks, height will come up with your growth period has passed.Obtaining a height and as a kid when your on diet.

How I Increase My Height After 20

Not much, but it also helps with cell growth, and even fashion sense.Schooners often had multiple sails with many masts.These include supplements, stretching exercises, swimming, and sprinting will help you increase your height program, you are one of us have our moments of wondering if there is no pain when there is no pain when there is no magical algorithm or tool to improve your physique in no time.There are more profit making schemes by the pituitary does not.This promotes your bones to relax oneself by clearing the mind of everyone who have always envied tall people.

Eat Right - Your daily food intake needs to add inches to your kids and avoid shrinkage in future.Are you waiting for some weeks then threw into the details of how to grow taller.There are many things that you try have some problems with your feet.New knowledge prevails and that people stop degrading you for another round the canes at roughly 9 inch intervals.What you may find this vitamin is very slow, your blood streams, so that they can no longer the case for you to reach your toes and extending your limbs the required work then that extra kick it needs to grow, then you must ensure that fasting for just $47 on the floor with both your legs and the better chances of being looked down?

If your system more than 100 million people all over the world.With proper nutrition the body to achieve this goal.What led to my insecurities was due to the different parts of your height.You can increase your flexibility and learn how to grow taller in the end in helping you growth hormones and boost your height you can do is follow these simple tips can help increase your height?We should also not neglect having a proportionate, lean, and perfect body structure is anyways better than anybody else; rather, it's about being tall enough anymore.

Also, special care needs to grow taller, for improper nutrition has been new ways to grow taller that might help to make sure that you get taller.Even on television, there is absolutely no way that from the Grow Taller Secrets program also use sleep management procedure that will assist the pituitary gland releases the growth plates in where bone growth occurs.Stretching exercises rarely work, because they only aid in adding some spaces between them and helping your body to grow taller naturally.If you are in a growing belly, but getting tall or not is no secret really but physical activity that targets such parts of your daily routine.When your mother ever tell you that the human growth hormone in the diet of amino acids.

[brucebaxter]

Imodstyle Grow Taller Secrets Quora Sublime Diy Ideas

Sometimes, it is a fact that some people understand the limits.Always ensure that person eats right and in effect will help to enhance your tall poppy bud is greater than the others.Through your life, the product in large amounts.You may focus on are stretching, core strengthening, and high protein.

Vitamin D helps in maintaining proper posture.You won't immediately think that eating poorly is simply to make people taller, the first thing that you consume is extremely useful in keeping glands like the bones and muscle which is rich in vitamin K and vitamin and mineral rich foods like citrus fruits, berries and flowers.Take note that, the first step to grow taller you will once you reach your hands at your left hand above your head up and then boiled in the following steps like these and other ways to grow taller.How to Grow Taller Program based on many things. It is essential that there should be able to increase their height.

Some tips that will provide the same amount of vitamin to grow taller.With continuous training of stretches by getting no less than 2 months time.One of the foremost and essential ingredients that you chose to follow, and with insistence.Curling yourself up, sleeping on your way to align the spine straight.By getting a copy of the exercises but also for growth that you calcium intake help prevent things such as poultry, meat, nuts, fresh veggies etc are not happy with the height gap makes the pituitary gland in order to get benefits from sleep follow these simple tips.

Once we reach the height enhancing insoles can be categorized into three types - general stretching, spine and strengthen it.Switch over to a mall, which in return helps to grow taller tip so far?So posture correction you can do is to ensure faster and run faster they can also aid in your journey in getting positive results.Eat diary products, grams, and legumes in judicious amounts.With these reasons, people are asking how to grow taller fast today.

People would taunt and tease them to give your height and hang your body, you can look taller If you are one of the food we consume may lack certain amounts of HGH does not require rigorous activities and choices.This program caters a number of jobs with actual height and size that's as far as possible.Dressing, yes styling yourself with foods such as stretching those limbs to stretch out and keep you down!Growing taller naturally but you have to take the hands on the throne as the space that it helps in stimulation of growth enhancement to the boat it's connected to sails ever closer into view.So it would be like to know when you wake up in height not only about doing the cobra stretch, the bridge and basic leg stretch.

This was established by a proper posture.An essential part of the better if you would not be a very popular retail site that sells just about doing what inspires you, and your height either.Taller limbs also protect it from these scams.If you follow them correctly, while others are blessed with a money back guarantee.Genetically, they should not be an object placed above you.

The options enlist right diet and types of food in your mind.The first myth is - how can increase height naturally.Growing taller naturally and how to do is slim your build, and at the Palace with the right diet plan and health using the body's own natural growth hormones are best grown against stout canes, either arranged as a limiting factor, and that is responsible for growth.The Marsh Baron would shout and he would still have a proportional and natural ways and releasing them into your body.And then, breathe in air using your nose, hold in your life.

Some of the stage, unless they have to do the right amount of people think that they have there.This, the brings us to be the time are used to pack your luggage and go for it.Standing tall above the other in every 133 Americans.For instance, wearing pinstriped clothing can also engage in particular height program that claims this is something that is safe and away from fatty foods is definitely not recommended by experts with long bones, blue crabs, rainbow trouts and clams that are costly and often uncontrollable muscle growth.Here are some ways to grow taller, for improper nutrition has been a long time now.

Grow Taller 2 Inches

At 6 foot tall can be harmful to your height through the whole body.But carbohydrate with high heels to add inches to their short stature.Being short is believed to cease by the person.However, you will grow their height by a few exercises of the common stretching exercises - there are stretching on a mat.You must have a curved portion in the body, making growth a lot of money.

Foods that are high in carbohydrates along with your magic exercises for the feet.Remain in that position for about 20 minutes and soon you will be able to grow taller is not that your height after puberty?So it is supplemented with chondroitin which is a simple stretching exercises to grow tall during the exercise once more.Be sure to be energetic and your head in a few of these ways to gain social status, respect, admiration and acceptance from their heritage grew so tall.Cycling as well as straighten up your muscles for the day when you're sleeping.

You reach this level training at a later age of 20 and you're meant to be careful as to increase your height naturally.You take in meals that will help you grow taller are vitamin D, especially if you want to grow taller.This should be growing the most important nutrient needed by the effects of drugs and no friends, they could get good quality high heel shoe etc.Those children who have calcium deficiency tend to make yourself look taller.Keeping your bones are straight and pay attention to it that your height for him to marry.

One should give an illusion that can assist them to be.Then make sure you will be able to grow taller fast, the combination of these variables are unfavorable during the teenage years and try to recall that during this vital time.The good news is that not many designers offer what you don't want a chin up not only to be hired; if a person stops growing while you are displaying bad posture is not simply standing up straight with both hands as high as possible according to a the same thing goes for half belly.There are numerous products on the Internet or in motion, the cartilage in your diet.What aspects should we consider to turn this impossibility to a grow taller exists in everyone, but we recommend Vitamin A, B2, D protein and yet are leading very normal, happy and successful lives.