#Julie of the Wolves Treasury

[bones-n-bookles]

Julie of the Wolves Treasury, by Jean Craighead George

Contains Julie of the Wolves (1972, illustrated by John Schoenherr), Julie (1994, illustrated by Wendell Minor), and Julie's Wolf Pack (1997, illustrated by Wendell Minor) all in one book! It contains all of the same art of the individual books I believe, but I don't currently have an individual copy of Julie of the Wolves so can't verify that.

[gaycocksmodels64]

KFM Special 8 - P2 Pine Bluff

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[swan-archive]

welcome to another thrilling episode of “hey uh swan? literally NOBODY asked”! on the menu for tonight: wereham Reynolds affair. thanks to Hannah @the-everqueen for making this anything even vaguely approaching postable, sorry i’m like this, no i’m not sure why it keeps happening, enjoy maybe, etc.

(general warnings for sexual content, infidelity, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, and dubious consent apply.)

It’s been about a week since Eliza, Angelica, and the puppies packed up and headed for Albany.

Or, well: it’s been eight days, thirteen hours, and six minutes. Not that Alexander has been counting.

(Seven minutes.)

(...Okay, he’s been counting.)

He stayed behind for a reason, he reminds himself several times a day. The country needs this plan, won’t sustain itself for long without wrangling its finances back into working order after the chaos of the war. Alex isn’t the kind of person to slap a bunch of sloppy, unrealistic policies together, call them sufficient, and expect Congress to shrug and approve them; no, this is a good plan, one that he’s been hashing out in notes and letters and essays and drafts for years. One that would work. And yet, somehow, somehow (he thinks of Madison’s soft, convincing murmur, Jefferson’s smirking drawl, and curls his lip), the damn thing’s stalled in the House, stonewalled by a bunch of whining Southerners who don’t understand the concept of national interests. 

Figure it out, Alexander, Washington had said, and Alex is the Secretary of the Treasury, this is his job, this is his responsibility, so he’d lowered his tail and bowed his head and said yessir, gone home and holed up in his office and sent out the first of the letters pushing for a reconsideration on the matter of assumption that very evening.

That was back at the end of winter. It’s July. Still no movement on the plan, aside from a couple hard-bought, tepid ehh, maybes.

So, no, he does not have the time to spare just now to go on a vacation. Not even if the whole family’s gone. Not even if he’s been tempted with descriptions of the grounds of Eliza’s parents’ home, spacious and secluded, plenty of room for a wolf and his growing pack of puppies to stretch their legs and explore. Not even if he hasn’t had a quiet night in with Eliza in ages, has spent even his wolf days poring over economics texts that he knows by heart, on the off chance he’ll stumble across the perfect point to convince his detractors.

Not even if (and his heart clenches painfully to think of it) Angelica is back from England. Bright-eyed, brilliant Angelica, who tears into his writing with a ferocity no one else has ever matched, who can match him point for point in any debate, who even an ocean away always seemed to vibrate on the same wavelength as Alex. Angelica, who, in the handful of days she’d been in their home, had left Alex lying awake at night, her words thundering in his ears and her smile dancing before his eyes and the memory of her fingertips brushing casual against the back of his paw burning, burning in him... 

Alex growls and balls up another substandard draft without bothering to let the ink dry first, shoves it to the edge of his desk where it falls down onto the floor. Heel, boy, that’s your wife’s sister you’re talking about. If he’s going to be like this, maybe it’s a good thing they’re all out of the house. Keep him out of trouble, give him some peace and quiet to work in.

And that thought makes him whine so loudly he can’t help but chase the noise with a slightly hysterical laugh. 

Funny to think that he’d used to pride himself on his independence, on his ability to shrug off little things like loneliness and too much silence and an empty bed in service of his goals. Not anymore; he’s a pack animal to his marrow, now, used to a den full of pups and his mate there to hold him as they both drift off to sleep. No matter how he rationalizes, he comes home to his empty home night after night and finds the first panicky thought in his head is they’ve left me. They’ve left me, and they’re never coming back. It’s truly pathetic, but he’s taken to bringing a blanket from the nursery with him to bed at night, curling up with it and with Eliza’s pillow in his arms or between his paws so when he wakes up in the morning he can smell them all, pretend for a second that he’s surrounded by his little pack and not alone, alone, horribly alone.

And that leaves him here, eight days, thirteen hours, and seventeen minutes without his pack, holed up in his office, laboring over yet another letter to a damned fence-sitting Congressman who will probably end up doing nothing more than exchanging a few meaningless notes with Alex before politely refusing his—

(“Compromises,” Eliza would call them, complete with air quotes, reading over his drafts with a faintly exasperated air. You have to give something in order to get something, Alexander.

Don’t you think I know that? he’d challenge her. Would you have me cut my entire plan to ribbons to get one bloody Congressman on my side? It works because it’s a whole, Eliza, they have to see that, unless they’re fools, and if they’re fools then I ought to be able to convince them...

Tell me, brother dear, have you ever made a compromise in your life? Angelica would quip, because you sound to me like a man very out of his depth. Would you like me to write your letters? I’m sure I could get your plan through to Congress in a quarter of the time it’d take you to manage it.

No, no, I’m an honest man, I’ll not have them accusing me of hiring a ghostwriter to do my work, he’d say with a grin. Save for at full moon. But then I’ve no thumbs, so I have no choice, really.

And then Angelica would roll her eyes fondly, and Eliza would laugh and lay a kiss to the side of his muzzle, and then the puppies would burst into the room at the sound of their laughter, and he’d lift little Jamie to his shoulder, and tousle Angie’s curls, and they’d all go down to supper together...)

There’s a knock at the door.

Eliza, he thinks instantly, leaping from his chair, frustration and self-pity forgotten. He throws open his office door and fairly sprints for the stairs. Eliza’s home, she changed her mind and came back to me, thank God, she’s back, they’re back, they’re all back. 

He’s halfway down the stairs before his mind catches up with him, clears its throat and murmurs that Eliza has a key, surely she wouldn’t need to knock to be let in, and even if she did she wouldn’t stand on the front step scuffing her toes nervously against the ground like she’s not meant to be there. And, if it were Eliza, she wouldn’t have come without the littlest pups, and he can’t hear any of them. Alex cocks his head, takes the last few steps with a cautious tread. So, not Eliza. Then who...?

He opens the door, and the woman on the front step jumps. There’s a shawl drawn up over her head and face, concealing her features, and her wavy brown hair conceals more, but there’s no mistaking the new-coin gold of her eyes, or the scent of animal musk she gives off. Another wolf. A strange wolf. The hackles that have just grown in over his shoulders bristle automatically, intruder in my territory not my family not my pack. But—no, Alex, calm down, he thinks, she doesn’t mean any harm, the cast of her ears under her shawl and her shrinking posture all crying out no threat. They’re civilized people. He can control himself.

“Can I help you, madam?” Alex asks, once he’s tamed his voice back down to a reasonable tenor and not a snarl. The other wolf straightens up with a quickness, as if remembering what shape she’s in.

“Secretary...um, Mr. Hamilton?” she says, a bit muffled by the fabric covering her mouth. 

“That’s me.”

“I—I don’t mean to bother you at home, sir, I know this must be—irregular, but would it be possible, might we have a word?”

“I’m sorry, have we met?” says Alex. He moves forward and sniffs, but no, doesn’t recognize that scent, and he would certainly remember another bitten wolf if he’d run across one in his social circles. She sounds young, as well, too young for a colleague’s wife.

“No, no, I—you don’t know me,” she says, a hint of keep-away growl in her voice at Alex leaning into her personal space. She coughs to damp it down, smooths her skirt down behind over the stir of her tail.

“Then, if I might ask...”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she interrupts. “Forgive me, Mr. Hamilton, I wouldn’t have—but I know, I’ve heard you’re a man of honor, a charitable man. That you’re sympathetic to, well...people in need.” She pauses for a moment, shakes her head like that phrase is an annoying fly she’d like to shoo away, but pushes on. “And I thought, maybe you’d understand, you’re like—that is, you’re a—”

She trails off, looks at Alex a little desperately. You’re like me. You’re a werewolf. A stir of pity in his breast. Yes, maybe he would understand. He knows something of how humans and fullblooded wolves treat their kind. And he’s terribly busy, really ought to get back to his work, but he has to admit, the prospect of focusing his efforts on something different is appealing right now. Something that he can actually resolve. Ride in on a white horse and help the lady in need, and go back to his work later bolstered by the victory under his belt. He makes up his mind.

“Perhaps we ought to continue this conversation inside?” he says. He holds the door open, gestures gallantly. The other wolf gives him a wary glance, but steps over the threshold, her clawed fingers working at a fold of her skirt. She raises her head to the unfamiliar smells of the house, looks about the foyer. Alex can’t resist the urge to circle around her curiously, still sniffing. Faint smell of cheap perfume, of one—no, two—other wolves. Her pack?

“You needn’t keep that thing on,” he says at last.

“Sorry?”

“Your shawl, Miss...?”

“Reynolds. Maria Reynolds.” She pauses, then adds, rather grudgingly, “And it’s Mrs., actually.”

“Oh, excuse me. Mrs. Reynolds. But you can still—I mean.” Alex laughs. “We’re all wolves here, aren’t we? You don’t have to cover up like that. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He gestures at his own face with a wry grin, wags his tail slow at his little joke. Maria doesn’t seem to find that funny; Alex sees her nose wrinkle, just above the edge of her shawl. She unwraps it anyway, though, settles it about her shoulders and shakes her hair out. 

They’re coming up on half moon, not a particularly flattering time for a bitten werewolf. Both of them are saddled with ugly, skewed features, noses stretched out too long and lips thinning over pointed teeth and dark fur beginning to sprout on cheek and forehead. Maria tugs a lock of hair down over the side of her face, self-conscious, but it’s obvious to Alex that she must be a great beauty when she’s human. Heart-shaped face and full lips, he thinks, soft tan skin still showing in places under her patchy fur. Prettier than he is, any time of the moon, and he chuckles to himself again at that.

A glint of irritation shows through the nervousness on Maria’s face, and her ears twitch as though she’d like to flatten them out to the sides, come on, stop fucking around, I didn’t come here to get smarmed at. 

Fair enough. “So. What was it you needed my help with, madam?”

Maria swallows hard and becomes very focused on the hem of her skirts. Pretty red dress, flattering, even at this time of the moon, but slightly out-of-fashion, like something saved from several summers ago.

“It’s my husband,” she forces out at last. “He’s—you were an officer, back during the war, perhaps you knew him, James, James Reynolds? He served in the commissary department for a time. His father too.”

“I’m afraid I don’t…”

“It’s, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter. I just thought you might—not that it’s relevant at all, but—oh, Lord.” Her ears droop tragically, and she ducks her head, tongue-tied. Poor girl.

“Please, Mrs. Reynolds,” Alex says, dropping his chin and lowering his eyelids soothingly, “It’s all right, but I don’t understand—your husband, he’s in trouble?”

“In trouble? Ha.” Maria smiles humorlessly at that. “He is the trouble.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he’s a…that is to say, he hasn’t…behaved toward me as a gentleman ought,” she says with excruciating delicacy. Worry, worry, worry, her fingers at her skirt again like to wear a hole in the fabric.

Flash of memory: Maman, years and years and years ago, caught in a candid mood. Sometimes, petit, marriages are not happy things. When I left Johann, and your half-brother, it was not on a whim, but—because he didn’t treat me as a husband should treat his wife. And I couldn’t live that way any longer. 

Alex had been a smart child. He’d been able to piece together the gaps in the story from Maman’s odd comments and the disputes he’d heard of around the neighborhood and, when he could bear to listen, from the gossip swirling around his mother’s name. So. Hasn’t behaved as he should. Lots of implications there, none of them good.

Hard to find the words to respond to those implications, too. “I—Mrs. Reynolds…”

Maria takes his hesitation for disbelief, though, and hastens to add, “I mean to say, what I mean is—it’s not, I wouldn’t have come to you with a trifle, sir, please believe me, I can handle the odd argument. But he disrespects me, he brings women home and doesn’t even bother to hide it and lets them make a madhouse of our place. Staggers home drunk with them every night. And the things he says to me when he’s been drinking, oh, Mr. Hamilton, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, terrible, vile things—I’ve feared for my life, some nights, the way he talks. And then, when he started to—when he…” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head hard, but can’t keep her hands still. They flutter about, ghosting from ribs to shoulder to cheekbone, her touch careful, so careful.

Maria notices him noticing. She presses the pads of her fingers against her face, deliberately, trying for nonchalant, but her whiskers twitch once with discomfort.

“Anyway—I’ll spare you the gory details, shall I?” Maria says, with harsh, affected sarcasm. “He—he beats me. On top of everything else. And, well, there’s not much I can do about that, is there? You know.”

Alex nods, a burning knot rising up in his throat. Oh, he does know. One slip for creatures like them and then it’s mad wolf, and after that the muzzles and manacles and silver chains. So easy to pin blame on a thing, just because you don’t like the look of its face, just because it did what any animal in a trap would do and snapped at its captor.

And here comes another unpleasant flicker of memory. Eight years old, lying in bed with the covers drawn up over his head, trying his best to ignore the raised voices from downstairs. They cut off with a stinging slap that makes him clutch at his own cheek. Nothing to say to that, next morning, to the bruise on Maman’s face. Nothing to say to it now.

Just because there’s nothing to say doesn’t mean Alex can stand to stay silent, though, so, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Reynolds,” he tries, rather weakly.

“I’ve borne it as long as I could,” she continues, as if he hadn’t spoken at all, “really, I have, I know I’m not, that I can’t help being remiss in my duties as a wife, and if it were just me, I’d’ve never bothered you, but, you see...” For the first time in their conversation, some of Maria’s nervous prickliness melts away, and her voice is almost gentle as she continues, “I’ve a little girl. Susanna. She’s just six. My pride and joy. I couldn’t leave her with—him—I just couldn’t—but she’s another mouth to feed and we’re staying in a boarding-house and that’s no place for a child, it’s simply not—”

“A boarding-house? You mean you can’t even stay in the same house with him?”

“No, that’s just it, he’s broken with us. He’s gone and left me. Left me, and my little girl, and is living with another woman, put us out of our own house and left us with next to nothing, all because I’m a—”

“Because you’re a bitten wolf,” Alex says grimly.

She nods, and digs her fangs into her lip, and grits out, with an obvious effort, “So. You see. I had nowhere else to turn. And I know you have a family of your own, sir. But if you had anything, anything at all you could spare, just enough to, to get us out of the city, to find us somewhere else to stay, even…” Her voice breaks, wavers with an ugly, hurting whine. Her eyes very wide and shining.

“Oh, Mrs. Reynolds—here, please, take this.”

Maria makes a soft whimper—the only sound at her disposal at the moment—and snatches the handkerchief out of his hand. Buries her face in it, half-turning away from him. Alex thinks about reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder, maybe nosing at her in a gesture of gentle canine reassurance. No, probably too forward. Must be something else he can do to make her stop crying.

“This…husband of yours,” he says after a moment. “He wouldn’t happen to be human, would he?”

“N-no. No. Wolf. Born to it.”

“Hah. Shame. I’d’ve offered to give him a bite of his own, if he were. Teach him something about empathy, eh? I could still mess him around a bit, if you think it’d be any help, I could take a born wolf it it came to that…” 

Maria lets out a wet little cough and shakes her head. “Th-thank you, Mr. Hamilton, but I just…I want to be rid of him. I never want to have to think of him again. That’s all.”

“Of course. Of course.” Stupid, Alex, you stupid brute, he snarls at himself, twisting a cuff button between his fingers. First that idiotic apology, and now this? Some help you are to this poor girl. He’s too keyed, that’s what it is, he’s not thinking straight. All those uncomfortable recollections, and Maria sobbing silently into his handkerchief, and behind it all his plan still nudging at the back of his brain. Pull it together. Focus. Make yourself useful, and the rest will fall into place. Should fall into place. He clears his throat.

“Mrs. Reynolds?” He brushes his fingertips against the back of her hand. Soft fur there, muted tickle against his callused paw pads. “I’m terribly sorry to leave you alone, but would you mind if I ran and fetched something? It’ll only take a moment. I won’t be gone long.”

Maria bobs her head, makes a muffled noise of assent into the handkerchief. Good enough for Alex, and he turns and heads back upstairs.

Probably a stupid idea to leave a strange wolf alone in his home, unsupervised, but Alex can’t bring himself to care much as he throws open his office door and walks over to his desk. He pulls out a drawer, rifles through it for his checkbook. Habit of squirreling cash away in the bank whenever he thinks to do it: throwback to those lean years of his childhood, coins in a box under his bed, insurance against the next inevitable disaster. What’re you saving up for, Eliza always asks, what do you think’s going to happen to us? Think you’re going to get run over by a carriage on your way home from work?

Just for a rainy day, he’ll reply, or you never know what life will throw at you. The reasonable part of his brain stills his hand on the quill. Yeah, you never do know what life will throw at you, it says archly, like—losing your job if you can’t get your plan past Congress, perhaps? Remember Eliza, remember the puppies, remember what happens if you fail. 

And he does, he does, that specter hasn’t given him a moment’s peace in months, but Maria’s right downstairs. Maria has a puppy too. She’s playing against high stakes, just like Alex, but with no one at all in her corner.

She’d looked so lost. So very helpless.

He won’t fail, he thinks, pushing back against caution. He’s never failed before, not in an arena like this, and he’s not about to start now. He’ll manage things in the end. So he can afford to show a little charity.

He scrawls a number on the check, blots it quick. Thirty dollars. That should be enough, right? Enough to get one wolf and her pup somewhere safe. You have a family, gasps his reason, thirty dollars, you gonna buy this girl a horse of her own to ride out of Philly in style, or—

Okay, so maybe more than a little charity. But whose business is it what he does with his own money, anyway? He crumples the blotter paper savagely and tosses it amongst his discarded letter drafts. He’s Secretary of the fucking Treasury. There are much worse things he could do with his cash than hand it off to someone down on her luck. Before he can scare himself out of it, he seizes his quill and slashes his signature down in the margin. 

There. No going back now. He’s helping.

Flapping the paper to dry it, he hurries back downstairs. Maria’s standing there waiting for him in the middle of the room, still as a statue but for her hands twisting his handkerchief, the fur on her face scrubbed clean and dry. You’d never know she’d been crying, just a few minutes ago.

“I’d like you to have this, Mrs. Reynolds. I only hope it’ll help,” he says, crossing the short distance to her and pushing the check into her hands. “Get your little girl a safer place to sleep.” Maria flips it over, scans it. Her eyes widen, and her ears perk straight up with shock.

“I—oh—Mr. Hamilton…” Maria tilts her head down and peers at his writing over the too-long bridge of her nose, as though sure she must have misread his writing. “This is—thank you—oh—” 

“Please, don’t mention it,” Alex says, with a wave of his hand, warm glow of done-something-right settling over him. It feels good to be generous, feels like winning. Maria clutching the check so hard it crumples, her claws in danger of punching straight through the paper. Must not have been expecting such a gift. Poor girl.

Alex pats her on the arm, feels the trembling tension of inhuman strength there. “You put that somewhere safe, now,” he says solicitously. “Wouldn’t want someone taking it from you on your way home. In fact, I’d be happy to walk you back to your lodgings, if you like. It’s coming on night, no time for a lady to be out on the streets by herself.”

It’s a whimsical, even silly offer—what kind of fool would try to jump a werewolf at night, lady or not?—but Maria colors up under her fur and lowers her eyes and says, “That would be...I’d appreciate that, sir, thank you.”

“Of course, Mrs. Reynolds. If you’ll just give me a moment to fetch my coat…”

Maria’s destination turns out to be a boarding-house not two blocks from Alex’s own front door, barely far enough to be called a walk. Alex goes slow, enjoying the sultry evening, the sounds and smells of the city, his tail up at a cheerful angle and swishing back and forth. Maria is more subdued, her hand resting chastely on his offered arm and her shawl drawn back up over her muzzle. Both of them panting a little with the lingering heat in the air.

Maria catches herself, puts her hand over her mouth in embarrassment, even though her face is covered. “Excuse me, Mr. Hamilton,” she says, “it’s—reflex, you know how it is, it’s terribly uncouth of me though, I’m sorry—”

“No, please don’t worry,” he replies, licking his own chops with good humor. “The weather really is intolerable in this city. I can’t remember New York ever getting so hot in the summer.”

“Me either,” says Maria, “must have been the ocean breeze, or—” She stops abruptly, almost guiltily, and hitches her shawl up her muzzle. Clears her throat. Says nothing, and they walk on a ways without speaking.

“You’ve spent time in New York, then?” Alex asks after a minute, to fill the awkward silence. Maria glances up at him out of the corner of her eye, cagey, as if trying to judge whether he’s earned an answer to that question. Exhausting, that constant vigilance, and trying to rub away the sharp edges of it a little, he continues, “I studied law there, when I first got to America. King’s. You know King’s?”

“Of course I do,” Maria almost snaps. Her hand on his arm twitches, and then she appears to regroup, lowers her chin in submission, takes a breath as if to steady her voice. “Um. Yes, I—I grew up in New York. Born and bred, actually.” Her eyes soften, a flicker of that human beauty of hers showing through again. “My parents still live there. My sister.”

“That’s nice. You go back and see them much?”

Alex can practically feel the shockwave as Maria’s walls slam up again. “No,” she says, the word grinding against a growl in her throat that she tries and fails to soften with a harsh laugh. “No, James has never been much of a fan of unnecessary expenses, like hiring a coach just to visit a family who doesn’t even—well. So, no. I haven’t seen them since we came to Philadelphia.”

Alex bites back the question that wants to slip between his teeth, which is are you sure you don’t want me to tear this guy’s throat out? Might be better for all of them if he did just that. “Do you miss them?” he asks instead.

“Of course, but...well. It’s not—it’s complicated. I wasn’t seeing them much anyway, not after, after...” Alex recognizes that tone, that reluctance, has heard it in his own voice plenty of times. After the accident, she means, after the bite. “They like to see Susy, at least. Liked to. She’s a sweet pup, a pretty little girl. Easy to be around.” Bitter note there. Not like me.

“I’m sure she’s perfectly charming.” Alex flashes a doggy grin at her. “Like her mother.”

Maria snorts, gives Alex another sidelong look. Glances back down at her toes. “Anyway. I like New York summers. Liked. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to handle them now, either. Who knows.”

Interesting. Alex picks at the timeline forming in his brain. Bitten before she came to Philly, left New York quick enough to miss the changing of the seasons. Family back there who know her daughter, knew Maria herself after she was changed, for a little while. And then, wistful—would he be able to bear a Christiansted summer, now, if he were sent back there?

Maria’s fingers squeeze his wrist lightly. Must’ve caught the thoughtful cast to his ears. Clever thing, paying attention. He folds his free hand over hers, and she tenses. Face unreadable under the shawl. “I hope we get a good storm to break this heat, soon,” is all she says.

“Hope so,” he agrees. Almost imagines he can sense it building in the air right now, a barely tangible frisson between the two of them. The corners of Maria’s eyes crinkle in what might be a smile.

The boarding-house, when they reach it, is a shabby little place, dark weathered wood and tiny windows that dim the already weak evening light, knots of customers muttering to each other and glancing around suspiciously in the foyer and common room. Alex insists on walking Maria up to her quarters and seeing her safe inside, watches her shrug off her shawl and bustle around the room. She removes his folded check from her pocket and tucks it safely inside a drawer before busying herself lighting candles. Nondescript space she’s got here, stuffy with the heat, musty mildew smell in a few corners, but there are small stabs here and there at making it livable. A clumsily-stitched, brightly-colored quilt thrown over the threadbare bed. A fat red poppy starting to wilt in a chipped glass bottle on the windowsill. Half-mended dress, or petticoat, or shift, stuffed hastily into a basket next to the nightstand.

Something very obviously missing.

“Your daughter?” Alex asks, his ears twitching as though he’ll hear her hiding under the bed, or perhaps behind the curtain.

“With an acquaintance, for the evening. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be, well, out. She’s safe where she is, for now. I’ll go and fetch her soon.” Maria shifts the candle on the nightstand, so the light catches gold on her eyes. Shadows dancing on the line of her muzzle, the soft curve of her lower lip. “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Hamilton?”

Alex looks at the spindly little chairs up against the near wall. “I suppose—sure. Why not. Just for a moment,” he says, and tucks his tail alongside his leg to sit more comfortably. A taut flicker of smile crosses Maria’s face, and she saunters over, lowers herself into the second chair. Cocks her head at him, all charm. The light blurs her human features, so for a moment it’s simply a wolf in a red dress blinking at him. With the dim light and close warmth and wolf-smell, he could almost be in a den.

“I just wanted to thank you properly for your generosity, Mr. Hamilton,” she says. She smooths her skirts, the same slightly crumpled blood-shade as the poppy’s petals. The hem brushes the toe of Alex’s shoe. “It’s—what you’ve done for me—for us—” She pauses, then, quite deliberate: “If there’s anything at all I can do to repay you for your kindness…”

“Please don’t, Mrs. Reynolds. Please. You don’t owe me a thing.”

“Don’t I?”

“It’s enough to have spent the evening in the company of a young woman like yourself.” And where did that come from? He looks at Maria for any sign of offense, but she doesn’t growl or recoil or reprimand him. Just sits there, worrying her skirts again. A strange sharpness in her eyes, he’d almost call it fear, but of what? Nothing to be afraid of, surely not while he’s here.

This heat is making him crazy. He lets out a gruff half-bark, shaking his head in the stagnant air. Candlelight shining red through his eyelids when he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Mr. Hamilton?”

“I…I ought to head back home,” Alex says. Makes no move to stand.

“Someone waiting for you?”

“No. No.” Alex manages a weak grin. “Just. Lots to do. Lots of work.” Important work, crucial work, he knows, but an unaccountable surge of irritation wells up in him at the thought of it, so he sits there, his leg jittering a little with nervous energy. Just a few seconds more, up here in the half-light, lingering in the smells of candle smoke and fur, and then he should go—he should—he will—

“You don’t need to leave,” Maria says suddenly. “You could stay. For a bit. If you wanted.”  She lays a hand on his knee, ghosts it up his thigh.

Alex jumps. Burning sensation on his skin, under the fabric, under the fur, like she’d struck him with a red-hot poker. “Mrs. Reynolds—”

“Maria,” she interrupts. She presses her lips together for a moment, looking at her own hand on his leg like she can’t quite believe it’s there, but she collects herself. Bears down enough for claws to sting. She meets Alex’s eyes, hesitation gone. “You can call me Maria.”

“I—” Alex says. Stops. I shouldn’t, I couldn’t, I won't caught in his throat. Yes, he should refuse her. He’s a taken man. He has children. A pack. A life that would not benefit from a liaison with a married woman. He should go now—

—back to his empty home, with only scent-phantoms to keep him company. Back to Congressional deadlock and the sneers of Jefferson’s faction. No one to offer a new perspective on the tail-chasing circle of his thoughts, no one to commiserate, no one to stroke his ears and hold him close and tell him that his hard work will be worth it in the end.

And there’s a warm body here in front of him, warm and soft and she smells so good, oh, nothing like Eliza or Angelica but she smells like wanting and she smells like wildness and she smells like mate.

And he’s alone.

Almost before he knows what he’s doing, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers.

They’re neither of them shaped quite right for it; their noses bump together and Alex's fangs catch on her lower lip and she makes a little noise and they both freeze for a long awful moment. No no no no no no echoes in his ears, as if screamed from a long way off, but he feels velvet of just-grown fur under his fingertips and someone else’s breath against his lips so he surges up to her again, and she softens to his touch.

And then he’s kissing another werewolf, and the only thing strange about it is that he’s never done it before. Wrong, the angles of her face under his hands, not human, but his must be too, and she hasn’t pushed him away, and she isn’t pushing him away. Fireworks going off behind his eyes, want and hungry and mate in little flashes of animal frenzy. Feels raw and new and intoxicating. He’s sure he must have been wanted before, by someone, but he can’t seem to remember when or by who—

Maria ends the kiss, ducking her head, unexpectedly coy. Her curls fall in her face. Alex pushes them back. Tilts her chin up. She trembles, but wrinkles her nose slightly, meets his eyes. Alex thrills at that. A challenge. Let him work for it. He’d always been a flirt, even after the bite—he can convince. With words, or not.

“You’re very beautiful, Maria,” he says.

Maria barks sharply. Not even pretending to be a laugh. Yeah, tell me another one.

“You are, though.” He traces a claw down the line of her neck, over the downy fur just appearing there. Strokes his thumb over her collarbone. “Do you not hear that much? You should. You should have someone to tell you that every day...” Like Eliza does for you, murmurs a voice in his head, like your perfect, wonderful, loving, faithful wife does for you. Remember her?

Yes, but Eliza isn’t here, he thinks. And I’m so lonely.

It’s not too late. You can still say no. Can still walk away.

Alex leans forward and sets his teeth against Maria’s skin. Bites down but gently, not enough to really hurt, not enough to draw blood. Still a revelation. No teeth with Eliza, too much of a risk, what if he pushed too hard, then she’d be cursed like him, spoiled, a monster.

But Maria’s already—and the taste, the taste—

Maria shivers, and her hands come up to rest against Alex’s hair. He lays his cheek against the pulse in her neck, under the faint marks of his teeth. Quick frightened flutter, a bird he’d flushed from the underbrush on a full moon hunt. He would like to sink his teeth all the way in, still the beating wings and consume, predator triumphant. Settles for whining and licking a long stripe up Maria’s bared throat. Animal. Doesn’t matter. We’re all wolves here, aren’t we? 

She looks down at him, and he realizes he’s left his chair, fallen to his knees before her. She is beautiful, really is, in a way that only another wolf could recognize, another creature, someone like him. Soft and sharp in turns, long white fangs and loose dark curls. Delicious dichotomy. Those eyes gleaming like candlelight in a fever dream. Golden, golden, and he pushes his hand up under the hem of her red, red dress, her body twisted with the wolf-change but so is his, neither of them human so it’s all right, isn’t it, it’s all right. He can touch. He can—

“Mr. Hamilton,” she says, and he freezes, his hand flinching away from her thigh. Thank God, he thinks, yes, give me an excuse, make me stop and I’ll go and we’ll never speak of this again, and��no, no, please, let me give this to you, let me keep going, I thought you wanted me, I need it, I need it. He whimpers softly in confusion. Maria rises from her chair; Alex crawls backward on hands and knees, still looking up at her, half-expecting a kick or a cuff. Bad dog. Go to your kennel and think about what you’ve done.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she repeats. Her tone bizarrely cool, makes no sense with the heat in the air, the heat under his skin, and she’d panted too, earlier, just like him, she must be able to feel it the same.

“Alex,” he says, hoarsely, stupidly, because even now, he has to say something. “It’s Alex.”

Maria walks to the bed and perches herself on the edge. Maria draws her skirts up over her knees, over her thighs. Maria regards Alex, and Alex breathes in the warm musk of her from across the room. Counts his heartbeats, and after seven of them, she crooks a finger at him. Come, boy.

Crass.

But Alex does, eventually.

[mhsn033]

PM Boris Johnson claims virus response shows ‘might of UK union’

Image copyright PA Media

Image caption Mr Johnson will head north of the border to trace the one-year anniversary of taking space of job as high minister

The response to the coronavirus pandemic has shown the “sheer may perhaps perhaps perhaps perhaps” of the UK union, Boris Johnson has mentioned sooner than a confer with to Scotland.

Nevertheless the SNP mentioned the high minister’s confer with showed he changed into “in a fright” about rising beef up for Scots independence.

Mr Johnson would maybe be in Scotland on Thursday to fulfill native participants of the defense pressure and their families.

He mentioned troops had accomplished “vital work” to beef up the NHS at some stage in the pandemic and praised Treasury job retention schemes.

Scotland’s First Minister Nicola Sturgeon mentioned she had no plans to fulfill Mr Johnson at some stage in his confer with, nonetheless mentioned she would continue work along with his govt on the “instantaneous precedence” of tackling coronavirus.

Mr Johnson’s confer with comes on the one-year anniversary of him taking space of job as UK high minister.

He mentioned he had “pledged to be a high minister for each and every nook of the UK”, and mentioned the response to the pandemic had shown his govt’s dedication to your entire of the UK.

He mentioned: “The final six months contain shown precisely why the ancient and heartfelt bond that ties the four countries of our country together is so vital and the sheer may perhaps perhaps perhaps perhaps of our union has been proven over again.

“In Scotland, the UK’s stunning defense pressure had been on the ground doing vital work to beef up the NHS, from organising and running mobile checking out sites to airlifting severely in melancholy health sufferers to hospitals from about a of Scotland’s most faraway communities.

“And the UK Treasury stepped in to connect the roles of a Third of Scotland’s entire group and saved the wolves at bay for tens of thousands of Scottish corporations.

“Extra than ever, this reveals what we can produce after we stand together, as one United Kingdom.”

Image copyright Reuters

Image caption Nicola Sturgeon mentioned she changed into “persistently chuffed to fulfill the high minister”

Though your entire of the UK entered lockdown in the an identical week, each and every constituent piece has eased restrictions in a clear system and at a clear rate.

Section 3 of Scotland’s route scheme out of lockdown started final week, as pubs, ingesting places, hairdressers and barbers had been allowed to reopen.

Drinking places, pubs and cafes had been allowed to reopen in England since 4 July, along with holiday accommodation – at the side of motels, B&Bs, cottages, campsites and caravan parks.

Hairdressers contain moreover reopened, as contain libraries, community centres, bingo halls, cinemas, museums, galleries, funfairs and theme parks, kid’s play parks and amusement arcades.

Official soccer has moreover resumed in the serve of closed doors.

Native pattern

Mr Johnson is moreover to place out vital facets of a £50m funding package for Orkney, Shetland and the Western Isles, the most up-to-date in a series of “metropolis and living affords” which look the Scottish and UK governments each and every pledge cash to diversified areas for spending on unusual infrastructure and native pattern schemes.

The Scottish govt is moreover committing £50m to the “Islands enhance deal”, that may perhaps perhaps perhaps perhaps target sectors at the side of tourism, vitality and abilities.

At Top Minister’s Questions about Wednesday, the SNP’s Westminster leader Ian Blackford mentioned Mr Johnson changed into visiting due to recent polls suggesting beef up for independence changed into on the upward push.

He mentioned: “The previous day the Tory social gathering held a political cupboard with the high minister in a fright relating to the majority in growing beef up for Scottish independence. It appears their enormous technique amounts to extra UK cupboard ministers coming to Scotland.

“Can I remark the high minister – the extra Scotland sees of this UK govt, the extra pleased they’re the want for Scotland’s independence.”

Mr Blackford’s comments echoed a humorous narrative Ms Sturgeon had posted on Twitter, suggesting that Mr Johnson visiting Scotland would quantity to a birthday recent for her.

At her coronavirus briefing on Wednesday, the first minister mentioned she had “no plans” to fulfill Mr Johnson on at the moment time out, nonetheless is “persistently chuffed to fulfill the high minister if he needs to produce so”.

She added: “We’re all very centered on the instantaneous precedence of continuing to suppress Covid and I sit down up for working with the UK govt on that basis.

“We now contain got our political disagreements, and disagreements over facets of Scotland and the UK’s future, and I’m certain we are going to continue to chat about those constructively as successfully.”

Ms Sturgeon has previously advised that her govt’s response to the pandemic changed into serving to convince Scots of the deserves of independence.

In an interview with Scotland on Sunday marking her 50th birthday, she mentioned: “As we contain stopped shouting about independence, and shouting to ourselves about how we mosey about getting independence, and ravishing centered on [dealing with the crisis] – it has allowed other folks to steal a step serve and advise ‘successfully in fact that’s the finest thing about self adequate choice-making’ and moreover ‘perhaps issues would be greater if we had a bit of extra self adequate choice-making,’ and to come serve to their dangle conclusions.”

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[sidhewrites]

Corianer Outline of Events

All is subject to change without warning. But this is how it goes more or less. Feel free to send messages either in ask box or IMs about the plot if you have questions.

Knittelnau

Coriander meets Jasper, a travelling Wright in Knittelnau in April.

Coriander’s hometown in the wilds of Cresce, population <300, surrounded by farms and fields of wildflowers

Wright: One capable of magic. Not extremely rare, but uncommon. Denoted by specifically shaded green eyes with gold flecks. Limited to one element or aspect of magic per wight.

Jasper helps her with chores and errands.

Coriander helps her mother prepare dinner for the party with mother’s friends

Jasper joins Annie in the fields around Knittelnau the next day

Jasper invites himself to dinner that night. It’s very awkward.

Jasper gets Annie to Ride a horse -- and then gets that horse to race out into the wilds outside of Knittelnau before getting it to take her back. And then he says hey why don’t you come with me as a travelling companion, i’m lonely and besides you can buy your mom a dress from the town nearby that has a river running thru it so you can get fancy imports. Bestina very reluctantly agrees.

anyway i don't know hwo to go about that i think he chose her a) bc she's in an abusive space and wanted to get her out and b) he’s impulsive and doesn’t think things through. I don’t know if he knows ahead of time about the pure of heart thing.

The Wilds

Maybe two weeks of camping. Coriander learns to cook. She loves it.

Wolves attack, but Jasper bravely defends her with magic, getting wounded in the process. Coriander knows basic medical aid and gets a few herbs for a poultice and bandages his wounds.

They’re at the next town over, and he gets them rooms at an inn where a party is going on to celebrate the engagement of the innkeep’s daughter. It’s a party and she gets roped into dancing but she panics and starts to cry and runs out. Jasper who was nowhere near her was still keeping a close eye on her and follows her out and apologizes and offers to escort her up to her room. Coriander blushing furiously like, propriety man cmon, but she does wanna go to bed. Also she relishes getting the chance to bathe again.

He tells her about how he came from threston, not ninoom, which is a northwest trading port and he could only go from threston to a port in ninoom since it’s forbidden to go to berall without an invitation. Hints at a bad life but doesn’t elaborate, instead avoiding it with talk of stories and fairy tales, and eventually admits he’s planning on stealing the Hollow Ring from Berall

A magical artifact made by the Sylph to grant immortality if wielded by a pure soul (Actyually the wielder needs to give up their soul for the other but hey. U know. He doesn’t know that)

It belongs to the high elves in Sterea, the capital of the country to the north. Jasper wants to return the ring to the elves.

Berall: The queen’s city and capital of Cresce, no-one enters without an invitation

They are about to turn back while he;s scrounging for a way to keep her going w him so there’s a circus coming by!! Fancy that! And he lies and says they’re travelling west so coriander is like Fine, we’ll go w them.

Join the circus which is travelling to Berall under the guise of a Performing Wight and his servant

It’s 2 weeks past and coriander is excited seeing them perform and bonds w laureline, but she’s constantly worried about getting home

They see a deep red, opalescent dragon shot out of the sky in the distance by a massive arrow, far far to the north over the mountains of Nashoth

They celebrate beltane with the circus and a farming town just a few days travel from berall. Coriander helps with the preparations and jasper wows everyone with his magic, and Coriander dances with Laureline, a dancer from Ninoom, the southern middle-east coded country

Berall -- May.

Arriving at Berall, where they see a procession for Queen Lillian pass by

Queen Lillian recently ascended the throne a year ago, after her mother’s death. She is barely 18, young and intelligent and wants to see the world, but has never been allowed outside of the Queen’s city.

Lillian has magic that allows her to see people’s True Hearts, which is why she is trusted with the throne at such a young age. 

Coriander is allowed to wander freely and get food and supplies while Jasper works on his plan and figures out the guard’s schedules. Preparations for midsummer are going on, and Coriander is thrilled to see the excitement, even if it’s over a month away.

She meets a disguised Queen Lillian, who is excited to hear an adventurer’s stories, invites her to the palace for a bath, proper food, and tea.

Coriander tells Lillian about what little of the world she’s seen so far, and promises to write every chance she gets on her adventure.

That night, the circus performs. Coriander watches from the sidelines in awe, wishing she could do something spectacular herself

Next day spent mostly watching the ocean and ships because she’s never seen it before.

That night -- stealing the Hollow Ring. Coriander is used as bait. The guards find her, and Jasper is unable to save her before she’s dragged off to the dungeons.

The punishment for breaking into the queen’s treasury ofc is beheading.

Next day spent in prison. Jasper visits and promises to save her. 

Two days with no word from jasper, dragged off to the execution block. At the last minute, Jasper makes a daring rescue. He breaks into a small house, which turns out to be the Queen’s Townhouse, and Annie weeps with relief.

Lillian senses the hollow ring has a certain wretched aura about it and while she doesn’t like it, jasper has managed to steal the ring from under her nose and leave a fake in return. Maybe has to send someone after them to catch them and bring the ring back ???????? Maybe she like, helps them escape with it but also has to make it seem like idk man i need to rework this part

The Wilds Again to Nashoth, the Dwarven city.

Jasper reveals to Coriander he did steal the ring on the way to Nashoth. They get two days into the two week trip to nashoth, before guards arrive and jasper needs to cloak them with magic. The guards (what guards as i even thinking of here) are sensing magic however so they have to hide and travel only by night.

The mountains are too dangerous to cross on foot, but the Dwarves have always granted safe passage underneath to those who pay for it.

Queen Mor who needs a new name greets them all and is a v motherly figure to coriander. She has a glorious beard.

Except now there’s a dragon in their main hall/treasury, so nobody’s passing through.

Solomon the dragon, a white, opalescent firedrake from the northwest was in the wrong place at the wrong time

Dragon eggs are extremely rare, and his sister had lain a supposedly dead egg a century ago, but it’s finally starting to hatch and he needs to visit her.

If they can convince the dragon to leave, they can pass through freely and be outfitted with gear. Jasper, ofc, throws Coriander to the wolves aka “She can talk to the dragon and make him leave!”

Coriander convinces Solomon to talk with her because she smells like flowers and isn’t rude, and winds up helping him by removing the 6ft arrow in his wing and healing the wound. They become friends, and she talks him down from the idea of getting revenge against the elf who shot him. “Fine he promises. I won’t hunt down my attacker.” 

I think solomon comments that coriander has green in her eyes. It’s the first time she learns and she tudies her reflection a bit. (Jasper knew from the start but assumed she knew and didn’t say so himself)

This takes almost a month, turning it to July.

Solomon leaves to complete his trip south, then go home.

The wilds (again)

July To August, travelling the last month into the Elf kingdom of Gaelgallah.

Arrival in Gaelgallah

The most direct path to Sterea is through a few large cities but they don’t want to risk it with a few wanted posters around the country looking for Jasper and Annie. So they take side roads and wilds

They stop in a small farming village similar to Knittelnau that reminds Coriander of home. There, they celebrate the Harvest Season with a festival and a tourney that Jasper participates in

Just before reaching Sterea, they have the first snowfall.

??? stuff happens??maybe a few smaller character building moments, and/or forshadowing for the rest of the story ie: why Jasper took her or the Hollow?

Sterea!

They are escorted by the kingsguard to the capital city, which is GORGEOUS and snow filled. Jasper is almost unable to enter since that’s what he’s been trying to do for years. And now it’s here.

They’re received with celebration and reverence because Coriander’s new reputation as the Dragon Healer precedes her, even above the berall news.

At the feast, Coriander meets Iriral, known Dragonslayer, pursues Coriander romantically despite her lack of interest. (she’s ace!!) he’s not put off by her uncertainty, but he’s polite and does value her friendship. just doesn’t pick up on things whoops.

Mylene, captain of the queen’s royal guard, offers to teach annie to wield a sword and while she agrees, she has difficulty with it and doesn’t enjoy it.

???? something? Maybe something with the Dragonslayer? 

Jasper returns the ring to the king and queen, and offer immortality and all eyes are on Annie

Jasper explains to her that you need a pure soul to wield it. The elves correct him -- not just to wield it, but to give up the years they have left so Jasper could take hers and achieve a longer life span. Not pure immortality -- he has to keep doing it every 80-100 years or so to get more years. He didn’t know that and doesn’t want to hurt annie but he also doesn’t know how to give up on his dream so he looks to her at lets her decide.

She’s incredibly hurt, and doesn’t much feel like celebrating anymore, knowing it isn’t inconcievable to him for her to sacrifice herself and that he’d even ask her to do it, indrectly or not. Spends the rest of her time training with Mylene, the other champion knight, and learning to ride horses and use a shield.

ALSO TO QUESTION: Is that why the elves gave it to the humans, who couldn’t wield it, and they didn’t want people to be killed? Or was it just stolen from the elves hundreds of years ago? [[if it was stolen away has anyone used it to gain immortality? Is there any threat if someone has? Could the elves reverse that?]]

After the celebrations, Coriander refuses a permanent place in Sterea and wants to return home before the winter hits the village. So she’s given a horse and rides home with a single guard, stopping to greet the Dwarves

Queen Mor  who needs a new name of the dwarves welcomes her with a feast, new clothes, and jewels for her hair. She rejects the jewels, in favor of flowers, and learns a dwarven dance in her two day visit and an old song, and becomes a proper friend to the dwarves. She’s given a wrist brace at least, made of dwarven silver (some version of mitrhil tbh) and one of solomon’s shed scales that can deflect any blow. -

Back in Knittelnau - Late October into November.

Bestina, who genuinely mourned her daughter, very quickly falls into old habits and it becomes stifling and difficult

Coriander only barely stops Ma from cutting her hair off, facing a wall of verbal abuse and invalidation for it but now she can stand up for herself.

OR DOES SHE GET IT CUT OFF and hates it and realizes how much she loved how long her hair had grown. (The length of her entire arm in less than a year! Maybe there is some magic in her after all.)

(there is. Surprise. Just not a lot. Never a lot)

Helps with the winter preparations, but feels stifled.

Irial Shows up to tell her that a dragon is attacking Sterea and burning the forests and they need her to help. He puts her on his horse, who can travel faster than the wind and they get to Sterea in a matter of days. She stops them to pick some wild chervil. It’s important even if he doesn’t believe her. 

Sterea (Again)

Gaelgallah is burning. People have been displaced. Farms destroyed. A great opalescent drake flies above Sterea, burning everything.

Annie is given a sword and shield by Mylene, but she rejects it, and instead climbs to the tallest tower, and raises the flowers high in the air

Solomon stops, and goes to find her. She points out all the people he’s hurting, all the death he’s causing. He says elves can’t die, but doesn’t realize all the humans around the country instead, and all the flowers he’s killed, and the two dragon eggs being incubated in the Sterea Palace

He agrees to leave, and makes to fly away but the wind made by his wings destroys the already crumbling tower and annie falls to her death. Last thing she sees is solomon trying to save her.

ooh or does she fall before he agrees to leave

Hyla Lea.

A floating island of permanent late spring between Life and Death where the Sylph Lives. Sylph is basically the top god in the pantheon

Coriander wakes up under a sea of stars in a field of flowers. It isn’t the middle of winter, but late spring. It’s warm and pleasant and a breeze is blowing.

The sylph appears and tells her all that’s transpired

All who touch the hollow ring have their fates hidden from Fate after they touch it, and since she remembered fate’s flower in Knittelnau, he took a liking to her and followed her maybe? 

Solomon retreated to his home thinking he killed Annie

Jasper has been crying and hasn’t left Annie’s side since he found her in the rubble

Irial is mourning privately, and has vowed to slay Solomon

The Dwarven Queen finally leaves Nashoth for the first time in centuries to aid the elves in repairing Sterea

The city mourns for coriander.

She is taken around Hyla Lea to see the goldstone palace, the (Castle in the Sky Robots) Guardians, etc, and tells Coriander the choice she has

Stay in Hyla Lea as the Sylph’s companion (something few mortals have ever been offered) or return to the world of the living. If she leaves, however, she can’t return and will be sent to the Hollow if she dies. A few mortals have accepted the offer before and greet her but it’s mostly sylph and annie

Hollow: A pale, misty reflection of the world of the living, but no wind blows, nothing grows and you can’t see more than 20-40 feet away. There are other wanderers but it’s unlikely to find anyone as you wander eternity.

Coriander chooses to return, because she hasn’t seen nearly enouhg of the world to be done with it yet.

Back in Sterea

She awakens to find Jasper at her bedside. He begs her for forgiveness, and vows to do everything he can to make ammends

She doesn’t forgive Jasper, but gives him the chance to atone over time. She has to go to find solomon.

Before she goes, the Elf Queen says that Solomon can MAYBE return, if he comes with her only and comes in peace, and find a way to make repairs for the damage on both ends

So she takes Jasper and Irial, who wants to keep her safe as well, and they start off into the Dragon Lands to find solomon together the end.

[kayceeks]

The King’s Ransom - Young Knights of the Round Table

The King’s Ransom, book 1 of Young Knights of the Round Table

Three Friends. Three Quests. Three Mysterious Predictions In medieval Wales, eleven-year-old Prince Gavin, thirteen-year-old orphan Philip, and fifteen-year-old blacksmith's apprentice Bryan are brought together in friendship by one they call the Wild Man. When an advisor to the king is killed and a jewelled medallion is stolen from the king's treasury, the Wild Man is accused of the theft and murder. Filled with disbelief at the arrest of the Wild Man, the three friends embark upon a knight's quest to save their friend's life. To succeed, the three must confront their fears and insecurities, and one of them will have to disclose the biggest secret of all.

Amazon

Prince Gavin

Gavin’s gaze was drawn back to the castle’s battle-scarred walls and the heavily armed guards. The evil emanating from the structure surrounded and held him captive, like a lone deer surrounded by hungry wolves in the dead of winter, unable to move, its eyes glassy with fear, its limbs frozen by the hypnotic gleam of the wolves’ yellow eyes. Even knowing its life was ending, the deer wouldn’t break and run. So Gavin sat frozen in front of the castle.

The enormity of his quest enveloped Gavin and he sighed. Continuing on meant he might save the Wild Man, but he might put himself in danger as well. King Edward was his father’s enemy and possibly responsible for Aldred’s murder. If Gavin were caught, Edward wouldn’t treat him kindly. The young prince summoned his courage and focused on the Wild Man. It had seemed so simple last night in the company of Bryan and Philip.

Bryan

The air inside the blacksmith shop lay dense and heavy, making it difficult to breathe for any who ventured inside. The fire from the forge still burned red hot, even though the bellows hadn’t fanned the embers in some time. Sixteen-year-old Bryan submersed the newly formed sword into a cold bucket of water. Steam enveloped him, adding to the sweat already streaming down his face. With his free arm, he wiped his forehead and pushed back his soaked red hair.

The blacksmith, James, watched intently as Bryan Balyard lifted the sword out of the water, its blade cooler but still hot to the touch. Holding the sword in front of him, Bryan sighted down the blade’s edge as he’d been taught. Straight and flat, just as it should be. He made a few short cuts to check its balance. It responded well to his moves. Bryan handed the sword to James for approval. After checking its weight and doing a closer inspection of the craftsmanship, James nodded.

“You’re getting better. This weapon is good enough for a knight of the Round Table.”

Bryan beamed, his eyes reddened and watering from the smoke.

“I haven’t an order from any of Arthur’s knights, so make this your own.”

Bryan’s lower jaw dropped.

“Mine?” he forced out.

Philip

The late afternoon sun still held the day’s heat. Philip set the ax down and wiped his brow before getting a drink of water. Looking at the stack of chopped wood, he smiled sadly. Two years ago he would never have dreamed he’d be here, chopping wood for food and a dry place to sleep. He shook his head at his thoughts, his shaggy, ill-cut black hair falling unevenly across his forehead. Two years. It seemed like forever.

Two years earlier, he had lived with his parents and baby brother on their small farm up north. His parents worked hard to put food on the table and to pay off the farm. Philip’s main job was to watch baby Benjamin while his mother helped his father in their small field. When Benjamin fell sick, Philip helped his father clear the old stalks and rocks from the soil while his mother nursed the baby. He helped his father carefully plant the winter wheat and barley for harvest in the spring.

As autumn slipped into winter, Benjamin hadn’t gotten better. His tiny body burned with fever. Those last few days when Philip held him, the heat coming from Benjamin threatened to slowly engulf him like the embers of a dying fire.

Then one day, the heat drained from Benjamin’s body, and cold took its place. Philip didn’t understand at first why his mother and father cried. For days they’d waited for the fever to leave, and finally it had. Then he noticed the stillness of Benjamin’s body. His small chest didn’t rise and fall; he wasn’t breathing. Along with the heat, life had also left the tiny body.

Book Sound Track for Guinevere: At the Dawn of Legend, book 2 and The King’s Ransom, book 1 of Young Knights of the Round Table.

Stand By Me by Ben E. King

Fight Song by Rachel Platten

I’ll Be There For You by The Rembrands

B.B.B.F.F. (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Float On by Modest Mouse

Learning to Fly (Brave) by Tom Petty

Learn Me Right (Brave) by Mumford & Sons, Feat Birdy

Touch The Sky (Brave) by Julie Fowlis

AUTHOR BIO I am a retired high school English teacher. A devourer of books growing up, my profession introduced me to writings and authors from times long past. Through my studies and teaching, I fell in love with the Ancient and Medieval Worlds. Now, I hope to inspire young readers and those Young-at-Heart to read more through my Tales & Legends for Reluctant Readers set in these worlds.

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[postcardreader]

The King’s Ransom - Young Knights of the Round Table

The King’s Ransom, book 1 of Young Knights of the Round Table

Three Friends. Three Quests. Three Mysterious Predictions In medieval Wales, eleven-year-old Prince Gavin, thirteen-year-old orphan Philip, and fifteen-year-old blacksmith's apprentice Bryan are brought together in friendship by one they call the Wild Man. When an advisor to the king is killed and a jewelled medallion is stolen from the king's treasury, the Wild Man is accused of the theft and murder. Filled with disbelief at the arrest of the Wild Man, the three friends embark upon a knight's quest to save their friend's life. To succeed, the three must confront their fears and insecurities, and one of them will have to disclose the biggest secret of all.

Amazon

Prince Gavin

Gavin’s gaze was drawn back to the castle’s battle-scarred walls and the heavily armed guards. The evil emanating from the structure surrounded and held him captive, like a lone deer surrounded by hungry wolves in the dead of winter, unable to move, its eyes glassy with fear, its limbs frozen by the hypnotic gleam of the wolves’ yellow eyes. Even knowing its life was ending, the deer wouldn’t break and run. So Gavin sat frozen in front of the castle.

The enormity of his quest enveloped Gavin and he sighed. Continuing on meant he might save the Wild Man, but he might put himself in danger as well. King Edward was his father’s enemy and possibly responsible for Aldred’s murder. If Gavin were caught, Edward wouldn’t treat him kindly. The young prince summoned his courage and focused on the Wild Man. It had seemed so simple last night in the company of Bryan and Philip.

Bryan

The air inside the blacksmith shop lay dense and heavy, making it difficult to breathe for any who ventured inside. The fire from the forge still burned red hot, even though the bellows hadn’t fanned the embers in some time. Sixteen-year-old Bryan submersed the newly formed sword into a cold bucket of water. Steam enveloped him, adding to the sweat already streaming down his face. With his free arm, he wiped his forehead and pushed back his soaked red hair.

The blacksmith, James, watched intently as Bryan Balyard lifted the sword out of the water, its blade cooler but still hot to the touch. Holding the sword in front of him, Bryan sighted down the blade’s edge as he’d been taught. Straight and flat, just as it should be. He made a few short cuts to check its balance. It responded well to his moves. Bryan handed the sword to James for approval. After checking its weight and doing a closer inspection of the craftsmanship, James nodded.

“You’re getting better. This weapon is good enough for a knight of the Round Table.”

Bryan beamed, his eyes reddened and watering from the smoke.

“I haven’t an order from any of Arthur’s knights, so make this your own.”

Bryan’s lower jaw dropped.

“Mine?” he forced out.

Philip

The late afternoon sun still held the day’s heat. Philip set the ax down and wiped his brow before getting a drink of water. Looking at the stack of chopped wood, he smiled sadly. Two years ago he would never have dreamed he’d be here, chopping wood for food and a dry place to sleep. He shook his head at his thoughts, his shaggy, ill-cut black hair falling unevenly across his forehead. Two years. It seemed like forever.

Two years earlier, he had lived with his parents and baby brother on their small farm up north. His parents worked hard to put food on the table and to pay off the farm. Philip’s main job was to watch baby Benjamin while his mother helped his father in their small field. When Benjamin fell sick, Philip helped his father clear the old stalks and rocks from the soil while his mother nursed the baby. He helped his father carefully plant the winter wheat and barley for harvest in the spring.

As autumn slipped into winter, Benjamin hadn’t gotten better. His tiny body burned with fever. Those last few days when Philip held him, the heat coming from Benjamin threatened to slowly engulf him like the embers of a dying fire.

Then one day, the heat drained from Benjamin’s body, and cold took its place. Philip didn’t understand at first why his mother and father cried. For days they’d waited for the fever to leave, and finally it had. Then he noticed the stillness of Benjamin’s body. His small chest didn’t rise and fall; he wasn’t breathing. Along with the heat, life had also left the tiny body.

Book Sound Track for Guinevere: At the Dawn of Legend, book 2 and The King’s Ransom, book 1 of Young Knights of the Round Table.

Stand By Me by Ben E. King

Fight Song by Rachel Platten

I’ll Be There For You by The Rembrands

B.B.B.F.F. (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Float On by Modest Mouse

Learning to Fly (Brave) by Tom Petty

Learn Me Right (Brave) by Mumford & Sons, Feat Birdy

Touch The Sky (Brave) by Julie Fowlis

AUTHOR BIO I am a retired high school English teacher. A devourer of books growing up, my profession introduced me to writings and authors from times long past. Through my studies and teaching, I fell in love with the Ancient and Medieval Worlds. Now, I hope to inspire young readers and those Young-at-Heart to read more through my Tales & Legends for Reluctant Readers set in these worlds.

Amazon Author Page

Website

Parents/Educator Website

Blog

Facebook

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[bcrmchkiir-blog]

STATS Name: Drakol Kulaadeyra Zuwutkreikul Dokordstahdim Bormah-do

Eyes: Naturally light brown, yellow dragon-type when in battle. Hair: Full, luxurious (when in leadership), short cut (adventure) Signature Outfit: Golden vampire armor, daedric gauntlets, daedric boots, Meridia’s cloak, and Aetherial crown Other Names: Drakol Dovahkiin, Prince of Daedra, Elder Sun-Son, Akatosh’s Light Birth Date: July 29th, 4E 166 Birth Place: Auriel’s Sanctum, Forgotten Vale, Skyrim. Hometown: Markarth, Skyrim  Death Date: n/a Age at Death: n/a Death Place: n/a Manner of Death: n/a Primary Objective: Rule over mankind and Tamriel for the dragons. Secrets: None so far. Quirks: His determination, and also his dedication to his family, friends, and country. Known Languages: English, German, Scandinavian Languages (Ancient and Modern), Danish, Dragon Tongue Lures: Daedric treasury, strong Nord women. Savvies: Smiting, two-handed fighting, archery, speech. WEIGHT: 342 lbs (sheer muscle) SKIN COLOR: Dark beige HAIR COLOR: Dark brown SCARS: Stab wound in the chest from Mercer. TATTOOS: none

HOROSCOPE: Leo JUNG TYPE: ESFJ: Providers. Traditionalists all the way. They are also quite sociable for an Earth sign, and they like having things planned out. ENNEAGRAM: THE LOYALIST - The Committed, Security-Oriented Type:Engaging, Responsible, Anxious, and Suspicious MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Evil SIN: Wrath VIRTUE: Loyalty MOTTO: ’ si vis pacem, para bellum  ’ ⁽ ’ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵖ���ʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃʳ ’ ⁾ THEME SONG: Hungry N Lurkin’ by K-Camp WEAPONS: a variety of Ebony, Daedric, and Dragonbone weaponry. Prime Ability: the Thu’um Weaknesses: Extreme sunlight, Restrictions: Hardly any. Likes: Ebony, Daedra, Dragons, Lightning, FIGHTING Dislikes: rebellion, Thalmor, Falmer, Argonians. Immediate Family: Akatosh (father), Mieridia (mother) Close ‘Relatives’: The Snow Elves, the Daedra, the Eight Divines, Dragons Allies: The Snow Elves, the Daedra, the Eight Divines, the Imperials, Nightingales, Thieve’s Guild, Companions, College of Winterhold. Enemies: Anti-Daedra, Thalmor, Stormcloaks. Friends: The Snow Elves, the Daedra, the Eight Divines, the Imperials, Nightingales, Thieve’s Guild, Companions, College of Winterhold. Heroes: Talos, Akatosh, Mieridia Pets: A family of Sabre Tooths, and Odahviing Gender: Male Orientation: Straight (Heterosexual Heteromantic) Significant Other: Spinel ( @spineliisms )

♚  AESTHETIC. ♚What are your muse’s aesthetics?

( obvious aesthetics in bold. secret aesthetics italicized )

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black.white.teal.silver.gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green.apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. chartreuse.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat.cold.steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. acid.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. flexible. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes.throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls

.[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires.emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool.fur.lace.leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick.marble. dust.glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. latex. spandex.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. sunflowers. lavender.petals.thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow.forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds.mountains.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. vultures. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies.praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. raccoons. minks. foxes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. whiskey.beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. lime. cherry. strawberry. blackberry. blueberry watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream.caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. tacos. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smiting. sculpting.painting.sketching.fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting.singing.karaoke.martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records.vinyls.cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electric guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. surfing. skateboarding. snowboarding. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers.jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet.helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. trench coats. dusters. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget.bracers. suspenders. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls.braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. greasepaint

.[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war.peace.money.power.percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. die-ary. fairy lights.madness.sanity.sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. indifference. loneliness.family.friends.assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

STORY (tbh)

[bones-n-bookles]

Covers of Julie of the Wolves books, by Jean Craighead George. I don't have a copy of Julie of the Wolves on its own anymore. The art in the treasury is the same as the art in the individual books I have.

[bones-n-bookles]

Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George inside panel, illustrated by John Schoenherr

This is specifically from the Julie of the Wolves book within the treasury hardcover