#Rowan is their eight year old son

[phantom-wolf]

@hetalia-rarepairweek

Day 3: Apocalypse

Title: Starving off Her breadcrumbs

Ship: Arthur Kirkland x Elizabeth I // Arthur Kirkland x Elizabeth I x Alfred F. Jones

Cowritten with: @the-engdyssey

Summary: He vaguely heard Reg's introduction as he watched a young woman headbutt and break the windshield of a nearby car. In a desperate bid to escape, the occupant, a middle aged man, fumbled with the car door, spilling out onto the pavement. But not before the woman had latched onto him, her head turned sideways as she lunged once more, her mouth clamping down on the man's arm.

Then came the countdown.

Here comes a herd of zebras! One. With a ferocity she tore her head back, stripping the man of flesh and muscle as she did so. More akin to a bear ripping into the carcass of an elk than anything human.

Two. The female left him after she'd taken a few chunks out of his arm, her attention stolen by another passerby that had run too close. The man's arm was twitching uncontrollably, spasming from what Alfred had assumed was pain. He couldn't bring himself to look away. What the fuck?

Three. The Marine urged his family to move quicker as he noticed the body on the ground convulsing. Worse now. It wasn't just arm twitches anymore, his whole body was convulsing-

---

This work contains graphic depictions of violence. It also contains some swearing. Also thank you for joining us! We appreciate any and all support on this fic and the others! We hope you enjoy, and you do we have more content coming. In the meantime check out our pages! We have plenty more content for this ship as well as Arthur and Elizabeth.

[yourdoorisunlocked]

The Altruist Family Children - Headcanons

𝐀/𝐍: Some headcanons about Alastor x Reader's children in my AU <33

🎙️ Rowan and Louise are darling twins of the Altruist Family, your own little bundles of joy that grew up to wreak havoc across the neighborhood. Absolute sweethearts.

🎙️ They both look strikingly similar to their father, with deep gray skin, cherry red hair and gleaming yellow teeth, sharpened to the point, but their hair ends in tangles and curls, much like Alastor's when he was alive.

🎙️ Lousie is Alastor's little princess, of course, and he just adores doting on the little girl. Purchasing her whatever her little heart desires, whether it be trinkets and toys, her favorite desserts, frilly dresses and laced skirts – he'd spoil her absolutely rotten.

🎙️ Rowan, on the other hand, was quite the anomaly, at first. Raising a boy – as a father – were uncharted waters that Alastor wasn’t all too keen to tread, at first.

🎙️ Truly, Alastor was just little bit nervous apprehensive when he learnt that you would be having a boy, since his own experience with his father was rather... unsavory, to say the least. But when you sat him down, giving him all the faith and reassurance a man could ever need, well... how could he say no to his darling wife? 

🎙️ And so, Alastor resolves to raise Rowan as his dear mother, bless her heart, raised him to be – a gentleman. The first time Rowan opened the front door for you was the only time Alastor allowed a camera inside the house, or anywhere near his children.

🎙️ When your sweet little boy finally came of age – at a ripe eight years old – your husband took him out hunting. As much as you wanted to suggest that he wait a few more years, the giddy excitement Alastor exuded while polishing his favorite rifle, preparing for a full weekend of spending time with his son, was just too endearing for you to say no to him. 

🎙️ So, every weekend, Rowan and his father would disappear for a few hours, only to return at near twilight lugging some sort of Hellbeast behind them, and their prey only grew in size each year. And by the time Rowan turned thirteen, it wasn’t just wild game that he and Alastor were hunting. 

🎙️ You cut their hair. No questions asked.

🎙️While Louise refuses to get down into the mud and dirt with her brother and father, she adores gardening and growing her own flowers, and has a collection of books on poisons and toxic plants. You humored her fascination with toxicology and allowed her to grow a collection of poisonous flowers, so long as she kept them far away from the kitchen. 

🎙️ Family dinner nights are a given, especially when Alastor does the cooking. There'll be a jazzy swing number playing in the background, while Louise helps her father prep for the meal, and you'll be laughing and dancing with Rowan in the living room.

🎙️ Sometimes, whenever the children play with you, Alastor would lurk just around the corner, watching you with such softness in his eyes, before they drift down to your stomach. You were so good with them, perhaps you'd grace him with another?

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: AHHH I'M KICKING MY FEET RN- THESE TURNED OUT SO CUTE AND I LOVE ROWAN AND LOUISE!!

This turned out to be so long 😭 I just have so many ideas for this AU, I can't wait to release the oneshot

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters

[leiawritesstories]

The Universal Rules of Mistletoe

a fun, hopefully cute, little fluffy fic based off this prompt from @rowaelinprompts "Our friends set us up under the mistletoe"

a gift for @sahana-draws!! happy @rowaelinscourt Rowaelin Secret Santa! it's been so much fun working on this little piece and I really hope you enjoy :))

Word count: 2,054

Warnings: none! (just clueless idiots in love)

Enjoy!

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Fifteen Years Ago

Shiny patent-leather shoes tapping lightly against the hardwood stairs, Aelin hurried downstairs as fast as she could while in her poofy red tulle Christmas dress. Five steps up from the bottom, she stopped, peering across the wide hallway into the main floor of the Galathynius home, which was full of beautifully dressed adults. Her eight-year-old imagination latched onto the sight of her mom and dad with their hands linked, smiling and laughing as they talked with their friends.

She wanted everything they had when she grew up.

Slowly, a little nervously, she moved three more steps down, stopping again as the nervousness flared up in her stomach. This was the first year she had been allowed to come to the Christmas party, and even though her babysitter would be there with her, she wasn't sure if she could do it.

"Hey." Another voice--a boy's voice--interrupted her scattered thoughts. Rowan Whitethorn, the boy from next door whose parents were longtime friends with Aelin's parents, stood on the other side of the staircase railing, looking at her with solemn green eyes. "I like your dress."

"Thanks," she said, smoothing her small hands down the fluffy layers of the skirt. "Mom let me pick it out."

Rowan grabbed two of the stair rails, using them for support as he rose onto his tiptoes to stick his head over the top of the banister. "Are you gonna come to the party?"

"I dunno." She stood on the last step, one hand lingering on the banister. "There's only grown-ups there."

"I'm there too," he said. "Hey, do you wanna play party tag?" Party tag was a game they had invented two years ago, when they were six and seven, during one of the many events Aelin's parents had hosted. Because Rowan and Aelin were so young, they would show up at the event for a bit to be cooed over by all of their parents' rich friends, and then be swept off away from the event. They'd invented a quiet, no-running form of tag where whoever was "it" would have to sneak up on the other person and subtly tag them. Nobody could run, and there had to be at least two minutes between tags.

It was more fun when one of their friends was also at the party, but they made it work with just the two of them.

Aelin cracked a small smile. "Okay." She stood up and stepped off the last stair, and he walked around to stand with her. "Are we gonna go now?"

"Yeah, we--"

"Oh, Enna, look!" Evalin Ashryver Galathynius's voice floated in alongside a cloud of her expensive designer perfume. "Our little ones seem to have found the mistletoe!"

Alarmed, Aelin looked up, finding a small bunch of mistletoe tied with a crimson ribbon hanging from the chandelier above the staircase.

"You know what that means," Enna Whitethorn beamed, setting her champagne flute aside and whipping her phone out of her clutch. "Rowan, darling, do you want to give Aelin a kiss?"

Rowan's whole face turned bright pink. "Do I have to?"

"No," Aelin whispered, blushing just as bright. "It's just a stupid thing the grownups do when there's mistletoe."

"Of course you don't have to," Enna reassured her son. "But it would make such an adorable photo, right Eva?"

"Oh, it would be precious!" Evalin agreed. "Fireheart, will you at least pose there for a minute? Yes, just like that! So cute!" She snapped a few photos in rapid succession as Enna did the same. "Enna, could you get a few of just me and Aelin?"

Relieved, Rowan hurried to stand next to his mother as Evalin came over to Aelin. "You look beautiful, little Fireheart," she said warmly, tidying the big red bow in Aelin's blonde hair. Enna snapped a few photos, and Evalin took Aelin's small hand in hers. "Are you ready to come to the party?"

Eyes wide, Aelin nodded. "Do I have to stay for very long?"

"Just long enough to say hi to a few people." Evalin squeezed her daughter's hand. "I promise. Then you and Nehemia can go have your movie night, right?"

"Uh huh." Aelin straightened her spine, a move she'd seen her mother do endless times. "I'm ready." Quietly, Rowan fell into step next to her, his mother on his other side. And, with her mother on one side and her best friend on the other, Aelin felt a little better about going into the grown-up party.

~

Present

Aelin was halfway through curling her hair, lips held apart while her matte crimson lipstick dried, when a rapid-fire knock drummed against her bathroom door. Before she could respond, the door swung open and Elide Lochan, her second cousin and dear friend, barged into the bathroom.

"I'm not dressed!" Aelin yelped, scrambling to pull her satin robe closed while still holding the curling iron in her other hand.

Elide rolled her eyes. "I can tell, Ae. Don't worry, you still have an hour before anyone is supposed to get here."

"You could've said that before you ran in here like everyone had already showed up," Aelin grumbled. "But thanks, Ells."

"No problem." Elide grinned. "Nice lipstick. Gonna get it all over someone's face tonight?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Aelin snorted. "Gods, no. I'm the host, not some teenager who can run around all night kissing the boy she has a crush on."

"You're also twenty-three and you work too hard." Elide snatched the curling iron from Aelin's hands and took over curling her hair. "You deserve to have a little fun at your own freaking Christmas party."

"Yeah, sure," Aelin said sarcastically. "Bring me a man to kiss under the mistletoe and we'll see about that."

Elide smirked. "You're on."

An hour later, Aelin headed down the stairs, the same staircase she'd walked down every day since she was a little girl, and paused at the bottom step to take a deep, preparatory breath. You can do this, Galathynius, she told herself silently. Everything was all set up--the dining room table with a charcuterie spread, the silver-and-blue themed Christmas tree in the foyer, the large, open living room adorned with soft twinkle lights and decorative snowflakes and soft music piping in through the speaker system her parents had installed years ago. It's going to be just fine.

The doorbell rang.

Collecting herself, Aelin stepped off the stairs and went to the front door, a gracious smile spreading across her face. Her smile brightened when she found her cousin Aedion and his fiancée, Lysandra, waiting on the front step.

"Merry Christmas, Ae!" Lys squealed, hurrying inside. "Let us in, it's freezing!"

Aelin laughed. "Hi, Lys. I missed you!"

"You wouldn't miss me if you weren't working all the time," Lys teased, hugging Aelin tightly. "That dress looks fantastic, oh my god."

"Thanks," Aelin whispered back. Her crimson silk dress--of course her lipstick matched her dress--had thin straps, an elegantly scooped neckline, and was fitted in the bodice before flaring into a spill of floor-length skirts.

Aedion wrapped his arms around her. "You're not this tall," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "It's called stiletto heels, genius."

"Sounds dangerous." He winked.

"Only for you boys who don't want to feel short." She laughed. "Hi, Aeds. How's wedding planning going?"

"Do not get me started," he groaned. "I'm so stressed, and our wedding isn't until another seven months away."

"Hey, relax. Have some punch. Just think about Christmas for a while, not the wedding."

"I'll try." He flashed her a grin.

The doorbell rang again, and Aelin opened the door to find four six-foot-plus men crowding her front steps, acting like small children with their elbows everywhere even though they were all at least in their mid-twenties.

"You can't all fit through the door like that," she drawled, beaming.

Fenrys elbowed his way through the others and broke into the house first. "I win!" he crowed, sweeping Aelin into a hug that pulled her off her feet.

"Good grief, Fen, you haven't even had any drinks yet!" she laughed. "Congratulations on winning whatever it is you think you won."

"He thinks it's a competition to get into parties first," Connall, his twin, explained. He affectionately tugged Fen's man bun. "Put the host down, Fenny."

"Don't call me that, you little--" Fen put Aelin down and went after Con, who'd sauntered away into the living room.

"They're all children, I'm sorry." Rowan pulled off his heavy winter jacket and shook the film of snowflakes off his pale hair. "Merry Christmas, Aelin--oh my god." He stared at her for a good long minute, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Lorcan drawled, nudging Rowan int he shoulder. He wrapped his own arm around Elide's shoulders; the two of them had been dating for just over a year and Aelin had never seen Elide so happy.

"Merry Christmas, Ro." Aelin restrained her giddy smile and did a little spin to show off her dress. "Thanks for--oh!" Rowan caught her, pulling her into a warm, pine-scented hug.

"You look stunning," he said softly. "I didn't know if I could say that in front of all the others, they'd never shut up about it, probably because they know how much I like you...uh, because we've known each other since..." He trailed off, blushing fiercely.

Shocked, Aelin looked up at him, her thoughts going a mile a minute. "You...me...what?" She shook her head. "I'm going insane. I need a minute--five minutes--I--" Abruptly, she hurried towards the stairs, only managing to get two steps up before Rowan's hand closed gently around her wrist.

"Hey." He stabilized her, his voice as grounding as it had been since they were little kids going to their parents' party for the first time. "I'm sorry, Ae, I didn't mean to scare you."

She turned around. "You didn't scare me, Rowan. You just...you said you like me?"

"I like you, Aelin." Warmth and a smidge of uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "But if you--"

"Stop that right now," she chided softly. "I thought I was always going to like you from the shadows, Ro. I've had a crush on you since we were kids."

It was his turn for stunned silence. "I should have said something years ago," he finally said, chuckling in disbelief. "I guess--"

"MISTLETOE!" Elide all but shrieked, completely shattering the mood. She--and everyone else, good grief--were suddenly piled into the walkway between the foyer and the living room, eagerly watching the couple on the stairs.

Aelin felt her face heat up, and she was on the verge of running upstairs to hide from everyone. Rowan was blushing again, even as he threw a glare that screamed "Traitor!" at Lorcan, who was smirking.

"Looks like you're together under the mistletoe, Ae," Elide repeated, beaming so wide Aelin almost thought her cheeks would split. "You know what that means!"

"That someone set us up?" Aelin asked, suddenly wondering how convenient it was that she and Rowan had had that moment together on the stairs.

Elide shrugged, her eyes bright. "There's universal rules of mistletoe, Aelin, and you're gonna have to follow them."

"We knew it!" Fenrys blurted, unable to control the secret. "Why else would we have gone into the living room as soon as we got here?"

"Fenrys!" came a collective groan.

"We shouldn't have told him," Lorcan half-mumbled, shaking his head but grinning. "Boyo has a bigger mouth than anyone I know."

"I know they're our friends," Aelin whispered to Rowan, grinning, "but I kind of want to kick them all out of my house right now." She looped her arms around his neck. "I want you all to myself."

"Me too, but we can hardly ignore the mistletoe rules." He gave her a secret, quietly joyful little smile. "Can I?"

"Please do." She tipped her head up and met his lips, his kiss soft and sweet and lingering. Completely perfect.

They only separated at the cheers and whoops of their friends, and they came into the party hand in hand, laughing, and hardly left each other's sides all night long, because sometimes, it took the quiet scheming of dear friends to get the couple who was quietly in love with each other to admit it.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[andrwminward]

Tagged by @dekarios 🧡🧡🧡

Book recommendation tag game

rules: recommend as many books as you like. please include genre and some basic information on it (either your words or a copy+paste synopsis). feel free to include cover art, a personal review, trigger warnings, and anything else! just don’t spoil the book!

Tagging: @deklo @bookishjules @kashisun & anyone else who wants to do it 🧡🧡🧡

All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Neil Josten is the newest addition to the Palmetto State University Exy team. He's short, he's fast, he's got a ton of potential — and he's the runaway son of the murderous crime lord known as The Butcher. Signing a contract with the PSU Foxes is the last thing a guy like Neil should do. The team is high profile and he doesn't need sports crews broadcasting pictures of his face around the nation. His lies will hold up only so long under this kind of scrutiny and the truth will get him killed. But Neil's not the only one with secrets on the team. One of Neil's new teammates is a friend from his old life, and Neil can't walk away from him a second time. Neil has survived the last eight years by running. Maybe he's finally found someone and something worth fighting for.

Warnings:

-violence

-violence (male to female)

-mild assault

-drug abuse

-drug misrepresentation

-alcohol abuse

-counselors/courts prescribing medication

-murder

-violence (guns, knives, fists, cigarette lighters, etc)

-sport violence

-casual violence

-familial death (referenced)

-gang violence

-torture (semi-heavily detailed)

-abuse

-abuse by a family member

-mentions of domestic abuse

-homophobia

-rape

-rape by a family member

-minor character death

-cutting

-suicide mentions

-mentions of sociopathy

-mentions of depression

-panic attacks

-knives being used

-character in a rehab/mental facility

-abuse in a rehab facility

-bribery of authority figures

-albeist language / homophobic slurs

-mention of animal cruelty

Angels before man by Rafael Nicolas

A Queer Retelling of Satan's Fall

In an eternal paradise, the most beautiful angel, Lucifer, struggles with shame, identity, and timidity, with little more than the desire to worship his creator.

It isn't until the strongest angel, Michael, comes into his life that Lucifer learns to love himself. Along the way, their friendship begins to bloom into something else. Maybe the first romance in the history of everything.

But this God is a jealous one, and maybe paradise is not paradise.

Warnings:

Blasphemy

Graphic violence

Graphic animal death

Sexual content

Self harm

Use of terms with incestuous connotations

Grooming

Mental instability

Off page sexual assault

On page sexual trauma

Abuse

Prince of sorrows (Rowan blood #1) by Kellen Graves

Without an academic endorsement to make him valuable to the high fey, Saffron will be sent back through the veil to the human world. The place he was traded from as a changeling-baby, and a place he is terrified of. And while getting an endorsement shouldn't be impossible, it's hindered by the fact his literacy is self-taught, using books stolen off of Morrígan Academy's campus of high fey students.

When mistaken identity leads to Saffron learning the true name of brooding, self-centered, high fey Prince Cylvan, what begins as a risk of losing his life (or his tongue) becomes an opportunity to earn the future he wants. In exchange for an endorsement, he and Cylvan form a geis where Saffron agrees to find a spell to strip power from Cylvan's true name. While Prince Cylvan doesn't know Saffron can barely read, Saffron is determined to meet his end of the deal in order to remain in Alfidel—or maybe just to remain by Cylvan's side, as affections grow stronger every night they spend alone in the library together.

But as other human servants soon fall victim to a beast known only as “the wolf”, Saffron realizes he has embroiled himself in a manipulative reach for power like he never anticipated—and even Prince Cylvan cannot be trusted. Between the wolf, uncovering forbidden magic, and his growing feelings for the prince, Saffron will have to decide which is most important to him—his endorsement, the lives of his friends, or the prince’s life and wellbeing.

Warnings

Physical abuse

Sexual content

Blood

Death

Sexual harassment

Confinement

Drug use

Classism

[phoenix--flying]

Titans Win AU; Intro Profiles - Cabin Seven

*this au takes place around Sea of Monsters *the current summer is not counted in the amount of summers theyve spent at camp, as they never finished the summer session

Camp Half-Blood Cabins Big Three | Two | Four | Five | Six | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

Lee Fletcher (He/They) Lee is an eighteen year old son of Apollo, he's the head counselor of his cabin and has seven beads. He's currently missing.

Michael Yew (He/Him) Michael is a fourteen year old son of Apollo, he also has seven beads for his summers at camp. He's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of his counselor.

William ‘Will’ Solace (He/Him) Will is an eleven year old son of Apollo, he's got three beads. He's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of his counselor.

Kayla Knowles (She/Her) Kayla is a ten year old daughter of Apollo, she only has one bead. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of his counselor.

Sylvie Lucas (She/They) Sylvie is a fourteen year old daughter of Apollo, she has four beads. She took the temporary position of head counselor following Lees disappearance. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood.

Laura Spring (She/Her) Laura is a thirteen year old daughter of Apollo, she only has two beads for her years at camp. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of her counselor.

Alexander ‘Alex’ Harris (He/Him) Alex is a ten year old son of Apollo, he doesn't have an beads as he only came to camp recently. His twin sister is Robin and he's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of his counselor.

Robin Harris (She/Her) Robin is a ten year old daughter of Apollo, she also doesn't have any beads as she's only recently come to camp. Her twin brother is Alex and she's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of her counselor.

Abigail ‘Abby’ Jones (She/Her) Abby is a twelve year old daughter of Apollo, she has one bead for her summer at camp. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of her counselor.

Rowan White (She/Her) Rowan is a ten year old daughter of Apollo. She has three beads to represent her summers at camp. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of her counselor.

Chase Keys (He/Him) Chase is a fourteen year old son of Apollo with five beads for his summers. He's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of his counselor.

Eileen Nelson (She/Her) Eileen is a thirteen year old daughter of Apollo, she has two beads for her years of summer at camp. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of her counselor.

Natalia Rivers (She/Her) Natalia is an eleven year old daughter of Apollo. She's only arrived at camp recently and therefore doesn't have any beads. She's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of her counselor.

Blake Summers (He/Him) Blake is a thirteen year old son of Apollo, he's been at camp for five years and has the beads to represent it. He's currently at Camp Half-Blood under the supervision of his counselor.

[librosamarillos]

passed down like folk songs

chapter 1: evergreen

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

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Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

After terrorising @heartstalked’s inbox with my blurbs as 🍼anon, here’s a fic based on all the breeding kink asks, but we’re gonna suffer first I’m afraid. Is this proofread? Nope. Is this just taylor swift inspired fic? Of course it is.

Dragonstone was not what she was expecting. Nothing like what she was used to in Starfall, surrounded completely by the beautiful forest. It felt cold and strange, but she held onto her father’s hand and kept walking.

Rowan wasn’t entirely sure why she was there, she was only eight, and children weren’t normally asked to join their fathers at their work. Her father, Lord Duncan Evergreen, was a favourite among Queen Visenya’s council, and was summoned to Dragonstone often. As Rowan glanced up at him, he looked a bit nervous. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel any better.

The Queen was one she was anxious to meet. She’d never seen Visenya Targaryen up close, only hearing her father’s tales of her. And of course the rumours around the Reach, about this strange family, flooded her mind, most of them about the Queen herself. Of her sternness, her coldness in comparison to her sister wife, Queen Rhaenys, that she was a witch and fed people that displeased her to her terrifying dragon Vhagar. It made her shiver. Although her father told her to pay no mind, she couldn’t help it.

House Evergreen was a small, but very wealthy house in the Reach, providing the kingdom with wood, honey and berries. Lord Duncan was the second son, his brother Lucas inheriting their house’s seat in Starfall, in the mountains. In the last year, he had lost his beloved wife, the Lady Edith. The loss of his wife affected both him and his only daughter, Rowan, greatly. His brother had offered to have her stay with them while he worked for the Queen, but before he left, she told him to bring his daughter with him.

And there they were now, making their way to the gate of the castle that looked so strange and foreign to her. It appeared so cold and distant. A loud roar startled the little girl, who clung onto her father for dear life, as a giant dragon flew above them, wandering in the sea. The great beasts didn’t fill her with wonder, they terrified her.

“It’s alright, my sweet, Vhagar is only hunting. You’ll get used to it.” her father’s calm voice reassured her.

Rowan could only nod, as she discovered her voice could not leave her throat. How often had her father seen the dragon up close that he was so calm? From the book he brought her on Old Valyria, she knew Vhagar was the name of the god of war, and from the stories she heard, Vhagar truly lived up to the name, as did Queen Visenya, she was sure.

As they entered the castle, Rowan let go of her father’s hand to fix her hair from all the wind. She knew they’d be lead to the Queen herself, and she didn’t want to make a bad impression. Her father smiled.

“You look lovely, do not fret.” he chuckled, patting her head lightly.

The guards lead them, not to the throne room, as she assumed, but to a smaller room, one that possibly held meetings. There, in the center of the room, sat the Queen. The gown she wore was much simpler than the one Queen Rhaenys wore when Rowan saw her, but she liked it best. When she imagined a warrior queen, the image of Visenya certainly fulfilled what she pictured. She stood tall, her silver hair in an intricate braid, her purple eyes stern, studying her.

“Lord Evergreen, welcome back to Dragonstone.” her voice was formal and deep, her eyes shifting from her to her father.

“Thank you, your grace, it is always an honour to be here.” he said, giving a small bow.

The Queen made her way to them, making Rowan nervously squeeze her father’s hand, which he gave a reassuring squeeze back.

“If I may introduce my daughter, the Lady Rowan.” he smiled, looking at his child.

“Your grace.” Rowan said shyly, giving a curtsy, as the Queen looked at her.

“I hope you enjoy your stay here Lady Rowan. Your father has told me you enjoy reading; feel free to go to the library any time you wish.” Visenya gave the young girl a small smile, as her face lit up.

“Truly? Thank you, your grace, thank you!” Rowan smiled, now at ease.

Visenya watched the young girl from the window, as she walked around with her father. She remembered how hard his wife’s death hit him, she imagined how much worse it would’ve been for the girl. It felt wrong to invite him to her council for so many moons at a time and leaving his daughter behind. Duncan Evergreen grew to be her most trusted advisor. She could even call him a friend, had they not been so bound by formalities. And from what she saw, his daughter was a little miniature of him. They both had the same auburn curls, freckled faces, bright green eyes and friendly smiles. She was his pride and joy, Visenya could tell, from the way he talked about her. She seemed like a sweet girl.

There wasn’t much to do for a child in Dragonstone, she had to admit, but if all her father said was true, Rowan would spend most of her time devouring the books in the library. There were no other children on the island, other than her own son, Maegor, who had no interest in anything other children seemed to enjoy. By last year, he started to use a real blade in his training, Visenya thought proudly. He was going to be a great warrior, she knew it. The maesters didn’t find him to be the most pleasant child to be around, so perhaps it would do him some good to make a friend.

Visenya thought back to King’s Landing. That’s where she should be, that’s where her son should be growing up. Surrounded by his future subjects and his parents by his side. She sighed. She knew this was for the best. Maegor was strong, she knew he could handle what life threw at him, but she was still inclined to shield him from pain as much as she could. He didn’t have to go through what she’s lived through her whole life. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was him she was protecting or herself.

Perhaps both.

She felt like she was being watched. Rowan, admittedly, was quite lost, all of the hallways appearing the same to her. It was all the same cold stone walls in her eyes, she wasn’t sure how she’d find her way around for six whole moons. For a while, she couldn’t find anyone, not a maid, a servant, a maester, nobody. It was starting to freak her out, when she had the feeling somebody was there. She froze, unsure of what to say.

“Uh… hello?” her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide.

She nearly jumped when she turned around to see a boy her age standing behind her. How had she now heard him? He eyed her suspiciously, as if he was sizing her up. She calmed herself and blinked in surprise. She knew the Queen had a son, and this was definitely him. He truly looked just like his father, but he had his mother’s eyes.

She had briefly met his half brother, Prince Aenys, back in King’s Landing. The two brothers could not be more different. Aenys was cheery, welcoming and smiled freely and brightly, whereas Maegor seemed reserved, serious, even a bit scary.

“What are you doing here?” he asked sternly.

“I- I got lost. All the hallways look the same to me.” she admitted, feeling incredibly embarrassed in that moment.

“I see.” he said, as if he hadn’t thought this through, an awkward silence falling between them.

He was taller than her, wearing his sparring clothes, she assumed. He had his hair cut short, just like the King did. She wondered why he was not raised with his brother in the capital. The city was booming, there was always something to do, somewhere to go, unlike here. But perhaps the Prince did not enjoy the city? Rowan awkwardly played with the fabric of her dress, unsure of what to say, but luckily, he broke the silence first.

“You’re Lord Duncan’s daughter.” he stated, as it was clear as day.

“And you’re Queen Visenya’s son.” she replied, earning a nod.

“Prince Maegor.” he introduced himself to her.

“Rowan. My prince.” she replied, with a small curtsy.

“Mother asked for you and your father to join everyone for dinner. You should get ready.” he stated, pausing for a moment, remembering that she was lost. “Follow me.”

Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand and started walking, dragging her along with him. After a silent five minutes, they were somehow outside of her chambers. He let go of her hand, and she looked up at him in awe.

“How did you know these were my chambers?” she asked, her eyes wide.

He almost let out a scoff.

“I live here. I know which chambers they prepare for the guests. A man has to pay attention to what goes on around him.” he said, as if she should’ve known this by heart.

“Oh.” was all she could say, before biting her lip. “Well, thank you for your help, my prince. I’ll go prepare for supper.” she said, giving him a small shy smile, before disappearing into her rooms.

Maegor stood there for a moment, eyes fixed on her door, before returning to his own chambers to prepare for dinner.

Rowan quickly freshened up, pulling her hair free of the braid it was in and braided only the top half, twisting it into a bun. After some adjustment, she was satisfied with her work. She put on her evening dress and sat on the edge of her bed, playing with her rings nervously. Had she made a fool of herself in front of the prince? She hoped not. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, but she still felt ashamed of being lost and needing help the first time she met the only other person her age on the island. If he hated her, it would be a grueling six moons.

She truly pondered why the Queen resided here in Dragonstone with her son. If all the stories her parents told her were true, then it was Visenya that did most of the hard work during the conquest, thus, should she not be in the capital reaping her rewards? King Aegon and Queen Rhaenys certainly seemed to do so, the Queen basking in the glory of her fawning singers and poets, enjoying lavish feasts in her name, the most expensive dresses and jewels. Did their sister not enjoy such a life, was that it? Then again, she was the one most feared out of the three.

Rowan truly could not grasp how Aegon wed his own sisters. It was truly a disgusting thing to think about, she couldn’t imagine marrying her cousins, let alone any brother if she had one. She didn’t dare say a word though. That seemed to be the silent understanding, at least in the Reach. Although unnatural and gross, if one valued their life, they held their tongue. But that didn’t stop whispers. Her father explained it was custom to do such things in Valyria, as they wanted to contain the ability to ride a dragon within their own family, but that didn’t stop her grimace.

She thought back to the King. He was a formal man, barely acknowledging her, only doing so when he extended his condolences about her mother’s death. Queen Rhaenys, however, seemed warm. Too warm. She had opened her arms, looking at her expectantly, her pale violet eyes urging her to come in her embrace, which is what Rowan, albeit very reluctantly, did. She offered her words of comfort, petting her curly hair, while her husband looked fondly at them. Although Rowan should feel honoured that a Queen was comforting her like this, she felt uneasy. Her warmth felt empty, just like her words. Rowan decided she didn’t like her very much. Something within her said so, and it felt like a warning. So she thanked her, with a polite smile and kind words.

The Prince Aenys, who was quite older than her, at ten and six, also extended his condolences. Rowan felt at ease, enjoying his presence much more than the King and Queen’s. She did think it was quite funny that his parents gave him the same name as his mother, save for one letter. What a strange family this was.

She was glad her father worked for Queen Visenya. Although scary, Rowan felt quite at ease with her. Perhaps it was the fact that she paid attention when her father had mentioned her interests to her, when she made the generous offer of free range to the library. Or the fact that she didn’t sense any false niceties. And of course, her father trusted her.

Much to Visenya’s surprise, the two children became fast friends. She wasn’t sure how, but in just a few moons, you could not find one without the other. She was glad to see her son smile freely around his newfound friend, and the girl also seemed more at ease than when she first arrived at the castle. Indeed, she found the air lighter with another child here, although she did love the quiet solitude Dragonstone offered her.

She had become quite fond of Rowan herself. Duncan’s daughter was a sweet child, ever the proper little lady. She was like a sponge with information, no doubt just like her father. Visenya had offered to teach her High Valyrian, since many of the books in the library were not in the common tongue. She thought she wouldn’t have the patience for it, but in yet another surprising turn of events, she found it calming, especially when she needed a break from her duties.

This was one of those days. She asked Rowan to sit in front of her vanity, handing her a book on gardening, since the subject was familiar to her, it would make it easier to remember. The young girl clumsily read out to her, while Visenya tried to braid her auburn curls, which appeared to be the most challenging of the two tasks. But Rowan didn’t complain, just smiled at her with encouragement, sometimes letting out a tiny giggle. Visenya couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maegor was her whole world, but she often wondered what it would be like to have a daughter, a little girl of her own. She saw a lot of her younger self in Rowan. She remembered how much she loved reading as a child, how she loved her time with Aegon at the citadel. But she found no time for it between training, battle, war and conquering kingdoms. It wasn’t the first love that was taken from her. She glanced at the little girl in front of her, her focused eyes in the mirror. She wondered what it would be like to have a daughter like her. She didn’t think herself capable of creating something so pure and sweet. Her Maegor was born a warrior, she saw the wild, raging fire in him reflecting her own and his father’s from the moment he had opened his eyes for the first time. In Rowan all she could see was the spark of a warm fireplace, calm, safe, warm.

“Did I say it wrong, your grace?” she asked.

“No, no, in fact you’ve improved since last time. Have you been practicing with Maegor?” Visenya offered her a small smile.

“Yes, he’s been kind enough to help me out.” she beamed, happy to spend more time with her son.

It did them both good to become friends. It lifted Rowan’s spirits from the loss of her mother, and brought Maegor out of his shell. The maesters even told her of the young Prince improving in all his subjects, now that he had Rowan join in. He seemed to relax around her.

After another failed braid, Visenya sighed in defeat and began to let the hair loose. Rowan had told her that her father would help her braid her hair when she needed help, so she thought she could show her some Valyrian style braids, which proved to be difficult on wild curls.

She felt Rowan’s eyes on her. The girl had this peaceful aura around her, and her gaze felt knowing. Like she could see right through a person. Normally, this would have Visenya on high alert, but something about her made her feel safe. Like she wanted someone to see her. To understand her. That’s what Rowan’s gaze felt like, a quiet understanding. That was the thing between women wasn’t it? The silent knowing look. Something Maegor would never know of as a man.

She snapped out of her thoughts.

“Are your bags ready for King’s Landing?” she asked, earning a nod.

“Yes, your grace!”

“You seem excited.” she pointed out.

“I am. I miss the capital quite a bit.” Rowan admitted.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to join Maegor and I on Vhagar? It would be much faster.” she chuckled at how quickly the girl’s smile dropped.

Rowan, unlike most children, was terrified of dragons and did not regard them with wonder and awe. She’d get used to them, surely, on Dragonstone especially. She’d scold Maegor for teasing her for it, as her fears were within reason. Children regarded the dragons with awe because they did not know the terror they could bring. Rowan, like the good pupil she was, did know.

“I only jest Rowan, do not worry.” she offered a sympathetic smile.

The sun was gentle on their faces as they sat on the field of grass, the warmth of spring finally here. It found Maegor laying down, with his eyes closed, his encounter with his father in the morning still weighing heavy on his mind. It found Rowan carefully making a flower crown, trying to find the right words to ease her friend’s obvious pain that he was trying to pass off like it was nothing. Like always.

“You’re doing it again.” he stated, without opening his eyes.

“Hm? What?” she asked, averting her attention from the flowers in her hands to Maegor’s face.

“Staring off, trying to find a solution to a problem you didn’t create.” he stated again, as if it was so obvious he didn’t even have to open his eyes.

Rowan sighed lightly. Maegor knew her too well, it seemed.

“It’s not like that. I just hate how he makes such a show of it all. You’re his son too.” she admitted, furrowing her brows at the thought.

“I know.” he sighed. “I wish he would remember that as well.”

A moment of silence passed before Maegor sat up, crossing his legs.

“It was humiliating. His hand asked if I were to still follow Aenys in succession when he had children, and he just avoided the question. In front of the whole council! And then kept going on and on about taking Aenys with him everywhere to prepare him for the throne. How much more obvious does he have to make it?” he vented, pulling on loose strands of grass.

Her heart broke hearing the hurt in his voice. She reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“He’s an idiot not to see how capable you are. Everyone knows.” she said seriously while looking in his violet eyes.

“That’s treason, you know. Talking like that of your King?” his tone was serious, but a small smile was creeping on his lips.

“Weren’t you just making fun of me for sticking to the rules so much?” she asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

To that, Maegor let out a chuckle.

“I suppose so.”

Another moment of silence passed, something weighing heavy on Rowan’s mind.

“I don’t want you to be King.” she finally confessed, her eyes fixed on the flowers in her hands.

“What?” he asked, genuine surprise in his voice, as he dropped the strand of grass he was playing with.

“Kings never seem to be happy, not truly. Not the competent ones at least. And all I want is for you to be happy.” Rowan’s voice was soft as she spoke.

“And what if being King is what makes me happy?” he felt his heart flutter.

“Is that truly what would make you happy? Would it fill you with joy?” she asked, finally meeting his eyes, and for a moment, time felt like it stopped.

“Yes. I’d be the happiest on the throne, continuing my parents’ and my house’s legacy.” he said after a small pause, his voice serious once more.

Rowan nodded, her green eyes searching his for something. She then placed the flower crown carefully on his head. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve never accepted it, but it wasn’t anyone else. It was Rowan.

“If that’s what would make you happy, then I shall be your biggest advocate.” she said softly, with a smile. “I promise.”

He looked at her, wondering when he started feeling this way. Has it always been like this? Had her words and gentle smiles always made his heart beat this fast? He’d known her a year, and yet it felt like he’d known her forever. He felt his face get warm.

“…Thank you.”

taglist: @heartstalked @stupidocupido

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 53

Cw: grooming, murder, child abuse, fertility issues, magic, description of injuries, body horror, ableism

Gif by @daenerys-tarrgaryen

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @alexandria-millie @ewanmitchellcrumbs @darylandbethfanforever9

Rhaena ---despite Jeyne putting her foot down saying it was too dangerous--- was packed along with her stepbrother and their dragons and escorted to her father by the army Jeyne promised father and her half-sister, Nettles.

Why, she isn’t sure, but Nettles thinks it’s to show off their dragons and make the Greens shit themselves.

“I do not like him.” Her eight and ten year old half-sister made her displeasure known after Ser Corwyn, a man of eight and twenty, helps her onto her horse.

“But I do, Nettie.” The girl said playing with the red ribbon he gave her back in the Eyrie. He was handsome, and great at jousting, and if Nettles was into boys, she’d find it very attractive when he takes off his tunic when he spars.

Rhaena had scarcely turned five and ten ---two weeks ago--- when the lords and knights in Lady Jeyne’s court begin to fight for her attention. She supposed it was her turn since everyone’s getting betrothed.

Baela is betrothed to the heir of House Rowan who Lady Jeyne claims is part of a conspiracy to kill Aegon and make Aemma queen. Aegon was led to believe by his councilors he had truly become loyal to him, and the Usurper believed them.

Joanna Westerling has sent a raven to father offering herself or his choice of her four daughters in exchange for ridding her of the Red Kraken. Father had ---according to Nettles--- chosen the widow as her bravery had him rooting for her despite her allegiance.

Rhaena has plenty of offers, but the choice is up to father, unfortunately.

Kermit Tully offers himself as a groom for Rhaena, as does three- and ten-year-old Bloody Benjicot Blackwood, Jason Lannister, Lord Manderley’s heir, Lord Tarly and Ser Corwyn Corbray.

Rhaena would gladly choose Ser Corwyn if it were up to her. It wasn’t fair mama married papa out of love, she tells her sister when she says he is too old for her.

“Your mother was two and twenty, and he killed the Sealord’s annoying son for her. If Ser Corwyn cares for you an ounce of what Daemon cared for his two late wives, he will wait until you are of age and know your own mind, little sister.” Nettles points out and changed the topic. “Do you think Vhagar knows Morning is hers?”

“Yes, when Aemond was Aemma’s hostage Vhagar would let her curl up beside her, she even let us get on her saddle. Unless you try to command your parent’s dragon, they don’t harm you. When Baela trained Moondancer for fighting, Vhagar refused to hurt her. Caraxes has no such problem, but that is because Caraxes is a jerk.” Rhaena explained wondering why she’d ask that.

Morning was as large as a colt now; the freedom of the mountain helped her grow as if she were a wild dragon like Nettles’ Sheepstealer. She was not a fighter, she needed training for it, but if she were to be around and hurt, Vhagar would have no other choice than to rescue her hatchling.

“Why does father want me there?”

“Baela’s escaping Kingslanding as we speak, Daemon wants Vhagar out of the fight and the only way to do it is if her hatchlings lead her away from the battle.”

Prince Aenys suckles at Alys’ teat as if she hadn’t bound his life to hers. The babe would live as long as she did while he was still at her breast.

It served as insurance, and the only way the babe lives. Had he been handed off to an ordinary woman, the babe would have been blue by morning.

Alys had done this before. With Ida’s first boy, Simon’s eldest grandson and the housekeeper’s bastard girl. They all lived long and healthy lives, save for little Simon who she felt Daemon bring down Dark Sister on him.

Every dying child she nurses becomes tied to her.

She cannot give life, but she may nurture it. A small consolation for when your gods take away your chance to be an ordinary woman with an ordinary man and give birth to perfectly ordinary children.

Her husband had been killed by the same demon he sired on her; Larys’ horrible mama had been killed by the demon Alys gave birth to when she gave King Viserys her maidenhead.

She had prayed for a chance to get away from her stepmother who believed her to be the reason Larys was born the way he was.

The gods answered, just not the way she had hoped.

Her mother, a witch from Oldtown, had been proud, her father toyed with the valyrian steel link in his old chain as she tearfully explained her situation when three- and ten-year-old Harwin found her cradling Willam’s body in her bloody bed.

After that Alys honed her skills while father and Harwin helped erase any evidence of her …experiments out of love for her.

Her sisters remained blissfully unaware of it all, Larys loathed her for she knew his true nature, but Harwin adored her as all little brothers adore their big sisters.

As thanks for keeping her secrets, Alys kept the curse of Harren the Black at bay. The curse that plagued Harwin since Lady Beatrice Rowan gave birth to him on an unlucky day.

He had nightmares of fires, of being locked in his rooms and Larys laughing as he beats the door bloody until he burns alive.

Alys used all her arts to keep her brother alive, as long as she never left the castle it would not claim sweet Harwin who was so much more than just the Breakbones.

Then one night, Larys drugged her with sweetsleep and locked her in a cottage in the woods just outside the grounds to kill their father and brother.

Same brother Larys envied for being everything he wasn’t.

He wants her dead, now that he has lost everything for betting on the wrong horse. He killed his kin for a cursed castle, so she let it all fall on his frail shoulders.

Once he is dead, Ida’s sons with Lord Whent will inherit the title and lands that come with Harrenhal. Osbert Whent, a boy of four who would need a regent. Someone Ida knows would die and kill for him.

And that someone is his beloved auntie, Alys.

“The babe dies if I die.” She tells him as she continues to care for the baby prince.

“The babe is a bastard, he has as much value as you do, sweet sister.” Her brother said with a smile. “The little queen will have others. She doesn’t even love the babe, perhaps she may thank me for ridding her of it.”

“You do not know the rage of a mother, Larys. Even if she claims not to love her son, her blood will not let her rest until he is avenged.” The witch chided him for thinking all mothers were as cruel as his.

Lara Strong had made it loud and clear that she’d been disappointed in her son. She wanted a son better than Harwin who had always seemed uncannily perfect.

Larys, while loved by his father and siblings, loathed them for believing in the venom his mother raised him on. Hated them so much he became a kinslayer thinking he could fill that void in him with wealth and a title.

Nothing more terrible in this world than to live without ever knowing love.

“So you say, sweet sister, so you say.”

“The Silent Sisters’ said it was beyond their ability to embalm her, the most they could was wrap her as tightly as they could.” He murmured squeezing his eye shut as if trying to will the memory of it away.

Usually, he is the one holding her, and tonight Aemma returns the favor. She braids his hair, helps him remove his false eye and when he asks her to comfort him in the way he had assumed, she turns him down as she has not fully recovered from the birth.

“I’m sorry you had to see it.” Aemma whispered tucking him under her chin as he is fond of doing with her.

Alicent’s death had been so gruesome she was wrapped in linen drenched in fragrant oils like a Valyrian instead of having her body embalmed as it was typical for Andal funerals. The spikes had torn through too much, even now some pieces of her clothes were stuck under the worst ones she fell on.

Whether she took her own life or was murdered was an entirely different beast. The only one in the room was Alys who swore on the Seven-pointed star she was burping Aenys on the other side of the nursery when it happened.

Not that they believed her, but they can’t change Aenys’ wetnurse without risking the babe becoming ill or worse, dying.

Even if grandfather’s and Aemond’s theory that she used her dark arts to kill her mother were true, they would have to postpone any trial and execution after Aenys has been weaned.

That would mean Daemon must wait another year to avenge her mother as he vowed that day she died.

“What are you thinking?” he asks turning so he could rest his head on her breast. If you saw him like this, you wouldn’t believe he was the same haughty prick you see in public.

“The same woman who killed your mother and mine is the same who nurses our son. We’ll have to wait until he is weaned to kill her.” She answered and he quietly chuckled.

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll kill him?”

A good question. One her grandfather and Baela and Jena and even Aegon had asked her since Alicent’s murder.

“No, self-preservation trumps all, she knows the moment anyone gets a whiff ---real or imagined--- of her mistreating the Prince of Dragonstone she is dragon food. Why do you think all your brother’s supporters are flocking to me now that the end is nigh, dear husband?”

Most courtiers had turned Green to keep themselves alive and with all their wealth, now they switch their cloaks for black to do the same. While Aemma will spare them, she will still punish them for their treachery.

They didn’t learn anything from when Jaehaerys spared their forefathers, this time Aemma intends to make the lesson stick.

They must learn the world cannot have a second Otto Hightower.

[scotianostra]

On April 13th 1596 Walter Scott of Buccleuch freed notorious reiver William Armstrong of Kinmont in a daring raid on Carlisle Castle.

Perhaps the best known of the Border reivers (outlaw raiders or rustlers), William Armstrong of Kinmont’s first recorded raid was against the Milburns of Tyndale, in August 1583, when Armstrong was probably in his forties. In 1585 he accompanied the Earl of Angus`s campaign against the Earl of Arran and pillaged Stirling. Eight years later he was in Tynedale again with 1,000 men, carrying off over 2,000 beasts and £300 in spoils.

The events of 1596 and the rescue of ‘Kinmont’ Willie Armstrong represent a daring swashbuckling adventure. The fact that Kinmont led one of the most notorious bands of cut-throats ever to roam the Debatable Land seems to be irrelevant and in the tradition of the Border ballads we are to view him as a hero. His notoriety and activities were such that the Warden of the West Marsh’s deputy, Salkeld, captured Kinmont as he returned from a Truce Day at the Dayholm of Kershope. Kinmont was taken to Carlisle.

According to Border Law it should not have happened on a Truce Day and Walter Scott of Buccleuch who became known as The Bold Buccleuch, and was keeper of Liddesdale on whose land the arrest had been made, protested to the Warden, Lord Scrope. When Scrope refused to return Kinmont, Buccleuch became concerned that Scrope was anxious to hang Kinmont on the gallows at Harraby and so assembled a motley bunch of Elliots, Scotts, Armstrongs and Grahams to effect a rescue. Oral tradition has meant that the numbers vary from 40 to 200. The weather was atrocious which made crossing the River Eden very dangerous, but it did mean that the castle watch had taken shelter. Buccleuch left a group to cover the retreat and led the raiding party himself. Popular opinion has it that they must have had support from the inside because they entered the castle quickly. Thus with the aid of a sturdy Reiver, Red Rowan, Kinmont made his escape.

In 1600, Armstrong attacked the village of Scotby with 140 riders, burning and taking prisoners and cattle. In 1602 he rode his last foray, south of Carlisle. He was still alive two years later, and his four sons who had helped to get him out of Carlisle Castle are frequently named in the later Border raids. Legend supposes he died in his bed of old age, sometime between 1608 and 1611.

As is usual with these Border legends we look to the old sources of the story tellers before reading and writing was the norm, the old songs. Francis James Child was an American scholar and collector of Ballads, if you follow my posts you will no doubt have seen me posting “Child Ballads” at times, this story comes from Child Ballad 186. This ballad is more unusual than most of the songs I know from the Child Ballads as it is longer than most at 20 verse so I wont post it, you can look it up on YouTube as Child Ballad 168, but it’s over 9 minutes wrong in full!

[treesandwords]

Sons of the Summer King Excerpt: The Prologue

I submitted this for a writing contest and it didn't even make it to the long list, so I'll put it here instead. The fun begins under the cut vvv

The boy was wrapped in a white death-shroud when he was brought to the castle, cradled in the back of a cart.              Jamos Dalion bent low over the body, long fingers carefully uncovering the face, the green-stained hands. The face was not that of one of his own children, but some nameless other’s. A woodworker, a weaver. A farmer, a villager.   Sewn into the brown linen of his sleeve was a hill-rowan twig, and at his throat was a strand of dark green ivy. Neither had done him any good.            “Forgive me, my lord,” said the grubby man who had brought the body, “but you shouldn’t touch him. Not bare- handed.”  He drove the horse and cart, and following was a stream of curious and frightened villagers, not far from the castle gates. The sky was heavy with clouds, brown oak-leaves rattling on their twigs. The moors around cradled the hill and the castle in a dusk-grey sea.             “We did as we’re meant to,” said the cart-driver, twisting his own gloved hands. “He’d been good and protected, in the old ways proper. As they always are, when they hunt in there.”             “The old ways mean nothing. Not here. Not with this.” Not this time of year. Not when the hunt was more a shrike-like attack.             “M’lord, my family – we’re of the old blood, we know the right ways of things. We told the boy what to do, all the right things – “             “Yet still he died. As did others.”             It was not a question, but the villager quelled under his lord’s glance. “They did.”             A cold wind blew, hissing through the dying heather. A small crowd of children stood behind the lord, most with his red hair and unsmiling face, watching with solemn curiosity. One of the little boys, a lad of eight summers, stared intently at the rowan berries resting against the corpse’s limp hand. He had his own today, in his own sleeve, and on the coldest nights of winter his mother would smudge his cheeks with their juices. Even within the castle’s safe walls. Even if he never dared set foot in the place where the dead boy had gone.             Lord Jamos took the man quietly aside, out of earshot.  “There was no sign of – him?”             “No sign.”             There never was. “How many dead?”

            “Six. Seven, including the boy.”             It was quick, then. Often it took more time than this, for them to show signs – long enough that many thought they had escaped this boy’s fate. And on the barest occasion, perhaps once every ten hunts, one did.

The boy’s eyes were half open, veins in the lids green-tinged. A sickly greenish hue emerged beneath his skin all over, choking his blood. Mage-touched.

He was younger than Jamos’ eldest son. The eyes, where they were not eerily green, had been pale brown.             “Burn him in the village, along with the other dead,” the lord commanded. “Give them to the flames, and to the Holly King. They deserve an honourable crossing.”             “What of those not yet dead, my lord?”             “How close to death are they?”             A look exchanged. A knowing one. “Close, my lord. Very close.”             “Burn them too.”             The cart went away, the dead boy and his protections with it. The lord turned to his family, slowly. Their cheeks were thin. It had been a bad year, and with worse to come. For he  was not yet gone. The bringer of green-veined death, of childhood nightmares.             In that cold, whispering autumn night the funeral-pyres blazed down in the village, smoke crossing the moors like sea-fog. It swirled into the dales and hollows, brushed the hills with snakelike tendrils.

At the far edge of the moor it halted, at a wall of trees deep with shadow. The Wood. Before the trees lay wreaths of wildflowers, bare twigs twined together in the shapes of folk charms, crossed circles made of rowan wood. The smoke trailed around them, the wind leaving them feebly fluttering. In the darkness between the trees there was no sound, no movement. But the fearful eyes of the nearby village kept watch, as they watched the reeking bonfires all through the long night.

And the children of Dalion remembered; the sons and daughters who sat huddled at the castle windows high above and, too, watched. They never forgot the shadow of the Wood. They never forgot the green veins beneath pallid death-skin, creeping like a poison, like lightning, like summer vines.

Taglist: @kaatiba (ask to be added/removed)

[despondcnts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙱𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝙷𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚂, 𝙰 𝙳𝙾𝙶’𝚂 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙷 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙱𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚈, 𝙽𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙶𝙸𝙰 𝙲𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝚃 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽.

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 :  rowan picard 𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 :  ro , ro-boat ( baby sister ) 𝙰𝙶𝙴 : twenty-four 𝚂𝙴𝚇𝚄𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 : asexual 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 & 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂 : he/him & they/them 𝙾𝙲𝙲𝚄𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 : receptionist at the world’s dingiest motel,  super 8 𝚁𝙴��𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 : on the edge of town, just before a crossroads. one road leads further into mercer hollow ; while the other seemingly diverges away from civilization.   𝙰𝚂𝚃���𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙽𝚂 : pisces sun, virgo moon, aquarius rising

𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚃 

when rowan was born, he was graced with the world’s strongest set of lungs. as his mother would go on to tell him, he was a baby determined to ensure everyone around him knew of his presence by frequently wailing and screaming. he would eventually grow out of this but forever coined the nickname “little wolf”, gifted by his father,  after the old wise tale of the boy who cried wolf. if you asked just about anyone, they’d tell you just how beloved rowan was, which only makes what happened next all that more heartbreaking. 

eight years later, rowan’s father awoke to a day just like any other. he placed his boots on his sock covered feet, pulled his lunch from the fridge ( admiring the handwritten note by both his wife, and his son who assisted in the preparation ), and grabbed his keys from the ceramic bowl next to the front door. he left for work, but he would never return home. you see, richard picard worked in the mining field and though the risks always stared him straight in the face, he’d reassure his wife that he’d always make it home.little did he know, it would be a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep.

with a single mother working two jobs to meet their needs, it was true that rowan didn’t see his mother all that often. though young, he was riddled with the death of his father at every turn and in some ways, this made rowan grow up faster than other children his age. in addition, ro found the educational system to be far too straining on his otherwise overloaded mind. often did he find himself getting stuck in what he referred to as “a loop of thoughts”, distressing in nature and causing him to have extreme panic attacks. one of which got the school’s counselor involved and resulted in rowan being diagnosed and treated for ADHD and anxiety. nevertheless, he would eventually drop out at the ripe age of fifteen. 

around this time, molly had begun to see a new man, whom she’d go on to introduce to her son. rowan would be the first to tell you how much he resented the thought of john replacing the position of his father, but came to understand ( through the support of his mother and john alike ) that no one could ever replace him. thus, rowan leaned into the new living dynamic and eventually was thrilled to welcome his baby half-sister, aria, into the world just two years later.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃 

when rowan became an adult, his mother assisted him in renting out a trailer near the edge of town. though disheveled and falling apart at the seams, rowan spent a good amount of time fixing the place up and restoring it to its former glory. it’s his biggest pride and joy, and the perfect little home for him and his german short haired pointer, dottie. 

hope was on the horizon for rowan. only, not the type of hope that’s a shining light leading you out of a dark cave. no, not that hope, but instead hope mercer : mercer hollow’s most shining star, and news of her disappearance swirled around the town like an inescapable plague. worst of all, rumors came about that led to rowan being questioned by the police. what rumors, you may ask ? well, they weren’t entirely rumors, per se. anyone who attended high school alongside rowan and hope would tell you that rowan wasn’t all that fond of mecer hollow’s golden girl. some speculated this was why he dropped out, a feeble attempt to flee from her ; while others stated they’d patch up their differences and rowan was even invited to hope’s birthday party… but if that was the case, didn’t that mean he was at the site where hope was last seen ? only time will tell. 

𝚅𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙻 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚂

though treated for a short time for his struggles with ADHD and anxiety, rowan has since fallen off the bandwagon. upon turning eighteen, affording the medication and treatment of these disorders was unrealistic to a high school dropout, stuck in a minimum wage job. so it’s often he suffers in silence, simultaneously feeling guilty for being otherwise “defective”, as he would put it. 

rowan is a music connoisseur. he loves nearly every genre, but leans more towards folk, rock, & classical. he’s also versed in playing the guitar *wriggles eyebrows* & harmonica. 

if he were to hit reset on his life, he would’ve chosen to stay in school and go on to seek out a profession in the culinary field. instead, he spends his free time foraging  nearby forests with his dog, dottie, who assists him in hunting. the ingredients he finds he uses to make his meals, and only once in a blue moon will head to the grocery store for items he otherwise can’t obtain himself. 

[devilsgatewayhq]

Name: Dean ‘Jagger’ MacNally Age: 60 Occupation: Bike Shop Owner in Eureka, CA Time living in Tonopah: He has been in Tonopah for the last month, he is visiting town, currently residing in Eureka, CA Neighborhood: Webster Village Gang Affiliation: President of the Sons of Silence - Eureka Charter Face Claim: Karl Urban

Biography:

Dean MacNally was born in a small Catholic infirmary on the outskirts of Dublin. When he was just four weeks old, his father abandoned the family, leaving his mother to raise three young children on her own. Growing up in poverty, Dean made the difficult to quit school against his mother's wishes at the age of 15 in order to assist his mother with whatever bills he could. Despite his strong Catholic faith, Dean could never find it in his heart to forgive his father for abandoning their family without a trace. By his eighteenth birthday, he had made the choice to leave Ireland behind for good. His oldest brother had already established a life for himself in a quiet Nevada town named Tonopah Valley. With the help of a friend he had met on his various encounters with the law, Dean was connected with someone who had been in expert in document forgery, and in no time had a one way ticket to America. Before turning twenty-one, Dean had found himself in trouble with the law more times than he could count. By his twenty-fifth birthday, he had landed himself in prison for eight months, serving a sentence for a felony drug offense. He found a home in Tonopah Valley, the same place his brother had called home prior. Here, he met Sonny Walker and with the help of Michael Monroe, Serkan Tezel, and five others the Sons of Silence was founded. The motorcycle club ignited a deep passion for Harley-Davidson, and he spent his time and effort helping it become what it now is today. It was in this new chapter of his life that he crossed paths with Allison "Ally" McAbee, and they immediately fell head over heels for one another. Dean and Ally wasted no time tying the knot in an intimate courthouse ceremony. Rowan was their first-born child, and shortly after, they were blessed with twins, Riley and Maeve, followed by the arrival of Aiden a few years later. Dean cherished the role of being a father even more than being a member of the Sons of Silence. It allowed him to become the father he had always wanted for himself.

Over time, Ally received a call from her father, delivering the heartbreaking news of her mother's passing. He needed help managing the small family diner her parents had owned for over fifty years. Without hesitation, Ally agreed, and Dean supported her. They made the decision to relocate to Ally's hometown in Eureka, California. All four of their kids were grown, and the only one who agreed to move had been their youngest, Aiden. Dean, in turn, secured a transfer to the Eureka charter, gradually working his way up to earning the president patch. However, upon learning of the growing tensions brewing back in Tonopah, he, along with a few other Eureka members, decided to come to the aid of the Tonopah charter, offering help and manpower wherever it was needed.

Headcannon:

His best friend was Cole’s uncle, Michael.

He was Cole Monroe’s sponsor as a prospect.

His favorite word to use is cunt, no reason.

He goes by Jagger, a nickname he earned while in prison.

Ally is the absolute love of his life, and he would do anything for her.

He loves being a father more than anything else in the world

[matrotas-muse-hub]

Potential Muses - Part Two

Continued from here, same deal as before. I’ve listed eight more muses below the cut, muses which are not officially part of this blog but may end up on here at some point. If there’s any interest in knowing more about them or starting a thread, hmu!

Lionel / Guardian - Lionel was originally a tool - nothing but a shield for a faction called V’aarn Athil, a radical sect of psychics who fought the void’s encroachment on the material plane. After his base was wiped out, he lost his memory and was found by a farmer. When he instinctually used his psychic powers to heal the farmer during a prayer, the farmer mistakenly assumed Lionel had been blessed by the god of light, and had become a paladin. Lionel, not knowing any better, became a follower of the light god. He travels the world seeking to help others using psychic powers he believes to be divine.

Ren’dalar Eventide (art by filibusterfrog​) - A shadar-kai swiftblade who died trying to stop a mad wizard from completing an ascension ritual to transform himself into a dragon. The ritual went haywire, trapping the mad wizard - now a dragon - and Ren’dalar in an endless cycle of reincarnation. The two have been fighting and killing one another for thousands of years.

Rob Wylde - A human sellsword who spent many years as a bandit. After killing some adventurers in a brutal conflict alongside the remnants of his old band, Rob, the sole survivor, finished the adventurer’s contract in hopes to cash in on their quest. He was scouted by some other adventurers when he showed up at the guild and, with no bandit troupe to return to, he decided to try the life of a “legal” mercenary.

Sir Rowan Adelard - A knight by social class alone, Sir Rowan Adelard is a skilled warrior who uses feints and sleight of hand to get the upper hand in combat, a man with little aversion to “fighting dirty.” He is a staunch defender of the people, and some rumors say he even has ties to a rogueish syndicate. But that would be preposterous, seeing how he’s a knight and all!

Theran Stryker - Son of the famed hero Scout Stryker, Theran has always lived in his fathers’ shadow. He grew up on the road, never having a stable home and never knowing his mother who died giving birth to him. Forced to learn the ways of the warrior from a living legend of a father, Theran fell short, unable to match up to his dad. After failing a particularly important mission, his father decided Theran needs to travel alone, as he cannot accompany him forever. While his father saw this as a push towards independence, Theran saw it as a betrayal, as if he had been disowned.

Vaelin Goldenbrow - Vaelin is a high elf scholar who taught at a rather diverse school for people from all over the world. After his only daughter marries a human, Vaelin fears for her happiness as she is bound to far outlive him. Wanting his daughter’s marriage to be a long and happy one, Vaelin sets out on a journey to unlock the secrets of chronomancy - looking for a way to make his new son-in-law age much, much slower.

Vivian Song - Vivian, or Vi (pronounced “vee��) as some of her friends call her, is a narcoleptic noblewoman. Frail since birth, she is visited by a god in her dreams who promises her health in exchange for her worship. She accepts, finding herself slowly becoming more physically fit. Once she feels confident, Vivian steals some armor from her family’s storehouse and runs away, hoping to make good use of the divine magic she’s now acquired. She dreams of getting rich quick and retiring, sleeping all day in a comfy bed with servants to bring her food and tend to her needs.

Willow Belvari - Willow is a priestess, a holy woman known for having an interest in scholarly pursuits. What people don’t know is that she is in fact a void fanatic, obsessed with eldritch knowledge that would break the mind of a lesser mortal. She dreams of joining the horrors who lurk beyond the stars - not as a servant, but as an equal.

[leiawritesstories]

I'm so happy for you, congrats🫶🫶🎉

This prompt: "I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

thank you so much 🥹🥹❤️ i ADORE this prompt

Word count: 1,154

Warnings: kids being uncontrollable as usual

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm home!" Aelin called, pressing the button to close the garage door as she stepped into the house. She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief, set down her leather tote, and counted exactly eight seconds before two sets of little arms flung themselves around her legs and waist, two excited little voices squealing for Mama! "Hi, my loves," she laughed, ruffling her children's hair. "Let Mama actually get into the house before you tackle me, alright?"

"Tackle?" Brannon perked up, hearing his favorite word. At ten years old, he was just as sports-minded as all the other boys in his class, and he'd had to learn that if he wanted to tackle, he needed to be outside in the Whitethorn-Galathynius family's expansive backyard.

"Of course that's the only thing you hear," Aelin chuckled to herself. "Not literally, son," she told him. "I'm way too strong for you to tackle."

"Are not!" To prove his point, her son charged, barely able to latch his arms around her waist before she swept him up into her arms, tipped him over her shoulder, and carried him into the playroom.

He shrieked with laughter. "Okay! Okay Mama! You win!"

"That's right, B," she teased, squeezing him in a brief hug. "Hi, my boy. How was school--aaaaaand he's gone." She laughed to herself. "Boys."

"Hi Mama!" Seven-year-old Evie gleefully took Bran's place in Aelin's arms, snuggling herself up close against her mother.

"Hi, lovey," Aelin beamed, holding her younger daughter close. "How was your school day?"

"Good!" Evie's grin was a perfect replica of her mother's. "I got a gold star on my spellin' test, an' I pushed Timmy off the monkey bars!"

Aelin's shoulders shook with mirth. "Evalin, honey, haven't we talked about how you shouldn't push other kids on the playground?"

Evie shrugged. "He said Sana's bow was stupid."

"Hmm." Unable to resist her little mirror image, Aelin winked. "Well, I understand that, then. But next time he says something like that, you need to tell the teacher, okay?"

"Okay." Evie bobbed her curly blonde head. "Wanna see my gold star, Mama?"

"Of course I do!" Aelin let her small daughter lead her back out to the kitchen, where she found her eldest child sitting at the dining table, working on a set of math problems.

Evie tugged her past the table before she could stop and say hello. "C'mon, Mama!" Aelin followed her to the fridge, where her latest spelling test was stuck to the door with magnets. "Look!" Evie pointed proudly to the gold star adorning the top of the page.

"Well done, lovey!" Aelin gave her a high five. "You're way better at spelling than I ever was."

"Really?"

"Yep." She nodded. "Don't tell anyone, but I couldn't spell 'banana' the right way until I was Lana's age."

"And you still can't," Rowan teased, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, just below her ear. "Hi, my love."

"Hi." She turned to face him and pressed her lips to his, earning a full set of disgusted noises from the children.

"Ugh, you guys! Gross!" Lana protested, throwing an eraser at Rowan's back. The oldest of the Whitethorn children, she was almost thirteen and growing up far too fast for Aelin and Rowan's liking.

"Just give it a few more years," Aelin whispered into Rowan's ear.

It was her husband's turn to shudder. "Don't remind me," he groaned.

She chuckled. "I won't. Not when you're cooking dinner, at least." Leaving one last kiss on the edge of his jaw, she went back into the dining room and sat down next to her oldest. "Hey, Lana."

"Hi, Mom." Lana was busy with her math homework, pencil scratching against the paper as she worked through a problem. Aelin could tell from the set of her daughter's jaw that she was stuck, so she waited quietly until Lana groaned and tossed her pencil down on the tabletop.

"This is stupid," she grumbled, scowling. "Stupid math. Why can't they just give us equations instead of stupid word problems?"

Aelin retrieved the pencil and placed it next to Lana's math book. "How far did you get?"

Grudgingly, Lana turned her paper so Aelin could see. "I literally don't even know." She pointed to the problem in the book. "I kinda get what it wants me to solve for, but it's not helpful at all with how to solve it."

"That's why it's called a problem, sweetheart." Aelin read the problem over a few times and looked over her daughter's work. "You've got it just about halfway solved, actually."

"No I don't! There's three variables, I only found one!" Lana was on the verge of wailing.

Aelin kept her voice calm. "Do you know how to use a system of equations?"

Slowly, Lana nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. Here." Aelin rewrote the two equations Lana had found using the variable she'd solved for. "Now can you substitute so there's only one variable?"

"Um..." Lana took the pencil back and scribbled. "Yeah! I can." As she grasped the problem, she wrote faster, until she'd solved for the second variable, plugged it into one of the equations, and found the third. "I did it!"

Aelin checked the math and nodded. "You did it!"

Unexpectedly, Lana got up and squished her mother into a hug that was all lanky limbs. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Aelin smoothed Lana's messy, light blonde hair and let her go put her math book away, homework done for the night. She went back into the kitchen and took the stack of plates from Rowan's hands. "Let me."

He flashed her a grateful look. "Thanks, babe."

"Ewwwww," Lana grumbled, wrinkling her nose as she passed by.

"There's our almost teen," Rowan chuckled, fondly.

Aelin came over to get silverware. "Stop saying that, it makes me feel old as hell." She pressed her fingertips to his lips before he could make a smart remark about how she was old. "I know, I'm not twenty-two anymore, but neither are you, my love." She smirked. "You've always been old."

"Rude!" Checking to make sure the kids were far out of eyeshot, he flicked the dish towel at her, swiping it across her ass.

She flashed him a wicked grin. "Careful with that, old man. That's how we found ourselves in this situation in the first place."

His face flushed a delightful shade of scarlet and he coughed, choking on whatever he'd been about to say. "I love you so much," he wheezed, regaining his breath.

"I love you more." Silverware set, she slipped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his shoulder. "I know we're already married, Ro, but I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

His deep green eyes went soft. "I'd marry you again every day, Fireheart."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

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@silentquartz

[silverstonewolf]

Spirit time

Ch 1

The great escape

Once a pond a time, everyone was given magic by spirits, but one day, the highest family killed a spirit. Because their son died by absorbing two elements spirits, so magic was gone, but the spirits had to give it to some because it gets too much. But thanks to the kingdom that killed the spirit, they caught the kids and used it in war because they knew how to stop magic.

My name is Rocco, and I am master of wind magic, we had nice rooms, but they were cells that we were only let out for war. So I never met everyone else, but I knew their were six of us of each different element. One of us was unique, I had smart clothes, and when I ear foot sets to my cell, the princess cousin opened the cell door. "You will come with me," she said, holding a chain. "Do you have permission to do this?" I ask there was enough silence for me to get it that hadn't but still like to know who gave her the key. "Who cares you are going to come with me to show off your power to our enemies and Allies," said said put on the chain.

We went to the party, "say hello to the master of wind," she said loudly. A man came up to me and asked me to show off my powers, I made a table float behind him. "Wow, now let's see if you could stop an arrow mid fly," an Archer shoots at me, I stop the arrow. Everyone clapped "well we'll what is going on here, why have you taken him out of his cell thinking it was ok?" Said the princess (Carla),"I thought it would be a good idea to show off our power," said the cousin. She looked terrified, "take his back to his cell and cousin, I think we need a word to continue with the party," said Carla.

When we entered the build of cells, suddenly the gaurds gave me the keys and took off the chains. I realised that Celenia, the psychic magic user, was a wake. I unlocked the other four: Aiden, the user of fire (shot brown hair, eyes and was eight years old), Chione the lce user (ginger hair, green eyes and was ten years old) Rowan the earth user ( brown hair, green eyes, brown skin and was fifteen years ago) Draven the user thunder and lightning user ( blonde hair, blue eyes and was ten years old) as for me (grey hair, brown eyes and I was twelve years old)

We ran to where they were keeping Celenia to help get us out of here together. We found her in a well we pulled her up she was soaking wet I use the last key yo free her chains and ran off. Luckily, we got to abandon the house in between the border before Carla put up guards to every cross to the next county. One of us went down to the lake and found an unconscious man who was dressed like a samaria. She brought him home, and I dropped the deer I have brought for food, "Chione, why did you?" I ask,"his hurt," I tried to argue, but she kept repeating. So I gave up and brought him in, everyone else protested, but just like me, I gave in and healed him up three days later as I went to get water a bunch of knights turn up surrounding me. I was terrified, but just then, the Samurai come be held by Chione. "Stop these kids, save me," he told them they took us to a mirror in a tree "first I am sorry, how your kind is treated in this time, but this mirror can take you to a different time" said the samurai "why should we believe," said Rowan "you don't just try why would I lair when am this far from home". He had a point, so we went to the mirror, and we were shoved into a different time.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 34 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Vince

Aspen wasn't kidding when he said he'd leave us notes for Rowan.

The stack of papers was like a manual, even though we were only babysitting him for two days but it was probably for the best, considering I hadn't a clue what a one-year-old could and couldn't eat.

His favorite toys, snacks, bedtime stories and many other schedule-related things were listed.

Bedtime was at eight but Sarah added a note that it was more like nine these days, depending on story-time.

Dinner was around six and breakfast was at seven.

It all seemed very structured but it was for the best and included plenty of time for playtime.

Aspen may be a bit of a helicopter parent in some ways but it was evident that he'd do anything for Rowan.

I guess I could see his reasoning for not bringing Rowan into his conversation with Arthur.

"One last thing," Aspen said as I set the stack of instructions back on the kitchen counter.

He tilted his head in the direction of the bedrooms.

"We've been trying to get him to sleep in his own bed but if he makes a fuss, just bring him to bed with you. He likes being between us or on either of our chests and if..."

"We're going to be late, babe," Sarah interrupted, returning with Rowan and a tote bag.

"Do you have everything?"

Aspen held up the small duffel bag before sparing both of us a glance.

"Sorry, just making sure."

She rolled her eyes.

Rowan kicked his legs in a silent plea to get down on the floor.

Once down, he dragged his teddy bear with him, clinging to Simon's leg like a magnet.

"It's only tonight, they've got it."

Simon nudged Aspen's side.

"You've left me alone with Cedar how many times? Rowan will be fine."

"Alright, alright. We're going."

He bent down to hug Rowan.

"Be good, okay?"

Rowan nodded silently, content with rubbing his cheek against Simon's leg as Sarah knelt to kiss Rowan's forehead.

"Love you."

Rowan held a palm to his lips and extended it with the cutest "muah" sound.

That must've been something new he picked up since I've seen him.

Simon melted at the sound, looking at me with a pout.

Aspen smiled at his son before looking back at us.

"See you two tomorrow."

"Have fun," I told him.

"You'll enjoy it there."

There was uncertainty on his face but he nodded.

"Maybe and don't forget..."

"No unsupervised cooking got it," I said, holding my hands up in surrender.

"Don't worry."

Sarah looked at us incredulously before waving and heading toward the front door.

Aspen ruffled Rowan's hair before following Sarah.

That left the three of us.

Surprisingly, Rowan didn't seem all that bothered that his parents had left, which was truly miraculous in my mind.

I assumed most kids would be upset about not having their parents around.

Rowan shifted his attention to me as Simon picked up the packet of instructions and notes.

"Un-un," Rowan tugged on my pants, holding up the teddy bear I had gifted him.

"I told you he never lets it out of his sight," Simon said.

I knelt, gripping the other hand of the teddy bear and watched, amused, as Rowan swung his arm as if the bear was on a swing.

"You excited to spend time with your uncles?" I asked.

He nodded, reaching his hands up.

Careful to hold onto his stuffed bear, I scooped him up into my arms and rested him on my hip.

"How about we help Un-Un with lunch first? You hungry?"

He nodded, resting his head against my shoulder.

"Nom nom."

"Alright, you heard the little man."

My eyes met Simon's, who looked up from the packet of papers, bewildered as when I read through them.

"He requires sustenance and so do I."

Simon gave us a playful grin before pursing his lips.

"What's the magic word?"

Rowan laughed and said in his cute tone...

"Peas."

"Close enough."

"Alright, let's see what your mom and dad left in the fridge," Simon said.

"Did you know Aspen even wrote out what size his food should be? Down to millimeters. I swear he wasn't like this before."

"Well, Rowan is his child, not kid brother, so maybe?"

Simon shrugged before pulling out a few containers.

"He raised Cedar since he was two but maybe it is because Rowan is his kid. He even printed out a step-by-step guide to the Heimlich maneuver for children. I'm seriously going to have to talk to him about this. I doubt Sarah would've put that in here."

Watching as Simon expertly diced the chicken and fruit into the Aspen-approved-sized pieces, I couldn't help but rest my head against his, amazed by his precision with knife skills.

He fed a couple of pieces to us as he plated Rowan's food and made more adult-appropriate-sized pieces of fruit and chicken for us.

Rowan kicked his little legs in excitement at the taste of the strawberries and banana slices, eager for more as we tried to get the highchair set up.

"I know I've asked this before but would you want children?" I said tentatively about halfway through our lunch.

"Of course, later down the line, not right this second or anytime soon."

Simon turned with an amused smile.

"What would you say?"

"Me?" I blinked, honestly not expecting the question to be directed back at me.

Like before, I never imagined what it would be like to raise a child, even believed it was a terrible idea but watching Rowan play and sit in the high chair with us for lunch or even show off his favorite toys to me left a warm feeling in my chest that I had never experienced before.

Maybe it was Rowan's innocence of not knowing what I had done in the past or his sense of compassion and how adorable he was.

Even Xavier's kids left a similar feeling, bringing out a side of me I had never thought possible.

Was it a protectiveness or a sense of longing for a childhood like theirs, unmarred from the stresses of what my family had gone through?

Either way that still didn't mean I necessarily wanted to raise a child of my own.

"I don't know," I managed to respond.

"I really don't."

"I don't know either," Simon said.

"But things may change where we decide later. We don't have to make up our minds right away. It's a big decision."

I nodded.

"I just thought I'd ask."

"I appreciate these kinds of questions."

Simon smiled reassuringly.

"They're important. If we're asking each other questions, I suppose there's another big one."

I tilted my head.

"What about?"

He smirked with a curious glint in his eyes.

It felt like an eternity waiting for his response.

"Would you mark me?" his words were gentle, followed by an even gentler...

"Eventually."

Far gentler than the first time he had brought up marking.

I remembered that moment as clear as day.

'Mark me.'

This time, it was formed as a question that warranted a choice.

Back then, it had been more of a plea rooted in fear and anxiety.

Then, it had been at a time that was neither the right timing nor in a place where we would have truly appreciated it.

The entire idea of it now did have an appeal.

Bearing each other's marks was more than just a statement piece to other wolves, it was a commitment to your mate, representing an unshakeable bond.

Of course, I wanted that.

Even when we had bared all our vulnerabilities that night together for the first time, my wolf's instincts wanted me to indulge in marking our mate and bear each other's mark in an intimate display of our union.

Yet, I still held reservations about allowing myself that one selfish action but it'd be a lie to say that I didn't want that.

Even if it was selfish or too soon, I wanted that.

So before I could talk myself out of it or combust in embarrassment for thinking about it too long, I muttered a faint...

'Yes,' under my breath, followed by an even fainter...

'I would'.

There was a pregnant pause where those words seemed to echo, not even Rowan had made a sound during that candid confession and then, Simon smiled in a way that made all those little nuanced fears and past inhibitions fall apart.

It was truly one of his many super-powers.

"I would too."

[x-ceirios-x]

aric ashfair

bio, character sheet

face claim images

Aric Ashfair is mentioned a handful of times before officially meeting him, as he is the only immediate family left for his children, Rowan and Jensen. His role in the Council has an informal title and job description but incredibly important responsibilities. He is the right-hand of Consul Malachi Dieudonné and was regularly sent to Institutes that were falling out of order to fix them. Among the Clave, he had a certain reputation, that is only reinforced by his commitment to the meetings at the Gard through the beginning of the book.  When the city was attacked, the adults fled the Gard to find their children and protect them to the best of their ability. By the time he, the Penhallows (his in-laws that he was living with in Idris), and the Lightwoods make it back to the house, everyone had left to fight off the demons, except for the two youngest: Max, who was dead on the floor, and Jensen, knocked unconscious not far away.  During the final battle of the Mortal War, he partnered with a miscellaneous warlock, one he only briefly knew the name of. Afterward, he was the one to arrange the election of both the new Inquisitor and the new Consul. Several people around him said he should take one of the two jobs since he had so much experience working with both people, but he offered the Consul position to his sister-in-law, Jia, instead as he knew she had a level head. And anyway, he had made a promise to an old friend that he would be there to support her in her grief, as well as his promise to his son to help him, too. 

-

Aric made the trip back from Idris in an attempt to help his son cope with losing his best friend and try to mend his relationship with his other child in the meantime. He quickly became Maryse’s right-hand and the person she went to for advice—whether it was dealing with her grief or the investigation into the demonic murders. He was assigned by the Clave, since he was leaving Idris, to assist Maryse in Clary Fairchild’s training, where he got to know the girl a little. What time he wasn’t working with her, he was most likely fighting with Rowan or curled up in the library drawing, where Maryse very regularly found him.  He doesn’t have much direct involvement with the plot, but does appear at the end when the Conclave appears at the Church of Talto, and finds time to talk to Rowan about all the questions they’d had recently regarding their mother. From this conversation, things begin to get better between the two—and they only get closer due to the effort to find Jensen, who disappeared that same night. 

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the new york institute makes the trip to alicante, where rowan runs into family they haven’t seen since they were eight.

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frustrated with the search for camille, magnus takes a break from the institute’s search for her and reconnects with members of the ashfair family he hasn’t seen in ages. he is finally able to face aric, who sheds some light on the full story of his wife’s death and the children’s move to new york.

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rowan finally has the chance to ask the questions they’d been asking for eight years, to aric, who is finally ready to answer them. while explaining, he reflects on moments in his life with the people that were the most important.

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the council decided that aric ashfair’s talents were best used in moscow, near wrangel island, where the words had recently broken rather than continuing the search for jensen and jace in new york, but rowan isn’t ready to let their father go.

chapter rewrites

city of glass, chapter 11: fire and sword city of glass, chapter 15: things fall apart