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maandags · 4 years ago

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I don’t know if it was ever confirmed, but imagine being the one to find Sokka’s Meteor Sword (that he lost in the final battle) and returning it to him.

two more days.

two more days’ walking, and you’ll get to the Capital. two more days’ walking, and your weeks-long journey will finally come to an end.

you nibble on the piece of carefully wrapped bread that you purchased in the last village you passed through. it’s a sunny day, so you found a tree casting shade to sit and rest in. beside you sits your backpack, your bedroll, and tied to your pack the dark metal sword.

it was an insane idea, at first. after scouring the battlefield -- burned, then flooded -- for survivors, or corpses, or anything salvageable at all, you found the sword sticking up from ash-covered soil like it was a thing from legend. black blade against a blackened background, it gave you chills the first time you laid eyes upon it.

a rare sword, it is. not many weapons are that well-made, and made of this particular material. you took it home, cleaned it, polished it. never really knew what to do with it, to be honest -- you’re no swordsmaster. you’re a traveller. someone who knows people and places.

but you took it with you, wrapped in cloth and bound with twine. foolish, in hindsight; it could so easily have been stolen off of you. it still could be. but you did it anyway, not even knowing what to do with it, and by some sort of miracle you were still in possession of it when you ran into a few members of the White Lotus.

well-worn travellers like yourself know a lot of people in a lot of places. you’re no official member of the White Lotus -- though you’d say the relationship you have with them is one of understanding and respect. some well-known figures rank high amongst its members. you’ve had tea with General Iroh of the Fire Nation, as well as King Bumi of Omashu, and other such figures.

but that’s none of your business, of course. you’re merely a traveller.

however, you had to admit that the small Fire Nation village of Bluevalley is not where you’d expected a White Lotus headquarters to be.

“why, hello, Y/N. how nice that our paths cross again.” the General’s eyes twinkled.

you tipped your hat in respect -- a bow without bowing -- and smile. “an honour, as always.”

“tea?”

“that only seems appropriate, doesn’t it?”

Iroh smiled. “indeed it does.”

it was a cozy yet functional headquarters, with a low table and no windows. you didn’t waste time looking around. that was not what you were there for. you were there to have tea; a traveller enjoying old friends’ hospitality.

none of the men asked you what you were doing here, and you did the same. you talked about small things; your recent discoveries regarding various flora and their applications, spiritual talk; vague enough for there to be no real substance to the conversation, yet enough to keep it going nonetheless.

but your attention was focused on Master Piandao. known master of swordfighting, teacher only to those he deems worthy. you thought he might be interested in the blade you carried.

“master Piandao.”

he slowly took a sip of tea, then looked at you. “yes, Y/N?”

“I have something I’d like you to take a look at.”

Piandao raised an eyebrow. “do you, now?”

you nodded, gingerly setting your teacup on the table and turning to retrieve your bag, which sat against the wall, next to the door. sticking out of the flap was the sword, wrapped in fabric to conceal and protect the blade. you heaved it out, walking back to the men and laying it out across the table, working to untie the knots. you watched Piandao’s face carefully as the fabric fell away, trying to gauge his reaction.

but he was not a high-ranking member of the White Lotus for nothing, and his expression revealed nothing – until his lips curled into a faint smile. “yes. I know this blade.”

it surprised you, because in reality you hadn’t expected him to know this particular sword out of every sword he must have encountered in his life. but he apparently did, and you leaned forward, interest increased tenfold. “you – you do?”

Piandao lifted it, inspected corners and balance, before gently setting it back on its fabric encasing. “yes. and I’m sure you have heard of him too.” he smiled at you, eyes twinkling. “he is part of the Avatar’s closest friends, after all.”

you stare at him blankly. “you’re not serious.”

“I can assure you I am very much serious.” he cast another look at the sword.

on the other side of the table, Iroh nodded. “Sokka is very skilled with it. however, I was under the assumption he lost it during the Battle of Sozin’s Comet.”

you shrugged. “I think he did. I just found it, cleaned it. figured I’d try to find its owner.”

Piandao looked at you, estranged. “that is very noble of you, Y/N. not many people would have done the same thing.”

you winked at him. “I’m not like most people, Master Piandao.”

he laughed softly. “that, you aren’t.”

that had been weeks ago. you’d figured you’d just make for the Fire Nation Capital, since that’s where the Avatar and his posse reside at the moment. what to do when you get there – how to actually meet Sokka, actual war hero and probably bearer of a bunch of other titles by now – was a whole other problem, but you’d cross that bridge when you got to it.

two more days, and you’ll get to the wall.

you knock back the last of your water – you’ll have to find a pond or a spring soon to fill it – and stand, swinging your pack onto your back, heaving a sigh. two more days.

the walls of the Capital are even taller than you imagined them to be. inside, you can tell city life is buzzing, people bustling around, shouts and laughter drifting through the air; they’re celebrating still, despite the defeat of Ozai and the ascension of Fire Lord Zuko being a solid two months past already. you’ve heard that the Capital has never been this alive.

“halt.” four guards at the gates, stopping people, exchanging a few words with them, then sending them on their way. you tilt up your hat, putting on your least mysterious smile.

“what is your business in the city?”

“I’m merely a traveller, sir. just passing through. my cousin has a tea shop here.” the lie flows from your lips with ease.

the guard looks you up and down, not looking entirely convinced. “anything to declare?”

“no, sir.” you’d tried to conceal the sword as best you could. now, barely the tip of the blade was sticking out of your pack, and you’d managed to cover that up pretty well with your bedroll. they’d have to go rummaging through your stuff to find it.

the guard looks you over one more time, then shrugs and steps aside. “all right. enjoy your stay.”

you smile at him. “thank you. I will.”

it takes you another day to reach the inner Capital inside the Capital. hm. here was where you’d need to either be creative, or ask to meet Sokka. how successful of an endeavor that would be, you weren’t sure of. you’ll just have to… figure something out.

okay. attempt one. you leave your pack at the cheap inn you stayed at the previous night – it stings a little, but also, there’s nothing in there you can’t get in the city. life as a traveller taught you to not get too attached to your pack or its contents. except, of course, for the sword, which you strap across your back. it’s wrapped in one more layer of dark green cloth, to better conceal its shape.

a walk around the wall tells you it is… very well guarded. there are two points of entry, both gates watched by four guards. the shift change is well coordinated, so sneaking in during it is not feasible either. and even if you did manage to slip past the guards, the gates themselves are bolted shut from the inside.

there is simply no way for you to get in.

as you’re racking your brain, wondering if you’re really going to risk getting arrested for this sword and this man you don’t know and you’re being so dumb and such an idiot – the gates open, and there he is. just stepping out of the palace grounds, like it’s no big deal. like there aren’t countless youths stood outside the gates, just waiting for him to appear, maybe smile at them, give them even the tiniest bit of his attention.

you stare at him, because the coincidence is just too hysterical. he’s giving the people around him awkward waves and even awkwarder grins, clearly having no clue what to do with himself around all this attention. he’s flanked by two guards – not surprising – and slowly makes his way across the square. you follow him with one eye, frantically scribbling a note at the same time.

you can’t just walk up to him. hi, hello, you don’t know me, but I have a sword to give you. the guards would be mad to let you approach at all; they’ve probably been trained to shield him from any human interaction that isn’t with his trusted friends – all of them just as unreachable for someone like you.

but a note… you can slip him a note. he doesn’t look like someone who would shy away from a cryptic message asking him to meet you in the park an hour after sundown. does he?

so you get up and hurry after him, eyes latched onto the blue of his clothes, tracing the lines of his body and observing the spring in his step with a crooked grin on your face. he doesn’t look like a war hero, that’s for sure.

but you often found that looks can be deceiving, and that those who might not look like much have the most to offer.

you catch up with them in a busy street – even busier, after Sokka’s arrival – and manage to sidle up to them unnoticed.

one of the guards looks around, disapproval clear in his expression. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just take the carrier. someone of your status –”

“no, no, no. the carrier – are you serious? that’s, like, Zuko levels of pretentious. I already feel super awkward with all this – uh – attention –” you roll your eyes – “I mean, not that I don’t enjoy it, but, you know –”

his voice gets drowned out by the noise of the crowd, and you shake your head, shuffling forward, waiting for an opening that’ll allow you to slip the note in his pocket. you don’t have to wait that long; it’s easy enough to pretend you trip and fall, having to grab onto Sokka’s arm to keep yourself from crashing down. the guards raise their hands, alarm sparking in their expression; but Sokka ignores them, helping you up.

“you okay?”

you nod, tucking the folded piece of paper between the folds of his clothes. “yes, thank you. I’m sorry.”

“don’t worry about it,” he says airily, with a smile that makes you understand all of a sudden why so many people are fawning over him left and right.

he frowns, opens his mouth, and you duck your head down, grateful your hat conceals most of your face. someone calls Sokka’s name. he looks up, and you use the moment of confusion to slip away into the crowd.

you’re sat on wall surrounding the parks, watching the twinkling lights spreading far into the city, waiting for him. the sword is still strapped to your back. one knee is drawn up to your chest, and you keep an eye out on the park gates.

sure enough, after a while, a figure enters the park that can only be him. you grin, waiting until he’s passed by you before you drop to the ground and clearing your throat.

he whirls around, hands moving to grab the hilt at his side – a sword. you smile. “hello.”

“do I know you?”

“no, I suppose you wouldn’t.” you tip your hat. “you don’t have to be so nervous. I’m not going to fight you.”

“I don’t know that.”

“sure. I’ll be gone before you know it, anyway.”

Sokka scowls. “why did you ask me to meet you here?”

you reach behind your back, shooting him an irritated look when his grip on his sword tightens. “relax. I just have a present for you.”

“if you try anything –”

“what, your friends will jump out from hidden corners and murder me where I stand? come on, man,” you scoff, holding the package out to him.

Sokka looks at it suspiciously for a moment before he sheaths his sword, accepts the package, starts to unwrap it. when the cloth falls away and the sword is revealed, his eyes go wide as saucers, and his knuckles go white around the hilt of the blade. he looks at you, then at the sword, back at you, back at the sword.

“this is – this is my spa – I mean – my meteor sword,” he stammers. “I – I lost this. months ago.”

“and I found it. and got it back to you.” you shift your weight, cross your arms. “Master Piandao says hello, by the way.”

Sokka is looking more and more confused. “you know Piandao?”

“something like that.”

he exhales shakily, holds the blade to his chest. “who are you?”

you smile, already planning to make your mysterious exit and never see him again – or something like that. maybe you’ll stay a bit. Sokka intrigues you.

“a traveller.”

#request #atla request #sokka x reader #YOURE WELCOME SOKKA #pure !!!! he loves his sword sm

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years ago

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Fury of Their Scales [TEASER]

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon au, wyvern!yoongi, herbalist/human!reader

teaser warnings: dragon yoongi stuck in trap bc he’s a dumbdumb, y/n having a mental debate whether or not to help, flashbacks/mentions of a very short war

teaser w.count: 900+

actual fic w.count (pre edit): 17.4k kill me

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: heh i didn’t actually proof this teaser, so the spelling errors? we don't acknowledge know them

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it. As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound. You spun around, nearlying dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk.

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated. You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible. Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal.

It was a dragon.

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable. Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning was hallucinogenic and you were too careless about what you were brewing?

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body sieed up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it. You didn’t hide immediately this time. You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orpheus of yourself was telling you to run.

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly. A wyvern you think it was called.

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs.

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature. With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away and shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain.

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of either digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the treeline where you knew it was barbed at the end. It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head.

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness. A dangerous wonder, but wonder no less.

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory. They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for. Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places ahd decided to set their sights on the dragons. If they could tame the mighty beasts and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed.

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into dragon country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 200 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals. Burned alive, crushes, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell.

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor. The humans wanted war, so be it. The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being. With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the humanlands and burned it to the ground.

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past. Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer. They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the humanslands. Why was it so far from dragon country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps was banished by the king of dragons you had known about. Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out.

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for the dragon.

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks. It was just stuck, injured and helpless. Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of woodland desence now that it was preoccucpied with this stupid bear trap.

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own. You were discovered and there was no going back down.

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

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When the Sun Goes Down

This story is a heavily edited adaptation of “Gabriel-Ernest”, written by H.H. Munro in 1909. I owe this whole story to @tinyplaidninjas (thank you for helping me fix my werewolf story dilemma).

This is almost 3k words long, fair warning

tw: kinda horny, nudity

---

"There is a wild beast in your woods," said Lambert, as the two men were being driven to the station. It was the only remark he’d made during the drive, but since Geralt had talked incessantly about his latest publication in the Kaedwen Journal of Medicine, his half-brother’s silence had not been noticeable.

"A stray fox or two, or perhaps some wandering brownies. Nothing more formidable," said Geralt. His brother said nothing.

---

"What did you mean about a wild beast?" Geralt asked later, when they were on the train platform with their bags and tickets in hand. Geralt was bound for his private woodland estate while Lambert was making his way into town to visit with friends.

"Nothing. Probably just my wild imagination running away with me again. Here comes the train," Lambert rushed.

Geralt found it odd, but said nothing. Perhaps he should not have gone on at length about the Medical Journal in the carriage. Perhaps Lambert was tired or overanxious about his meeting with Aiden. It had been years since the two college friends had seen each other in person and Geralt knew that his brother held the other, equally brilliant artist in high esteem. Surely, that was the reason for Lambert’s odd dismissal of his questions.

---

Once he’d returned to his estate and unpacked his bags, Geralt decided to take a stroll through the woods. He often took a leisurely walk in the late afternoon; the trees were full of chittering animals and preening birds this time of day, after all. The natural scientist and medical doctor found the great outdoors to be brimming with new discoveries. He wanted to pick everything apart and reassemble it accurately and down to the last minute detail. He wanted to know why certain animals behaved the way they did and how they communicated with each other. He wanted to know why the little white flowering plants in his yard only bloomed every other day. He craved the answer to the universal question of why as it applied to everything.

The doctor would often spend long afternoons sitting absolutely still in the center of his garden, observing the wildlife as it moved around him. Last summer he’d even managed to get a wild rabbit to eat out of his hand.

Now, though, the forest path seemed uncomfortably quiet. Had a larger predator taken to wandering his grounds? If so, he’d need to send word to a local hunter’s lodge and request assistance in ridding himself of the pest. As he was debating who to inquire after, he came across an unusual sight.

On a shelf of smooth stone overhanging a deep pool just to the side of the path, a boy of eighteen lay asprawl. He was drying his tan, dripping limbs luxuriously in the light of the late-summer sun and he had very few cares about doing so, according to his state of complete undress. His wet brown hair, (disheveled as it was by a recent mussing with his long, slender fingers) and bright blue eyes, so light that there was an almost cat-like gleam to them, were aimed in Geralt’s direction with a sense of lazy watchfulness.

He was an unexpected although not unwelcome apparition, and Geralt found himself quite ignoring his eldest brother’s good advice of “thinking before one spoke”. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest in what he hoped was a stance of great authority.

"What are you doing on my property?" he demanded. “And have you no shame? Trespassing for a cool dip in the water I could forgive, but you don’t even have the proper clothing to do so.”

"Obviously I came here to have a swim and sun myself," replied the boy. “I rather like how it feels to be bare beneath the warmth of the open sky.”

"Where do you live?" Geralt inquired, stepping closer. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run. To flee this place and the presence of his estate’s mysterious visitor.

"Here and there within these woods."

"You can't live in the woods," Geralt frowned. “It’s not proper.”

"They are very nice woods," said the boy. To Geralt his tone sounded almost patronizing. Borderline condescending. The doctor bristled and stepped forward again.

“You can’t possibly be surviving out here like this!”

“I am rather proficient at fending for myself.”

"Then where do you sleep at night?"

"I don't sleep at night,” the boy winked one of his cornflower eyes. The movement had Geralt’s head reeling and his heart thundering within the confines of his waistcoat. “That's my busiest time, dear heart."

"What do you eat?" the young professor and doctor finally asked. It felt as if that question had been on the tip of his tongue since he’d seen the strange creature come into view and only now did he have the adequate terror in his veins to ask it.

"Flesh," said the boy. He said the word slowly and carefully, almost as if he was running his tongue along every later to catch their flavor.

“What a horrible thing to say.”

“Hmm, it is the truth,” the slender youth rolled onto his back and tilted his head over the stony ledge. His mop of chestnut hair dangled down towards the water and he gazed steadily at the doctor from upside down, “I am plenty good at catching hares and birds and mice and men. I am not picky, you see. I gobble them all up.”

Geralt nearly choked on his tongue. His face flushed and his cheeks grew hot with indignance (and perhaps something else, a stirring in his belly that he quietly ignored). The audacity of such a creature! Such open and frank fliration was unheard of, especially since he was so indecorously nude!

"I can’t imagine you’re eating well. The rabbits on my estate have never been easy to trap or catch or corner. Not even my father’s best games keeper could do it, and that man lived on the property for nearly sixty years.”

"It is easier for me to hunt them than it is for your game keeper to trap them, Dr. Bellegarde,” the boy winked again. The sound of his name in the stranger’s mouth had Geralt mildly panicked. Did he know this improper young villain? Had he forgotten the boy’s name? Had the lad followed him back from university? The strange young man added another cryptic statement, “At night I hunt on four feet. It’s faster that way.”

"I suppose you’re referring to a dog?" Geralt offered. “And wouldn’t that be considered poaching, you hunting on my lands at night with your hound?”

The boy laughed a weird, low laugh; it was pleasantly like a chuckle and disagreeably like a snarl. Both portions of the sound had Geralt’s heart racing even faster in his chest. It felt nearly as painful as he’d expected from cardiac distress and he breathed evenly like he’d been taught to do under such duress. Slowly, the panicked feeling faded away and he gazed back at his trespasser with narrowed eyes. “Why are you laughing, then?”

"I don't think any dog would be very anxious for my company, especially not at night. We wouldn’t get along with each other, me and a dog.”

Geralt began to suspect (with a deep and primal sense of ever growing dread) that there was something odd and uncanny about the strange-eyed, silver-tongued youth lounging above the pond. He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips, “Well you can’t keep sleeping in the woods.”

“I fancy you’d rather not have me in your house.”

The prospect of this wild, naked animal loose in the professor’s neatly ordered and well-kept manor was certainly an alarming one. Geralt glared and shook his head, dislodging some of his long white hair from its ribbon.

"If you don't go then I shall have to make you.”

The boy flipped onto his front in a flash and plunged into the pool. In the span of a moment he had crossed the short expanse of water and flung his glistening body half-way up the bank where Geralt was standing. For an otter the movement would not have been remarkable; for a boy it was sufficiently startling. Geralt’s leather-booted foot slipped as he jerked backwards involuntarily. After his arms windmilled for a moment and his balance failed him, the young doctor found himself almost prostrate on the slippery weed-grown shore of the pond with those cat-like blue eyes mere inches from his own.

He raised a hand to his throat instinctively and the boy laughed again; a laugh in which the snarl had nearly driven out the chuckle entirely. Then, with another of his astonishing lightning movements, the naked youth plunged out of view into a yielding tangle of weed and fern.

"What an extraordinarily wild animal!" said Geralt as he picked himself up. Then he recalled Lambert’s remark on the train station’s waiting platform: "There is a wild beast in your woods."

As he meandered his way back towards the manor proper, Dr. Bellegarde began to turn over in his mind some of the various local occurrences which might be traceable to the existence of his astonishing young savage.

According to the local paper, gathered the day previous by his valet, something had been thinning the game in the woods lately. Poultry had gone missing from several neighboring farms and factories, hares and rabbits were growing unaccountably scarcer, and complaints had reached the local constabulary of lambs being carried out of their pastures in the hills. Could it be possible that this wild boy was really hunting the countryside with a pack of obedient hounds?

The oddly pretty creature had spoken of hunting "four-footed" by night, but then, again, he had hinted strangely at no dog caring to come near him, "especially at night." It was certainly puzzling.

And then, as Geralt was running his mind over the various odd occurrences he’d heard reported from the village in the past few months, he came suddenly to a dead stop. The young man that had gone missing from the milling town upriver two months ago--the accepted theory was that he had tumbled into the millwheel and been swept away; but the boy’s mother had insisted that merely run away with some village girl (who had also disappeared).

He thought of the village youngster, who’d been applying to attend Oxenfurt at the time of his mysterious yet apparent death. Perhaps they were one in the same; but then, why in all the world, would a college hopeful by lying naked in the woods outside Dr. Bellegarde’s lonesome manor house? It was odd. Very odd.

"Where's your voice gone to, Doctor?" asked his housekeeper, Ms. Merrigold. "One would think you had seen a wolf on your walk."

At breakfast next morning, Geralt was overwhelmingly conscious that his feeling of uneasiness regarding yesterday's episode with the boy had not wholly disappeared. He had decided to go into the village and talk with Lambert about the “beast in his woods” and learn what his brother had really seen that had made him so twitchy. With his day planned and his mind slightly more settled, his usual cheerfulness partially returned. The doctor hummed a bright little melody as he sauntered to the morning-room for his customary cup of tea with Ms. Merrigold.

As Geralt entered the morning-room and scanned the familiar space his humming made way abruptly for a quietly shouted curse. Gracefully laid out atop his red velvet settee, in an attitude of almost exaggerated repose, was the boy from the woods. He was drier than when the doctor had last seen him, but still he remained entirely naked. Every inch of his lovely, soft-looking skin was on display; Geralt averted his eyes as quickly as possible and tried to hide his blushing face from the grinning minx.

"How dare you come in here like this!” he huffed.

"You told me I was not allowed to stay in the woods," said the boy calmly. He propped his elbow up on the cushion and laid his cheek against his palm, languidly stretching his legs out at the same time. The doctor breathed deeply and kept his eyes firmly locked with the strange young man’s.

"I did not invite you to come here!"

“Then I have misunderstood,” the boy sighed. The hand that had been supporting his head moved down and flattened against the settee. His arm straightened and his torso lengthened with the movement. Now sitting with one knee resting slightly bent atop the other, his hair messy and his shockingly blue eyes half-lidded, he looked like the painting of a young Cupid.

“Triss!” Geralt called, desperate for another person to intervene on his behalf. To save him from this tempting little beast. “Triss, fetch one of the pantry boys. We have a guest and he’s...he’s quite out of sorts.”

“Yes, Dr. Bellegarde,” his housekeeper called back. “Right away, sir!”

The boy giggled from the couch and Geralt whirled back to look at him. His finger was playing gently with the plumpest part of his lip and the young professor found himself flushing yet again. “Yes, Dr. Bellegard. Hurry to cover me up right away.”

---

Lambert was less than helpful when Geralt first asked about the beastly reference he’d made at the station.

"My dear father died of some brain trouble," he explained, "So you will understand why I am averse to dwelling on anything of an impossibly fantastic nature that I may see or think that I have seen. I don’t even know that I saw anything, you understand?”

"I am a medical doctor, Lambert, of course I understand. But what did you see?" Geralt inquired. “I must know.”

"What I thought I saw was something so extraordinary that no really sane man could dignify it with the credit of having actually happened. I was standing at the end of the lane near your manor property, half-hidden in the hedge growth by the orchard gate. I’d been watching the dying glow of the sunset and committing to memory for use in a future painting. Nothing extraordinary, of course, but beautiful nonetheless.

“It was then that I became aware of a naked boy. I assumed that he was a bather from some neighboring pool who was standing out on the bare hillside, also taking a moment to watch and appreciate the sunset. His pose was so suggestive of some wild faun of Pagan myth that I instantly wanted to engage him as a model, and in another moment I think I should have hailed him over to my hiding spot to discuss such a matter. Just then, however, the sun was lost over the edge of the horizon and the last of its warm orange glow slid away. The landscape was left a cold and gloomy grey.”

“And what of the boy? Your language is poetic, Lambert, but I’ve grown rather impatient!”

“The boy was gone, Geralt!”

"What? Did he simply vanish into nothing like some ghost or phantom?"

"No; that’s the most terrifying part, you see," answered the artist; "That’s the whole reason I didn’t want to tell you about this problem in the first place. Geralt, my dearest brother, on the open hillside where my momentary muse had been standing a second before, there was a wolf instead. It had shaggy brown-black fur and huge, gleaming fangs. Most terrifying of all were its huge, bright blue eyes.”

Geralt’s mind whirled with the new information. Lambert had indeed given him the details he’d so desperately needed to draw his final, strange conclusion: the boy was a werewolf! He thanked his younger half-sibling and made his departure, hurrying back to the manor as quickly as possible.

He had to make it home before dark.

---

“The moon isn’t full tonight,” the boy sighed. Triss had managed to wrestle him into a clean shirt and a pair of cropped blue breeches but despite the clothing he still seemed to ooze a sense of easy, naked confidence. The slim brunette was draped across the chaise lounge of Geralt’s personal study, his bare feet hanging over the arm.

“So?”

“So I will not transform into the horrible monster you fear I shall become,” he sighed again. He rolled his eyes in Geralt’s direction and smirked. “You and your housekeeper are safe. As is your cook, your pageboy, your valet, and your terribly friendly mare. Roach, right?”

“Hmm. You’ve been through my things?”

“Triss allowed me to wander the house and the grounds but then she forced me to bathe again when I came back in,” he frowned. “Soap does not agree with me and neither do these prickly, constricting clothes.”

“And your name?” Geralt asked, finally. “Since you have proven to know me already.”

“You may call me Jaskier,” the boy said, popping up from the couch. He offered his hand, which Geralt shook rather nervously. “And I’ve already decided that I’m going to be staying for awhile.”

“Why should I allow you to stay?” the young doctor bristled. “What have you to offer me in return for room and board?”

“I have no money, but I’m a wonderful gardener and I’m sure that there are, Dr. Bellegarde, other ways we can pass the time together. I sense that we are kindred spirits in many ways.”

Geralt blushed and swallowed hard, blinking down at the boy, whose fingers were playing with the material of the doctor’s cravat. His blue eyes peeked up through their bordering black lashes and Geralt’s will crumbled to dust. “Alright. I suppose you can stay; if it keeps the village safe.”

“Very safe,” the werewolf, Jaskier, smiled. His delicate little paw with its long, lithe fingers spread over the material of Geralt’s silk waistcoat, right over his heart. “So very safe, indeed.”

#geraskier #a very bouncey halloween #bouncey's halloween oneshots #werewolf jaskier #victorian era #hh munro #gabriel-ernest #doctor geralt #professor geralt #flirty jaskier #creature jaskier #inhuman jaskier #rich geralt #wealthy geralt #victorian au #witcher victorian au #werewolf au #romance

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theofficersacademy · 4 years ago

Photo

Days grow ever shorter as the cold deepens across Fódlan, sprinkling the first powders of hoarfrost from its icy hand. Roaring fires become the eye of every household, a halo of red to match that which cloaks the silhouettes of wolves under the growing moon. Their distant howls strike fear into the hearts of shepherds in the dark.

The north winds of Faerghus bring not only the promise of winter, but whispers of concern surrounding a particular Kingdom nobleman. Rumor has it that this man has been acting strangely - erratic one day and lethargic the next, occasionally mumbling gibberish under his breath. His sudden disappearance has resulted in calls for the Church to investigate. After the fiasco in Leicester, however, those who are called to look into the matter have been ordered to shed their uniforms and make their identities a secret. As eastern Faerghus settles in for an impending snowstorm, no one will bat an eye at travelers searching for warmth and shelter.

Golden Deer Mission: Investigate Duke Philip!

GD Mission Board

Faerghus' winter storms come early this year. The bone-deep chill you feel as a strong wind blows through your group is worse than the priests back at school forewarned. Unless you're planning to become a popsicle, you should do as the Faerghans do and try to build yourself some shelter.

You stick out like a sore thumb in your school uniforms, and they're not quite enough to keep you warm either. On your travels, you come across a ransacked village, scorched and trampled... it's an opportunity to find more appropriate clothes, even if you're mixed on the idea of becoming a second group of bandits. What’s more, the destruction seems fairly recent...

Ill-prepared for the weather as you are, you manage to get lost in the forest just outside of the location you’re supposed to be investigating. Part of your group builds a fire to stay warm as the sun begins to sink, while the other sets out to regain their bearings. It’s just as dusk sets in that the trees come alive with low moaning and the sound of something being dragged through the leaf litter. You brace for a monster, but instead you find humans - around half a dozen - with ashen skin and their eyes rolled back into their heads. One swings at someone in your party and sends them flying into a tree, but unfortunately your attacks aren’t so potent. Standard weapons bounce right off of these things. Fortunately for you, Nessie of the Knights of Seiros is with you, and one strike from her gauntlets reveals the monster’s weakness: Relics. [Grants +1 Reason or +1 Brawling]

With Nessie’s help, you make it to the village at last. There seems to be some sort of ritual or festival going on - one that doesn’t correspond to any holiday you’ve heard of. Not to mention that decor seems half-rotted already, and the houses look to have been neglected for weeks. There are people in dark cloaks, their faces concealed, shuffling in between crowds of those same corpse-like monsters you fought in the forest. Except Nessie recognizes a handful of them by name, and you come to the cold realization that these are people. Dressed in robes yourself, you go unnoticed by whoever is leading this strange ritual. Try to keep a low profile as you observe. [Grants +1 Faith]

You’re on the lookout for a Duke Philip - the man supposedly in charge of this village, and the one whose report you initially received. There’s a house at the far end of the village with doors and windows both completely boarded up. But through a hole, you manage to see a glimpse of a shadow pacing back and forth at all hours of the day. The cloaked figures in the village also seem especially interested in this place, as there are often three or four patrolling the area at any given time. Make too much of a commotion and your mission will be in jeopardy.

NEW ! As time goes on, you begin to notice a pattern. Occasionally one of the villagers will be called to the house on the far end of the village. Some never return. Others return more irritable and irrational, similar to the people you discovered in the forest. It's reason enough to try investigating the building more thoroughly. You find a way in through a trap door, where stairs lead you down into a basement, dark save for the familiar glow of magical energy. It's hard to comprehend what half of these contraptions are for, and even harder to make your way around the room. Your foot catches on something, and clanging metal precedes a strange "beeping" sound that comes from a tall tower-like object in the center of the room. You already have a bad feeling about this, and the bolt of thunder magic that shoots from the tower only confirms it.

NEW ! Over the past few days, the buzzing noise in your ears has gotten louder and louder. It breaks your focus and deafens your thoughts, and as your friends approach you and voice their concerns, your only thought is to push back against them and shut them up. Perhaps permanently. As your mind begins to fray under whatever has been influencing the villager's, can your friends bring you back to your senses?

NEW ! It started with only a few to begin with, not enough to prove conspicuous. But as the month drags on, there's no two ways about it: the shambling villagers going through the worst of this curious blight share at the least one thing in common. Each of them bears a lance, all the more suspicious for how normal the weapons appear at a glance. A closer look may reveal more to the puzzle, though that will first involve prying a villager from their prize - an endeavour that will require planning lest you bring the horde of them upon yourself. [Grants +1 Lance]

Non-Mission Tasks

The local cats and dogs of the monastery have been anxious recently. One of the students, who had been known to play with them and leave them food, has recently gone missing. Your investigation into the matter leads you behind the abandoned cathedral, where you find a giant Demonic Wolf crouched over her body. As it licks her hands, growling and whining, you spot a bright pink ribbon tied around its neck, nestled in its matted fur. The wolf takes notice of you, steps forward protectively, and growls low.

As the days grow colder, students balk at the idea of walking around outside in the cold, especially late at night. Whispers of a shortcut quickly spread through the student body: if you're coming from the library, you can go through the gallery hall to get back to the dorms. It's not long until this path is marred by rumors of an armored thief stealing people's books and essays late at night. There's a reward if you unmask the criminal, but soon enough you find out that there's more to this criminal than you thought. Too bad the realization only comes when one of the armored knights on display is magically brought to life, brandishing its sword at you. [Grants +1 Sword]

Cold weather is on the rise, and the students are eager for new games to entertain themselves with. Luckily for them, the mage club has been happy to provide! Inspired by the visiting wyvern flock last moon, they have devised a new contraption: the magicanical bull! Combining magic and mechanical parts, this faux bull does its very best to throw its rider off its back. The name of the game is to last as long as you can! How long can you hold on before you fall? [Grants +1 Riding]

The staff of Garreg Mach are calling for volunteers! On a nearby snowy mountain sits a large, abandoned tower from days long past. Lady Rhea wishes to bring this building to this century and create a recreational space for the students. There are floors to sweep and beds to make, but the discovery of a large hot spring tempts you to play hooky....

With only weeks to practice for the White Heron Cup, students busy themselves by ordering their ball attire and practicing their dance moves. Even the stodgiest grump can't help but feel energized by the excitement in the air.

NEW ! A recent snowstorm at the base of the Oghma Mountains has blown a group of lumberjacks into Garreg Mach's castle town. The Society of Axe Personnel (proudly referring themselves as "SAP") are grateful for the assistance that the Church has offered, and in return they decided to put together a lumberjack skill competition! Practice climbing trees, logrolling in the fishing pond, and carving wooden statues with your axe! [Grants +1 Axe]

NEW ! Strange magical happenings are a dime a dozen these days, and the administration has taken notice. For the students' safety, the faculty have devised a new winter session course in defending against magical attacks, geared towards those with little resistance. If the sight of heavy armor and broad iron shields doesn't earn a groan from the students, the words "mandatory for all Officers Academy students" in the course description certainly will. However, the talented mages in the student body have some tricks up their sleeves. One morning you arrive at class with the armor already in use, the students using their shields to bash at a flaming ball of magic and bring it closer to the goalposts on one side of the field. One of the players notices you and calls out. They just invented this cool new game, do you want to play? [Grants +1 Heavy Armor]

Frequently Asked Questions

How does the divided task board work?

This season’s mission is assigned to the Golden Deer. Therefore, tasks from the ‘GD Mission Task Board’ must be undertaken by someone that is affiliated with the Golden Deer.

Tasks from the ‘Non-Mission Task Board’ have no house restriction and can be undertaken by anyone.

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads. You’re also more than welcome to worldbuild on your own, using these prompts as a base.

How do I claim the skill points?

In order to qualify for the skill point, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and preferably feature the task being completed; however, the point can still be claimed even if your muses narratively fail the task (failure is sometimes just as fun to write as success, after all). You do not need to message the masterlist to claim your skill point.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person! However, you can only claim the skill point for each task once.

What if my partner leaves or drops a skill point thread?

If the dropped thread has at least 2 notes (not counting likes, only reblogs with replies in them) and you have hit at least 400 words on your end, you may still claim the skill point.

Remember to use (and track!) the #toa open tag for any open threads, and you can also post a link to your open thread on the appropriate Discord channel! If you have any other questions or concerns, shoot us a message through the masterlist or on Discord!

#toa mission #mission: incognito

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jinmukangwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Wild

Summary: When he wakes up from the shrine of resurrection, Link notices that he doesn’t always feel like a he. Link learns to be okay with that.

Notes: I guess I should make it known that I identify as the gender I was born as, this was largely requested and I really wanted to write it. I tried to be as factually correct and respectful as I could, but if anything seems super super wrong and incorrect to anyone genderfluid reading this, please kindly let me know via ask or pm and I will make sure I correct it.

Warnings: slight dysphoria, angst, fluff. I tried to make this an overly positive story, focusing more on the self discovery than the angst. Please enjoy. :)

-o-o-o-o-

He'd been this way... for as long as he could remember. It wasn't like he knew the words for it or what to do about it the moment he first opened his eyes in the Shrine of Resurrection, but from day one he'd sometimes fell… off. Off like his very skin was wrong, and it would give him a sick feeling down to his gut for no reason at all, and he'd know nothing to do about it; but then a day or a few hours would pass and he'd feel normal again, comfortable in his own body.

The first month he was on the great plains and the entire time he switched between those feelings. Normal, and off. As he continued onward, he began to notice that the off days were sometimes not the same, sometimes he'd feel it in his chest other days in his stomach. It was an urgency, telling him he needed to do something, but he had no idea what to do.

He never told the old man, and he never thought too much into it until he left the plains, stepping into the vast land of Hyrule for the first time, never realized what the feelings were until he saw a woman for the first time.

A traveling brother and sister getting attacked by some Bokoblins. He rescued them with no hesitation and introduced himself after, excited to meet actual people—he was almost afraid there were no people and he would be completely alone in his journey. What happened next was while he spoke with the brother about directions to Kakariko, his eyes trailed over towards the sister. Right at that moment, something stirred in his chest and without any warning his mouth opened in an "O".

That's it. That's what the weird feeling is. Looking at her, in that moment, his features felt sharp, his hair too messy, his hips too skinny and even his butt and chest seemed too flat. He doesn't understand why, but that was it. It has to be. Something about his brain, his body, or his very soul just wanted to be like her for a few hours or a day. He wondered how he could do that.

The brother yelled at him, ripping him out from his epiphany, scolding him for making googly eyes at his sister, and the sister laughed and gently calmed him down, saying Link meant nothing of it. He couldn't help but watch as her wrists moved, she talked with her arms and it was graceful, joints bending gently and slowly instead of jerky and to the point like her brother as he threw his arms up angrily. She took a step forward and Link copied how she did it, smoothly, walking with a slight tilt to her hip, without even thinking as he stepped towards the brother to explain that it wasn't what it looked like. The moment he opened his mouth and said the first word, he realized that that's wrong too. He stopped, cleared his throat, and raised his voice a bit. Not perfect… but it felt better.

Thankfully, the brother deflated rather quickly and didn't try to start any arguments or fights. Turned out he's just very protective. The sister insisted that she'll be fine and that she can take care of herself, and Wild agreed.

"She's going to kill me someday," the brother said, and Wild stopped in his tracks because it's the first time he'd ever heard that word. Right now… she wanted it to apply to herself.

She thanked them and took a step back, about to head back to that pathway strewn with ruins and monsters, and as she walked back, she noticed the brother lift his entire arm to wave goodbye, while the sister lifted her arm up and simply tilted her hand back and forth. Link copied her, and it felt right.

The rest of the evening, she moved with a gracefulness she never thought about before. Something changed in her and it felt so very correct and okay that the pain in her chest was hardly recognizable, not even after she left the ruins and began her journey to the towering twin peaks before her.

She saw travelers along the way, and she'll walk with a slight tilt and she'll wave with her wrist and talk with a bit more gentleness and pitch than what she thought was normal back at the plains. She noticed that some of the female travelers all had a slight difference to their style of clothes while compared to the men, and she thought about that a lot, thinking of how that applied to her, all the way to the first stable.

She was exhausted by then, so she didn't think too much about it, in fact, she was thinking about close to nothing the moment her head hit the pillow.

-o-o-o-o-

When Link woke up, he felt different again. He thought that if he did what he did yesterday, he'd feel okay again. However, it didn't feel right. Raising his voice, swaying his hips, brushing his dirty hair out, none of it worked. The feeling remained as he finally gave up, choosing to just act how he normally would and not put on an effort to act like a woman. Though… he didn't want to be male either.

Whatever the case, he had limited sunlight, and he had to push this new predicament to the side as he finally caught a horse, named it Harold, and left his way towards Kakariko.

He found that this new feeling didn't last as long as the one from last night. The urge to act more like a woman lasted the entire day, while that one left by the time he was heading up the last stretch of hill towards Kakariko. He forgot all about it by the time he returned the maracas to Hestu. He was back to feeling comfortable in his skin, and it didn't even bother him when Hestu referred to him as "Mr Hero". It felt right in that moment.

It felt right the rest of the day, all the way until he found himself giving rupees to the village inn and once again, settling down for a good night's rest.

-o-o-o-o-

The next few weeks he spent traveling towards Hateno to fix his camera, and those weeks were filled with a mix of three feeling, two he knew what to do about, the third was a bit harder. Luckily, the third one didn't come around that often, and when it did it only lasted a few hours until it switched back to one of the others.

The first one was easy, it's what he was born as. Or… what he's pretty sure he was born as, with just a few months memory but with a body more than a dozen years old it's sort of hard to tell. Anyway, it's when he feels content as a male. It's the one that sticks around most, lasts the longest too, which is good. It's the easiest to be. The second one is a tad bit harder but he's getting used to it. It's when he refers to himself as "she/her" and just naturally feels better in his skin when he switches up his habits to be more woman-like. On days like that he—or in that time it would be she—would just copy what other women around her do. It lasts just shorter, if not the same amount, as the days when he's male.

The last one… he was still trying to figure out. He doesn't feel comfortable doing either woman things or male things. He's tried going by she, or he, tried brushing his hair, tried wearing less form fitting shirts (like what he did when he's a she… on those days it's extremely uncomfortable to show off a flat chest…), tried to be overly manly, and none of it worked. He hoped that someday he'd figure out. Thankfully that last feeling never lasts long.

When he—yes he was definitely a "he"—finally stepped into Hateno, he decided to explore a little bit first. He ran into a kid who found something neat just off the main road of the town, and one thing led to another and now he knew of the existence of some sort of anti-Hylia shrine that can take, morph, and return his strength and his energy for a suspiciously steal of a price. Whatever the case, he will not be going to that again unless he absolutely needed to. If fact, he should probably find a way to destroy it.

Anyway, after he got done with that, he turned around and stopped before he could even take a step. Atop the hill… was a very peculiar looking building. He didn't need any of his previous memories to know that a house with a flat, square design was very uncommon not only in Hateno, but for probably all of Hylia.

So he ran up to it.

Naturally.

There were multiple structures of the same kind around the first building he saw, built just out of the main section of the town to either stand out or because the style wasn't welcome in the middle of civilization. Maybe a bit of both.

He spent a few minutes gaping at these very strange buildings before he caught sight of a well trod yet overgrown path leading further out of the town. Without thinking much about it, he decided to follow after that trail even though there was a shrine literally just to his left and that should take priority, but with Link being, well, Link… he'd rather explore just a bit longer before he had to suffer the headache of another pointless puzzle.

Almost immediately he caught sight of a very old and very cozy looking cabin. It's style was exactly like the rest of the town, except for it's missing bricks, collapsed chimney, missing door, and shattered shingles. It looked… like it belonged to something old, something unwanted, something far away.

He wanted it.

He picked up his pace, a rush of excitement filling his chest and fueling his limbs. He ran over a beautiful bridge over an equally beautiful stream that appeared to lead to a pond he hadn't noticed before which seemed to settle right next to where that evil statue thing was. In all a few moments, he was standing there, looking at the full magnificence that is the ran down and withered building.

Already, visions of fixed up structures, a painted door, a sign with his name, and a fully furnished kitchen and living room filled his mind. He took a step forward, heard a crash, and whipped his neck over to where a rather large man with the biggest hair-do he'd ever seen was smashing a double headed hammer into the wall of that beautiful house, making an already big hole bigger.

"H-hey!" He squawked.

And, well, the next thing he knew his was sitting around the campfire with Bolson, Karson, and Hudson talking about buying a home. Turned out, Bolson liked him, and was willing to lower the whopping price of 50k rupees down to 3k and 30 bundles of wood. Doable. He'd just have to sell his hoard to opals, topaz, amber, and rubies to reach that goal money wise. Wood wise… he'll probably have to find an ax of some sort that he won't mind shattering to chop down that much wood. It probably wouldn't be acceptable to bomb the whole forest outside the peaceful town. He'd like to stay on the good side of the masses thank you very much.

After that was all sorted out, Link had a minute to truly look at the men in front of him. Hudson looked like a genuine gentle giant, he spoke with a soft voice and his features seemed to be in a permanent state of relaxed and non threatening. Karson definitely acted and looked the part of an energetic side kick towards Bolson, always ready and rearing to begin any task asked of him, a grin practically plastered onto his face. Now... Bolson confused Link. Everything about him was completely different to what Link had ever seen. He wore brightly colored clothes, raised his voice a few notes higher as he spoke, and walked with a sassy bounce to his step that Link definitely hadn't seen on another person, let alone another man.

Right then, the thought occurred to Link… that maybe Bolson is like him. Maybe… right now Bolson called himself… herself?

He'd have to work up the courage and ask Bolson about it later…. when they're alone.

"Thank you for letting me have a shot at buying the house," Link said, standing up and holding out his hand for a shake. It was easy to talk to them, proof of that was that that sentence had been the longest he'd spoken since he had woken up. "You are all very kind."

Bolson held out his hand, his wrist flicking smoothly and practiced, and grabbed hold of Link's hand, shaking with a gentle bounce. "Of course," he said, smiling.

-o-o-o-o-

"Are you a woman?" Link's blurted out. It'd been a week. She… he… it was that strange feeling again… he decided to stay over at Hateno for awhile before traveling back to Kakariko. He did all that he needed to, he fixed his camera, got some pretty cool looking pictures that ping a little bit of familiarity within him, and was even able to upgrade his bombs. He would have left earlier, but he used the excuses of gathering bundles of wood and crickets to stay longer. That would be what he told Impa anyway; that he stayed longer because he had to help some people out. Not because he was delaying asking a question that shouldn't be so scary to ask. He could have left ages ago, he probably should have, but he knew that if he didn't ask… he'd regret it.

Bolson looked up from where he's pounding nails into the wooden floor of Link's house with wide eyes. Hudson was out working on the roof while Karson was sent to paint the outside walls, and with Link leaving the next day… this may be the only opportunity he had to ask the question privately. It's not very often that Bolson was without Karson.

The surprised… almost shocked look on Bolson's face made Link instantly regret everything. He shouldn't have asked. He should have kept his big mouth shut.

He knew he was different. At first it felt normal, but he'd interacted with enough people for long enough to know that males are males and females are females. He hadn't seen one person, not in Kakariko, not in Hateno, not at the stables or on the trail, suddenly refer to themselves as anything different than what they were.

It was only a matter of time that the feeling of… difference and… brokenness sunk it's claws into his gut.

And it's clear now that whatever this was, it wasn't normal. Link was the only one feeling different with his genders.

He's about to apologise, about to ask Bolson to forget it before Bolson can think about how… unnatural Link really was. But then, something genuine flashed across Bolson's face as he pushed himself up. Link remained speechless, afraid, even as Bolson placed a hesitant yet gentle and un-threatening hand on Link's shoulder.

"Do you think I look like a woman?"

It wasn't sarcastic, or angry, like Link expected it to be. He knew what it's like for someone to get your gender wrong. He got it every time a found a korok while he was actually a she and they call her "Mr Hero". She got it every time when someone said "man" at the end of their sentence, referring to her. She wondered why they do that, why can't they just see that sometimes things that are male just don't apply to her.

It wasn't sarcastic or angry, it was curious… and worried.

"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Link, darling, please answer me."

Link looked Bolson in they eyes and he had to fight down a choking noise. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have left it alone. "I-no… I just thought…"

"You thought because of the way I dress and speak that I don't think myself male. Is that correct, darling?"

"I'm sorry…"

Bolson sighed and let go of Links shoulder before he slowly sank to the floor. "Sit with me," he said, patting the spot next to him. Link swallowed and lowered himself down with as much enthusiasm Purah would have when giving away something for free. He looked down. "Gender," Bolson started and Link forced himself to look up at him, Bolson was returning the gaze but was giving nothing away, "gender is expressed in many different ways, honey. I, for example, do identity with my birth gender, but the feminine things interest me greatly. I choose to express myself with traditionally womanly ways and manors, but I've never considered myself apart of that gender. Does that make sense?"

"Yes…"

"Good. Now, you can explain to me what's going on in your cute little head."

Link… wanted to tell him, Bolson had just shared something personal, but… he didn't understand it himself. How could he share his feelings with the other man when he didn't even know how to explain it? He hated how he had spent the last few months trying to explore his feelings and then when asked about them… he freezes up. Why… did he feel ashamed of it? Why did he feel like this was something to hide and to only practice when alone?

He wanted to wave his hand and say it was nothing, that he was just curious, but the way Bolson was looking at him… it made him feel like he already knew what was going on in Link's head and he just wanted him to admit it.

Link won't be able to back out of this. He had a week to get to know Bolson, and if there's one thing he knew for sure, it's that Bolson will not let Link leave the conversation with lies.

"Sometimes…" he… no she. It's she now. The weird feeling was gone, gone so fast, and now she knew that it's she for sure. Or it felt like it should be. Right now… she didn't feel that great. "Sometimes…" her voice was naturally higher, she folded her arms across her stomach, fighting off nausea, how can she say it? How can she tell something so personal and strange and uncommon. Goddesses, she feels more scared now than she had the first time she ran into a Yiga soldier.

Rip it off. Rip it off, take the consequences, just spit it out.

"Sometimes I don't feel like a man," she whispered, her eyes closed, her stomach doing somersaults, her heart pounding so hard in her ears. She can feel something building up behind the bridge of her nose, a warm pressure. "And- and I don't always know what to do about it, but it's been going on since… for as long as I can remember. I just… I'm just sometimes……"

Her chest shuttered and she curled up, clutching onto herself like she would fall apart. She can't look at Bolson. She can't see the shock, the surprise, the regret, the anger, she had never told anyone, but it's too strange to gain a good reaction to it.

Then, a hand placed into her own. "What are you now, sweetheart?" Link shook her head and curled up tighter, trying to close herself off in any way she could. "Are you a woman?"

A sob tore through her throat and the next thing she knew, she was wrapped up in a pair of strong, supportive, gentle arms. Her arms stayed wrapped around herself, she remained curled up, eyes closed, head bowed, even as Bolson pushed her into his chest and whispered words quietly. "It's okay," he said, and she wanted to push him away and scream at him that it wasn't okay, but all she could do was let another sob claw its way out.

It stayed that way… for a long time. In all honesty, when Link finally got ahold of herself, she was surprised that Karson and Hudson hadn't walked in to see what the fuss was all about get.

"I'm not angry with you, Link," Bolson said, "I just want to understand. Can you talk with me or do you want to wait and try again when you feel ready?"

He gave Link an option. An option to get away and forget about it and… and she didn't want to do that.

"I think…" she whispered, "I think I want to talk."

"There is nothing wrong with you," Bolson said, taking the answer as an invitation to continue. "People live in an illusion that gender is black and white, when in fact that is not so. There are grays, and there are all the colors of the rainbow. The world isn't black and white, so why should we be? Whatever you're feeling, whatever you are, you are normal, and you are not broken."

Link nodded, slowly reaching up to wipe at her eyes.

"Do you understand?"

"I…" she sucks in a breath. "I will."

Bolson nodded, looking like he knew he did a good job, but there was something far away in his eyes, something sad and… from experience.

"Just be yourself, no matter what. If you're male, female, a mix of both or neither of them, just be yourself. You'll be happier that way, and people who don't see that don't deserve to know you."

"Okay…"

-o-o-o-o-

Link decided to grow his hair after that. Something resonated with him with that conversation. Maybe the ending when Bolson mentioned that he can be a mixture of the two genders, or maybe neither at all. Whatever the case, he decided that during the short period of times where he would try to do both "feminine" and "masculine" things, he just didn't feel right. So maybe… maybe if he tried out being neither of them, it would be as good as feeling as when he first called himself "she".

The idea of being formless, unrecognizable to either genders… was exciting.

Growing his hair was the first step towards that.

The next day before he left back to Kakariko, Bolson took him to the Kochi Dye shop, not to dye any clothes but to buy some already colored scraps of fabrics. He said the best way for himself to express himself is to wear fun and exciting colors that represent who he is, and that maybe Link should try it out. They bought three scraps, a finger's width and about as long as his forearm, in three separate colors.

"This one is when you feel feminine," Bolson said when they were alone, it dyed a bright pink and it had a simple, little white diamond design on it. At the time, Link was still a woman, so Bolson immediately tied it around Link's wrist. "This one is when you feel masculine," a light blue one, same dimensions but designed with dark red swirls, he placed it in Link's hand. "And this last one is for that pesky third emotion."

It was the hardest for them to pick out. Link didn't like the idea of assigning colors to gender, but Bolson insisted he try it for just a little while, until he figured himself out further. They already knew that pink was traditionally womanly, and blue was traditionally manly, but for an unknown feeling, and unknown emotion, an unknown gender, that was harder to choose out. "What color do you feel during those times?" Bolson had asked.

The color he felt was white.

Not a boring white. The fabric in Bolson's hand was white but also designed with star designs of every color, it was an expensive piece of fabric, a complicated work so colorful and blank at the same time. Yeah, Link definitely felt like that.

The white one was placed in his hands.

Now, the moment he materialized outside Kakariko with the To'loh Naeg Shrine behind him, the pink fabric was untied from his wrist and he replaced it with the blue. It felt so simple, a proof that he had changed in that moment.

Physical. Not in his mind. Real. Valid.

-o-o-o-o-

The only acknowledgement to his new accessory was when Impa gave him a slightly confused look when she happened to look upon the blue scrap of fabric. She didn't say anything on it. Link didn't say anything on it. She just nodded herself, as if the fabric was nothing new. He wondered if she would react the same way to the pink or the white, but he didn't feel quite ready to address that with her.

Apparently, by all evidence, she knew Link from a hundred years ago. He could easily ask her a question that had been eating at him for so long, but at the same time he wasn't sure if he could take the answer. Was he always like this? Did the hero he had to live up to do this? Did he change his colors? Or was this… something new. Something… different.

He didn't know if he could take any answer. He didn't ask. She didn't pry.

After a nights rest and a lot of cooking and playing hide and go seek, she wrapped the pink fabric around her wrist and tightened the strap of her travel bag, making her way towards the uppermost right dot on his Sheikah Slate, showing the location of a Divine Beast. She's told it's past the Lanayru Mountain and Wetlands, at a place called the "Zora's Domain". It's closest, and apparently there's a stable along the way so she could grab Harold and get there even quicker. She's hoping she can stumble upon a few shrines and maybe find some koroks along the way.

Impa said that she should find memories with the fixed camera option, but in all honesty Link would rather not for now.

She waved goodbye to the woman always at the entrance of the village and went on her way, a bounce to her step.

-o-o-o-o-

Sidon was one of the most... interesting people she'd ever met. He seemed totally unaffected by the harsh realities of their world. Not unaffected in the sense that he's ignoring everything, but in the sense that he knew things sucked, he knew his domain was close to flooding and was surrounded by enemies, but he didn't let it put a hamper on him, he didn't let it make him a hard, angry person.

No, instead he chose to smile more, compliment more, encourage all the time. Link's only known him for a few hours, but she already knew that without the constant, constant, encouragement and shouts of praise and affection, she would probably have turned around on that monster infested road to find something easier to do.

But she made it.

Instead of heading up directly to the King's room, she instead explored a little bit, wanting to know the layout of the extremely interesting and unique city, wanting to talk to every Zora, even the elders who seemed to dislike her quite a bit, but instead of being hurt by that, she kept Sidon's words in her heart and continued onward, vowing to prove herself and show that she would never lead a person, especially someone who sounded so nice and beautiful like Mipha, to their death.

She stepped inside the Coral Reef general store pretty late in her exploration, but the encounter she had in there changed everything.

A Goron. That is what… he… she... Um… he… he called himself. Link had conversations with him, stuff about Death Mountain and eating rocks, total normal subjects, but the entire time it boggled her mind how she just couldn't figure out if Reagah was a boy or girl. It wasn't like she needed to know, she just was curious, she hadn't met anyone yet besides Bolson who she couldn't instantly recognize the gender of.

"This is probably going to sound offensive," she said slowly, keeping her expression open and careful, "but are you a girl or a boy?"

She didn't expect the laugh. She expected so many other things, but not a full on belly laugh.

"An understandable question!" Reagah said after he'd finished belting out. He wiped a tear from his eye, smiling widely. "I suppose I would be a boy. All Gorons have the same gender, you see. Long ago, our people adopted the pronouns for males because it seemed most other species recognized us as all males, so we went by that to keep confusion down."

"I- I see. So… what did you call yourselves before?"

Reagah hummed, putting on a thoughtful look as he reached up and scratched his chin. "It was long, long ago. We've always been calling ourselves by "he"… but I suppose it used to be just "them"."

Something stirred in Link's gut, but she couldn't dwell very long on it because she thought she heard Sidon calling her name. She thanked Reagah for being so kind and then walked out, ignoring the glare the elder Zora in the same room was giving her.

Before she traveled up towards where Sidon was waiting for her, she pulled out the white cloth with beautiful rainbow stars and ran it through her fingers.

"Them," she whispered, trying out the word. Something stirred in her gut again, something warm, nice, good.

It felt good.

And for the first time, she looked forward to that third feeling.

-o-o-o-o-

The memory came against her will. Caught her off guard. She went down to help Sidon calm Muzu down after the temper tantrum he threw, and when he looked upon her face, she blinked and she suddenly wasn't there anymore, but sitting upon the trunk of a massive mechanical beast, watching what seemed to be a memory ravel itself out in front of her.

She… he was there. Link, from a hundred years ago, his wound being mended by the Zora girl, Mipha, from that statue. She watched it play out before her, hearing Mipha's words meant only for Link. She could see love, affection in her eyes and she instantly knew where Sidon got it from.

When she returned to the present, she told Muzu and Sidon about her memory, her heart pounding in her chest. Sure, she was happy to remember such a lovely scene at the exact moment she needed it to get on slightly more even grounds with a Zora elder, but also… also because when she watched the memory, her eyes caught on something glinting in the sun. A beaded bracelet around Link's wrist.

The beads were blue.

-o-o-o-o-

She wanted nothing more than to find more memories, to see if that blue bracelet was just an accessory or something like she's doing now (and if they were actual color coded to her gender, where were they now?!). Unfortunately, the well being of the Zora's Domain, Vah Ruta, was more important.

She's told to find shock arrows, and to find shock arrows she went, excitement and hope swirling around her entire being.

-o-o-o-o-

The first time Link used "they" was when the third feeling came over Link, switching she to that new word, as they were running away from the Lynel that finally spotted them as they grabbed their twentieth arrow lodged in a tree.

They should have been terrified, should have been thinking nothing but swears and curses as the Lynel reached for it's bow, but the moment the feeling came over them, all they could think about was how good it felt.

They. They. Thay. They. They.

Over and over in their head that the sound of the bow being loaded with electricity, the impending doom that they could die right here, none of it was noticeable. They sprinted to the highest part of the mountain, to the point where they could practically see everything, even the giant reserve and the Divine Beast below, and without reading the sign, without thinking, they jumped, wind whipping at their hair as they whooped, the sound of an electrical explosion reaching just where they used to be a few moments before.

They hit the water with an amazing splash, and they probably should have been in awe of the Divine Beast in front of them, but nothing could compare to the complete joy and happiness they felt within themselves at that moment.

They.

They did it.

-o-o-o-o-

He forgot to ask her. Mipha was right in front of him. He was dripping, wet, and coming down from an adrenaline high from fighting the blight, and she was standing right in front of him.

He forgot to ask her.

He was in too much awe from seeing her spirit, he didn't think to ask if he was always like this, if he was always switching between three different settings.

He forgot to ask.

It wasn't important in that moment. Calamity Ganon was important.

He still wished he asked her.

-o-o-o-o-

With one Divine Beast on his side, and one corner of Hyrule safer than what it had been in a century, Link packed up his bags and waved goodbye to his new friends. He needed to continue, head to the next place, the next shrine, the next memory, the next adventure. He will return, but probably not for awhile.

From there, the adventure only got harder, but the happiness and contentment within himself never left, always stuck around, always felt so good. Link wore all three colors of fabric with pride and never again was one feared over the other.

Granted, he still didn't quite know what to do with his third gender besides "they" and growing out his hair, but he's working on it.

Excited, he went to Death Mountain next. A terribly hard journey, but the cool fire resistant iron suit he got was… just amazing and so worth it. The most comfortable they'd ever been wearing that white scrap of fabric had been while he was in that suit. It felt so… blank. Like, no assumptions can be based upon it.

It's one of his favorite pieces of armor, sadly he doesn't get to wear it often.

He found that he absolutely loved the Gorons. One called Link a brother while he was actually a… sibling... And they corrected that Goron on instinct. Instantly, the Goron apologized and said "sibling" instead, without any kind of scene made or questions asked.

Gorons are amazing.

Life seemed to be going good, all the way until he gained his second memory.

He hadn't been searching out the others. One looked like it was upon Death Mountain somewhere, but he was too hyped about getting out of the heat and into the village that he forgot about it. It was another statue that dragged him in, one made in the memory of Daruk.

He was so excited, but then he saw that his self from one hundred years ago was still wearing that blue bracelet, and his stomach dropped. He missed most of what was said after.

What if… what if that bracelet was something entirely different? What if it was a keepsake or a gift and it was just coincidentally blue?

After the memory, he pretended to smile, pretended to be ready and raring to go and help stop Vah Rudania, but in reality, the small sliver of hope that Link just happened to identify as a male in both memories got smaller and smaller with each step away from the monument.

-o-o-o-o-

He didn't ask.

Daruk was right in front of him, and he remembered, but he couldn't bring himself to. There wasn't much time, he told himself, he couldn't waste time with something like this.

When really… he was afraid.

So he didn't ask.

-o-o-o-o-

She left Goron City much more down in the dumps than when she went up. She sluggishly dragged her feet down the path of the mountain, not even feeling that comfortable in the fire resistant armor anymore. She kicked rocks in front of her, making a mental plan of what to do next, where to go, when something caught her attention.

She's been here before.

And not in the sense that she's taking the same way down that she took up, but… the cliff to her right looked very familiar.

On instinct, she pulled out her Sheikah Slate and flicked over to the photo album. Her finger tapped on one of pictures later in the album, but it was definitely why it felt so familiar here.

She spent hours looking at this picture, just… wondering where it could be. If she should seek it out. If she should take that risk after the last major disappointment.

It happened here. She took a step forward, hardly thinking about it, another and another until she was overlooking the entirety of Hyrule, the positioning of the castle, the land, the distant mountains, all of it had to be the same. She glanced down at the slate again, she could hardly feel her heartbeat, and she looked up and suddenly she wasn't here.

She was watching a scene from one hundred years ago.

"That cut doesn't look too bad, actually."

The voice came before she saw who was speaking, but she knew who it was. The first voice she'd ever heard.

Zelda.

"You're fine for now."

Zelda's there, crouching next to Link, surrounded by slayed monsters, looking at something on his body. The cut, perhaps. Link from now purposely looked away from her past self, her breath was already taken by the wonder that is Zelda, she didn't need to completely stop breathing when that stupid blue bracelet reared its ugly head.

"But you know, there's a fine line between courage and recklessness."

She was beautiful. Link had always assumed she was, but seeing her in person just exceeded all expectations and imagination.

She talked some more, talked about how the monsters were getting stronger, attacking in greater numbers. Link's past self said nothing, just sat quietly by as Zelda talked, as if he were already used to just letting her ramble.

Then, Zelda stood up, patting the dust off her pants and looking down on Link. "-and, if that's the case. I'm ready to expect the worst. We'll need to make preparations as soon as possible."

Link nodded, and moved to stand up next to her. The familiarity between the two baffled the present Link. So much, in fact, that she forgot to not look at her past self.

The memory faded.

Her eyes opened.

Her heart was so still. She couldn't feel her fingers or her legs and she stumbled backwards like she had taken a blow. She landed on her rear, metal armor creaking and dust rising around her. She was lightheaded.

"Pink," she whispered. To herself. To the sky. To the volcano. To the Eldin Ostrich minding its own business a few meters behind her. "It… was PINK!"

-o-o-o-o-

By the time Link made it to the Rito village, they had gone through many more memories. It was exciting now, to see the bracelets on their past self's wrist, to see the adventure, to find out more about the past to help them with their present. They'd notice that Zelda and Link were not always friends, and during those memories, the ones where Link was forced to be a good soldier, he'd always wear the blue bracelet, or no bracelet at all. But they could see it now, they could almost remember exactly what Link thought way back in those memories. The one where Zelda yelled at Link after following her to the shrine, Link was a boy, he was wearing the blue bracelet to match it. The one where Zelda asked Link about the Master Sword (which still presently needed to be found…), Link was neither.

The memory that snuck up on Link back in the Zora's Domain, Link was a girl. The one with Daruk, Link was a boy.

They can tell now, without even having to search for the bracelet, but it still made them soar when they saw the white on Link's wrist as he rode with Zelda up to the horse statue. Still made them want to pump their first and scream with pure joy when they saw the pink one on Mount Lanayru. Sure, some of these memories were so sad, but it's proof. It's important proof that Link had always been like this.

White while they ran away, when Zelda cried in their arms. No bracelet during the coronation ceremony, but the memory of a pink one hastily stuffed in her back pocket beforehand came back to her too.

They only had a few memories left, and they couldn't wait to see them.

For now, their hair is longer. Reaching the middle of their back. On days when the pink fabric was worn, she liked to practice braiding it up and putting flowers in it when she had time. On blue days, a simple ponytail would do. On white… well, they liked to just let it out. Maybe braid a little bit down the side but that's the most they'll do.

They found they like to wear the Hylian cloak on days when the white fabric was needed. The mountain climbing armor as well, it helped hide the subtle curves or lack thereof on his body and gave a more neutral look.

They're more confident now on correcting at least the koroks on the pronouns. He even taught one about the colors on their wrists and word seemed to spread among them, and before they called him "Mr Hero" he noticed that they'd start to study his wrist first, sometimes going with "Miss Hero" and "Friend Hero" instead. Hero seemed to be a gender neutral term to them, and Link didn't mind.

People were harder. It came up less often. They've told Beedle, Karson, Bolson, and Sidon, but that was about it. They didn't know how confident they were on telling people that he didn't talk to often, or people like Impa who knew him from way before. Link got the feeling only Zelda knew back then, they don't know how or why she was the only one, but they feel like they need to actually talk with Zelda before they start telling the whole world.

Closest friends first.

Then everyone else.

At Revali's Landing, Link was a girl.

Before they left after defeating Vah Medoh, they told Tebo. Tebo didn't seem to care either way what Link was, he was just thankful for their friendship and for the safety of the Rito. Link can only hope the rest of the world felt that way once Calamity Ganon no longer plagued it.

-o-o-o-o-

It had been months since a mishap, so when she approached the Gerudo Fortress, she was sure that they would kick her out. This was it. This was the big test. The Gerudo only allow women into their town, Link had been in a few times out of necessity as a man, dressed as a vai, but that was for the sake of getting to Vah Naboris quickly, with no way of telling when the pink scrap would come out or if they would even let her in.

It didn't feel right to pretend, to force. But it was necessary, the stakes were more important than the discomfort of being a man in women's clothes.

But now… now that she was truly a woman, she had to test it.

She was dressed in her blue champion's tunic, Hylian pants, and her hair was pulled up into a bun with braids trailing up into it. It was evening, so it wasn't too hot or too cold, it was the perfect time to try and walk in… or get kicked out… without having to lie about her gender or dress dramatically like it.

The guards eyed her as she approached and she sucked in a breath.

Just so it.

What if they kick her out?

Just so it.

She doesn't want to be kicked out while she's an actual girl.

Just do it. Rip it off like a bandage and do it.

She let out her breath.

And walked past them.

"Welcome, little vai," one Gerudo said, smiling away towards the horizon, as if she'd known the whole time.

-o-o-o-o-

Link never realized that the final memory was right by the Kara Kara Bazaar until after Vah Naboris was released from Calamity Ganon's control. Link was a man at the time, though at the very end they were genderless. The first time Link had seen her past self change. She saw it in their stance, in the way their face shifted naturally into something different. It was liquid, not rushed or thought too much into. Nothing about them changed, nothing but the gender. No personality, no values, nothing but the gender.

As fluid and ever changing as a river.

-o-o-o-o-

Nothing was revealed with the "memory" of the Master Sword. The Deku tree told him nothing.

But there was a revelation at the real final memory, the one of his death.

As he watched it, he realized he could not remember what gender he was during it. At the moment, it didn't seem to matter. Link… was Link back then. Just a fighter, a knight, and what they identified as did nothing to help Link fight against all odds to make sure Zelda survived.

Link died with a bracelet on, but it didn't mean anything. It was singed black with the blast that dealt the final blow. Noticed by no one as Zelda quickly took it off as the Kakariko soldiers carried the body away.

-o-o-o-o-

It was time. After... months of traveling and helping and self discovering, it was finally time. He'd been in the castle before, to get one of the most dangerous memories he could possibly get, and then he left rather quickly after that, choosing to train more than risk going in further. Now, he was back.

He took his time. Something gave him the feeling that while Zelda had waited long enough, she also could wait a little while longer. There was something important he wanted to check. He knew where Zelda's laboratory was, he just had to find her bedroom. He got the feeling… he got the feeling Zelda left him something there.

It thankfully wasn't hard to find. It wasn't hard to get rid of the monster within it either, he'd grown strong over the months, both in mind and body, so it was of very little effort to get himself alone with the book placed on a desk.

The read was… emotional, but what really got him was the note hastily scribbled in on the back page.

"In the middle drawer," it said, "and thank you. I'm counting on you. Sorry I couldn't find the others. We can look for them together once Hyrule is safe."

He carefully opened the middle drawer of the dresser… and found nothing but a single, singed, black beaded bracelet.

Link slipped it on and put the blue scrap in his pack with the others. Right now, the hero stepping in to save the world was Link. There had been a whole lot of ups and downs, but Link believed it would only get better, once Ganon was no more, once Hyrule was safe, once Zelda was relieved of her one hundred year battle. But first, it's time for Link to be a hero.

And that would never change.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #jin writes #genderfluid wild #legend of zelda #loz #breath of the wild #botw #loz: botw #linked universe #sort of #it will lead into a second part with the bois #long fic #link #genderfluid au #lgbt bolson #lgbt link

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thefamouswhitewolf · 5 years ago

Text

It was a long winter and Geralt didn’t come down from Kaer Morhen until mid April, meaning the ground was still swampy and covered in muck, and the ponds and streams still had ice collecting at the edges. It meant cold baths in said bodies of water, and the wish for a warm bed by the time Geralt reached ground that wasn’t uneven and hard to sleep upon.

The fruit trees had begun to bloom and the smallest of the bothersome insects had woken from their winter slumber, forcing Roach to swat her tail endlessly and toss her head to avoid the mayflies that went for her eyes. Geralt swatted at them with his hand when they went for his face and growling, the Witcher made camp away from the water the insects enjoyed, meaning he was well hidden from the road, but had to walk a good distance to get fresh water.

One trip was to fill a pot with water for boiling some eggs; Geralt had met a trader along the road that didn’t show as much fear of a Witcher as usual. Pleased with a sale so early in his travels, the man sold Geralt a dozen duck eggs, two loaves of bread, a block of very hard, fragrant cheese, and a sack of potatoes. It was a good haul that Geralt wasn’t charged extravagantly for. The man thanked Geralt for lightening his load early on, and he left with a wave and bit of advice for the Witcher; there was a wandering spirit in the woods beyond the next town that didn’t hurt anyone, but haunted the woodsmen at night.

“Cryptid?” Geralt asked, sure that the man knew he meant monster.

“Nah. Word is it looks human. Sings a song that entrances, but then sucks the life outta them while they sleep. Don’t kill ‘em, just tires ‘em out. Be mindful, Witcher. I doubt it’s picky on what kinda man it catches.”

“Thanks.”

Geralt wasn’t exactly frightened of whatever was lying in wait for himself or another weary traveler; he could handle the worst of the monsters birthed from the bowels of the Continent. It was the trader’s mention that the creature didn’t kill its victims that had Geralt’s attention.

It could be something as simple as a succubus or incubus, but Geralt thought it may be a Manchachicoj; a very seductive yet deformed creature that wandered the world having relations with many people, in an attempt to seek out an impossible love with a kind, understanding human.

The Manchachicoj was an elusive creature Geralt had only read of in Vesemir’s bestiary, but he didn’t for a second think that they were extinct. He’d been surprised by the discovery of any number of beasts once thought obliterated from the Continent, and no amount of trader gossip and sworn statements from local villagers would make Geralt believe anything until he’d seen--or not seen-- things with his own eyes.

The woods the trader spoke of sat less than a half day’s ride from the base of the mountain and Geralt, still stocked up on supplies from Kaer Morhen and the trader, settled down for the afternoon in a small clearing away from the nearest stream, for the same reason as before: bugs. They weren’t nearly as bad where he was making his fire, and even Roach wandered away a little to munch the fresh spring grasses popping up at the base of nearly every tree in the forest.

Seeds and squirrel stores, no doubt, growing thick where the sun lit the ground and where the trees dripped water during the heavy spring rains.

Fire roaring and swords at his side against the log he’d rolled over for a bench, Geralt again boiled water from the stream and this time added all of his ingredients to it, making himself a thick stew. He wouldn’t hunt that night since he wanted to keep his presence low, but he had everything, including dried venison from the keep’s larder, to make a stew even Vesemir would eat, the picky bastard.

Only evening birdsong and the haunting chirps of the treefrogs came, as the sun began to set. Geralt had heard travelers on the road hours earlier and they didn’t so much as mention his camp. Most people were grateful for warmer weather and were eager to get on with their springtime business; a random fire in the woods with a saddled horse meant another traveler, no more. None suspected it was a Witcher in their midst.

There wasn’t even anything for Geralt to work on as he waited. His armour had been mended and his swords were sharpened long before he even left Kaer Morhen, so he closed his eyes and had a bit of a meditation break, listening to the crackling of the fire, the birds, the frogs.

He could pinpoint Roach’s snorts as she stalked through the longer grasses nearer the camp, and the sound of a lute coming from far off to his left.

A lute?

His eyebrows drew together as he rumbled a suspicious growl, opening his eyes and gathering his swords together, one in hand and the other over his back. It could be a man, some minstrel wandering from town to town now that the snows had ended and the road was again passable, or it could be some creature Geralt hadn’t seen before.

There weren’t any footfalls advancing on his camp site, but Geralt ducked back further into the woods anyway, keeping one eye on the fire so he didn’t lose his bearings. The scent of the burning wood was a good compass to a Witcher, but Geralt was trying to use his sense of smell to determine what was instead around him. Trees, rotting leaves, mud. Empty badger den, deer shit, rabbit shit, nightcrawlers.

He focused until the weaker scents became noticeable; pine tar, mushroom dust, the faintest hint of apple and cherry blossoms from the barely-open fruiting trees in the orchard on the outskirts of the town he’d already passed. Lavender.

That was different. Lavender was a plant grown only in the south of the Continent, and it wasn’t in bloom for nearly two more months, sometimes three, during a bad spring season. A liniment perhaps, or a balm? It certainly didn’t smell like anything other than a light scent on human skin.

Human skin. It wasn’t a creature sneaking up on his camp. It was a human.

Geralt slipped out from behind the knotty pine he’d used as a temporary shield and held his sword out only until the stranger came into view, then he lowered it so the threat was at least lessened.

The human was dressed in the bluest clothes, and the flamboyancy of them definitely suggested a performer of some kind. The lute strapped over the man’s back confirmed what Geralt had immediately suspected: a bard.

But a bard wandering through dense woods at night? Alone? A shapeshifter, perhaps? No human was stupid enough to do such a thing, unless they had a death wish.

Or a purpose.

Geralt’s medallion wasn’t reacting to magic or monster, so he listened without interruption. Though it didn’t mean the person before him wasn’t some kind of non-malevolent spirit. Trickster beings, woodland child spirits, fae folk; all were playful but harmless so the medallion often stayed silent in their presence.

“So,” the bard began, his voice light and his face pleasantly youthful. “The rumours in town were true. There is a Witcher in the woods. I suppose it’s better than a witch in the woods. Far more dangerous, those.”

Geralt snorted but didn’t immediately put his sword away. Wordplay was the trick of a great many forest spirits, and he wasn’t about to get himself killed simply because this was a very pretty looking being before him.

“Depends on the Witcher. I could kill you before you have the chance to make another sound.”

The bard smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners; aged slightly, Geralt thought, but still couldn’t be more than thirty or thirty-five in human years. “But you didn’t. Do Witchers kill humans? I thought you had some kind of honour code or something. No meddling in the affairs of men.”

“That only means I won’t kill a man at the request of another. If you’re a threat, I’ll easily dispatch you and be on my way.”

“But I’m not that; a threat, I mean. Just a bard, wandering the world on his way south now that the snows have ceased. Bloody winter was so long, wasn’t it? Anyway, care for some company? The townsfolk thought me mad to come in search of you but I’ve a taste for adventure and you, Sir Witcher, look very tasty.”

#musings #long fic is long #that's why it's behind a cut #I really should start posting on AO3 but there are so many better authors there #you darlings know who you are #with your Witcher aftercare #and Geralt selfcare #and Kaer Morhen winter fuckery YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE CIRCULAR BIRDY #geraskier eventually #first time meeting #not canon timeline compliant #not saying Jaskier's human because what fun is that?#might continue might not iono yet

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wild-blue-sonder · 5 years ago

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Tips for Breath of the Wild Newbies

Or anyone who may be as obsessed with the game as me.

I’ve officially done five playthroughs of Breath of the Wild since I got the game and Switch last year. Even though I’m on my sixth now, I’m still somehow discovering things while playing it! That goes to show how expansive and utterly amazing it is. If I had to choose just one game to play for the rest of my life, it’d be Breath of the Wild without hesitation. It has officially dethroned Twilight Princess as my favorite Zelda title which I never thought would happen. Anyway, if you’re a new player like I was just last year, or a veteran looking to critique some hints and tips, I hope this post doesn’t disappoint!

1: Thoroughly explore the Great Plateau This area is the beginning of your journey, and methodically running all over it will equip you for the rest of your adventure. There are some weapons lying around other than weak Traveler’s and Boko gear, such as a Soldier’s Bow at the top of the Temple of Time (which you literally can’t miss after the first major cutscene), a Throwing Spear in the Bokoblin camp behind the Temple, and a Soldier’s Broadsword under the waterfall of the snowy area. Raiding all the Bokoblin camps will reward you with a few ambers and opals you can sell for rupees early on. Keep the Iron Sledgehammer you get in the Owa Daim shrine and use it to defeat the Stone Talus near Hopper Pond instead of expending precious, expensive Bomb Arrows. Make it a habit to use Magnesis near any body of water, especially bogs. Comb the Forest of Spirits for all its insect and food resources. Lastly, there are eighteen Korok seeds to be found around the Plateau which gives you a good start to upgrading your inventory.

2: Gather Korok seeds early and efficiently Most new players probably want to know how they can carry more gear since it breaks. Hestu provides the solution to that issue and you can’t miss him if you follow the main questline. There are 900 Korok seeds in the whole game but you only need 441 to max out your gear slots. My favorite areas for getting a lot of seeds early on are the Dueling Peaks and Hateno regions (combined to form Necluda), the Lake region, and north-northwestern Faron. You can easily glide to many seed locations from the Lake tower and the top of Dueling Peaks. Zelda Dungeon is the best resource for finding seeds.

3: Embrace the durability system Something I hear from many players is their hatred for weapons breaking, but that system is in place for a reason! There’s tons of gear scattered all over Hyrule and breaking it gives you the opportunity to try out everything. I’m sure you will come to favor certain items as you progress. I hate finding a chest with a good weapon or shield in it that I can’t carry because my inventory is full, so I have to throw something on the ground ‘cause I’m too impatient to come back and get the better thing later. I’d rather break weapons by fighting enemies and gathering resources instead of letting them poof. You will also get the most mileage out of your gear by using it appropriately. Instead of running into monster camps and breaking all your swords and spears on tough enemies, take some of them out with bow headshots. Instead of trying to melee certain enemies, use shield parries to deflect their projectiles and kill them. And don’t use your claymores to smash ore. One last aspect of the durability system is to learn where certain weapons spawn, providing you with an endless supply. For instance, there will always be Iron Sledgehammers leaning against Link’s house in Hateno and a Silver Longsword behind the Ne’ez Yohma shrine in Zora’s Domain.

4: Save Guardian gear for Guardians Guardian gear is most effective against the various types of Guardians loitering around Hyrule. After passing some Minor or Moderate Tests of Strength, hang onto those weapons for Guardian Scouts you’ll encounter in certain shrines, Decayed Guardians posted around certain areas, and Guardian Stalkers which yield the highest amount of ancient materials. You can use Guardian gear against regular monsters, but it’s not as efficient. Shock Arrows are also effective against Guardians if you need something in a pinch.

5: Ignore Yiga Footsoldiers If you see random people on the side of the main roads in Hyrule either whimpering or standing around like creeps, they turn out to be Yiga assassins 99% of the time. I personally find them annoying so I just ignore them. They won’t pursue you unlike the archers and blademasters that poof in to disrupt your questing later on.

6: Use Dragonbone Moblin Clubs to defeat Taluses Dragonbone Moblin Clubs are highly effective and extremely common two-handed weapons that work well for dispatching Taluses in the early stages of the game. The easiest way to get these clubs is to run around at night and wait for Stalmoblins to pop out of the ground; they are commonly found in the Gerudo mountains. It should be noted that these clubs aren’t as effective against Igneo Taluses due to catching on fire. But Frost and Stone Taluses of the plain, rare, and luminous ore varieties will fall quickly beneath the might of the Dragonbone Moblin Club, especially if you hold a charge attack after climbing onto them. It should also be noted that Boulder Breaker is actually the best weapon in the game for farming ore from Taluses, so you can just use that after you get it. I still hang onto Spiked and Dragonbone Moblin Clubs for smashing regular ore if my sledgehammers break.

7: Do not fear Hinoxes, Moldugas, and Lynels These are the three most intimidating monsters in the game, but engaging them is entirely optional. You can hear Hinoxes snoring from a mile away so they’re easy to stroll past or ignore altogether. After a certain heart count they’ll almost always have boosted weapons around their necks, usually Royal gear, and there are three methods for gathering them. You can sneak onto their hand and wait for them to drop you onto their belly, then nab the weapons and carefully jump off. You can engage them, shoot them in the eye once, and grab the weapons while they’re sitting on the ground before running away. Or you can just kill them which is easy if you have Urbosa’s Fury and hold a charge attack with any two-handed weapon. This method will even kill red and blue Hinoxes in one go with a strong Royal Claymore! Moldugas only spawn in specific areas of the Gerudo Desert and you can see their sand ripples from far away, so you can give them a wide berth if you want. But they’re worth engaging for the good weapons in their treasure chests. Again, the best method for defeating them is to use a strong two-handed weapon (Royal Claymores are my personal favorite for their abundance and high durability), hold a charge attack, and make sure Urbosa’s Fury is active. Lynels are obnoxious to fight due to how much they dick around. The key to defeating them is to master perfect dodging because their attack patterns are extremely predictable. Use a combination of high durability and high damage one-handed weapons, such as Royal Broadswords and Lizal Tri-Boomerangs, paired with strong shields. Always try to swoop in on Lynels with the Paraglider from a high point because if they spot you from afar they’ll shoot you with elemental arrows. Speaking of which, Lynels are immune to elemental arrows and weapons so don’t waste them. Just go toe to hoof and have good reaction time.

8: Learn the best locations for farming resources After five playthroughs I’m still working on this one, but here are some tips I can share. Razorshrooms and Zapshrooms are commonly found all over Akkala. Rhino beetles are best gathered in Faron. Equip the Sheikah set, start in Lurelin Village, and run along the beach checking palm trees along the way. Hearty Lizards are also commonly found in Faron. For gathering Rushrooms with minimal climbing, stay in Necluda. Naydra Snowfield yields more Chillshrooms than you’ll know what to do with. To get Gourmet Meat either to sell to Trott or make expensive kebabs, hunt Tabantha Moose and Great Horned Rhinoceros in Hebra; wolves and coyotes tend to yield Prime Meat. Avoid bears because they’re jerks. If you’re in need of the three varieties of Safflina, you can’t do better than farming the Ruins and Great Fairy Fountain of Gerudo. Lastly, if you want a lot of ore for upgrading clothes or selling to get rich, turn on your Sheikah Sensor in Eldin. Of course I wouldn’t leave out the dragons. Farming parts from them can be frustrating because of the elements that hurt you, but you need horn shards for upgrading the Champion’s Tunic. It is easiest to fly at them head-on and use either a Golden or Phrenic Bow, or the Ancient Bow since it shoots straight, then stay in the updraft so you can see where the part lands. In my experience, the best spot for Farosh is on Floria Bridge in Faron. Hylia Bridge and the Gerudo Summit are good second and third areas. The best spot for Dinraal is Tabantha Great Bridge; the second best is near the Eldin Great Skeleton. Climb one of the rock spikes along the edge of the map or up the mountain to catch an updraft and shoot him. My favorite spot to farm Naydra is in Lanayru Promenade. Climb up either of the dilapidated sides and wait for her to come down. You might also catch her while gliding southeast from Vah Ruta.

9: Explore one region at a time I started doing this during my most recent playthrough. Previously I would go around activating each tower as soon as possible to fill in the map, but exploring each area as I reveal it has led to some fun discoveries, like a big stash of gear just north of the Gerudo tower, and certain side quests I’d never done before such as A Parent’s Love. Methodical searching is also the best way to find Korok seeds if you don’t want to use a guide. There are so many secrets in Hyrule that you’ll definitely miss stuff when you have the whole map laid out before you, so consider exploring one region at a time!

10: Try the Expansion Pass content Master Mode is probably the best offering from both DLCs. It does ramp up the difficulty to a certain degree and is worth a full playthrough even though the base game stays the same. There are no red enemies, you start facing off against the blue versions of each monster type. In addition to black and silver, you will fight golden enemies which are quite tough. Monsters also regenerate health which can be frustrating. However, there are way more and better weapons to be found! Floating alongside most bridges and waterfalls will be Bokoblins and Lizalfos guarding treasure chests. Master Mode also gives you much more rare ore. The Champion’s Ballad is enjoyable and has three main parts. First, you run around with the One Hit Obliterator and if the name of that weapon doesn’t sell you, then don’t buy the content. Second, the shrines you must beat to complete each champion song are difficult, good for anyone who complained about a lack of a challenge. Third, the final dungeon is like a fifth Divine Beast and the boss fight is kind of easy compared to everything you had to do to get to that point. But the Master Cycle is worth it. Think “steampunk unicorn dirt bike” and if you have no desire to drive Link around Hyrule on such a vehicle, then you are playing the wrong video game. I can’t talk about the Master Trials since I have yet to complete it, but I loved going on a treasure hunt for all of the EX armors, the Royal Guard uniform being the best. They can’t be upgraded, though, which is a bit disappointing.

Was this post helpful to you? Am I completely wrong about something? Do you have anything to add? Feel free to reblog with your own hints and tips! And let’s all hope that Breath of the Wild 2 measures up to the awesomeness of the first game!

#the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #loz #breath of the wild #botw #link #zelda #gaming #nintendo #switch #video games

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hollyoaksloversx · 5 years ago

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A Body in the Pond, A Living Funeral and A Bible Bashing...

Rounding up a week in Hollyoaks (19th-23rd August 2019)

There are many things we associate with Summer. Sunshine, beaches, light nights, rain but the word that will spring to mind when we look back on Summer 2019 in Hollyoaks will be ‘death’. Breda had murder in mind (again) this week when she discovered that Goldie and Joel were still seeing each other, despite Goldie promising her otherwise. Getting Joel alone at the McQueen’s, Breda hit him with her Bible, but was horrified when the whack failed to kill him. The pair came to an understanding, and Joel agreed to keep quiet about Breda’s actions if she agreed to give him and Goldie her blessing. Although Breda looked to be out of the woods, she was soon back in the shit when Jack took the boys fishing outside The Dog, and ended up ‘catching’ a dead body...

The police were quick to identify the body as Louis Loveday and Lisa was devastated to learn of her Dad’s fate. Keen to find answers, Lisa jumped on the fact that Breda had been the last person to speak to Louis, and the police were also interested upon receiving this information. Unfortunately, Breda had a way to get the police off the scent, and she pointed them firmly in the direction of Leela and Martine, pointing out that both women had been wronged by Louis in the run up to his death. Martine and Leela were soon taken in for questioning, and both were appalled by the suggestion that they could have killed Louis. With the police having no real evidence linking either women to the murder, Leela and Martine were released and Lisa was later informed that her Father was possibly another victim of the serial killer...

Despite the investigation into the serial killer gathering pace, Breda wasn’t to be deterred in her mission to rid the village of terrible Fathers, and she quickly made plans for Darren to become her next victim. Breda was left angry when Darren kept palming Charlie and Oscar off on Tom and she was left even more enraged when she arrived at The Osborne’s to find the boys home alone and watching a scary film. Despite Darren insisting that he’d only left the boys alone for a short while, Breda tore into him for his carelessness and made plans to poison him, but she was interrupted by Mandy. Breda ranted away at what a terrible Father Darren was, but she was stopped in her tracks when Mandy made her see that he was only trying his best. Breda decided to let Darren live but she soon found herself trying to force Lisa out of the village when she discovered that she was attempting to track down Louis’ ring, the very ring that is currently residing on Jack’s finger...

Meanwhile, for someone who’d just had this affair rumbled, Liam was surprisingly relaxed this week, believing that he could convince Bobby that his kiss with Mercedes was entirely innocent. Of course, he’s forgetting that Bobby’s not one of those stupid kids, and the youngster quickly told Liam that he didn’t believe his cover story (licking ice cream off her face, indeed?!) Confused over what to do, Bobby turned to Charlie, and asked him if he would have told Nancy about Darren’s affair with Mandy had he known. Charlie confirmed that he would have told, stating that honesty was always the best policy and so Bobby prepared to tell Sylver what he’d seen. However, Bobby had a change of heart when he realised how upset Sylver would be and decided to keep shtum. Bobby’s subdued mood over the days that followed caused Sylver much concern and he confided in Misbah when he discovered that Bobby had wet the bed. Misbah offered to have a word with Bobby to see if anything was troubling him and he admitted that he was worried that Mercedes was going to abandon him again. Mercedes, who had spent the entire week oblivious to her son’s upset, was devastated when she overheard...

Elsewhere, Damon and Maxine were back from their honeymoon, and Sienna was soon piling on the pressure to get Maxine to tell the truth about her ‘illness’. With Maxine reluctant to admit to her lies, Sienna jumped in and started her off, telling Damon that Maxine’s magical treatment had worked. Damon was so delighted by the news that he planned a lads holiday with Scott and Brody, leaving Maxine feeling neglected. Of course, we can’t have that, and so Maxine broke down in tears and told Damon that she’d lied to Sienna, and that her treatment hadn’t worked. Wanting to cheer Maxine up, Damon decided to give her a ‘living funeral’ at the folly (minus the Tom’s Turtles tat but complete with a coffin!) Maxine was delighted by the gesture and became even more insufferable than usual as she threw herself into the preparations. Unfortunately, the event didn’t go well when Brody discovered that Damon had been taking money from Maxine’s fund, and the police interrupted the service to arrest him for fraud. Wanting to get her husband off the hook, Maxine decided to confess but Sienna convinced her not to when James pointed out that they could use Damon losing Maggie and potentially losing Maxine in quick succession as mitigation. So the lie continues...

In other news this week, Goldie and Joel were revelling in their new relationship, delighted that they now had Breda’s blessing whilst Sylver offered to be Grace’s personal trainer. Finally, Diane received news that Finn was about to be released...

5 Things We Learned This Week:

1. Nothing good ever comes from a fishing trip. Especially if that trip takes place outside The Dog. Ste’s already fished a body out of there and now Jack’s joined the club too. Just buy your fish out of Price Slice instead.

2. Walter doesn’t lock Price Slice. The discovery of a body outside The Dog had Walter, Martine and Lisa rushing down there for a nosy, with Walter forgetting to lock the shop in his haste. He’s a brave man, given that he lives in the crime capital of the world.

3. Nanny Breda is always there. What started off as a comforting message to a grieving Leela this week turned out to be scarily accurate. Whenever the police were in the village, be it gathering evidence or speaking to witnesses, there was Breda lurking just in the corner of the shot.

4. Charlie and Oscar need to develop a thicker skin if they’re going to survive in Hollyoaks. There’s no way that horror video they watched could be worse than anything they’ll witness growing up in the village!

5. Damon wants Maxine’s last days to be just like Maggie’s. So we can look forward to scenes of Maxine streaking round the village, interrupting someone’s wedding and getting arrested. Marvellous.

This Week’s Cast:

Breda, Bobby, Brody, Charlie, Courtney, Damon, Daniel, Diane, Darren, Finn, Goldie, Grace, Jack, James, Jesse, Joel, Kyle, Leela, Liam, Liberty, Lisa, Mandy, Martine, Maxine, Mercedes, Misbah, Mitchell, Nana McQueen, Nancy, Oscar, Sienna, Sylver, Tony and Walter.

Blasts From The Past:

Carl Costello, Becca Dean, Glenn Donovan, Maggie Kinsella, Louis Loveday, Simone Loveday, Zack Loveday, Frankie Osborne, Max Owen, Russ Owen, Buster Smith, Shane Sweeney, Harry Thompson and Darcy Wilde.

#Hollyoaks #Highlight #Breda McQueen #Jack Osborne #Lisa Loveday #Martine Deveraux #Leela Lomax #Darren Osborne #Mandy Richardson #Charlie Dean #Oscar Osborne #Damon Kinsella #Brody Hudson #Maxine Minniver #Finn O'Connor #Bobby Costello

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reedsmeer-blog · 6 years ago

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♔ → westeros presents MEERA REED, the LADY in GREYWATER WATCH. a raven sent word that she bear(s) the resemblance to JESSICA BROWN FINDLAY. the TWENTY EIGHT year old CIS FEMALE was ALERT & AFFECTIONATE before the dawn of war, but have now become INTRANSIGENT & STOIC. when songs are sung, their verses speak of THE HAND STRETCHING THE WIRE, ALL CALLOUSES, ALL BLOOD; DARK HAIR DAMP WITH SNOW AND SWEAT, STICKING TO EVERY BIT OF SKIN; THE ELATION OF DISCOVERY IN THE FORM OF A GRIN, EXHAUSTED BUT BEYOND SATISFIED. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies with HOUSE STARK, but fealty means little when you play the game of thrones. ( cams, 19, gmt, she/her. )

i. meera's first years were filled with stories, some she knew to be true, others simply legend, but some were a mystery she's yet to uncover. those words filled her head with folklore and tales of the past, which she carried with her like the chains of a maester - meera was known as the storyteller, retelling those tales to younger children with all of her theatricals, whispering sad songs of long gone knights and other characters of the outside world, telling her little brother jojen all the things father had taught them, just so the boy could say if she made the stories justice. perhaps she'd write it all down in a book, like those her mother kept, bound in old wrinkly leather. or perhaps she never would, respecting the ages old tradition of the crannogmen and hiding every whisper beneath the water, where no outsider could come and then leave.

ii. her father taught her how to yield her very first weapon, a frog spear. from him, she got that, and the scale armor, all in bronze, which her father had made specifically for her. once he let that fester, meera broke off on her own, pursuing whichever skills she deemed fit for an heiress, for a hunter, for a survivor. with the help of many amongst her people, she could climb trees in near silence, become a whisper in the leaves, a swimmer so subtle she gave no sign on life in the still green waters. she knew of places outside of their small bubble, where some girls would spend the same time preparing for dances and embroidering handkerchiefs, and sometimes meera would wonder what that must have felt like, but the surrounding fields of the neck were all she had ever seen, and that life remained the object of stories and songs, nothing else.

iii. lord stark was dead, long live the wolf king. the reeds knew nothing but loyalty, serving their lord well, but that was more than getting caught in the middle of a war - she'd grown up with the tales of the wolf pack, who her father loved so dearly. the she-wolf, who meera so wanted to have met. the wild wolf, a legend forgotten. the young pup - she wondered what had become of him. and the quiet wolf, a righteous man whose letters always made father so happy. a just lord who hadn't asked for the burden of the title. not long after, the two reed siblings were on their way to a mission explained only by the gifts that the two reed men had. of course, who was meera to question them? her spear was guided by their visions, their dreams, their curses. if they pointed out the way, meera would carve it for them.

iv. this isn't my war. sometimes the terrible thought got stuck in her gut, vile sickness threatening to pour out almost immediately. jojen and brandon were blessed with mystical abilities she could only observe and follow, lost inside their own heads or souls, driving them from place to place, even when she insisted on other paths. it was robb's war. it was jojen's pursuit. it was bran's destiny. she pushed the thought away every time, devoting more and more of herself to their goals, even if it killed her - it went beyond loyalty or political alignments, they were her family. all of them, including hodor, summer, shaggydog, little rickon, even osha. the world was wide and they were only small but huddled together, the group made up a mighty force. and so she stayed, even when she wasn't heard, even when she couldn't understand, and every farewell broke her heart in bits. the softness in her that the northern cold couldn't harden made the journey a much more personal one. what would come after was a much harder question she did not dare ask.

v. the neck needed her. saying goodbye to bran, no matter how temporary, broke every shard she believed to have left, and the girl who waved goodbye to her home was not the same who returned. more aware than ever of the incoming threat, meera knew her duty was with the reeds, which she needed to help protect - greywater watch is the final stronghold on the north, and in troubling times such as these, no southern threats can pass, and no long nights can either. more than ever, she is determined to carve out a path for herself, earning a role that's active in the war that is here and the wars to come. her training has been relentless, she followed her mother and father to every call from their folk, and her stories are more tragic, filled with tales of dying northerners, burnt down villages and blue-eyed creatures.

vi. howard reed was a stepping stone. unlike his predecessors, he yearned for something he could only find outside of the neck and he fought for it, venturing into the great world that was so hostile to him, fighting amongst others, visiting great castles and seeing things he'd only heard of in songs. meera shares that adventurer's heart, but amplified. his stories were the beginning of a wish she can no longer contain, not after she's seen so many glimpses of the world from her journey with the stark princes. from great mountains to the shore and the sea, to the very top of the great wall, meera had a wisful smile stuck to her lips even in some dire situations, and it was not enough. she felt so inspired by what she saw and all the potential of what she could yet see that there is no other way but into the great outside world, to explore and visit all corners she can, to see the small shops and the big landscapes and the terrible battles and the tallest castles. everything they have to teach her is out there for the taking, and meera knows it will not only make her a better person, a better fighter and a better reed, but also more fulfilled than she ever could be, should she only be stuck in greywater watch.

vii. the loyalty of the reeds is something eternal, and meera very much caries that torch too. while she is no tactical commander or mighty fighter, her weapons are the wolf king's and she has expressed her willingness to use them for his war.

BITS AND PIECES

howland stark was picked up from the ground by the starks, armored, sheltered, cared for. he followed ned to the ends of westeros, fought for him, and in the very end committed treason for him, keeping to himself the terrible secrets of the tower of joy. he !! pulled ned away from lyanna's dead body and you can't tell me he didn't take it upon himself to deal with the brunt of the logistics to get lyanna back to winterfell just so ned didn't have to suffer through that too. house reed is not just the geographical line of defense for the north, they are the stark shield - not only did meera grow up hearing stories of this great family they pay vassalage to, she got the exact same faith. she would have gone to the end of the world and back for bran and rickon, and honestly same thing applies for any other stark because she believes so damn much in their core values and their honor !! don't talk to me about the endless loyalty the reeds have for the starks, i'm so upset.

the reeds are faithful, and for long so was she. be it to the old gods or to some ancient powers that went far beyond her comprehension, they guided her towards some higher purpose and blessed jojen for a reason. before falling asleep, she'd often whisper to herself, sometimes the names of nearly forgotten gods or promises and questions to those she did not have a name to call by. however, she got very few answers. if anything, it doesn't seem like the gods have been cruel towards her, it seems as if they've abandoned the girl, or never been there at all. the stories that have for so long guided her seem ever more hollow and her personal prayers more pointless. there's quiet anger building up within meera that only gets amplified after every tragedy and she doesn't know for how much longer she can pretend it is not there. damn the green dreams, the wolves in bran's eyes, the prayers and the smiling trees and the rituals - they keep leading her to the same place of loss and confusion, and the only significant piece of the impossible puzzle is human action, defiant or in spite of the gods, doing whatever the hell they deem to be the way.

after her return home, she got some leather-bound bits of parchment where she's been drawing and writing down stuff about the things she's seen, much like an adventures journal. whenever she leaves greywater watch, she brings a couple along, even if only to jolt down the name of small towns.

her loyalty does not equal compliance. meera respects the starks and her family, and does listen to them most of the time, but she is defiant to any reasonings she cannot agree with and stubborn to a very obvious fault. she WILL be heard, even if that means harsher words, or shouts that pierce through what's usually a gentle amused demeanor.

while she doesn't have the mythical aspect of many in her family, the woman has a profound connection to nature. growing up, she'd play in the shallower ponds and the branches of mossy trees - walking barefoot along slippery stones, ancient fossils, near the jaws of predators; meera is at her most centered when she's in direct contact with the life that she shares the world with.

even though greywater watch did not have a maester, there were many skilled people all around her who shaped her knowledge, aided by the extensive personal library her mother kept. herbology was always a particularly interesting topic, although always bested by the hidden arts and folklore. she can often be found collecting plants that catch her eye, saving them for future use should they be of help.

she would fight every being in the world for her little brother. and she trusts him and his wisdom so so deeply, even if sometimes she just wants to get rid of all the mythicisms and inject some pragmatism into situations. do not touch jojen.

her moral compass sometimes isn't the greatest. her pragmatism gets in the way of righteousness, and she has and will consider things like theft and murder should that make the most sense for the problem at hand. however, those around her, especially jojen, can always easily bring her back to her good values.

meera is NICE. i think the stereotype of the 'not a lady, had weapons, isn't in a dress' often leads to hardening the character, but meera really is not that. there's an inherent softness in her, which she often demonstrates in physical touch, by squeezing people's hands, gently caressing shoulders, placing kisses on the top of their heads. she is kind and gentle and cheerful, and often has a smile on her lips, unwilling to let herself sulk in her own pity and tragedy (at most, she'll leave that for quiet moments with herself, get it done with and return to being a light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how flickering).

check her STATS & PINTEREST !

#❛ v . | nothing scares me anymore ; a study .#rev.intros

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